#easy now..... good......keep going youre doing fine

[wchswift]

ଓ The apple pie life

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader Summary: you and Dean are tasked with going undercover as a married couple in a suburban neighborhood to investigate a string of mysterious disappearances linked to a local HOA. Content: fluff, one kiss, angst (kinda), idiots oblivious to their own feelings, hunting/working a case, mentions of murders, demons, spells, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 4k a/n: I've been keeping this in my drafts for a while now and while life happens and I work on my dofp!logan one shot, I decided to post this :) I hope you enjoy it

mdni 𖤐 18+

“Yeah, no. This ain’t happening.” Dean Winchester stood at the edge of a freshly mowed lawn, surveying the neighborhood like it was a Hellmouth in disguise. Which, for all they knew, it very well could be. Rows of cookie-cutter houses lined the street, each painted in calming shades of beige, sage, or blue. Even the mailboxes were identical. Dean glared at one as if it had personally offended him.

Sam sighed, arms crossed, watching his brother’s tantrum. “Dean, it’s a neighborhood. Not a death sentence.”

“You’re asking me to pretend to be Mr. Suburbia. Me. You know I don’t do...” Dean gestured vaguely at a garden gnome. “This.”

Standing between the two of them, you held a faux wedding photo that Sam had printed for the cover story. “We’re married. You’re a mechanic. I work from home. We moved here for the good schools. Sound familiar?” you said with a smirk, holding the picture up.

Dean snatched the frame and scowled at the image. “I look like a hostage,” he muttered.

“You always look like that,” you shot back. “Now come on, let’s get unpacked. Our ‘friendly neighborhood welcome committee’ is stopping by in an hour.”

Dean groaned, but there was no backing out. Sam had been adamant: five people had disappeared from this very block in the past six months. The only connection? All were new to the neighborhood, and all had been avid participants in the HOA’s activities.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled, hoisting a box from the Impala. “But I’m not calling you ‘honey.”

Dean’s idea of "unpacking" consisted of dumping boxes onto the floor and shoving furniture into place like he was playing Tetris with his life. You trailed behind him, trying to make the house look halfway livable. It wasn't easy; the entire setup resembled a sitcom scenario, complete with ruffled curtains and throw pillows that Sam insisted would help you blend in.

Dean picked up one of the pillows, squinting at the stitched slogan: Home Sweet Home. “This thing screams demon bait,” he muttered, tossing it onto the couch.

“Maybe if you acted like a halfway decent husband, it wouldn’t,” you quipped, earning a low chuckle from Sam.

“Yeah, hilarious,” Dean shot back, hauling a box of what appeared to be mismatched kitchen supplies onto the counter. “This is my nightmare, by the way. Thought you should know.”

“It’s not exactly a dream for me either, sweetie,” you replied, stressing the endearment with a sugary grin. Dean’s eye roll could’ve powered the whole neighborhood.

The doorbell chimed just as you finished arranging a vase of fake flowers in the living room. Dean peered through the peephole like he expected to see a mob of demons. Instead, a group of impeccably dressed neighbors smiled back at him.

“Kill me now,” Dean muttered, opening the door.

A blonde woman with a Stepford-wife grin and a clipboard stepped forward. “Hi there! Welcome to the neighborhood! I’m Lana, the HOA president. And these are Sheila and Rick, your next-door neighbors!”

Dean gave his best approximation of a smile, though it looked more like a grimace. “Uh, hey. I’m Dean. This is my—uh—wife.”

You plastered on your most winning smile and shook hands all around. “So nice to meet you all!”

Lana’s eyes swept over the living room, clearly appraising your decor. “You’ve done such a lovely job already! Oh, and Dean, we’ll have our weekly HOA meeting at the clubhouse tomorrow night. We expect all new residents to attend. You’ll come, won’t you?”

Dean opened his mouth, likely to come up with an excuse, but you elbowed him. “We’d love to,” you said quickly.

“Wonderful!” Lana chirped. “I’ll leave you with the neighborhood handbook. Everything you need to know is right here.” She handed over a spiral-bound monstrosity of rules and regulations before bustling off with her entourage.

Dean stared at the handbook like it might explode. “Fifty bucks says they’re part of a cult.”

That night, Sam joined you both in the kitchen, where you poured over the HOA handbook. Sam had come by under the guise of helping you move in but was really playing the role of a nosy family friend who conveniently lived a few towns over.

“Okay,” Sam said, flipping through pages. “This is weird. Every house here has to have a specific type of lawn ornament? And look at this—rules about curfew, holiday decorations, even what kind of car you can park in your driveway.”

“Classic control freaks,” Dean muttered, popping open a beer.

“Or something worse,” Sam countered, pointing to a line about mandatory attendance at neighborhood socials. “People start disappearing, and the HOA gets more power over the remaining residents. It seems like they're under some spell… perhaps they made a pact? Maybe with a demon.”

Dean groaned. “Great. So it’s not just bad casseroles we have to survive.”

“We need to hit that meeting tomorrow,” you said. “Whatever’s going on, that’s where we’ll find the first clue.”

The next evening, you and Dean made your way to the HOA meeting at the neighborhood clubhouse, blending in among the perfectly groomed crowd. Everyone was dressed like they were auditioning for a suburban magazine spread: crisp polos, floral blouses, and smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes.

Dean leaned closer to you, muttering, “Tell me this doesn’t feel like a Stepford reboot.”

You elbowed him lightly, smiling for the neighbors. “Try to look like you’re not plotting their demise, honey.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, adjusting his flannel like it was armor. “Let’s just hope these people don’t sacrifice newcomers to their God of Lawn Care.”

Inside the clubhouse, Lana, the HOA president, stood at the front of the room, clipboard in hand. She welcomed everyone with her signature cheerfulness, but you couldn’t miss the way her eyes scanned the crowd, lingering on the newcomers—you and Dean.

“Now, let’s get started!” she chirped. “First order of business: Mr. Peterson’s garden gnomes. We’ve had complaints they’re too whimsical.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at you, mouthing, too whimsical? You struggled not to laugh.

The meeting droned on, a mix of petty complaints and rigid enforcement of bizarre rules, until Lana’s tone shifted.

“And finally,” she said, her voice dropping an octave, “a reminder that all residents are expected to attend next week’s neighborhood barbecue. Remember, harmony is our greatest strength. We’re all part of something... bigger here.”

Her words sent a ripple of unease through the room. Most of the neighbors nodded dutifully, but a few glanced nervously at each other. You caught Dean’s gaze, and his expression was sharp, all traces of humor gone.

Later that night, back at the house, you pored over what you’d observed with Sam and Dean.

“It’s not just the rules,” you said, pacing the living room. “It’s the way they act. Like they’re afraid of stepping out of line.”

“And what’s with Lana’s ‘bigger picture’ speech?” Dean added, tossing the HOA handbook onto the coffee table. “She’s definitely hiding something.”

Sam tapped at his laptop. “I did some digging. Lana moved into this neighborhood ten years ago, right before the HOA’s rules got so strict. Before that? No disappearances, no creepy cult vibes.”

Dean frowned. “So she’s the ringleader?”

“More like the summoner,” Sam replied, turning the screen to show an old news clipping. It detailed Lana’s involvement in occult studies years ago. “If she’s behind this, it’s not merely a pact. It’s using the HOA to enforce perfection, as it literally sustains the spell that keeps it anchored here.”

“So, the HOA handbook’s not just a pain in the ass,” you said, glancing at Dean. “It’s the demon’s playbook.”

The next morning, Dean decided to “blend in” by taking his role as a suburban husband to absurd levels.

You came downstairs to find him in an apron, flipping pancakes with an exaggerated flourish. “Morning, sweetheart!” he called, his grin annoyingly smug.

“What are you doing?” you asked, still half-asleep.

“Being the perfect husband,” he said, loading a plate with a stack of slightly burnt pancakes. “You should try it sometime, darling.”

The sarcasm in his tone made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “If this is your idea of perfection, the demon’s going to smite us before lunch.”

Dean’s antics didn’t stop at pancakes. Later that day, he decided to tackle the front yard—shirtless, of course, because “that’s what husbands do, right?”

You stood on the porch, arms crossed, watching as he wrestled with the garden hose like it owed him money. His flannel was tossed onto a nearby fence, leaving his t-shirt in a crumpled heap in the corner. The summer sun glinted off his shoulders, and despite the ridiculousness of it all, you couldn’t help but stare.

“You know,” you called out, fighting a smirk, “the neighbors are going to think you’re some kind of exhibitionist.”

Dean glanced up, his grin wolfish. “Or they’ll think you’re married to the best damn landscaper on the block.”

“You missed a spot.” You pointed at a section of the lawn.

He mock-groaned, holding a hand to his chest like you’d mortally wounded him. “Man slaves away, and this is the thanks he gets? No wonder I’m burned out on marriage.”

“Burned out implies you ever tried,” you shot back, leaning against the doorframe.

Dean’s expression shifted, just for a moment—a flash of something vulnerable, quickly buried under his usual bravado. “Yeah, well... guess I never found the right reason to try.”

The air between you grew heavier, the teasing edge dulled by an undercurrent you didn’t quite know how to address. He broke eye contact first, turning back to the yard. “Don’t just stand there, princess. Grab a rake or something.”

The barbecue was the kind of event you’d have laughed at if you weren’t actively part of it. Neatly arranged folding tables with checkered cloths stretched across the neighborhood park, and neighbors mingled with drinks in hand, every one of them smiling just a little too wide.

Dean leaned against the grill, flipping burgers with the same intensity he used while sharpening knives. “This is a trap. You know that, right?” he muttered, glancing around.

“Obviously,” you replied, sipping a too-sweet lemonade. “But we’re undercover, remember? Try to act like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Dean’s grin was laced with sarcasm. “Oh yeah, I’m having a blast. Love talking about lawn fertilizer and HOA-approved fence heights.”

Just then, Lana appeared beside the two of you, her ever-present clipboard tucked under her arm. “Dean, those burgers smell amazing! And you—” She turned to you with that polished grin. “You’re just glowing, aren’t you? Married life suits you two so well.”

Dean, never one to miss an opportunity, slung an arm around your shoulders. “Well, Lana, we’re just one big, happy couple.” He punctuated the sentence with a quick kiss to your temple, the smug look on his face daring you to react.

You forced a tight smile. “Couldn’t be happier.”

Lana beamed, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Wonderful to hear. It’s so important to maintain harmony in the neighborhood.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. “After all, everything falls apart if even one house doesn’t meet expectations.”

Dean’s arm stiffened against your shoulder, his instincts flaring. “Is that right?”

Lana nodded, her expression unreadable. “Absolutely. Well, I won’t keep you. Enjoy the barbecue!”

Once Lana was out of earshot, you and Dean regrouped with Sam near the dessert table.

“She’s hiding something,” you said, cutting straight to the point.

“Definitely,” Dean agreed, setting his plate down. “And what’s with the whole ‘harmony’ thing? She sounded like a cult leader.”

Sam nodded, keeping his voice low. “She is. It is indeed a deal, an exchange. The more the neighborhood conforms to the rules, the stronger it gets. People who can’t meet the standards? They’re the ones who disappear.”

You frowned. “So the HOA rules aren’t just annoying—they’re literally fuel for this thing.”

Dean’s jaw tightened. “Well, good news. We’ve got the perfect distraction right here.” He gestured at himself and you with a smirk.

“Perfect distraction?” you repeated.

“Think about it,” he said. “We’re new, we’re not exactly HOA material, and if anyone’s gonna tick off a demon about their precious rules, it’s us.”

Sam sighed. “Just be careful. If the demon gets wind of what you’re doing, it won’t wait for you to break a rule—it’ll come for you directly.”

The first crack in the HOA’s perfectly polished façade came two days after Dean decided to rebel in his own loud, stubborn way. The offending incident? A single garden gnome—brightly painted and flipping the bird—set proudly on your front lawn.

You crossed your arms, staring at the gnome as Dean lounged against the doorframe. “Really?”

Dean grinned, proud as a kid showing off a bad report card. “What? It’s art.”

“It’s bait,” you corrected, shaking your head.

“Exactly.” He smirked, arms crossed. “Lana won’t know what hit her.”

Sure enough, Lana arrived within the hour, clipboard in hand and fury barely masked beneath her painted smile. “Dean, we need to discuss your lawn decorations,” she said through gritted teeth.

Dean stepped outside, wearing the smuggest expression you’d ever seen. “What’s the problem, Lana? Don’t you like art?”

She blinked, momentarily stunned by his audacity, before recovering. “This neighborhood thrives on harmony. Your—choice of ornament—disrupts that balance.”

Dean leaned casually against the porch railing. “Huh. Didn’t see anything in the handbook about freedom of expression being against the rules.”

You watched from the window, biting back a laugh as Lana sputtered, her usual control slipping. She left with a curt, “This isn’t over.”

After Lana stormed off, you expected Dean to be all bravado and quips, but instead, he started fixing the fence. It was such a rare sight that you almost did a double take.

“What are you doing?” you asked, leaning against the porch post.

“Making sure the place doesn’t fall apart,” Dean replied, hammering a nail into place. “If we’re staying here long enough to take down a demon, might as well make it look good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were so handy, Mr. Winchester.”

He smirked, not looking up. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m full of surprises.”

That night, you found Dean in the kitchen, you noticed Dean seemed... different. Focused. Almost like he belonged here. He stirred a pot of chili with a level of precision that rivaled his aim with a gun.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you remarked, leaning against the counter.

Dean shrugged. “I used to cook for Sammy when we were kids. Guess some habits stick.”

The soft admission caught you off guard. For all his bravado, moments like these reminded you of the man underneath—the one who took care of everyone else, even when he didn’t have to.

“This is weird,” you muttered, setting the table.

Dean looked over at you. “What is?”

“You. Doing all this domestic stuff. It’s like you’re... enjoying it.”

Dean shrugged, placing the bowls of chili on the table. “I don’t hate it. Beats getting shot at every day.”

“Guess you’re not half-bad at this husband thing after all,” you teased.

Dean smirked, his usual cockiness back in place. “Don’t let it go to your head, sweetheart.”

Later, the two of you sat on the couch, flipping through channels. Sam had gone back to his motel, leaving you and Dean with a rare bit of downtime.

The sound of the TV faded into the background as Dean spoke up. “You ever think about it? A normal life, I mean.”

You looked over at him, surprised. “Sometimes. Why?”

He leaned back, one hand draped along the back of the couch, his expression unusually serious. “I don’t know. It’s just... this case, all this fake domestic stuff... It’s kinda nice. Not worrying about what’s lurking around the corner every second.”

“You’ve never thought about it before?” you asked gently.

Dean gave a short laugh, his gaze distant. “Nah. Figured it wasn’t in the cards. Even when I was a kid, normal wasn’t exactly in the Winchester playbook.”

His words hung in the air, heavier than you’d expected.

“Maybe it’s not about the cards you’re dealt,” you said softly. “Maybe it’s about finding your own kind of normal.”

He turned to look at you, his green eyes searching yours. For a moment, the air between you felt charged, but he broke the gaze first, his usual smirk returning. “Well, my kind of normal definitely involves better TV shows than this crap.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Fair enough.”

The tender moment passed quickly as the two of you turned back to the case.

The next morning, Sam returned with a crucial discovery. “Lana made a deal with a demon ten years ago. She wanted the perfect neighborhood, and the demon delivered. But the cost? Anyone who doesn’t fit her version of perfection gets sacrificed to keep the deal going.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “So she’s trading lives for lawn perfection? Well, that’s messed up.”

Sam nodded. “It thrives off the conformity she enforces. The more people play by the rules, the stronger the demon gets. The ones who disappear? They’re used as sacrifices to maintain the spell.”

Dean stood abruptly. “Great. So we take down the demon, and her whole Stepford act goes up in flames.” He looked at you. “But first, we gotta piss her off enough to make a move.”

After talkng with Sam, you and Dean turned the dial on your undercover roles.

You started your day loudly arguing in the driveway about “trivial” things—how Dean never folded the laundry right, how you “always” bought the wrong coffee creamer.

Dean played it up like a pro, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “Fine! Next time, you go grocery shopping!”

“Oh, because you’re so busy, huh?” you shot back, struggling not to laugh.

So you two just keeped violating the rules. Determined to push Lana past her breaking point, Dean added strung mismatched Christmas lights across the front porch, even though it was July.

“Dean,” you said, standing in the driveway with crossed arms, “I’m pretty sure even the demon is rolling its eyes at this point.”

Dean grinned as he plugged in the lights, which flickered in a garish rainbow. “Oh, come on, admit it. This is the most fun we’ve had on a case in months.”

You couldn’t argue with that. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re married to me,” he shot back, winking. “You know,” Dean said, leaning in close as you adjusted the strand of blinking lights, “we make a pretty good team when we’re breaking all the rules.”

You smirked. “Better than your pancake-making team, that’s for sure.”

He laughed, the sound rich and unguarded. “Touché.”

Lanas’s car pulled up just as Dean propped his flamingo lawn ornament next to the mailbox. Her expression was a masterclass in repressed rage as she stepped out, clipboard in hand.

“Dean!” she barked, her voice sharp enough to make the neighbors glance over from their gardening.

He sauntered up to her, feigning innocence. “Morning, Lana. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Her smile was brittle, her grip on the clipboard tightening. “We need to talk.”

Dean’s escalating antics had done the trick. By the time night fell, Lana’s perfectly polished demeanor had cracked. She called an emergency HOA meeting, under the pretense of “addressing a disturbance in harmony.”

“You ready for this?” Dean asked as the three of you crouched outside the clubhouse, peeking through a window.

“I’ve been ready since the gnome,” you replied, flashing him a quick grin.

Sam whispered, “Looks like she’s prepping for a ritual. We need to stop her before she completes it.”

Dean nodded. “Sam, you cut off the ritual. We’ll handle Lana.”

“We?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dean smirked. “What, you don’t trust me?”

“Not as far as I can throw you,” you shot back, but the teasing tone didn’t quite mask the warmth in your words.

The two of you burst through the clubhouse door just as Lana lit the final candle on an ornate altar covered in sigils. The neighbors, all eerily quiet, stood in a semicircle around her, their expressions blank and glassy-eyed.

“Lana!” Dean called out, his voice cutting through the room. “You forgot to put this on the HOA agenda.”

She turned, her face twisting into something feral. “You don’t understand,” she hissed. “This neighborhood is perfect because of me. Because of what I’ve done!”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, your definition of perfect kinda sucks.”

Lana snarled, grabbing a knife from the altar and lunging at him. You moved instinctively, stepping in to block her path. Together, you and Dean fought her off, moving in perfect sync.

She was fast, unnaturally so, but you matched her step for step, Dean covering your back with practiced ease. At one point, she swung the knife in a wide arc, and Dean caught her wrist, twisting it just enough for you to knock the blade free.

“You good?” he asked, glancing at you.

You nodded, catching your breath. “I’m fine. You?”

“Peachy,” he replied, his grin full of adrenaline-fueled bravado.

Behind you, Sam chanted Latin, his voice steady as he worked to dismantle the ritual. The sigils on the altar began to glow, flickering as the power binding the neighborhood started to unravel.

Realizing she was losing, Lana screamed, “You’ll ruin everything! Without this deal, this place will fall apart!”

Dean shrugged, stepping closer. “Good. Then maybe it’ll feel a little more human.” With a final swing, he knocked her unconscious, the force of it sending her crumpling to the floor.

Sam finished the ritual just as the sigils burned out entirely, plunging the room into silence. The neighbors blinked, their blank expressions fading as they seemed to wake from a dream.

“It’s over,” Dean said, his voice low.

Outside the clubhouse, you leaned against the Impala, catching your breath. The air felt lighter now, the oppressive weight of the neighborhood’s perfection finally lifted.

Dean stood a few feet away, looking at you with an unreadable expression. For once, he seemed at a loss for words.

“You okay?” you asked softly, stepping closer.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous habit,” you teased, but the smile you gave him was gentle.

Dean’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Before you could think, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours.

The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions he’d been holding back—relief, affection, gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Took me long enough, huh?”

You laughed softly, your hand resting against his chest. “Yeah. But worth the wait.”

᭝ ᨳଓ𓂃⋆.

The next morning, as the three of you packed up to leave, Dean was back to his usual self—mostly.

Dean hesitated, glancing at the house. “Gotta admit,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “this whole domestic thing... wasn’t the worst.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you hated it.” Dean smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, well, turns out I don’t suck at it. Could even get used to it, maybe.”

“You know,” he said, leaning against the Impala as you loaded the last bag into the trunk, “this whole married thing has its perks.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked. “Yeah. Hot meals, shared insurance benefits, someone to remind me when I forget my wallet.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him lightly. “God, you’re insufferable.”

He shook his head, but there was a warmth in his gaze as he looked at you. “Maybe in another life.”

You didn’t answer, but the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. Dean opened the driver’s side door, his usual cocky grin back in place. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s hit the road.” You climbed in, Dean kissing you on the head before closing the door.

As the Impala roared to life and the too-perfect neighborhood disappeared in the rearview mirror, you couldn’t help but think about Dean’s earlier words. Maybe this undercover mission had been more than just a case.

Maybe, in some small way, it had given both of you a glimpse of what could be.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[mephisto-reporting]

I Love You: Zayne Edition

Premise:

Trope: Pure fluff

Pairing:Reader x Xavier

Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction. Let me know if you want to be a part of my taglist.

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition

The laughter of old friends lingered in the air like a melody, soft and bittersweet. The dinner had been perfect—good food, even better company, and the warmth of shared memories. Sitting at the long table, surrounded by people who had been a part of your life since childhood, you had caught Zayne’s gaze more than once. It wasn’t intentional, at least, not at first.

He looked effortlessly composed, as always. His sharp jawline and the faintest crease of a smirk tugging at his lips made him seem untouchable. Throughout the night, you’d caught his subtle glances—the way his eyes crinkled slightly when you laughed, the careful way he leaned over to refill your water glass before you even noticed it was empty. And then there were the small, almost imperceptible brushes of his hand against yours whenever you passed the breadbasket or reached for your drink at the same time. Each touch was a reminder of the unspoken tension between you.

The night air carried the faint hum of the city, punctuated by the distant honk of a horn and the occasional ripple of laughter from late-night strollers. The dinner had been wonderful, filled with shared stories and easy laughter with childhood friends. But now, the aftermath of your ill-chosen heels was a different story entirely.

You felt every uneven crack in the pavement as if it were a personal affront, the sharp, biting ache radiating from the balls of your feet. Still, you pushed forward, keeping your chin high despite the way your steps faltered. No way were you going to let Zayne have the satisfaction of saying, I told you so. His calm, knowing voice from earlier in the evening echoed mockingly in your head. “Those shoes are impractical. You’ll regret it.”

He had been right, of course, but you weren’t about to admit it. Not now. Not when he walked beside you, his steps steady and effortless, his expression composed as ever.

"You’re doing alright?" Zayne's voice cut through your thoughts, calm and steady, like he was used to offering medical assessments, even when you weren’t exactly asking. His eyes flickered down to your feet, then back up to your face.

"Yeah, totally," you lied through clenched teeth, trying not to let the discomfort show.

He didn’t buy it. His brow furrowed slightly, and the corner of his mouth tugged into a faint, knowing smirk. “You’re limping..." he said matter-of-factly.

“I’m not!!!” you lied, trying to straighten your posture. “Just… taking my time.”

But Zayne was nothing if not observant. His sharp, dark eyes flicked toward you, catching the subtle winces you tried to mask. Without a word, he stopped in his tracks, his hand lightly brushing your elbow to halt your stride.

“Sit.” he instructed, his tone firm but not unkind, as he gestured to a nearby bench.

“Zayne, it’s fine—”

“Sit.” he repeated, cutting through your protest with that no-nonsense authority he wielded so effortlessly. There was no point in arguing.

Reluctantly, you lowered yourself onto the bench, feeling both relief and frustration as the pressure eased from your aching feet. Before you could say another word, Zayne crouched before you, his hands already reaching for your footwear.

“Zayne, what are you—”

“Be still!" he said, his voice soft but commanding as he slipped one heel off, then the other, with meticulous care. His touch was warm against your skin, his fingers deft and steady as they began to knead the tender arches of your feet.

A low groan escaped you before you could stop it, and Zayne’s lips quirked into a small, knowing smile. “Your posture’s terrible in shoes like these,” he remarked clinically, his thumbs pressing into a particularly sore spot with just the right amount of pressure. “They force your spine into unnatural alignment and strain the muscles in your legs. Long-term use could cause chronic pain.”

You grumbled, looking down at him, feeling the tinge of frustration mix with the discomfort. "I know, I know," you muttered, "but they look so good, Zayne. They make me feel pretty."

His eyes softened, his usual stoic expression shifting into something more vulnerable, more genuine. He looked up at you, and his lips quirked into a small, fond smile. "It’s not the shoes that make you pretty," he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. "It’s your charm. Your beauty. Your warmth. It’s all you."

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten, and for a moment, you forgot about the ache in your feet altogether. The way Zayne looked at you, his gaze full of adoration, made your chest ache in a good way. He wasn’t the type to express such things openly, but in this moment, you knew he meant it with every fiber of his being.

Before you could say anything in response, Zayne stood, shrugging off his own shoes with a small shake of his head. "Here," he said, holding them out to you, "you can wear these for now."

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at your lips as you looked at the shoes, which were far too big for you. "You want me to wear those?" you asked, the idea almost comical.

Zayne raised an eyebrow, unamused. "Either that," he said, with an almost imperceptible smirk, "or I carry you the rest of the way."

You stared at him, incredulous. "You’re serious, aren’t you?"

He gave a nod, his gaze unwavering, and then the smirk appeared again—soft, amused, but still holding a hint of challenge. "Take your pick." he said, a playful edge in his voice, though there was no mistaking the sincerity behind it.

You sighed, unable to stop the soft laugh that escaped you, and shook your head. "Fine," you muttered, slipping your feet into his shoes, which were comically large on you but at least offered some relief. "But this better be the last time you ever say 'I told you so'."

Zayne chuckled, a deep, quiet sound that made your stomach flip, but just as you were about to speak again, something inside you caught. The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

"I love you, Zayne."

The words hung in the air between you, startling both of you into silence. Zayne froze, his eyes wide and startled, his usual calm demeanor completely shattered for a heartbeat. His gaze locked onto yours, as if he were trying to make sense of what you’d just said, his expression a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something that could only be described as vulnerability.

"Wait," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Did you—did you just—"

You nodded, your own heartbeat suddenly loud in your ears. You didn’t know where the words had come from, but now that they were out there, you couldn’t take them back.

Zayne blinked, then slowly, hesitantly, he leaned forward. "Say it again," he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, vulnerable.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment, but you didn’t hesitate this time. "I love you, Zayne."

A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart stutter. His eyes softened further, the stoicism melting away to reveal a quiet, unguarded joy.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something raw and real. He let the words hang between you for a moment before his usual dry humor crept back in. “If I’d known a foot massage would get you to say that, I’d have done it a long time ago.”

You laughed, the sound light and breathless, the tension between you dissolving into something warm and easy. He held out his hand, pulling you to your feet and steadying you as you adjusted to the unfamiliar fit of his shoes.

With your heels in one hand and his arm firmly wrapped around your waist, he led you toward the car, his grip on you unyielding. The two of you walked slowly toward the car, his steps matching yours as if to ensure you didn’t falter. His touch was steady, grounding. And for the first time, you realized that this—his presence, his calm strength, his quiet devotion—felt like home.

As you reached the car, Zayne tightened his arm around you for just a moment, his lips brushing your temple in a gesture so tender it made your heart ache. “Stay with me,” he said softly, almost to himself. “For tonight. And for longer, forever if I can help it.”

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Sylus Edition | Rafayel Edition | Xavier Edition | Zayne Edition

Taglist: @cordidy

[zomboivex]

Duality of Deception

A character study of Tohma Ishibashi

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

Sections

Notes & Disclaimers

Basic Information Breakdown

Cards & Cosmic Bonds

The Story So Far

What May Come to Pass

Overview

Final Author Notes

Credits & Sources

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

Notes & Disclaimers

Another super long post incoming here! A few gentle reminders that I do this primarily for fun and do not make any profit from these posts. What I write here are simply from things I’ve found and took from the story provided. They may be debunked or inaccurate in some instances but I still think it’s fun to do deeper dives into characters. If you disagree or don’t like what I’ve written here, that’s completely fine. Just don’t be hostile towards me about it.

A lot of this really is just fun speculation on my part. So I don’t really expect any of what I say to come to pass. It’s just a nice in-depth look of characters from a game I enjoy.

If you read this entire post, be sure to let me know what your thoughts are! I love having in depth discussions with others. If I seem to have misunderstood something or missed complexities, due to not growing up with Japanese culture, feel free to let me know!

Additionally, I do plan on eventually doing this for all the ghouls in the game. It takes a while to do these posts so if you’re looking forward to a certain character, it’ll come. Eventually. Maybe.

Anyways! I’ve rambled enough! Enjoy the deep dive!

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

Basic Information Breakdown

Marketed Mastermind

Tohma Ishibashi is a multifaceted character that has been marketed towards us, the consumer, as someone who has many fingers in the pot. He’s seen as conniving, secretive, and willing to get his hands dirty in pursuit of his goals.¹ He keeps his own interests close to his chest, revealing his truth to no one in the process. The game, even in multiple mentioning of him, goes out of its way to paint Tohma as a Mastermind. Capable of deceiving those around him while leaving his true intentions unclear to everyone- including the reader.

Tohma has been described as calm and collected with an insidious glint in his eye¹ as well as the card names even hinting at this darker nature such as; Contrived Smile or Watchful Shadow. Even in his actions and responses in the game, we see Tohma painted as a man who has ulterior motives and works within the shadows- meeting in secret with a house that his own allegedly has discourse with or getting into heated conversations with other house vice-captains while giving scathing commentary to MC.

Even with all of this, Tohma constantly reminds Jin that he can trust and rely on him. And even his actions state this to be true thus far. Working in ways to benefit Jin and helping his stigma issue remain a secret. Tohma also regularly reports to Jin and seems to even share warnings that his secrets cannot be kept forever.

So the question begs…

Can we trust Tohma?

It’s In the Name

Names are usually given from the aspirations the parents have for their children. Or at least, it’s easy to believe this. As far as characters go, it’s usually a way to tell what the characters journey will be in their story. Tohma’s name is just as complex as he is, showing that he could be either a hindrance or a help to others. That he has the duality of being both good and bad- leaving his intentions unclear to us, the readers.

What do I mean by that?

Well, let’s take a look at his name.

Tohma [塔真] - tower + truth/reality ²

Ishibashi [磴] - stone steps/stone bridge ²

Focusing on tower, for now, we can go over a few different meanings for this symbolism.

Having your movements restricted and horizons limited can be troubling for many- towers representing this in both a physical and mental realm of reality. For the physical representation, it can manifest in the form of material possessions you gain over time and now feel the need to protect. For the mental representation, it manifests through stubborn behaviors or mannerisms or remaining ‘close minded’. Both of these limiting us in different manners. One causing us to have the need to protect physical items and spending all of our energy doing as such. The other chaining us to our thought patterns, unable to break free from our own way of thinking. ³

Now, I don’t believe that this necessarily fits with Tohma. Or, at least, it doesn’t seem to fit with how he is presented to us. Tohma very much is a character who seems to be unlimited in what he can accomplish due to not restricting himself to any set morals or values (that we can currently see). However, we do see that he is limited by someone who is stuck due to their circling thoughts of their own entrapment. Jin Kamurai.

Towers also hold another representation; aspiration and ambition. Their towering height showing us that, we too, can reach high with our ambitions and rise above. ⁴

This seems more along the lines of what we have seen Tohma described as. Ambitious and aspired- not worrying about getting his hands dirty in the process. He has even been described as running things in Jin’s absence.¹

Strength and stability are also key features that towers can represent. They are large, towering, and immovable objects. They have a solid foundation that allows for them to reach to the skies and reinforce the ideas that true strength does not come from isolation, but from standing firm in your own beliefs and principles. Towers invite introspection and self-assessment, urging those around them to build their own lives with the same sturdy foundations that the towers are built with. ⁴

Connecting this back to Jin, I think it is clear that Tohma represents himself as the tower in Jin’s life. It seems he is urging him to stand up and remove himself from isolation. To have Jin push his own beliefs and principles. Or- perhaps- to push the beliefs and principles that Tohma holds. Either way, I think that Tohma having his name represent ‘tower’ is very telling for his character. He seems to be the ever-looking figure in Frostheim, leading them forward and remaining rooted while making sure things do not crumble in Jin’s absence. He is the one pushing Jin to do more- despite Jin’s silent concerns of his own potential failings.

The next part we’ll focus on is the Truth/Reality of his name.

Having Tohma associated with Truth and Reality is an interesting choice on the game’s part. There are many things, within the Tokyo Denunker universe, that we do not have the full truths for. It is a mystery story that leaves us with many questions- only answering small portions and giving more questions behind.

What is the truth in Tokyo Debunker?

What is Truth and Reality in a world that has anomalies- the very thing that deviates from the ‘norm’?

And what is Truth and Reality for Tohma Ishibashi?

Tohma is painted very much as a character filled with deception. Many things in the game eluding to the fact that Tohma is not one you should find trustworthy. These will all be explored further in depth in their respective portions of this post. But it’s something to keep in mind, while reading.

But another important thing you should make note of is that despite his lack of trustworthiness, Tohma often states to Jun that he should trust him. And Jin seems to- to some degree. And I wonder why this is.

Now, onto Tohma’s family name; Ishibashi.

Stepping stones & stone bridges.

Both of these can very easily be looked at in both a connecting and disconnecting manner.

Specifically, for bridges, they can represent the transition from one state to another. The ending of a cycle and rebirth into another. As well as a desire for change. ⁵

Again, we see themes of cycles pop up in Tokyo Debunker. On my analysis of Jin Kamurai, we spoke of the Social Cycle Theory and how that tied into not only the characteristics of Jin Kamurai, but also the game, in of itself. But here, the mentions of cycle seem to indicate that they are not repeating for the sake of following in a similar or same path but a cycle that leads from one destination to a completely new destination- looking for change. For a different outcome. The emphasis falling on breaking the cycle of repeating itself and, instead, starting a new cycle that will have a different outcome.

Bridges also can symbolize the transition stages in your life, the connection between the conscious and unconscious, dangers of crossing a boundary, confidence, advancements, goals, fears, anxieties and emotional troubles. ⁵

This casts a wide net on the meaning for bridges, as it seems that the destination can vary depending on how you approach the subject. Very much like Tohma, who is complex in his duality of what he can achieve and how he goes about achieving it. He could very easily flip between being a bridge that crosses over into heaven or into hell. There is also something to be said about the phrase of burning bridges. Is Tohma the type to burn bridges? I don’t personally think so. He seems more the type to explore every avenue he can to get what he wants. But, ultimately, we don’t know what Tohma wants. All we know is that he’ll do whatever he can to reach his goals- whatever they may be.

Metaphorically speaking, bridges can be meeting points in arguments and negotiations. You build a bridge to cross challenging terrain to get from one side to another. ⁶

In our language, we use bridges often as a way to convey having discussions or negotiations with others. Phrases such as “bridging the gap” or “we’ll cross that bridge when we get there” or even “burning bridges” all seem to have implications of connections with other people and how we can use our words to build or destroy those connections. By meeting others halfway, dealing with a situation once it arises rather than pre-planning, or eliminating a connection altogether. ⁶

It’s curious, then, that Ishibashi seems to strongly focus on connections with others. The same aspect easily applied with the Stepping Stones part of his name as well. Using others as a stepping stone immediately comes to mind. Which also plays into Tohma’s nature of stepping on others to reach his ambitions.

However, stepping stones can also illustrate taking steps to navigate a difficult or larger situation. Allowing you to break tasks down into smaller ‘steps’ that can be achieved in order to reach a larger goal. Stepping stones allow us to take smaller steps rather than one giant leap. Allowing for advancement at a safer and more planned pace rather than being reckless. ⁷

This can also show that Tohma carefully plans around his actions and takes things in smaller strides rather than racing to the finish line. He is meticulous in what he does- carefully crafting his plan so that he has a larger chance of success at whatever goal he is trying to reach.

I think, when putting the name together, it paints a particular picture.

Tohma is an ambitious man. One who seems to almost be a looming tower within his house- firm where he stands and ambitions high in the clouds. He seems to represent, for some, a sturdy and reliable person that empowers them due to the connections he has built with them. Namely with Jin, whom Tohma seems to have built the most communication with. We see him with Jin the most and, with Jin, he seems to have established a close enough relationship where he is entrusted with valuable information.

But is this trust something that Jin will regret?

Whatever the case is, the name heavily suggests the possibility of both. And I believe Tohma to be the type of person who will keep his options open until the absolute last minute where he will need to make a choice. And then, in his moment of truth, we will see whether he bridges the gap or burns the bridge.

Signs Within the Signature

Signatures can reveal a lot about a character. Tohma is no exception. His own signature showing various aspects of his characteristics and the duality of who he is as a person.

When you look at the signature, you can tell that it has a slight right lean. Subtle right leaning text can show signs of ambition, optimism, creativity, and vitality. ⁸

Tohma, as we have stated before, is an ambitious character who strives to meet his goals under any circumstances. It would not come as a surprise if he was creative in various ways of reaching said goals. There also has to be a level of optimism and vitality to believe you’re going to reach said goals and to actively work towards them.

Legibility for the signature is also clear. Each letter well defined and easy to read. This can indicate open and straightforwardness. ⁸

This aspect is an interesting one. Tohma is not a very open or honest person. At least, not in how the game presents him. However, Tohma, himself, may be attempting to appear as an open and straightforward person. He certainly seems to act this way towards both Jin and Alan, as both captains seem to believe his words and advice to some degree.

When the i-dot is more of a slash, it can indicate impatience or being in a rush. The i-dot in Tohma’s signature very much being similar to a slash or line than a small dot. ⁹

While Tohma is more of a particular person, he does have the tendency to also act quickly when needed. I can imagine that he is not the type that rushes into things head on without a plan- unless he has sufficient backup. But he can handle things quickly and efficiently.

Heavy pen pressure can show a strong sense of being active and having strength and energy as well as intense motions. It could also be how they felt in the moment. Tohma’s signature having thicker lines implying that his pen pressure was a bit heavier. ⁹

Tohma has been described as someone who has a lot of brute force, to begin with. And we’ve already discussed how he has quite a bit of vitality, as well. Keeping up with everything he does around Frostheim must also take up a considerable amount of energy while also maintaining missions and meeting in private with others and also working on whatever his secret goal is. Having a heavier pen pressure does not come as a surprise to me.

Baby, He Was Born This Day

Tohma was born on May 31st, slotting him as a Gemini.

Those who are born on May 31st are typically considered ‘peacemakers’. Often, they make it their goal to lead others to a satisfying conclusion with their communications. They’re able to find purpose in just about anything and can change perspectives- making sure conversations don’t dwell on unimportant or off-topic matters. ¹⁰

While Tohma has the tendency to skirt around topics and speak in a shady manner, he has the capabilities to steering others into conversations he wants to have. He’s quick to quip back and guide conversations back to the topics he wants to discuss- which we see when he interacts with Jin or MC.

Having a tendency to expect too much from those in their life, people born on May 31st can be set up against frustrating challenges. They can remain level-headed as long as they are given some quiet, secrecy, and space in their relationships. Preferring the company of those who can be silent with them and, in turn, understand their silence as well. ¹⁰

Time and time again, we see Tohma having expectations from Jin. Wanting his captain to come out of seclusion or to partake in missions. He often reminds him that he cannot keep his stigma problem a secret forever and that, eventually, it will come out to the public. He is able to remain rational through this all, never once snapping at Jin despite his outbursts at him. Keeping calm in the face of having an ash tray thrown in his direction or a sword swung in his general direction.

It seems Tohma, in turn, is allotted a lot of trust from Jin- even when he does state he distrusts him. He’s given his privacy and allowed to work in ways he deems to be the best. Secretive and working within the shadows while also remaining a frontman for Frostheim. The duality of Tohma surfacing once again.

There is a level of admiration for those whom they respect and view as moral. Spending their company with those that they deem as just. ¹⁰

Again, we see Tohma spending time with Jin quite a bit. He states that he views Jin as a kind person and lists off how Jin has helped behind the scenes. Even when he’s not active in front of others. Additionally, Tohma notes how he and Jin will benefit from one another, stating they’ve made some sort of deal. Ultimately, it seems they’re working towards a similar goal.

Individuals, such as Tohma, are proud and confident as well. Stopping at nothing in their path when they set their eyes on a goal. They are educated and rarely in a sour mood. However, they can lack the ability to connect with those in their social circle. This can lead to them having awkward or even uncomfortable moments with others. ¹⁰

Again, Tohma is typically not seen in a sour mood. He’s calm and collected, often wearing a smirk. That being said, we have also seen Tohma having some conflict with other characters. Between Leo interrupting his meeting with Alan and his very tense conversation with Haku and Rui, it’s clear that he has some very uncomfortable moments with others.

Overall, Tohma’s day of birth might not hold much significance for his character. But I think it does highlight certain aspects of his personality that shouldn’t be overlooked.

Dress to Impress

When you look at Tohma’s appearance, it’s pretty easy to tell right off the bat that he’s trying to portray himself as something other than what he truly is. Clean cut clothes with minimal color, neat hair, and a monocle to top it off. Comically, he seems to almost portray a caricature of what an extremely wealthy person may look like. But why is that?

For this section, I’m only going to focus on Tohma’s casual outfit and not any of his other outfits.

Aside from the monocle, the next noticeable thing about Tohma would be the beige on beige on beige. Okay. Not exactly all beige. But he’s wearing a lot of beige.

Beige can be considered a dependable, conservative, and flexible color. It evokes energy and strength while also coming across as intellectual and trustworthy. It’s a color that can go beyond any problems you’re facing by helping you rely on your inner strength. ¹¹

It’s telling that Tohma is wearing a color that’s commonly associated with being trustworthy. It seems this is an image that he’s trying to put out of himself- wanting to come across as someone that you can depend upon while not being overbearing.

Furthermore, if you enjoy the color beige, it’s natural for you to be welcoming to others. You prefer living a quiet lifestyle and don’t stand out in a crowd- wanting to be seen as normal. ¹¹

To emphasize further on Tohma’s attempt at masking himself as someone who belongs, it seems that wearing beige was a deliberate choice. For someone who is analytical and carefully considers their options, it would make sense for him to select a color that doesn’t stick out to wear on a more casual manner.

Beige has the ability to generate feelings of stability and reliability, creating a welcoming environment. ¹²

Again, Tohma is selective in what he wears and is careful with how he presents himself to others. Wanting to be seen as someone that can be relied upon. Fitting for someone who is a Vice-Captain while also heavily taking on the duties of his Captain in his absence. He would want to be seen as being dependable to those in his house. Especially with how much they distrust him from his switch from one house to another.

Of course, we can’t analyze Tohma’s appearance without touching on the one thing that really causes him to stick out from the crowd. His monocle.

Seen as a symbols of status, monocles were often only worn by the wealthy and elite upper classes. Due to needing to be made for a custom fit and costly materials such as gold, silver, and tortoise shells, they weren’t something the every day citizen could afford. ¹³

Additionally, monocles can also come across as a caricature of an intellectual and rich elite. They’re seen as pretentious to some, due to the ‘high class’ status that comes with owning the eyewear. So it’s fascinating that someone who painstakingly wears beige on briefs also chooses to wear something that almost seemingly mocks those he’s around- the wealthy upper-class elites of Frostheim.

The duality of this being he could be wearing it as an earnest attempt at blending in. Making himself seem more fitting to brush shoulders with aristocrats and nepo babies. Or it could be a not so subtle jab at their snobbish appearances. It’s truly hard to say.

What we can say, though, is that Tohma does seem to give his clothing some deliberate consideration.

Personally He’s Not Personable

Tohma is more focused on the tasks at hand rather than building relationships. Sure, he can be social when required. But his focus seems to be more on his job and requirements than it does on his connections with others. So much so that Tohma does not seem bothered or perturbed by the thought of masking his true intentions and personality from others to reach his goal. Keeping many of his thoughts and opinions to himself and only speaking when trying to gain something from others.

There also seems to be a more focused on working in the shadows. Tohma does not need the attention from others to feel as if he has done a good enough job. His desires stem from getting the job done and getting it done in a matter he deems to be satisfactory. He doesn’t have to bask in the praises of others- finding joy in simply doing a job well-done. Additionally, Tohma values the job being done in an efficient manner while making sure that it is done in a way that leaves no room for error. He seems to crave challenges and thrives off of solving difficult situations- such as when Jun demands him to charge forward and take down anomalies while also carrying a child.

All that being said, Tohma is also a rather reliable person. So long as your interests align. He seems to put his best foot forward, keeping face even when a situation seems difficult or faces with aggression. He remains calm under most circumstances and seems to act as if he always has the upper hand. Even when put in a surprising situation, such as when Leo tricks him and Alan into meeting one another, Tohma still manages to come out not losing much in the situation. Alan still trusts him, despite Leo’s protests and Leo still has very limited information on what it is, exactly, Alan and Tohma are meeting up and discussing.

Still, it’s quite clear that Tohma is not a personable person. Even on his character profile, his ‘Likes’ are marked as N/A.¹ He picks uninspired clothes- aside from the jabbing monocle, and he keeps a cool head. His interests are kept to himself, save for a potential interest in chess. And, again, can we truly say that he’s passionate about chess? Or is that something he picked up because it’s Jin’s favorite thing? Who really knows. He keeps everything closed to his chest.

He’s Got the Power

Like many ghouls, Tohma had both a stigma and a special artifact. Additionally, he has brute strength- seemingly more so than the other ghouls- and access to a wide range of artifacts due to Darkwick seemingly entrusting him.

Argeas allows Tohma the ability to transmit vibrations over long distances. It gives him the capabilities to send messages long distances and can be amplified to even go through anomalous soundproofing through MC’s own ability. Additionally, paired with his brute strength, Tohma even has the strength to use the vibrations to completely destroy building foundations through creating earthquakes.

Tohma also has a special artifact in the form of a halberd. While we don’t know what capabilities his special artifact does, at this time, we do know that he uses it to cut anomalies and slam into the ground to presumably send vibrations down to the building base to help destroy it.

There’s also Tohma’s noted brute strength, which we spoke of already. It seems to amplify his stigma and seems to also allow him to fully use a halberd without breaking a heavy sweat over it.

Finally, while not an ability, Tohma does have access to more ‘rare’ artifacts. Such as the skeleton key. Stating that Darkwick allows him to have access to such artifacts due to having built trust with them.

His Relationships

Tohma is interesting in the way that he acts with other characters. Here, we’ll break down the very basics of his relationships with the other characters. I won’t go too far in depth with each one, as there are still so many. And I’ll leave theories to the What May Come to Pass section. So this will primarily be focused on the surface level of the relationships and how they have been presented to us thus far. I am also leaving out staff, at this time. Though, I will note, I would not be surprised to learn that he has some dealings with the staff in any way.

Jin Kamurai

Jin and Tohma have a rather complex relationship that I don’t think can be summed up easily in this post, alone. It seems the two have some sort of agreement amongst one another, working together for some larger goal at hand. We still don’t know what this goal is but it seems that it does pertain to, at least, Jin getting some form of revenge for ‘her’. Heavily implied to be his mother. Additionally, the two have a rather fueled relationship where they both can be quippy towards one another. Making snide remarks and calling the other out on their behaviors. It appears they’re close. But the details beyond that, are elusive to us.

Kaito Fuji

Kaito and Tohma don’t have many direct interactions, to say the least. Kaito still seems to crop up around him quite a bit. Likely due to the both of them sharing a house together. Additionally, they’ve both worked on at least one mission together, so far.

As it is now, I don’t believe that they’ve had much direct conversations to really warrant their relationship to be beyond just housemates. Perhaps Tohma not really viewing Kaito as much, at all.

Lucas Errant

Lucas and Tohma also don’t seem to have many in-depth interactions with one another. But we do see Lucas going to Tohma and asking to be given a high ranking mission. This declines and states that he, quite frankly, does not trust Lucas and that he needs to earn this, respectively, from him. Lucas does seem to flub the mission, but his determination does seem to stir something within Tohma to allow him to rectify his mistakes. I think saying that Tohma finds Lucas to be earnest in his interactions would not be too far of a stretch to believe. He also is thankful that Lucas was able to also get Jin out of his room and active, once more. Something that he had been trying to do for some time.

Alan Mido

Another complex relationship with even less information than the relationship Tohma has with Jin. We know these two have worked together in the past and are collaborating to look for a ‘spy’. They both share the sentiment that their new housemates are a bit unruly and need to be taught valuable lessons. But, for the most part, there does not seem to be any hostility between Tohma and Alan. In fact, they seem to have a deep mutual understanding of one another. Though, Tohma does appear to be mildly frustrated at Alan’s lack of security when it comes to his phone and technology.

Leo Kurosagi

While their only interaction was rather terse, Leo and Tohma seemed to not like one another. Or rather, Leo greatly dislikes Tohma. He seems to wildly distrust him and urges for Alan to distrust him, as well. Meanwhile, Tohma likely finds Leo as an irritant due to him snooping in on their meetings. Ready to even attack him, at first, when Leo first tricks Alan and Tohma to a meeting in the car. Eventually leading to the car being anomalously soundproofed and even their meetings taking place in a ‘gross’ forest (presumed to be the forest by Obscuary). I fully expect there to be more tension in this front.

Ritsu Shinjo

Another person who has snooped in on Tohma. Though, only in the images of a warding card. Still, we have seen a campus hangout where Ritsu crosses paths with Jin and attempts to get information from him, as well. So it seems Ritsu is, at the very least, hinted at trying to get information about Frostheim. Other than that, we can’t speculate on what their relationship is.

Haku Kusanagi

This is another tense interaction that Tohma had. In Episode 7 Chapter 19 and Episode 7 Chapter 20, we see Haku and Tohma exchange a brief but rather uncomfortable conversation. Tohma even going as far as to tell Haku to not ‘act dumb’ when questioned about why Mortkranken refused to do an autopsy. Tohma seemingly even been the aggressor in starting the conversation this go around. There’s also been hinted notes that Haku also switched houses (speculative on either Frostheim or Clementia) and is viewed as a traitor, of sorts, because of this. And also speculative that Haku has a tense relationship with Jin, as well. So- this dynamic is certainly one worth keeping an eye on.

Rui Mizuki

Yet another relationship that comes across as almost sour. Between Episodes 7 Chapter 20 and the campus hangout these two have, I think it’s quite clear that there is a level of dislike between the both of them. All while keeping a friendly air about it. They both present smiles to one another but their words come across as almost sharp and critical of one another. With Rui commenting on how it’s odd to see Tohma out and about and having conversations with others and then Tohma quipping back that it’s more surprising on Rui’s front due to his ‘limited movement’- implying that he doesn’t go out much likely due to his curse. Additionally, Rui seemed to comment about how Darkwick General knows nothing about curses, Haku responding with ‘Yikes’ and then Tohma remaining silent before excusing himself. I would venture to say that they do not get along at all.

Yuri Isami

Again, we have yet another tense relationship. Though, this one seems more on account of Yuri’s extreme dislike for Frostheim. Still, Tohma seems to go out of his way to try and strong arm Yuri into either doing an autopsy and releasing the information to Frostheim by threatening to cut funding (and then doing just that when Yuri does not comply).

Jiro Kirisaki

They have not interacted but it’s important to note that he suspected Jiro of being on Frostheim grounds and was not entirely happy about this. It could be due to the tense relationship that Frostheim and Mortkranken have with one another, though.

Overall, Tohma has many relationships either shrouded in mystery or volatile to a degree. It’s quite clear that he does not easily get along with others and seems to keep himself at a distance with them. The only two majorly positive relationships we see with Tohma are with Alan- whom he meets in secret with and with Jin, and even that one has its own tense portions.

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

Cards & Cosmic Bonds

Tohma does not have many cards, currently. At least, when compared to someone like Jin. Even so, the cards he does have seem to be quite telling for how Tohma acts and presents himself to others. Each card becoming another puzzle to create the full picture of the Frostheim Vice-Captain. So let’s take a deeper look at his cards and cosmic bonds.

Contrived Smile

The standard SSR character card we have of Tohma Ishibashi is already interesting when you simply break down the title; Contrived Smile. It speaks volumes, in of itself.

Contrived: having an unnatural or false appearance or quality. - Artificial, Labored. ¹⁴

But what does this mean for Tohma? Contrived smile seems to, at least, imply that the smile he is wearing was forced. An act that he put on that seems unfitting for his true nature. The smile that he’s wearing is artificial or unnatural.

Additionally, when you look at the card, itself, the body language Tohma has also seems to amplify his fake demeanor that he holds. Body language can be something more difficult to decipher since different backgrounds can lead to different mannerisms and there’s no one size fits all solution for determining them. But, for now, let’s look at this through the lens of a character being crafted for the sake of consumption.

The image above shows Tohma touching his face/chin. This can typically be a symbol of lying. But here are a few options for what this body language can be implying; ¹⁵

1) He may be nervous and touching his face to control his emotions. ¹⁵

When you lie, it’s pretty common to feel nervous that you may get caught within the lie. After all, lying does often come with consequences. So it would be no surprise if Tohma was, internally, a little nervous to be caught within a lie. Granted, he always manages to keep a cool and level head even when he’s having ash trays thrown at him. So being nervous does not seem to be the case for Tohma.

2) Tohma may be trying to recall or remember the details of the lie he is crafting. ¹⁵

Lying usually means having to recall details that you have crafted. This would require a bit more thinking than when recalling naturally occurring memories. It would make sense that Tohma would be recalling information that he’s crafted often enough.

3) The gesture, itself, can make Tohma seem more trusting and credible. ¹⁵

One thing that keeps repeating for Tohma is the reoccurring theme of wanting to appear as trusting. Between wearing beige, telling Jin to trust him, and overall the way he carries himself, Tohma is clearly trying to put on an air that he’s reliable and can be trusted. That he’s credible and won’t take advantage of you. Even when everyone says that he’s a side-swapping traitor, Tohma still carefully crafts himself as someone you can depend upon.

Having your hand on your face could be a way of hiding something from others or having a secret because you’re hiding your emotions. It could also be a way to cover up something you don’t want others to see. Such as if you’re sad or angry. It could also be because you’re feeling uncomfortable or defensive or even self-conscious. Truth is, there are many reasons why someone may be touching their face. You could have something that you’re wanting to say but you’re unsure on how to broach the topic- wanting to be careful with your word choice. Or you could be considering your options of an idea that has been presented to you. ¹⁵

Again, there are many reasons for someone to touch their face. The important thing to note is that when combined with the title; Contrived Smile, and the smirk that Tohma is wearing, it starts to paint a picture of someone who is deceptive while trying to appear as friendly and trustworthy.

Watchful Shadow

I won’t get too in depth with the standard SSR Warding card here, but it adds onto Tohma’s characteristics. Watchful implying that he keeps his eyes on others and shadow stating that he remains hidden while he does so. In the warding card image, you even see Tohma hiding within a building- obscured by a curtain in a window- as he’s watching Kaito and Lucas interacting with one another.

Keeping a close eye on the two other ghouls is something that Tohma also does within the story of Tokyo Debunker. Keeping his eyes on how they are handling a mission. While this isn’t necessarily a terrible thing, it does show that Tohma has tabs on those within his house. He could be keeping an eye on them to make sure that they’re safe. Or it could be for gathering information. It could be a combination of both, which would not surprise me in the slightest.

We also know that Tohma is looking for a ‘spy’. And that he is closing in on them. While we don’t know who this ‘spy’ is, or what Tohma even considers a spy, we do know that this heavily implies that he’s keeping his eyes on others, as well. Being a Watchful Shadow is not off the table for Tohma and this card definitely makes it clear that he’s silently keeping tabs on everyone.

Zipper Croc

We see the zipper croc within the world of Tokyo Debunker when MC is informed that they tend to eat litter and ‘swim’ in the concrete/pavement of the roads. Poking their heads up through seemingly zipper portals. Zipper crocs are also featured on the Campus Hangout area as well as being Tohma’s SR Warding Card representation.

While zipper crocs do not hold actual lore behind them, I took the time to depict different meanings behind both zippers and crocodiles. As well as give my own thoughts on what it could mean without any research to back it up fully.

When you look at the card image above, you can see where the anomalous animal gets its name from. It’s quite literally just a crocodile coming out of a zipper. It seems to have a rather friendly looking face, hardly malicious despite being based off of a predator animal. So breaking down different meanings of both zippers and crocodiles is an important aspect of understanding why this creature was Tohma’s SR card.

Starting with zippers, we can see a repeat in some of the themes within Tohma’s character; transition and change, revealing hidden truths, and protection or concealment. Zippers can also represent emotional closure as well as a sense of control. ¹⁶

Just as bridges, we see that transitions and change pop up once again. Zippers showcasing the various transitions and changes one can face in their life. Bridges also had offered the same, mentioning changes and transitions you take and crossing over to a ‘new life’. We already know Tohma had experienced one transition; from one house to another. Going from Vagastrom to Frostheim. This was already quite a transition in his life and something we may expect to see later on is another transition or change in his character.

There could be an indication for a need for change or transition. Moving on from a situation or a phase. A desire to control your emotions or circumstances and a need for protection against exposure. ¹⁶

Whether we see actual change in Tohma is yet to truly be revealed. But we do see him protecting others. He does so when carrying the child in the Frostheim chapter. Even going as far as to tell the kid to not apologize because he couldn’t walk and was a ‘burden’ to Tohma for him having to carry him while fighting. We also see him protecting Jin from critical backlash from his own brutish behavior by stating that Jin was merely putting on a show for the audience in the ballroom. Tohma taking on the form of a protector, of sorts, is something that we see him do despite his deceptive nature.

Zippers can symbolize a revealing or concealing aspect of ourselves. They can, from a psychological standpoint, represent boundaries we set for ourselves. Whether it be us hiding behind a facade or hiding our true selves from others or even ourselves. Only ‘unzipping’ when ready to reveal ourselves to others. ¹⁶

Hiding one’s intentions is another repeating theme we see within Tohma’s character. His card ‘Contrived Smile’ hinting at his forced appearance and how he keeps his own interests stated as unavailable. We don’t know much about Tohma or what makes him tick. But what we do know is that he’s hiding much under the guise of being a reliable helping hand. It would not be a surprise if we later see Tohma ‘unzip’ and reveal the true self he’s hiding from us all.

There’s also the same repetition of faking when you look at crocodiles and the sayings we have associated with them.

One of the first things that comes to mind, when thinking of crocodiles, is the term ‘crocodile tears’. The term simply meaning when someone pretends to cry to garner sympathy or lure others in close to you. The saying originating from how crocodiles, as animals, function. Crocodiles do cry, after all. When they spend long periods of time out of the water, their eyes begin to dry up and, so in turn, they cry to help lubricate their eyes. The saying cropped up due to the fact that many believed that crocodiles only shed their tears when attacking and consuming their prey. And it was thought they did this as either a way to lure their victims closer or due to the grief of their actions. ¹⁷

While we don’t see Tohma display feigned emotions of distress or anguish, we do know him to be deceptive by nature. That he’s willing to use any tactic in order to get what he wants from a situation. Seeing him act in such a way is very reminiscent of crocodile tears. Would this be a tactic that Tohma may consider using in the future? Perhaps if it were to benefit him in the long run, he may consider it. Though, he keeps many of his emotions to his chest. Still, we can’t truly say that we can trust Tohma’s intentions or tank feelings he may display in the future and it’s worth noting.

In Ancient Egyptian culture, crocodiles were held in regards of being strong and powerful. This was due to their god Sobek and Ammit. Both having the head of a crocodile. Sobek was associated with the Nile and considered the lifeblood of Egypt and Ammit was known as the devourer of the dead, consuming those that were deemed too sinful or unworthy to enter the afterlife. Some African cultures also hold crocodiles in high regard, believing crocodiles to be fierce and often using them as symbols for their chiefs. This was due to their fast and precise strikes to their prey, making them formidable foes. Crocodiles are also well regarded in many other cultures for various reasons- but all are deemed positive and symbols of strength and impossible feats. ¹⁸

Crocodiles are quite fierce, known for their powerful bites and swift movements. It is no surprise that Tohma would be likened to a crocodile due to his natural brute force and how quick he seems to be able to enact his strength while having limitations. Tohma also is within a higher position, being entrusted by Darkwick to have access to rarer artifacts and keeping hold of them within the Vault, in Frostheim. He, too, is held in a high regard. Albeit, not in a god-like status. But enough so that Jin seems to trust him as well as Darkwick, themselves. His influence just as strong as his powerful blows.

Jour Nekomata

Tohma’s R warding card is what appears to be a cat with two tails. Or rather, a Nekomata. Paired with the word Jour. Here, we’ll analyze the warding card and how it could pertain to Tohma, as a character.

We’ll start with breaking down the aspect of the Nekomata, first.

Nekomata, in Japanese, have a few different spellings. Each have their own connection to what Nekomata are, in relations to the cat yōkai. Starting with 猫また. 猫 - Neko, which simply means cat. また Mata Wa, which means “multiple”, “repeat”, and “either or”. ¹⁹

In instance of the Nekomata, multiple would likely be referring to their tails, of which they have two. But in the world of Tokyo Debunker, repetition is something that is a key story point. Multiple, building off of that, could be in reference to the multiple options laid before Tohma and the multiple options laid before him or the multiple faces he may wear around others. And Either Or being the selection of a situation laid before where he’ll have to select either one option or another.

猫股, again the 猫 for Neko and 股 for forked or bifurcated. This is due to the ‘split’ in the tail of the cat. ¹⁹

This spelling simply refers to the cat’s split tail and how it appears forked. Nekomata have two tails, of which we will explore the meaning on shortly.

Finally, we have 猫又. 猫 for Neko, or cat, as we established in the other two spellings. 又 for ‘again’. Nekomata sometimes known as ‘again’ cats. This is due to cats believing to have multiple lives. Typical from the saying of cats having 9 lives. ¹⁹

There could be a few ways to truly view what this means from a character aspect. Again could have multiple meanings. One such meaning could be the implication of a character repeating something ‘again’. This makes sense in the themes that Tokyo Debunker has built up. Repetition making itself known. It could also imply that Tohma will experience something ‘again’. Perhaps whatever he faced in his previous house will repeat in Frostheim. Then, there could also be themes for the ‘multiple lives’ portion. Tohma leading multiple lives and wearing different faces.

Furthermore, Nekomata have been known to be malicious. Especially when compared to the Bakeneko, which it is often mistaken for. ²⁰

Two types of Nekomata have appeared throughout literature and telling of the cat yōkai; the mountain dwelling Nekomata and the domestic Nekomata. The mountain dwelling Nekomata best known for their ability to shapeshift into humans to deceive them and then to consume them. ²⁰

Then there are the domestic dwelling Nekomata, which are pet cats that grow old and lived tragic lives. Often experiencing hardships via humans and, in turn, causing them to become Nekomata that transform and eat humans. ²⁰

Nekomata, in turn, have often been compared to cat-like vampires, since they often have been noted to drink the blood of their owners. Likely out of an act of vengeance for their mistreatment. They also have the ability to bewitch non-magical house cats, as well. ¹⁹

With all of this in mind, I personally think it starts to showcase possibilities of Tohma’s goals as well as who he is, as a person. I’ll elaborate further on this in the What May Come to Pass section. But, for now, I want to really emphasize the parts that really stick out here; Nekomata can disguise themselves as humans and then consume them, house cats can become Nekomata after reaching an older age and often come from toxic situations, and they can bewitch non-magical house cats.

A central theme in Nekomata seems to be their ability to deceive in order to cause harm or get some sort of vengeance and simply survive. So I find it curious that Tohma has this as his R warding card.

The Other SSR Cards

Perfect Mirror, a character card for Tohma, seems to indicate (in the title) another theme of copying or, at the very least, repeating what others are doing in order to mask and fit in.

Spotted is a warding card featuring Tohma drinking tea while both Kaito and Lucas are in the background, looking in on Tohma. They are separated by a glass barrier, indicating that the Frostheim Vice-Captain is out in a cafe, of sorts. Possibly meeting with someone. Both Lucas and Kaito seem surprised by this. It could be assumed that Tohma is meeting with MC, as that would be my likely guess for a game focused on having MC be the central focus for the ghouls. Or rather, she should be. But, ultimately, we’ll never know who he was meeting with.

Knights Day Off is another warding card that features Tohma. He can be seen walking with the other ghouls in Frostheim, adjusting his monocle and peering over at Jin. Hes only slightly behind Jin and, behind him are Lucas and Kaito. It seems like a casual putting between house-ghouls and nothing is quite out of the ordinary here. But, it’s still important to bring up that he definitely has his focus on Jin.

Audacious Sleuth is another warding card primarily focused on Ritsu, who seems to be listening and recording a phone call of a man with their back turned to him. The man in question is likely to be Tohma, due to the similar hairstyle and coloring of hair. But it could be someone else. Either way, if it is Tohma, it’s interesting to see that he has Ritsu spying on him to collect information. Which seems to, at least, imply that he has some sort of valuable information. Or at least, valuable to Ritsu.

While all of these cards don’t hold any major significance to them and all only give speculations, I think a lot of them really paint Tohma as someone who has connections and is secretive about them. He seems to be masking himself to fit into a world he doesn’t quite belong in. And, overall, he does seem to have some sort of deeper connection with Jin. Though, we’ve been shown that their relationship is quite complex.

Cosmic Bonds

Unlike other characters, Tohma currently (as I’m writing this), is not featured in many cosmic bonds. I did only focus on the ones his SSR Character cards are put in, so please keep this in mind.

The Order of Frostheim is a bond with Jin, Kaito, and Lucas. I think the name is pretty simple in its meaning. It’s a bond between all the ghouls in the Frostheim house. It focuses solely on the order established in their power/rankings. This is a heavy theme throughout Frostheim, after all. Between the references of chess pieces, social structures, and royalty, Frostheim very much presents itself as an ‘orderly’ house. Though, what I find interesting is that despite showing itself to outwardly be a house that follows sort of a chain of command, Tohma is the one who is currently running the forefront of the house, as depicted on his character sheet. He’s doing so while in ‘Jin’s absence’ and presumably has been for quite some time. So- what really is the Order of Frostheim?

Gentlemen with Purpose is a bond with Lucas and Ritsu. This one, I think, is also relatively clear. Tohma, Ritsu, and Lucas are all considered to be ‘proper’. They’re polite and follow social etiquette. Additionally, they all have some sort of larger purpose or goal at hand. Lucas wants to subjugate a demon to find his twin brother. Ritsu wants to win the Laurel Crown and also help his father restore his reputation to some degree. Tohma- well… he has a goal. Whatever it is being unknown to us at the time. But- he has a purpose and he’s clearly putting in the work to reach whatever his goal may be.

Faces in the Crowd is a bond with Leo and Towa. This card, I would say, is where we have to take a bit of a deeper look. Namely because we don’t know much about Tohma or Towa. Whole assumptions would have to be made, here. But I think it simply implies that these three are all people who come across as unsuspecting to others. They’re just faces in a crowd. Someone that others think nothing of. Leo, while us the readers are aware, is two-faced. He’s cruel and has the tendency to use others. But his fan base on TikTok are none the wiser. He’s seen as lovable to them despite thinking his own fans are basic. Towa comes across as harmless and generally pretty friendly. Especially towards people like Haru or MC. However, we’ve seen Towa to be quite powerful and even have malicious and cruel intentions towards others. Namely Ren and Ed. He’s even electrocuted animals. Tohma has himself appear as a gentleman and friendly but, in his very nature, he will do whatever it takes to reach his goals. Presumably even if it is cruel to others.

Shadowed Smiles is a bond with Lucas and Subaru. And this one was the hardest for me to really depict a bond between them. But I would say that this bond actually focuses on the hardships these characters have endured and the smiles they wear being a shadow of their true feelings. Likely feelings of despair and hurt. It may be a bit of a reach here. But I would take a guess that perhaps each have had some cruelties happen in front of them and, now, they offer these friendly seeming smiles in place of what’s truly haunting them. Subaru is known for being a former actor, having done so throughout his childhood. It wouldn’t be a surprise if it came to light that he had some horrible experiences due to this. Lucas, as we do know, had a twin brother. One that he’s desperately trying to get back. It also would not be much of a stretch for me to believe that he may have felt pitted against his brother. Tohma…? Who’s to truly say. But I think time will tell.

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

The Story So Far

Thus far, Tohma has only appeared in a few chapters and from what we’ve seen of him, he has not revealed much about himself. The following is what we have seen in the story, not campus hangouts, and the central themes that continue to pop up with his character.

The first time we actually see Tohma is in the Prologue Chapter 30. There’s a brief glimpse of a few of the ghouls who attended the assembly of new ghouls, transfers, and the introduction of MC and the role she will be playing here. When showing the characters, we see Tohma sitting with a smile and touching his chin. He seems rather interested in the information being presented and also appears confident, though we can also see there’s someone sitting beside him off camera and Haru, who is relaxed a few seats behind.

Were shown a small handful of the ghouls who attended this assembly, though not all of them attended. For Frostheim, Tohma and Kaito both attended. Though, Tohma was already seated by the time MC arrived with Kaito and Lucas. He seemed quite amused and interested in being there. Which makes sense for his character, as he seems to like to be in the know. An assembly where they’re assigning new ghouls to houses would be one that Tohma would be interested in attending.

The next time we see Tohma is when MC meets him in Episode 1 Chapter 9. MC being sent to work with Frostheim as she approaches Jin’s room. Peering in, she sees that Tohma is speaking to Jin, appearing rather annoyed that Jin seems to be ignoring him. He continues with his explanation of a corpse walking around and Jin continues to show disinterest in the topic at hand. This is when Tohma asks if he’s still feeling unwell and if he should call Mortkranken, which earns a disgruntled look from Jin. Then, he asks if he should contact his father, instead. Causing Jin to lash out and throw an ashtray in his general direction. Tohma seems rather unphased by this reaction and is about to continue on before MC is spotted.

The first time that MC meets Tohma, we are directly greeted with the fact that he’s having some sort of meeting with Jin. At the time, what the meeting is about is unknown to us. Though, later it’s revealed that it’s connected to the mission that will be taking place this episode. Sprinkled throughout.

We’re also first introduced to the fact that Tohma seems to purposely try to frustrated Jin by poking at some of his sore spots; Mortkranken and his father. Seemingly both things that Jin has rather tense relationships with. And the reactions he gets don’t earn a reaction from Tohma, either.

Jin is the first to spot MC and Tohma is quick to tell MC that she’s brazen for being a peeping tom. Jin then tells Tohma to use a match on her, to which he seems quick to comply with, walking over before recognizing who she is- as he had attended the assembly. He informs Jin that the matches will not work on MC due to her curse. Amused by this to some degree.

Once Tohma confronts MC, he’s quick to call her a brazen peeping tom- which, while true from his perspective, certainly was quipped. He also was ready and willing to use the mesmer matches on MC, only stopping when he realized that they would not work on her due to the information he gained at the assembly. His amusement likely stemming from the fact that Jin cannot hide the interaction from MC, at this point. And also likely a mild and secret frustration on his part, since he is also unable to hide the interaction, either. It seems that he’ll be forced to have to work with MC to some degree.

Episode 1 Chapter 11, we learn from Kaito that Tohma is the one MC should go to for things. He states, “The Vice-Captain’s been pretty much running the show lately.”

Aside from Tohma’s character sheet on the main website saying that he’s running things in Jin’s absence, it’s here that the MC learns that the Vice-Captain is the one to go to for anything. And it’s one of the first instances where we see that everyone defaults to Tohma for things, in the Frostheim house. He is, as it has been clearly stated, running the show. And we (and MC) have now seen that Jin keeps himself secluded in his room without wanting to see anyone in there.

Now that MC learns to go to Tohma, she asks Kaito where he can be found. Episode 1 Chapter 12, Kaito informs MC that Tohma can be found in a vault in the Frostheim dormitory, doing paperwork. They set out to go to the vault, with Lucas, and step inside, noting that it’s quite cold and that it’s unlikely that Tohma actually would spend all his time here. Shortly after, the trio see a student by the name of Yumiko running and shouting for someone to help her.

Tohma spends a good chunk of his time, allegedly, within Frostheim’s chilly vaults doing paperwork. Diligent despite the cold temperatures. But what’s truly interesting is, here, this is the first time we see the name Yumiko pop up. And notably, she is running in fear from some anomalous chess pieces. Running from a place where Tohma regularly spends his time.

Episode 1 Chapter 13 kicks off with some action, the anomalous chess pieces that had been chasing Yumiko now focused on MC, Kaito, and Lucas. Lucas preparing to fight the anomalies off before Tohma appears and, in a commanding tone, states “That’s enough.” The chess pieces no longer continue their approach on the trio and Tohma then asks what they’re doing there. They let him know they’re there to give him some paperwork and then MC lets Tohma know there was someone yelling for help earlier. Tohma responds with, “What person?” and the subject is dropped almost immediately, Tohma taking the papers MC came to bring him.

An example of Tohma’s control starts here. He questions why the trio are there- not appreciating the fact that they intruded within his space without permission or warning. It’s clear he keeps the vault secured and an uncomfortable place for others to linger in for long. Almost secluded, in a sense. And when questioned about the person yelling for help, Tohma asks “what person” as if he doesn’t know what the group are referring to. This is doubtful, to me. Someone as calculated as Tohma was very aware of someone being in the vault. And he quickly deflects this topic, accepting the paperwork that MC brought.

Lucas introduces himself shortly after, asking if he could be put on the mission presented on the paper MC just handed over. Tohma is quick to decline this, stating that he does not trust Lucas, as of yet, and that he would only get in his way. Lucas insist he can handle himself and swiftly, Tohma informs that he has not earned his approval. Ever insistent, Lucas tells Tohma to test him, prompting Tohma to say that Lucas has, at least, proven himself stubborn. He offers for Lucas to take up a low ranking mission of his choice and to complete it without incident. If he does so, he’ll consider him for future missions and Lucas agrees. The trio then go to look over the missions provided to make their selection.

This is the first real interaction we see with Tohma and Lucas. Lucas insisting to be given a chance to prove himself and Tohma allowing him the chance while also making it very clear that he does not think much of him, currently. He is willing to let Lucas go on a lower ranking mission and is clear with not wanting to send someone he doesn’t know well to a high ranking and dangerous mission. Assessing others and determining their skill sets and what they can realistically accomplish, Tohma shows his more analytical side here. Risks minimized are his priority of the reward is minimal. It makes sense as to why he is the one spearheading things while Jin remains hidden away.

It doesn’t take long for Lucas and the others to select a mission in Episode 1 Chapter 14. They take the papers to Tohma and have him sign the documents off. Tohma then states that MC must also go along on the mission, as it is her job to do so. Then Tohma asks for a moment of MC’s time, dismissing Lucas and Kaito.

Once again, Tohma seems to ensure that MC goes along on a lower ranking mission to qualify for the task put upon her; go on a mission with Frostheim. With it being a low ranking mission, he can ensure that it won’t be terribly dangerous for MC to embark on.

Episode 1 Chapter 15, Tohma has MC take a seat on one of the chairs, letting her know it’s more comfortable than it looks. He makes her Darjeeling tea, mentioning that it’s Jin’s favorite and how he will be unable to serve it to him for some time and may have to dispose of it. Continuing on, Tohma states that Jin is still furious over MC’s intrusion and, by default, Tohma is still not allowed back into his room.

Tension grows here when Tohma calls out MC for disrupting his conversation with Jin and upsetting him. Making a more clever approach with the topic by starting with offering MC some tea. Then calmly stating that the tea he offered is Jin’s favorite. Pivoting after to then use this as an opportunity to remind MC that she messed up and he is dealing with consequences because of it. Starting by dropping her guard and then going in to leave a scathing comment.

Here, MC has the option to respond three different ways and receives three different answers from Tohma.

1) MC responds with, “I’m sorry…” to which Tohma responds, “If you’ll be coming in and out of Frostheim, you’ll need to learn some manners.”

An apology doesn’t seem to cut it with Tohma, but he’s a little less harsh on his delivery. Essentially stating that some manners will need to be considered when coming into a house primarily built up of the social elites.

2) MC responds with, “I was there for a reason…” and Tohma responds, “You think this is the appropriate moment for excuses? It seems you need an education in etiquette.”

If you have MC state there was a reason to be there, Tohma seems to cut in a little deeper. He doesn’t value what he deems as an excuse. Education and etiquette are something needed when in Frostheim, again, in the upper echelons of society residing in this house. He’s clear to remind MC that she’ll need this in order to really get anywhere within this house.

3) MC responds with, “It’s not just my fault…” and Tohma responds, “I see. So you were peeping.”

Interestingly, if MC states it’s not just her fault- which to me feels more of an excuse than the other two- Tohma doesn’t remind her of manners or etiquette or education. Instead, he just confirms that MC was peeping. This is odd, in my opinion. If you have MC apologize or try to explain her reason, Tohma chides her. But if she attempts to deflect blame, Tohma simply remarks that she was doing as he suspected. Either way, all three options have Tohma slightly displeased and makes him come across as if he simply knows better than MC.

Regardless of what MC says, he states he’ll let it slide for now and asks MC if she plays chess. He explains the chess pieces from earlier are anomalous and that they utilize them in Frostheim, stating they grow in size and attack if they sense malicious intentions from an intruder. He tells MC to not worry, as they won’t attack, unless she has malicious intentions.

The chess pieces then hop onto the board while shrinking down, Tohma instructing MC to go first. “The player who makes the first move has an advantage.”

Chess is considered to be extremely strategic, Tohma offering for MC to go first and allowing her to ‘have an advantage’ is, still on his part, a strategic move. He knows that he has more experience playing chess so, even if MC has an advantage, it doesn’t matter. Tohma knows he will prevail.

Tohma begins to teach MC how to play chess, mirroring her moves with his own pieces. He watches MC ‘his eyes devoid of warmth’. The game then states that it seems as if he’s staring directly into MC’s thoughts and that he doesn’t remove his gaze.

Calculating as ever, Tohma begins to mirror MC’s movements. Mirroring is something that has been mentioned before in one of his character cards; Perfect Mirror. This is a theme that crops up for Tohma often- being one to mimic those around him in order to fit in or seem less intimidating. Despite his attempt at mirroring MC, it’s noted that he isn’t as friendly as he’s letting on. Eyes devoid of warmth suggesting that he is more cold and calculating than originally let on. Seeing into her thoughts- likely enhanced by the fact that he’s mimicking the moves that MC selects.

Still guiding MC on how to play chess, Tohma reaches over and grabs MC, activating his stigma. His movements quick and catching her off guard. Pointing to the board and stating, “check”.

MC would state, “It was as though his voice was inside my head, reverberating down my back, my legs, and right down to my toes. Every hair on my body stood on end. He continued holding my hand and my gaze, a satisfied smile on his lips.”

In this segment, we see that Tohma had activated his stigma and, in true Tohma fashion, tells MC ‘check’ to indicate that he won their chess game. Though, we later find out this message was also meant for someone else.

Episode 1 Chapter 16, Kaito and Lucas are waiting outside of the vault for MC and Tohma to finish their conversation. Lucas questions an anxious Kaito when he seems to be weary of Tohma and, Kaito soon confirms that he is, in fact weary. His response, being, “Are you being serious? He’s shady as fuck!! I mean who wears a monocle in this day and age, huh?!” Kaito then barges into the room and shouts when he sees that MC and Tohma are holding hands. Tohma comments that Kaito needs to learn proper etiquette for his sudden intrusion. And then the chess pieces grow in size and head towards Kaito in a defensive manner, to which Tohma states, “Interesting…”

Learning that Kaito, who is in his second year now, states that Tohma is shady. That him wearing a monocle is odd. Off putting, even. It would not be a stretch to assume that others feel similarly to Kaito about Tohma. Especially considering that he switched from one house to now be the Vice-Captain of Frostheim. Having someone from the outside ascend the rankings so quickly and also take charge in Jin’s absence would certainly lead to many others feeling prickly and untrusting.

Next, Kaito barges into the room and the chess pieces jump up to defend. This is noted as being interesting to Tohma. He also tells Kaito that he needs to learn etiquette. Again, Tohma remarking on others learning manners.

With the conversation between MC and Tohma concluding, he lets MC know she can leave but that she should take her job as the inspector seriously. Cleaning up as nothing happened, Tohma tells MC to address him by his name rather than Vice-Captain. He explains that there are other Vice-Captains and that it would get confusing. He then explains he has an urgent matter to attend to and that he’ll be taking his leave. Tohma departs and the chess pieces follow him.

Knowing that MC must take her duties seriously, Tohma reminds her of this and then departs with the chess pieces. In this instance, we saw Tohma use another for his benefit- as the following scene will elaborate, and then quickly depart to follow up on the other person he had sent the message to.

In Episode 1 Chapter 17, Tohma makes way to Jin’s room. He has a conversation with Jin as the following;

Tohma: “You have my sincere gratitude for allowing me the privilege of entering your chambers.”

Jin: “…You can take your “check” and shove it up your ass.”

Tohma: “You heard my voice, then?”

Jin: “Shameless, aren’t you? How did you bypass the soundproofing?”

Tohma notes that MC has the capabilities of bolstering their stigma use and Jin comments that Tohma “used that girl.” Tohma says yes, and that he was simply testing the claims the chancellor made and that it does seem to be true of her enhancing ability. Tohma then goes on to tell Jin that maybe he could- before being cut off.

Here, we learn that Tohma had used MC to both confirm her ability worked and to send a message to Jin. Not just a message of ‘check’ but, with the thematics of chess and Jin being the ‘king’, Tohma put himself in opposition to Jin, the ‘king’ and had landed a check on him. Not only by bypassing his soundproofing but by proving that he could find ways around his attempts of solitude. This was a power move on Tohma’s part, not only by intimidating MC and confirming how her ability to bolster stigmas worked but also by breaking through the anomalous soundproofing and let Jin know that he can and will find ways around it to get what he wants from him.

Shortly after this exchange, Jin tells Tohma to put on Johann Strauss and Tohma seems a bit confused, stating, “Johann who? Which one is that?” Jin is annoyed by this response from Tohma, asking how he could call himself Vice-Captain. Tohma quips back coolly that he at least performs his duties unlike Jin. Then Jin tells Tohma to leave his room.

A couple things to note in this scene;

1) Tohma did not know who Johann Strauss was.

And

2) It is not beneath him to make jabs at Jin and his inaction.

These are important because they showcase how Tohma can, at times, let his mask slip. He was not aware of who Johann Strauss was and this disgruntled Jin, likely because if Tohma is the Vice-Captain of Frostheim, he should know information pertaining to more ‘refined’ music, as it were. Because Tohma did not know this, it shows that he was not born into a higher class society and could not fit the part as such in a natural manner. Additionally, because Jin was frustrated by his lack of knowledge, he made a remark towards him- to which Tohma responded back harshly. Likely because Tohma has worked hard to perfect his current mask and, therefore, is frustrated that Jin would question his ability to be the Vice-Captain over something as trivial as music.

Tohma does not leave the room and says he still has more to say. Explaining that there were new developments in the case he was investigating. He informs Jin that the child in the video recording was already dead prior to the recording found and that the kid was yet to be identified. Jin comments that the kid is an orphan. Tohma replies with, “So you did read what I sent you.”

Tohma then states he will survey the area, suggesting that Jin join him as well. Jin declines and Tohma remarks, “I can rest easy knowing you’ll be safely tucked up in your room behaving yourself.” Jin calls out his snark which prompts Tohma to respond with, “You won’t be able to hide this indefinitely.” Jin asks if he’ll betray him next. Tohma does not respond immediately but then says, “You still can’t use it, can you? Understood. Please get some rest. But all you are doing is delaying the inevitable.” Jin likens himself to a tasty mouse with hungry snakes all around. When Tohma does not respond, he tells him to fuck off and leave, to which Tohma complies and exits.

Relaying the information over, Tohma does seem grateful that Jin had been reading the information he sent to him. However, things take a bit of a sour turn in their conversation when Tohma reminds Jin of his inability to use his stigma. It seems that Tohma is trying to get Jin to come out and show his face despite his lack of stigma usage. But this does not work and Tohma does not respond to this, only leaving when Jin tells him to do as such.

When we come around to Episode 1 Chapter 29, we find that Tohma is observing the trio on their investigation, but he’s not interacting with them. It does appear that he had been fighting off some anomalies, as there is one cut in half behind him. Shortly after, we see Tohma taking some pills and mentions that “this is getting exhausting.”

Tohma, ever observant, has been watching the trio as they continue their investigation, clearly working in the background of it all. We do learn later that his own mission overlapped into the trio’s mission. But what’s more interesting here is the fact that Tohma is taking pills. And seemingly after having gone into combat.

We do not know what these pills are for but there are a few possibilities I think it could be. I will discuss this in the What May Come to Pass section later on.

Episode 1 Chapter 30, Tohma returns to Frostheim just in time to hear some personal information being leaked through the Masterpiece News. Tohma seems annoyed by this, stating, “Honestly… I haven’t been back five minutes. No one has any intentions of allowing me a moments respite.”

The biggest takeaway here is that Tohma had recently returned from outside of Darkwick. For him to return back to a mess on his hands. Rumors being spread of Jin.

Episode 1 Chapter 31, Tohma walks in on Kaito and Lucas bickering over the mission and teases them by asking if they’re playing hooky. Lucas is quick to state that they had failed the mission, the group failing to capture the anomaly and it escaping as a result. Tohma asks what class the anomaly was, to which Lucas replies it was likely a Class B anomaly. Tohma explains he will check the site to ensure it’s safe for the time being and for the group to return to their rooms. Lucas then asks if he can have a chance to fix his mistakes. Tohma agrees to this, stating he will handle the paperwork and for the group to return in the morning.

It seems that Tohma is willing to give Lucas a chance to rectify his mistake. With the anomaly being revealed to be a Class B- much higher than what he anticipated it to be- and how Lucas and the others had handled things thus far, it seems he’s willing to let him proceed himself further. Testing to see how Lucas is capable. And likely also testing the MC on her own capabilities.

Episode 1 Chapter 32, we’re greeted with some Frostheim students gossiping about Jin. Tohma is attempting to call someone but is unable to get ahold of them. He exclaims that she must have taken him for a fool. Then, Jin barges out with his sword drawn, swinging it and braking a vase in the process. He tells Tohma to come out and asks if he’s the one to have leaked the information to the Masterpiece News. Tohma is quick to suggest that it may have been ‘the dear friend who left his side’. Then reminds Jin that he will always remain by his side.

Here, we can see some complexities within Jin and Tohma’s relationship. It’s clear that Jin suspects Tohma of leaking private and personal information but when Tohma states that it likely was his ‘dear friend’ who betrayed him before and it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think he would betray him again. He urges Jin to remember that he is an ally and not his enemy. An attempt to keep Jin in line and to quit with his brash actions and accusations. Level headed, as always. And quick to turn anything to his advantage if he can.

When the confrontation ends, Tohma remarks that Jin’s swordsmanship was a show for the students and thanks their guests for their applause before leaving with Jin. They go to his room, Jin dragging him presumably by his tie. Jin is quick to ask Tohma what he’s doing but Tohma deflects by saying he should be asking that, instead. And asks Jin to let go of his tie. Tohma reminds Jin that he (Jin) is seeking revenge for his mother and that he won’t allow Jin to forget the promise he made to Tohma.

This is where it seems that there’s a mutual benefit of their alliance. They both seem to be working together on some goal. What that goal is remains unknown but it’s clear that Jin is seeking revenge for his mother and Tohma is using this to his benefit to have Jin aide him. It’s likely that the revenge may also coincide with whatever goals Tohma has in mind. Regardless, they are using one another and benefiting off of one another. But it seems that Tohma is frustrated that Jin is not keeping his end of the bargain due to remaining in his room. Hiding away from his responsibilities. Something we have seen Tohma growing more frustrated with in the chapters leading up to this.

With that out of the way, Tohma tells Jin that his prediction was correct and a Class B anomaly had appeared at the orphanage. Explaining that he had handled the anomaly there, Tohma states that the case still was not over. He continues by saying that he sent the second years to investigate the mansion in the morning. Tohma says that there’s something in that house and then asks Jin what his orders are and explains that even if Jin’s stigma does not work, they will still need their help.

It’s now confirmed that the mission Tohma has been on is overlapping with the mission that the trio are working on. Once again, urging Jin to take part. That they will need Jin’s help even without his stigma.

Episode 1 Chapter 40, Tohma arrives at the mansion where Lucas, Kaito, and MC are at. When he approaches them, he states that he just happened to have an errand in the area and him being there was a coincidence. He then asks the group what their plan was and Lucas says they’re trying to find a way inside. Tohma explains he can make one for them and pulls out an artifact key. Said artifact is a skeleton key and has the capabilities of opening anything so long as it has a keyhole. He goes on to say that he has earned Darkwick’s trust and this allows him access to more valuable and rare artifacts “unlike other ghouls”.

Having earned Darkwick’s trust has now given Tohma access to rare artifacts to take on missions. Something that he clearly thinks is a privilege by his statement of other ghouls. To whomever he’s referring to, we don’t necessarily know. But we see that this statement, alone, has Tohma appear as if he feels he is ‘above’ certain ghouls. We don’t typically see Tohma make statements like this, so it’s interesting that he made a statement in front of two other ghouls and MC.

Lucas asks what business Tohma has at the estate they’re investigating. He explains that there was a case where some children had their hearts removed and Darkwick suspected anomalous activity and assigned the case to Frostheim. It was suspected for anomalous activity due to the bodies of children were discovered months after their deaths and that one of the children showed up in footage a day before their discovery, completely healthy. That this pointed to anomaly activity and how Jin entrusted Tohma to complete this investigation.

We get the details of the full overlap of investigations here and an explanation as to why Tohma is there, to begin with. It seems that both Darkwick and Jin trust Tohma enough to allow him large responsibilities.

As they continue on, Tohma notes that it’s odd they’ve yet to cross paths with anyone in the estate. Tohma tells the three of them to keep watch near Mr. Long-Leg’s room and to call him if they see anything suspicious and not do anything. Heexplains they should refrain from doing anything reckless and if they disobey he will leak Kaito’s personal information all over the Masterpiece Newscasters. He and MC then read over Kaito’s WickChat and he, again, reminds them to follow his orders before departing to the chapel.

Tohma takes command of the investigation here and even goes as far as to using blackmail as a way to keep them complaint. It had been stated before that this was never anything beneath Tohma. We’ve seen him repeatedly use others to his benefit but this is quite a brazen display of his willingness to use others to his benefit.

Episode 1 Chapter 41, investigating the chapel, Tohma says it’s clear of activity but that Class B anomalies have varying intellect and it’s possible they could be using Mr. Long-Leg’s room for the activity despite that being sloppy of them. He goes to regroup with the trio only to find that they are no longer there and wears a very angry expression.

This is the first time we’ve seen Tohma’s expression visibly angry. After the trio disobey his command. It seems he had lost his cool, though it’s good for him no one was around to see his very volatile expression.

Going to Mr. Long-Leg’s room, Tohma opens the door and notices an odd smell coming from the closet. Approaching said closet, he opens it and calls Kaito to ask where he is. Learning that the trip followed Mr. Long-Legs enter the basement and Tohma says they should stay put. Explaining shortly that he opened Mr. Long-Leg’s closet and found his body inside and that what they’re following is not Mr. Long-Legs.

Episode 1 Chapter 44, Jin arrives at the estate and makes his way to the basement with Tohma where they see Lucas fighting off the anomalies.

Episode 1 Chapter 45, Tohma seems impressed and surprised that Lucas had fought off so many of the anomalies stating, “To think he took down this many anomalies…” Lucas soon introduces himself to Jin and Tohma tells Jin to at least give him his name. Jin asks if the girl tied up is MC and Tohma says it is.

It seems Tohma is impressed with Lucas’s ability to fight so many of the Class B anomalies off on his own. He had taken down quite a few and seemed he was still able to fight more of them off if need be.

Tohma soon tells Kaito to lead the children and he will carry those who cannot walk. Jin tells Tohma to clear a path, to which Tohma states he is carrying a child and Jin orders him to not get a scratch on the child in the process. Amused by this, Tohma replies with, “No less unreasonable than the day we met, I see.” While smiling as he charges up the stairs.

We see here how Tohma and Jin work together and it even seems that Tohma is glad that Jin is giving him orders. It seems he feels as if Jin is finally taking some of his responsibility and leadership back- something he had been trying to get Jin to do for some time.

Jin tells Tohma that they’re moving too slow and to go up ahead. Tohma states one of his arms is occupied so he’s less than efficient. The child he’s carrying apologizes for not being able to walk. And Tohma asks why he is apologizing and that he’s a child and will protect him whether he could walk or not. The group then heads to the rooftop.

We see some form of compassion here from Tohma towards the child he was carrying. Even though he is less than efficient because he’s carrying the child, he does not blame it on the fact that the child cannot walk. He says he would protect him whether that was or was not the case. The blame never once being shifted onto the child he’s protecting.

Episode 1 Chapter 46, Jin and Tohma seem to share a silent moment before Jin states, “I know” before Jin uses his stigma. Tohma uses this opportunity to use his artifact to cut down a bulk of the anomalies. Shortly after, Jin commands Tohma to destroy the building and Tohma activates his stigma and swings his artifact down, causing the building to being to rumble. Jin then explains that Tohma’s stigma allows him to send vibrations long distance and with his brute strength combined, he’s able to destroy the estate with ease.

A showcase of Tohma’s brute strength combined with his stigma is displayed here. He was able to destroy an entire building with the combination. A terrifying feat, in of itself.

With everyone now on the helicopter, in Episode 1 Chapter 47, Tohma asks everyone if they’re okay. Per Jin’s request, he also goes to take the kids they’ve rescued somewhere safe. Once the helicopter lands, Tohma uses a match on the children and explains he works for an orphanage that they’ll be going to. That it will be their new home.

After they arrive back at Frostheim, Tohma exchanges a few words with Chancellor Cornelius about the situation with the Masterpiece Newscasters and the new announcement made about Yumiko being the one to leak this information. This remarks that Yumiko being expelled was a light punishment and Cornelius confesses that Jin was the one who requested the lenient punishment above Chancellor Cornelius. This causes Tohma to laugh and states that it’s quite befitting of his title as the president’s son.

Again, Yumiko was brought up and it was revealed that she was the one to leak the information to the Masterpiece News. I do have thoughts on the Yumiko situation that I’ll go into on the What May Come to Pass section of this post. Furthermore, it seems that Jin was the one to ‘reprimand’ Yumiko and not Cornelius. Tohma being quite amused by this prospect. Perhaps because Jin had gone over Cornelius’s head to hand out this ‘lenient’ punishment of expulsion.

Episode 1 Chapter 48, Tohma greets MC at the Frostheim ball being held and explains that he cannot attend to MC due to having some important matters to attend to. He lets her know that the second years are around and she should look for them. MC notes that Tohma, in his house uniform, exudes a slightly different air than usual and he leaves shortly after.

Again, Tohma has ‘important matters to attend to’, something he seems to say often to excuse himself. Another thing to note is how MC states that Tohma ‘exudes a slightly different air than usual’ while in his house uniform. It doesn’t explain what that different air is but it’s still interesting that he seems to hold himself differently depending on what he’s wearing.

Episode 1 Chapter 49, MC and Jin share a dance and when it ends, Tohma tells her that she dances well. Shortly after, Tohma and Lucas have a conversation about how the matches do not affect ghouls. He explains that he felt it was important to bring up due to Lucas wanting to speak with MC as a way to avoid having the matches used on him. Then Tohma notes that he finds it admirable that Lucas was prepared to enter negotiations.

Tohma seems to be able to read others well enough to know that Lucas was going to use MC as a way to prevent the matches from being used on him. However, Tohma is quick to explain that the Mesmer matches do not work on ghouls but thinks Lucas is admirable for being prepared for such a scenario. Still, Tohma has the upper hand as he knew that matches would not work and Lucas did not know this. But he recognizes someone who is clever enough to fish for solutions.

Episode 1 Chapter 50, Lucas then asks Tohma if he knew about the anomalies within the estate and if Lucas was sent there to be tested. Tohma tells Lucas that if he has complaints over the missions provided to take them to the staff, as they are the ones to provide the missions and not Tohma, himself. Noting that he won’t be able to leave without giving explanation due to Lucas’s stubborn behavior, Tohma launches into telling what really happened. He explains that an anomaly had been impersonating Mr. Long-Legs for about six months. He also notes that children were being eaten by anomalies in an orphanage and the anomalies were caught due to their greed of overconsumption. He then explains how Jin was doing his own private investigation with his family connections and he had a thorough plan for their escape. He credits Jin for making the connection between his case in the orphanage and the estate and goes on to say that Jin is actually a kind person.

First, we see Tohma deflect blame to the staff. They are the ones to compile the list of missions and providing their rankings. There could be a few reasons for Tohma to do this. 1) He is trying to get Lucas to realize that the staff are incompetent and untrustworthy for not thoroughly vetting the mission rankings. Or 2) Tohma does not want to be blamed and is shifting it. Personally, I think it’s the latter. He also gives credit to Jin for essentially connecting and planning everything out for their success. Then goes on to say Jin is a kind person. An odd comment coming from Tohma as he is not typically one to uplift and compliment others, from what we’ve seen. He’s either saying this because he gains something from doing this (perhaps gaining Lucas’s trust here), or because he truly means it. He finds Jin to be a kind person and thinks it’s important for Lucas to know this.

After their conversation, Tohma goes to the balcony to meet up with Jin and the two have a conversation. He asks if he can have a cigarette and is given one, Jin lighting it with his own. Jin then tells Tohma to drop the act and how he finds it shameless. Tohma admitting that he’s “grown used to it”. He then calls out Jin for being equally shameless for pulling strings to lessen Yumiko’s punishment from leaking information to the Masterpiece News. Jin excuses himself and departs.

In this brief conversation, we learn that Jin is aware of Tohma putting on an act. That he finds it shameless. Tohma seems to think Jin is equally shameless for being too kind or that he exerted his power over the Chancellor. One of the two. But it’s clear that they’re both aware of the ‘game’ the other is playing and find it shameless or, rather, annoying.

Episode 2 Chapter 20, Tohma arrives at Vagastrom and enters a car with Alan. Leo is listening into the conversation and hears only a part of it. To which Tohma explains that, ‘he’ll take care of it’. Alan apologizes and Tohma then says that they’re “closing in on the spy”. He expresses that Alan needs to keep his head low and not bring anymore attention to himself than he already has. Then he explains that he’s messing with him since Frostheim is not off the hook after “what one of ours did”. Alan says that they have a live one on their hands and Tohka remarks that he was more surprised that he got Jin to make a move.

The two, here, are discussing a couple of different topics. One about a spy. This one, we don’t have much information on. But it’s clear that Tohma (and Alan) are both trying to find a spy. He wants Alan to keep his head low and then says he’s teasing him since his own house had interfered. The topic shifts to Lucas and how he’s a bit on the wild side. But he seems impressed that Lucas got Jin to ‘make a move’. Something that Tohma had been trying to do for some time. Lucas, it seems, will be useful for Tohma.

Tohma asks Alan how his own new guys are holding up and Alan says he doesn’t understand them. Tohma jokingly calls him gramps and explains that one of them will likely become his Vice-Captain so he better train them well. Tohma notes that whoever works the best with MC will likely be given the role and how Alan has done well so far with handling everything on his own. He expresses that he hopes that the burden on Alan’s shoulders will be lightened.

Again, the two continue their casual but informative conversation with one another. It almost feels as if this is the most natural acting we see Tohma. He’s able to tease and even make little jokes. Even still, he treats it as business as well. Telling Alan that he needs to train his newbies well and that whoever will be made his Vice-Captain will be whoever works best with MC. And, furthermore, Tohma seems to find Alan hardworking. Expressing how he’s handled everything on his own. It feels almost genuine that he thinks highly of Alan.

Episode 2 Chapter 26, we learn Tohma was in Vagastrom until the middle of last year before transferring to Frostheim.

A small crumb of lore about Tohma and how he was formerly in Vagastrom before transferring last year. This shows that he was only recently put in Frostheim and how he is a Vice-Captain there.

Episode 2 Chapter 27, Alan gets a call and goes to meet up with Tohma in the car. He asks what he wanted and Tohma explains that Alan was the one to call him here, not the other way around. Leo soon cuts in and reveals himself to the two, stating that he’s the one who lured them both there. Alan and Tohma both reach for their artifacts and Tohma asks Alan to explain how Leo found out about their meetings.

Being secretive as always, Tohma seems to prepare to jump to fighting at the sudden eavesdropping. He is a bit disgruntled, it seems, by someone else having the upper hand on him. Having been tricked into meeting in the car with Alan only for them both to be duped.

Episode 2 Chapter 28, Leo is quick to explain how he asked Alan if he could ‘join in on their fun’ and was told no. Tohma then remarks about how it had to be Leo who sent the message to meet, due to the lack of typos from Alan. Leo confirms this by saying they meet all the time but that Tohma is not in Alan’s contact list and his WickChat is under a different name. Tohma seems only mildly frustrated at how he’s explained to Alan multiple times to set a passcode for his phone.

It almost feels as if Tohma was underestimating Leo by feeling as if he only figured this out due to Alan’s lack of diligence. Putting the blame on the lack of password on his phone. But tension does seem to ease up slightly, since he seems to not take Leo as a serious threat here, when only moments ago him and Alan were both ready to attack if need be.

Leo questions why someone from Frostheim is meeting here- noting how Frostheim and Vagastrom are meant to be enemies and questions why Jin is not the one to have these little meetings. Tohma explains that one of his duties is to maintain relationships between houses has been entrusted to him by Jin and how he only reports to Jin if there’s a major issue. Then states the only reason Jin was there earlier was because he was looking after their new transfer student, as he’s taken him under his wing. Then Tohma notes that he has quite an unruly new first year.

Tohma cooly explains why he’s there rather than Jin and doesn’t seem to give more information than necessary. Again, it seems he’s underestimating Leo here.

Alan cuts in and explains how Leo is good with tech, that he didn’t teach him that, and earnestly responds to Tohma’s question of if he taught him that. Leo explains how it was sarcasm on Tohma’s part and asks if he’s sure that Tohma isn’t taking advantage of him. Leo then asks how much he extorted the “chick with the dad from Saionji Trading” and Tohma plays dumb, saying he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Alan tells Leo to go back to his room and Leo snaps that he’s only trying to look out for him. Alan explains that Tohma has his own reasons for doing what he’s doing and to not meddle in his business.

Immediately, Leo does not trust Tohma. He seems to think Tohma has ulterior motives. Then goes on to bring up the fact that Tohma had extorted someone despite Tohma playing dumb at this. Despite this, Alan does not seem interested and says Tohma has his reasons for doing what he’s doing. So we see that here, Alan trusts Tohma and his intentions. And we also see that Leo does not trust him in the slightest and Tohma seems to underestimate him, in turn. Even as he’s called out for extortion, he simply plays dumb.

Episode 7 Chapter 19, MC runs into Zenji and Haku on campus and begins to converse with them. Tohma appears shortly into it saying, “My, my. What an interesting pair.” before commenting on the artifact that’s following Haku around (the doll) and how he’s heard Haku has personally taken up the investigation for it. Haku explains how it’s “in our wheelhouse” to investigate traditional artifacts. Tohma is quick to point out the use of “our” and MC internally notes that things feel tense.

Tohma displays here that he’s quick to pick up on unusual language usage (Haku saying ‘our’ when he’s currently alone from Tohma’s perspective) and the strange doll artifact following him. I think it’s clear that he thinks something is off and that Haku is hiding something.

Tohma then explains how he actually has business with MC and confirms that she’s currently working with Mortkranken. He then launches into an explanation that someone from Frostheim had passed away. Tohma says that it is in Frostheim’s best interest that the case MC and Mortkranken are working on be solved quickly but that Mortkranken had declined to do an autopsy on the body of the dead student. Haku asks why they refused and Tohma tells him to not act dumb and that they both know who made that call. Then Tohma says that Frostheim is willing to respect Yuri’s wishes but that they will not allow for someone to threaten their students and run off with personal information. MC notably is confused by this revelation.

Again, Tohma feels as if he has the upper hand here. He tells Haku to not play dumb- they both know it was Yuri who declined to do an autopsy. Then he also reveals information that someone (whom he suspects to be Jiro) had run off with personal information from Frostheim.

Episode 7 Chapter 20, Tohma notices MC’s confusion. He asks her if she was not aware of what had happened that night. Tohma replies with, “I had assumed an esteemed inspector such as yourself would be aware of the actions of your assigned house. Perhaps I had the wrong impression of you.” He then tells MC to relay a message to Yuri. That Frostheim will be giving their full support to Darkwick General Medical Center rather than Mortkranken.

Tohma is quick to call out MC’s incompetence, here. How he may have overestimated her abilities as an inspector. Then uses MC as a way to relay a message to Yuri on a subject he knows will anger the Mortkranken Captain. Again, showcasing his ability to use underhanded tactics to try and strong arm what he wants. And, either way, he wins. Either Yuri complies and does the autopsy or Yuri declines and he gets under his skin.

Rui soon appears behind Tohma, jokingly saying he’s surprised everyone here is being buddy-buddy and how it’s hilarious. Then he comments on how he finds it odd that Tohma was chatting with others since it was a rare sight and Tohma replies back, saying it’s even more odd that Rui is out and about considering his movements are restricted. Rui reminds Tohma that even though he’s been hiding, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep his eyes on everyone. Tohma then reveals that Rui’s artifact allows him to conceal himself in darkness and thanks Rui for the heads up. To which Rui replies with a simple, “no problem”.

Another tense conversation takes place. But this time it seems that Tohma does not feel he has the upper hand. Rui catches him by surprise and calls out his unusual ‘chatty’ behavior and Tohma tries to give his own witty remark about how Rui’s movements are restricted. Rui doesn’t seem put off or bothered by this comment and teases that he may be hiding but he still knows things. This whole exchange feels as if it holds multiple layers of meaning here. That it’s an attempt for them both to try and get under each others skin, only Rui seems to be unbothered where as Tohma feels more on the defensive here.

Rui changes the topic, speaking to MC to let her know he has a box for her to give to ‘Big J’ (Jiro) since he was at Obscuary last night looking for some herbs. Tohma seems confused by this, as he had believed Jiro to be at Frostheim that night and not Obscuary. Rui then goes on to state that Darkwick General knows nothing about curses and for Mortkranken to keep up the good work. Tohma only raises his brow at this comment and Haku mumbles out a “yikes”. Tohma then excuses himself and apologizes for interrupting the conversation before Haku tells him it was nothing important. He tells him good luck with chaperoning Jin and Tohma says it’s an honor to serve him and then departs.

This exchange is pretty charged. In one quick motion, Rui is able to knock Tohma off of his game. Both by saying that Jiro was at Obscuary the night before and that Darkwick General lowkey kind of sucks. Haku commenting “yikes” proves that the comment was rather scathing and Tohma is speechless. Instead of digging further, he retreats. The entire exchange almost shows that Tohma feels as if he cannot gain the upper hand with Rui. So much so that he’d rather leave than make the situation worse.

As it stands, these are the scenes that Tohma appears in and they start to really show us how Tohma is as a person. Through the various interactions he has with others and the actions he takes. The story makes it clear that he’s one to use everything to his advantage and likely the most genuine relationship he has is with Alan. Followed likely by Jin. Though- their relationship is complex and likely filled with multiple layers.

We also see that Tohma has prickly conversations with multiple ghouls such as Leo, Haku, Rui, and even Yuri to an extent (though through MC and not directly since it seems Yuri is avoiding them).

We also see that Tohma had some underhanded dealings with a student named Yumiko and it carries on throughout the Frostheim chapter and is even brought up again in the Vagastrom chapter. Extorting her for his gains.

Tohma has been displayed as someone who’s very clearly putting on an act- as called out by Jin- and uses others for his own benefit. Yet, he’s also someone who does value those who cannot defend themselves when he tells the kid that he’d protect him whether he could walk or not and to not beat himself over it.

He is a complex character with complex motivations.

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

What May Come to Pass

I want to quickly note that in this section, these are all my theories and predictions for the character path that Tohma may take in future chapters. There is a high chance some of these may be used as red herrings or simply not happen at all. But the fun in all this is to speculate, no? So please take this section with a grain of salt but enjoy it, all the same, as we explore these potential possibilities.

The Again Cat

As we discussed in the R Warding card, Jour Nekomata, one of the spellings for Nekomata breaks down into ‘again cat’. A reference to their multiple lives. Tokyo Debunker has clear themes on repetition and cycles. This theme carries on in Tohma with clear references to multiple lives. The theme also comes up with Tohma’s name, as well. Bridges being a representation from one transition to another; the ending of a cycle and the rebirth of another. With cats having multiple lives and bridges being a metaphor for going from one life to another- I can’t help but to feel that this connection is just a little deeper. While I don’t feel that Tohma is aware of these repeating cycles, I do feel like it’s too large of a theme to really ignore, at this point.

Betrayed By the Game

Now, I want to really focus on the multiple hints the game seems to remind us of Tohma’s deceptive nature. I feel it would not be out of Tohma’s nature to betray Jin. In fact, I feel as if it’s possible he’s already begun.

I want to start by discussing Yumiko and how that whole ordeal was handled in the story. So let’s go over that part step by step;

Episode 1 Chapter 12, we see Yumiko in the Frostheim Vaults running away from the anomalous chess pieces.

Episode 1 Chapter 13, Tohma denies knowing what person was inside the vault, at this time.

Episode 1 Chapter 30, Tohma returns to Frostheim with information on Jin being leaked.

Episode 1 Chapter 32, Tohma is attempting to call Yumiko but she isn’t picking up the call.

Episode 1 Chapter 32, Jin confronts Tohma, thinking he was the one to betray him.

Episode 1 Chapter 32, Tohma states he is always on Jin’s side.

Episode 1 Chapter 47, Yumiko was exposed as the one to leak information and was expelled.

Episode 1 Chapter 47, Cornelius reveals it was Jin who had Yumiko expelled.

Episode 2 Chapter 28, Leo exposes Tohma for extorting Yumiko.

Episode 2 Chapter 28, Tohma pretends to not understand what Leo is talking about.

I have a hard time believing that an ordinary student had the ability to sneak into the vault without Tohma’s knowledge. Additionally, I’m curious as to where Yumiko was able to get such sensitive information about Jin from.

Would it be so hard to believe that Tohma had ‘planted’ the information for Yumiko to gain? I don’t think so. He’s been painted to us as clever and willing to use any means necessary to get what he wants.

Additionally, we hear about the sensitive information being leaked when Tohma was conveniently out handling mission affairs. He then attempts to call Yumiko but she doesn’t answer.

Why was he calling her, specifically, unless he knew she had the information? And, again, why would she have this information? Who would she get it from?

We only see her tied to Tohma, in the story.

Jin also suspects Tohma so much as to blatantly leave his room- a goal Tohma has been aiming for some time, now- to confront him. Tohma is quick to push blame onto his ‘dear friend that left his side’ when he was, moments ago, trying to contact Yumiko. He reassures Jin that he’s on his side.

Then we hear about Yumiko being expelled for leaking the sensitive information. We also learn that Jin was the one to have this happen and Tohma considers it a ‘light’ punishment.

Finally, we later find out from Leo that Tohma had blackmailed Yumiko. And then Tohma, once again, pretended to not know who Leo was talking about. He had used the same tactic when told that Yumiko was fleeing the vault.

Playing dumb is a tactic that Tohma uses.

Extortion is a tactic that Tohma uses.

Is it truly unbelievable that betrayal also would not be a tactic that Tohma uses?

I think what happened in this scenario was that Tohma had given Yumiko information on Jin about his mother. Then has Yumiko leak the information when he’s conveniently not there. Followed by trying to contact her- likely to blackmail her to not reveal where she got the information from- and then she falls for the information he wanted leaked all along.

The thing that throw this off is why did she run from the chess anomalies if he invited her?

Perhaps he didn’t. Perhaps he simply hinted at information being in the vault and turned a blind eye to her ‘sneaking in’. What he didn’t account for was MC to ask about her. But he was able to play dumb.

Either way, I don’t have all the answers there. But I just find the whole thing very much tied up to Tohma. And his motives are more clear to me than a random NPC girl we only see a brief glimpse of.

Tohma had been trying to lure Jin to take action, after all.

Either way, Tohma betraying Jin is not something that I find far-fetched. Once he gets what he wants from Jin, will he find him of any more use? Only time can really tell.

Transition of Power

Speaking of betrayal- I find it very convenient that Tohma had also switched halfway through a year from one house to Frostheim and took over the Vice-Captain role. He also mentions to Jin about his ‘dear friend who left his side’. Whether that friend is Yuri or Haku- or even a third mystery party- feels irrelevant to me at this time.

With how often we’re shown that Tohma will do whatever necessary to reach his goals- would it be hard to believe that he set up Jin’s ‘dear friend’ to betray him (or leave his side)? To take over and ‘transform’ into that friendship role in their place?

We’ve seen him (presumably) set up Yumiko. Setting up others seems to be something he is familiar enough with.

And with the transition themes that pop up on Tohma, I find him transitioning from one role to another to be pretty commonplace. How he transitions is truly the key here. And betrayal does not seem far off the notch for me.

Cure for the Curse

Episode 1 Chapter 29, we see Tohma consume some mysterious pills. We don’t know what these pills are for or why Tohma is taking them. We can see clearly that Tohma had been fighting anomalies shortly before taking the pills. So I have a couple of thoughts on what they’re for;

Tohma has been cursed and is managing it through pills.

Multiple uses of the stigma breaks down the users body.

For the first one, Tohma being cursed and managing it through pills is not too out of the question. Especially when you consider what Rui says to him in Episode 7 Chapter 20 and the reactions both Haku and Tohma give.

That scene always sort of gave me the feeling that it was deeper than just a simple interaction. And when I thought about it, it started to make sense to me.

Tohma tells MC to relay to Yuri that Frostheim will be funding ONLY Darkwick General Medical Center going forward, due to their lack of cooperation. Then Rui blatantly states that Darkwick General knows nothing about curses.

Haku, who knows quite a bit about curses, responds with “Yikes…” and Tohma is silent before leaving.

Rui would likely be intimately familiar with how Darkwick General handles curses, considering he is cursed, himself. And there is some heavy tension between Rui and Tohma. Rui stating it’s weird for Tohma to be out and about (even in a campus hangout). Then Tohma trying to deflect by saying it’s weirder for Rui to be out (always implying his curse is the reason).

Could Rui be hinting that Tohma is also cursed?

Could the pills not be effectively working for Tohma and he knows this? Or could he be getting them supplied from Mortkranken secretly?

Either way… we know the comment that Rui said about Darkwick General knowing nothing about curses was enough to make Tohma back off and leave.

For the second one, there’s a little less to go off of. But we’ve seen Leo complain about his ears throughout the story and how they’re sensitive. Is it possible the more he uses his stigma, the worse the condition becomes?

And is Tohma perhaps using his stigma so much to the point of needing pills?

It’s possible.

But… I do think Tohma being related to curses, to some degree, and possibly even being cursed feels more likely. Especially with his tension with Haku and Rui. Both who are also quite knowledgeable on curses.

There are more things I could say here but I’ll leave it with these few things. But what I can say is that Tohma is definitely a secretive character that I expect us to learn more about in the coming chapters.

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

Overview

As I researched Tohma, I felt there were a few reoccurring themes throughout his character.

Notable ones being; his ability to ‘blend in’ to any crowd and come across as unassuming, the deception he uses on others to further his goals, and transition or change.

I don’t think that Tohma is a villain. He is a complex character with unknown motives to us, the reader. But whatever his goals are, it’s clear he’ll do whatever he can to reach them. The game made this clear from the beginning.

Expecting deception and betrayal from Tohma should be expected.

But when we peel the layers back, what will we find behind the facade? Who is the real Tohma Ishibashi? Or has he lost his true self from the multiple attempts to blend in for his endless pursuit to complete his tasks?

Tohma mentions having grown comfortable with his game of pretend, to Jin. And he fits the role well enough. Always the ever-loyal Vice-Captain, as he often reminds Jin. Trust him.

The duality of deception is that when you try hard to trick others, how far will you go before you ultimately trick yourself?

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

Final Author Notes

If you’ve made it this far, then thank you for taking the time to read this incredibly long post. It feels a bit all over the place for me. But I still had fun working on it, all the same.

Again, if you don’t agree with anything I’ve said- that’s fine! Just be respectful, is all I ask.

I will say, Tohma is not my favorite character by any means necessary. But he is interesting and complex in a way that I do find fascinating. I expect to see an interesting story from him, whether it’s something I predict or not.

Anyways. Once again, thanks!

࿆࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆ ⸅𓊆𓆌𓊇⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄῁࿆⸅⸄῁̟࿆⸅ྃ⸄࿆⸅⸄࿆࿆⸅

Credits & Sources

[1] https://tokyodebunker.com/characters/ishibashi-tohma/

[2] https://www.reddit.com/r/TokyoDebunker/s/4M8H3o4Al0

[3] http://www.aseekersthoughts.com/2010/04/tower-as-symbol.html?m=1

[4] https://spiritualmojo.com/tower-spiritual-meaning/

[5] https://www.dreamdictionary.org/dream-dictionary/dreaming-of-bridges/

[6] https://daily-ink.davidtruss.com/bridging-metaphors/#:~:text=Or%20we%20find%20bridges%20as,get%20us%20over%20a%20challenge.

[7] https://www.reneeharmon.com/2023/02/15/stepping-stones/#:~:text=The%20metaphor%20of%20stepping%20stones,doesn't%20seem%20as%20daunting.

[8] https://www.scienceofpeople.com/signature-analysis/

[9] https://www.wikihow.com/Analyze-Handwriting-(Graphology)

[10] https://www.zodiacsign.com/zodiac-calendar/may/31/

[11] https://colors.dopely.top/inside-colors/beige-color-color-of-energy-and-strength/?amp=1

[12] https://www.figma.com/colors/beige/

[13] https://www.optometristsclinic.com/b/how-the-monacle-became-symbol-wealth-edmonton

[14] https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/contrived

[15] https://www.talknerdytome.com/blog/what-does-touching-your-face-mean-in-body-language

[16] https://dreammeaningai.com/en/symbol/zipper

[17] https://www.historyextra.com/period/ancient-egypt/why-do-we-say-crocodile-tears/

[18] https://www.symbols.com/symbol/crocodile

[19] https://thejapanbox.com/blogs/japanese-mythology/nekomata

[20] https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nekomata

[fangirlstorycreator]

Alastor X Reader

Context: When you discover it's Alastor's birthday, you want to suprise him with a thoughtful gift. But would it be one he'd like? And how would he show his appreciation?

Part 2/2

You had to be very careful bringing Alastor's gift back home, especially considering you were planning on giving him a pet. Getting her home was easy, and thankfully, due to noone being in the hotel lobby, you were able to slip upstairs to your room without anyone noticing. The lady at the ranch had given you a whole box of things to look after her before she was gifted to Alastor, food, toys? A harness, all sorts of things, including a bed to sleep on inside her carrying case. Hiding her in your room, you made sure she was happy, watered and fed before you left the room, and luckily, she was fast asleep when you left her. This was the time you took to help Charlie with her planning and setting up. But, when you did spot Charlie running down the hall, she was actually more suprised to see you than you were her.

"Oh! Y/N! Perfect! I really need your help!"

"Ok, what can I do?"

"Alastor is still in the hotel, but I know he'll come in and see what we're up to if he hears us! Please! Please can you take him out until we're finished? We want everything to be perfect!"

"Ok, sure, I can do that. When do you want us to come back?"

"I'll text you when we're ready, how does that sound?"

"Yeh, I'm fine with that. Alright, I'll go ask him"

"Thank you thank you thank you!!!"

And off she bounded, straight back down the hall. For the princess of hell, she was surprisingly adorable. Chuckling to yourself, you walked up to Alastor's door and knocked.

"Ah! Good day to you my dear. What a pleasant surpise"

"It's nice to see you too Alastor. I was just wondering if you wanted to go for a walk with me?"

"My, I would love to. Let me just grab my staff. Say, before we go, might I borrow you for a moment?"

"Yeh, sure. (Closing his door as you enter his room) What do you need?"

He approaches you, desire in his eyes, taking in all of your features.

"Why.....I need you......my darling......I dare say, we were so rudely interrupted yesterday, and I would very much like to return to what I was planning on doing"

"Oh really...I can't possibly imagine what you mean by that....why don't you show me?...."

"With pleasure....."

Taking you by the waist, he has you against him, hands resting on his strong chest, feeling the warmth of his body radiating into your palms. Keeping searing eye contact with you, he's slow as he leans in, tilting his head to the side, and locking his soft lips with yours. Oh wow he was good. He captured your tounge and lips in a carnal hunger, craving the touch and taste of your lips, deepening each moment, growing more and more passionate. His hand slid up your neck and into your hair, keeping you as close to him as possible. It made you feel almost dizzy, he had literally taken your breath away. When the kiss slowed down, and he pulled away just a little, both you and him were a slignty breathless. But his smile never left, and his eyes still burned for you.

".....Oh......wow Alastor.....I never knew you could kiss like that"

"That is something for only you to know my dear.....I have dreamed of your taste for many days and nights.....and yet they were sweeter than I could have possibly fathomed"

"How long have you been imagining me?"

"Too long my dear.....too long. Now then! Shall we away? I know of a very pleasant route that can take us past Cannibal Town. Would you like that"

"That sounds nice, lead the way. Oh, and Alastor?"

"Hm?"

"Next time you kiss me like that, make it a little longer..."

"Oh ho, don't you worry my dear......I plan too...."

Neither of you saw Charlie jumping for joy when she saw you and Alastor leave, now she could set up for the party properly, without the possibility of him walking in on the suprise. You and Alastor meanwhile, had been walking for about an hour now, but neither of you noticed how quick the time had gone. You were just enjoying eachothers company, hearing eachothers stories, walking to the main square of Cannibal Town.

"I say, I see Rosie over there, shall we say hello?"

"I'd love too"

During the walk, your arm was looped in with his, and that didn't change, even as you both approached Rosie on tne sidewalk.

"Good day Rosie!"

"Alastor! Hello sweetie, back to see me so soon?"

"But of course, it's always a pleasure to see you. And I have with me Y/N"

"Hi Y/N! Gosh I haven't seen you in such a long time. How are you honey?"

"I'm good thank you. It's nice to see you again"

"Same to you too honey. Say? Isn't it someone's special day today? C'mon Alastor!"

"Ah yes....I am aware it is my birthday Rosie"

"Ain't you doing anything to celebrate?"

"I dare say, the only two people in the hotel who know of this, are dear Y/N hear, and an unfortunate dim wit who also resides in the hotel"

"But ain't you gunna do anything for it?"

"If I am being truthful Rosie, just walking through the city and conversing with Y/N, has actually been one of the most enjoyable ways I have spend my birthday, dead or alive"

Awww, that's so sweet of him to say. He's such a gentleman.

"Well aren't you a darling Alastor! (Looks between you and him) It seems you may may have found a lovely lady to finaly spend some quality time with. And I always thought you were an ace in the hole"

"A what now?"

"Never mind sweetie. I've got to go see some people who need my help in Cannibal Town, I'll see you two lovelies later!"

She happily walked down the street. You couldn't help but smile up at Alastor.

"My my, what's made me lucky enough to witness such a beautiful smile?"

"The way you just spoke about me just then. It was wonderful"

"Aha, I always make sure you know how appreciated you are my darling. Now, shall we make our way back to the hotel? It's starting to get dark"

"Wait, not yet"

Realizing Charlie hasn't texted you yet, you luckily thought of a plan B for this on the way, remembering to sneek just a little something into your pocket before heading out with Alastor.

"Why ever not my dear?"

"You've not said anything about your birthday today Alastor, but I want you to know that I haven't forgotten to get you anything"

"I know my dear, but I do not expect anyone to say or give me anything, simply because I was born on this day"

"You say that, but I just wanted to give you a little something"

"Oh ho my dear, I do believe your kiss was more than enough as a gift for me today"

"That's so sweet Alastor. But, I'm still going to give you this anyway"

"I say, what is it?"

You held in your hand, giving it to him, a small box.

"It's not much, but I used to make things out of resin, make them 3D and paint them to look like everyday things. This is just something I made that reminded me of you"

Opening the box, his eyes grew at the sight of the little home made keying. Lifting it out of the box with his finger, it was a 3D version of a bowl of Jambalaya, in a circular clear resin. It looked like Jambalaya inside a clear marble.

"Oh my dear.....it's wonderful"

"I'm glad you like it"

"I love it. Thank you!"

He couldn't contain his happiness, and pulled you in for a quick hug.

"I shall place this on my staff. I dare day it gives it a touch of class, don't you think?"

"I do, it goes together nicely. Oh, I'm getting a text"

Yes, Charlie was finished, and at just the right time too.

"You wanna head back then Alastor?"

"With pleasure my dear"

It was dusk by the time you both arrived back at the hotel, arms still linked, and his smile larger than ever. It was dark inside from your view of the window, but you did glance Nifty's head, quickly being pulled down by Angel.

"May I confess something to you before we enter my dear?"

"Of course you can"

"I didn't always enjoy my birthday when I was a child. I had not experienced a party or a true celebration, but I always did have a wonderful time thanks to my mother. I'd just like to say thank you, for helping me remember that this day can contain happiness"

"Your welcome Alastor"

Reaching your hand up, you hold his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. His eyes fluttered shut, and his ears twisted together, he even leaned into your touch. Opening the door for you like a true gentleman, your the first to walk into the dark lobby, followed by him.

"SUPRISE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!"

The voices of Charlie, Angel and Nifty all scream when you come in, turning the lights on to reveal the lobby, decorated just like a club from the 1920's, including everyone dressed in their 1920's outfits.

"Oh my word!! I was truly not expecting this! My dear Y/N, did you know that Charlie and the others had prepared this suprise?"

"I might have done"

"Oh you are a sly one...I love it. Thank you very much everyone, this is a wonderful suprise. It truly feels like I'm back in New Orleans. I say? Are those deviled eggs? And dutchess potatoes and-huh! Is that a roasted duck with a candle on the top to have instead of a cake?!"

Alastor can't help but be drawn to the table laden with foods of his memories, smiling and chuckling as he scans them all. Charlie slipped over to you, nudging you on the shoulder.

"He loves it! Thank you for the suggestion Y/N, it's perfect"

"No worries Charlie. You and the others did a great job at decorating. Aaand I can already see Angel admiring himself in the mirror"

"Oh yeh, he loves costume. Alright! Let's get this party started!"

That evening actually went really well, Alastor carved the duck, everyone ate the food, Angel and Husk got tipsy at the bar, and Nifty liked cleaning up behind anyone who was messy. Alastor still had big shiny eyes at the decor and nibbles, it truly did remind him of home. And thankfully, Lucifer was there but stayed a good distance away from Alastor, and also you. Your not suprised though, you did shout at him. You were actually quite shocked he didn't hit you with one of his wings, or try to kill you. As a sinner who spoke to the king of hell like that, you half expected to be at least suffering with a few bruises. You were stood laughing with Alastor, when Angel and Husk stumbled over, drinks in hand.

"Happy birthday smiles! How'd yah like my outfit? Pretty sexy huh?"

"You seem rather intoxicated there Angel. But yes, your attire does suit you splendidly"

"Thanks! Hey uh, I've got your present hear smiles! Hear yah go! I hope you like it!"

He hands Alastor a box with a ribbon, and upon opening it, Alastor chuckles and shakes his head.

"Angel Angel Angel..."

"What? Don't yah like it?"

Angel asks as Alastor pulls it out to have a better look, at a custom made cooking apron with his name on, and a picture of the map of New Orleans.

"It's marvellous my good man. I shall very much take pleasure in using this the next time I prepare my signature dish"

"Nice!"

"And what about you Husk? Did you get me anything"

"You own my soul. I ain't gotta get you shit"

"Aha! As humorous as ever my good man!"

"C'mon Angel. I need another drink"

You weren't suprised Husk didn't get him anything, He hates him. Next, Charlie and Vaggie came up to you and Alastor.

"Hi! I've got you a birthday present too Alastor!"

"That is very kind of you Charlie"

She excitedly hands him a small box, Vaggie on the other hand just looks away with a grumpy face. Just like Husk, Vaggie doesn't like him either.

"My my! How delightful! This is just what I was attempting to acquire on my last visit to town! Thank you Charlie"

"Your welcome Alastor! I know you said you needed a monocle cleaning kit, and I managed to find one!"

"I shall use it regularly. You have my thanks"

As Alastor chats with Charlie and Vaggie, a small hand takes yours and pulls you towards the end of the food table.

"Lucifer?"

"Hey. How are you?"

"Fine thanks. What's up?"

"Listen, I uh...I just wanna say sorry about the last time we spoke"

"Don't be, it's fine. Water under the bridge"

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeh, no worries Lucifer. Today's about celebrating. No need to think or worry about squabbles or arguments that happened"

"Oh! Thank you! I swear, I thought you'd tear me a new one if I came up to you today"

"Really? I'm suprised you didn't do the same. Your Lucifer Morningstar, and I'm just a sinner"

"Oh no no no! I wouldn't do that. Besides, I wouldn't do that to a friend"

"Thanks Lucifer. Your my friend too. So? Do you have anything to give Alastor?"

"(Grumbles) Not a gift....but I suppose......I can be......nice? To him?"

"It's the thought that counts Lucifer, trying to be nice is better than round 2. Come on then"

Begrudgingly, Lucifer does come back with you, just as Charlie and Vaggie walk away.

"My dear....oho! Why, if it isn't the tiny king? I dare say, I didn't see you there at first..all the way down there!"

"Oh yeh?! Well-"

He stops himself, taking a breath and putting on a smile.

"Yeh, I'm am short aren't I? But you know what they say, big things come in small packages, Ha! I uh....ehem....I wish you....a happy birthday......"

"My oh my? What a suprisingly thoughtful thing to say. One might think you were incapable of speaking to me without venom spitting from your lips"

"No no, I uh......can be nice.....so, anyway, happy birthday or whatever. I've gotta go!"

He sped over to Charlie so quick, you could tell he was gritting his teeth and trying his hardest not to tear Alastor a new one. But your proud that he tried.

"Isn't that nice? Charlie, Vaggie and Angel getting you birthday presents, and Lucifer wishing you a happy birthday too"

"I am rather stunned I must say. I half expected it from Charlie, but I was pleasantly surprised by Angel. One might think it was a tacky gift, but it has character. And as for little Lucifer? I believe that was far more entertaining than watching Vox loose his internet connection! Aha!"

"But are you enjoying your party?"

"Oh yes, absolutely. I'm not one for a crowd, but this is rather pleasant. And the food hear is very tasteful. Would you care for an oyster rockefeller?"

"No thank you, I'm ok. But Alastor?"

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering, if maybe we could go to your room for a moment?"

"Of course my darlin-Oh! Ooh...do you wish to 'share' some quality time? Because if that is the case, I am more than happy to oblige"

"Well, you may want to after"

"After? Hm? Now I am even more intrigued. Please, lead the way my dear"

You and him slip away up the stairs, and down the hallway to his room.

"I'll see you in there Alastor. I've just got to grab something"

"Of course, I shall await you"

Quickly, you run to your room, and see your gift for him has woken up, and is in a happy, playful mood.

"Alright little lady, time to meet your new daddy"

Keeping her in the carrier, you place a blanket over and carry her through the hallways, into Alastor's room.

"So my dear, do you care to explain the sneaking around your......I say?......what is that you are placing on the floor? And why has it got a blanket over it?"

"Well, the thing is Alastor, that little keyring I gave you wasn't your main present"

"Oh really? But I did enjoy it so! It's wonderful and I truly treasure it, because you were the wonderful lady who made it for me"

"I know Alastor, and that so sweet to hear. But........if you take a peak in hear, you'll see your main present....."

"Ooooh! How thrilling! (Gets on his knees and pulls away the blanket) It seems there is something moving in hear, let me just open this little door, and-"

He gasps. Unable to take his eyes off the little moving creature inside the carrier. His hands cover his mouth, a small tear running down his cheek, he looks so happy.

"Oh....oh my darling......this is the best gift I have ever received...."

He reaches into the carrier, carefully pulling out the little animal, cradling her in his arms.

"Are you happy?"

"I've never been happier my dear. I can't believe you've got me a baby alligator!"

"You like her then?"

"It's a girl?!"

"Yep. I know you prefer girls to boys in any animal or person, it made sence to get you a female"

"Oh.....she's perfect! I don't know how I can ever repay you"

"No need, she's a birthday present. And I hope you have fun taking care of her. Oh! She hasn't got a name yet, you can name her if you like"

"How wonderful! Let's see.....I think she looks like an.........Abigail! Yes! It's suits her, Abigail it is"

He happily tickles her smooth belly, her little tail wiggles as he does, almost as if she could laugh. His smile has never been bigger, and his eyes are filled with love. Sometimes, when times are tough, having a pet that loves you unconditionally is exactly what you need. He looks like a proud dad, placing Abigail on the floor, and letting her sniff and walk around his room and swamp area, this place was perfect for her, it won't take her long to settle in at all.

"Awwww, she's already playing in the water. She was cute when I picked her up, but now she's even cuter. Don't you think Alas-"

Very unexpectedly, Alastor grabs you by the waist, spins you around, bends you down as he holds you, pressing his lips you yours as your eyes flutter shut. He kisses you and holds you so romantically, it makes you feel lighter than air. Slowly, he let's you stand back up, still holding you in his arms.

"I never expected I gained such a romantic gentleman. I've never been kissed like that before"

"Trust me when I say, this will be a recurring and very pleasurable moment we shall share together. I can promise you that. Infact, would you like to share my bed this evening?"

"Really? Sharing your bed?"

"I simply wish to hold you and kiss you to the point you feel flush and faint in my embrace. I'd like to....quite literally take your breath away....."

"Any woman would be mad not to want that, ok. But aren't you going to be busy with Abigail? She is a baby after all"

"Worry not my darling, I am very good at caring for animals like her, she shall be happy and comfortable by the time me and you are both curled up in my bed"

"Has anyone ever told you, your a really sweet man?"

"Only you my dear, only you. (Sweet kiss to your lips). Now! I do believe I should introduce little Abigail hear, to the rest of the hotel! She will be living here after all!"

"What do you think the reactions of the others will be?"

"There's only one way to find out....."

Picking up Abigail, he ran to the staircase so fast, your hair blew in the wind. You just laugh, seeing how excitable he was at having a pet, it made you feel amazing. You smile walking to the staircase, and leaning against the banister at the top, watching and chuckling at Alastor below. He's holding Abigail up in his arms so proudly, showing her to everyone. Charlie, Lucifer and Angel actually think she's cute, stroking her head and belly. Husk hides behind the bar, swearing and shouting at the sight of an alligator in the hotel, Pentious and Vaggie keep their distance, looking a little sheepish, and Nifty sits on Alastor's shoulder, cooing at Abigail. This was definitely going to be an interesting new time in the hotel, an alligator? Alastor with an alligator? Let's see what will happen.

Link to part 1

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula - 2

simon riley x oc

tw: violence, death, pregnancy, mafia, miscarriage, terrorism

'Swinging by my neck from the family tree.'

'What have you done to her?'

Laswell's presence felt like a warm hug. She stormed in the interrogation room to find her precious trainee Eva tied to a chair, on the verge of tears, back hunched foreword in sorrow. 'Why the hell is she tied to the chair, for Christ's sake!' She repressed a smile, things were starting to turn for her. Laswell was protecting, more than anything she was understanding and smart. She knew why she did what she did, she had listened when she told her how things worked in Italy, she had done her research. She was smart, unlike the men in the room. And Grace. Grace was the stupidest of all.

'Untie her, now.' She demanded. Like some kind of sick joke, it was Ghost she gestured to, to go take off her handcuffs. She kept her eyes on Laswell, but saw him in her peripheral, moving towards her. She moved in the chair to show her hands. His heart ached a little, seeing her wrists red, the metal cuffs digging into her skin. You did this to yourself, Eva. It was weird, thinking about her with a different name. A different sound. He tried to avoid touching her while removing the cuffs, not to make her think he was on her side. Never again. Laswell circled the table to come close to her. She was rubbing her right wrist. He heard her whisper something to calm Eva down, along the lines of 'it's gonna be fine', or 'you're not in trouble'. He watched Eva's expression, it didn't change. She was serious and unbreakable, she wasn't scared, she wasn't worried at all. He tried to read her lips. 'I am not in contact…' she whispered, Price stepped in.

'Hey, OI!' His fist connected to the table, making the two women turn their heads. 'What do you think you're doing? You're under federal investigation Eva, do you understand that?!' He raised his voice. Eva's lips turned in a weird, sick grin, a smile? She sat silent in her chair, while Laswell was scolding the captain for being rude and unconsiderate.

Simon wanted to yell at her. He wanted to grab her chin, make her look at him and ask her why. Why? Why me, why did you do that to me? Who are you, what are you doing in this country? All you said, was it a lie? All you told me about your past, a lie? Why did you tell me, then? Why me?

The girl looked down at her hands while Laswell, his captain and the General spoke. Once he started looking at her he really could not stop. His eyes were glued to her face, her hands, her posture, he could not do any different. She looked tired, she looked pale, the dark makeup around her eyes lightly smeared on the skin below her lower lashes. She was sweating. And she didn’t look his way, why?!? Don’t you care?! Not even to look my way?

‘Okay, Eva…’ Laswell turned around, ‘… It’s not gonna be easy…’ She continued, he still didn’t take his eyes off her. ‘The past few weeks have been hard for your family in Italy, Tania, your mom…’, she pressed her palms to the table, ‘…your sister Maria and the rest of the clan, they’re suspecting an attack from the Caseranos, from Carmine.’ She explained, keeping her tone of voice low, calm and collected. This was nothing new to Eva. With the Caseranos’ leader in prison Carmine was going to step up, and what did Carmi want more than anything? Revenge. And money and control and what did he need to achieve that? That her family stopped interfering with his business, her family’s death possibly. Her, most of all he wanted her dead. For good reason.

Kate took another deep breath. Eva was sitting so tense and still on the chair Simon could swear she was made of stone. She looked like a painting. 'We have proof Italian special forces are preparing an intervention towards your family, towards their business with prostitution and migrant smuggling to be exact, which I'm sure you are familiar with.'

The words washed over Simon like icy water. Prostitution and migrant smuggling business Eva was familiar with... Who the actual fuck was this woman...

'At the same time, violence grows in the other clan, and its effects on the populations in Naples are terrifying. We would like...'

Price interrupted the woman with a cough. She resumed, but with sorrow in her eyes.

'We are offering a bargain. Either you cooperate, you work with us in Italy and you help us by infiltrating you own family, I guess, going undercover and helping with the investigation... It would lead with a trial for your mom and uncle, and sister too, along with all the associates...'

Eva slowly shook her head, a ringing in her ear making it almost impossible to make out what Laswell was saying. You don't get it...

'...And you get to stop the Caseranos too, their control over the northern neighbourhoods has become a dictatorship, people live in fear and -'

'What's the second option?' Eva asked.

Laswell's eyebrows raised, slightly shocked at her sudden request. Simon felt rage burning up in his chest, the last residues of hope for the girl long gone. She wouldn't comply.

'There would be an investigation carried out on you, Eva.' She declared, arms crossed over her chest. 'You'd be charged with participation in transnational organised crime.'

‘Dai… resta’, another kiss, wet and hot against my neck. I do my best to wiggle out his grip, giving I’m stronger than him I am soon on my feet. He protests some more, asking me to spend the night, but I’m already pulling my shirt on my body. It really is a chore, spending time with him. I liked him before, but that was what, a year ago? Now… it's work… It takes me another 15 minutes to get fully dressed and get him out of bed. The night is calm, it's warm outside. The sky looks smooth like a soft blanket, like it's shielding me from something evil coming from the outside. Swinging my legs over the window, Genny gives me a kiss goodnight. I hate every second of it. I don't like his hands, I don't like his arms, he just got a tattoo and it looks very bad. I don't like his eyes, I know he'll look at my ass while I walk away. I don't like how he tastes cause he smokes a lot with his older brother. I don't like the sound of his voice when he says that I'm his.

I jumped out the window cause his parents can't know we're together. Nobody really knows except for my mom and uncle. It was their idea. Genny was the cool kid at my school, he's a year older than me, he's 19. I've always liked him really, he's fit and he has a cool bike. Many of us have bikes, but his just looks better. Genny's brother is called Carmine, he's much worse. He's taller, he's quite big. Everyone knows he's in the clan and he's gonna be in charge on day. Their dad is the leader of their clan. They deal with the northern part of Naples, we're not really allowed to go there, like ever. They'll kill us. By 'we' I mean me and my sister Maria.

My sister never really worked for our mom, she's a normal child, she plays tennis. She's good at school. I would loooove to be as good as her, I recently found out I quiet like reading. I read this book called Fairy Oak, about two fairy sisters. I don't really have time to read these days cause I work so much. My uncle does my homework. I can't get bad grades cause my teachers are all scared of my family. I can't fail cause I'm who I am. I know it's kinda unfair, but with all the work I do for mom, I really don't have time to study…

I started working when I was really young, I think I was 10. My uncle told me he saw me playing with bullets on the kitchen floor as a baby and he knew I would be a good fit for the family. I start at 3pm. I have a route I need to follow and people to meet. They gave me money, which I have to count and then I give them drugs. I don't know a lot about cocaine, I know you snort it and it's 50euros per bag. I have pills, I have marijuana, but only on the weekend, business is slow on weekdays. Sometimes adults try to fool me, I have a knife for when that happens. I don't like hurting people, but what can I do? I mean, I go around with this backpack full of fucking drugs and I'm not even 18, I need to make sure they respect me, and not just for who my mom is… Is it wrong i even kinda like it when they’re frightened? I like how it makes me feel, you know, their fear… It's like I'm in charge, I'm the adult, I can hurt them if I want to or if they piss me off.

Anyways…

Carmine, Genny's brother, killed my brother. It happened two years ago. I don't remember much, Maria says it's cause it was traumatic for the whole family. In a shooting, he died. But I know Carmine did it. He did it so my family wouldn't have a leader, cause he was a boy and he was gonna lead after my father's passing. So, you may ask, why are you dating the brother of the kid that killed your brother? Well. I am gathering intel, as mom says. Things didn't go as expected for the Caseranos. When my brother died they thought we didn't have a leader. My mom stepped in, she was one of the first female clan leaders. I was the next in line. When it comes to revenge, people in the mafia don't mess around. Hey, maybe it's an Italian thing, we're passionate about things, family and traditions are important for us. I was in a relationship with Carmine's brother and, by visiting where they operated, what their deals were and with who, I got intel for my mom. I knew when they left their house, when their parents weren't around. How to get in, get out, where they kept money...

I found out their mom was pregnant. I found out when she was at 2 months, I waited till she was 7. A beautiful, healthy baby mafia boy. I knew the times she usually went to church alone, their dad had business to attend. I knew which car she took. They killed my brother so we wouldn't have a leader, so the name of the Dalla Rocca would be forgotten, our legacy erased.

By the time the firefighters arrived at the scene, the bomb had already destroyed the car and set fire to the shop it was parked in front of. People were trying to get Carmine's mom out. The baby's vitals were weak when they measured them in the ambulance. During the ultrasound, they didn't find a heartbeat.

I killed Carmine's brother before he was even born.

Revenge is a dance. Is to be expected, follows you like a shadow. And for us, in the Camorra, rules don't apply, only the ones we create. The law follows our wishes. We shape justice how's more convenient to us.

Once you're in, you'll never be out. You can try and escape, run and hide, pretend it doesnt exist. It does.

And it'll find you.

notes: back from the dead with this heavy thing!!! I am again studying like crazy but the story is planned out (kinda) and it will be published. everything I say about southern italian mafia organisations is researched, I do criminology and I've studied these type of organisations and the social response/legal side of it

enjoy xx

taglist:

@random-fandom-smoothie @lucienofthelakes

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me @asteriadisera

[magical-reid]

The Fine Line Between Pretending and Falling

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw! Reader

Word Count: 1.6 K

Prompt: 31: “You said you wouldn’t fall in love with me.” “I lied.”

Summary: When Ravenclaw Y/N enlists Fred to be her fake boyfriend to fend off a persistent admirer, she expects an elaborate but ultimately harmless plan. But Fred’s penchant for theatrics—and the growing feelings between them—turn what should have been a simple ruse into something much more complicated.

The problem started with Jeremy Tuttle.

For weeks, you’d tried to politely decline his advances, endure his overly enthusiastic conversations, and sidestep his relentless invitations to study together. It was exhausting, and no amount of subtle rejection seemed to deter him.

Desperate for a solution, you turned to Fred Weasley, a master of mischief and persuasion, to play the role of your fake boyfriend. His easy charm and love for theatrics made him the perfect candidate—or so you thought. What you didn’t realize was how quickly Fred would take the reins, blurring the lines between pretense and reality.

Blurred Lines

What you hadn’t anticipated was how much you’d enjoy Fred’s company. He made you laugh, even when you were determined to stay annoyed with him, and he had a way of noticing things others overlooked.

One evening, as you sat in the library revising for your Charms exam, Fred appeared beside you with a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“I figured you might need a snack,” he said, sliding the box across the table. “And don’t worry—I picked out the good ones. No earwax, I promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Fred.”

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a soft grin. “What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly turned your attention back to your notes, willing the flutter in your chest to settle.

The Great Hall Incident

The plan was going well—or so you thought. By the fourth day, Fred had ramped up his efforts, wrapping his arm around you in the corridors, and occasionally whispering something teasing that made you blush.

But everything came to a head one morning in the Great Hall. You were seated at the Ravenclaw table, buttering toast, when Fred sauntered over from the Gryffindor side, earning curious looks from the other students.

“Good morning, love,” he greeted, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head before sliding onto the bench beside you.

You blinked at him, startled. “Fred, what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, instead reaching for a piece of toast from your plate and biting into it with a grin.

The answer came a moment later when you spotted Jeremy entering the hall. Fred must have noticed him first.

Before you could say anything, Fred leaned in and, without warning, kissed you square on the lips.

Gasps rippled through the Great Hall as heads turned toward the spectacle.

Your heart raced as Fred pulled back, his smirk firmly in place. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

Your cheeks burned, but before you could respond, you caught sight of Jeremy standing frozen in the doorway, his face a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

Fred glanced in his direction and gave a small, satisfied nod before returning his attention to you. “Toast’s a bit dry, don’t you think?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Fred said, entirely unbothered, “you keep me around.”

The Quidditch Sweater

A week later, you found yourself seated in the Ravenclaw stands during a Gryffindor Quidditch match. It was cold, and Fred had insisted you wear his Gryffindor sweater for “authenticity.”

“You know, to really sell the whole boyfriend thing,” he’d said with a wink as he handed it to you that morning.

Now, as you watched the game, his red-and-gold sweater hung loosely on you, the scent of broomstick polish and something distinctly Fred lingering on the fabric. You felt more self-conscious than you ever had, especially when a few of your Ravenclaw friends raised eyebrows at your outfit.

When Fred scored a spectacular goal, he looped around the pitch, searching the stands until his eyes landed on you. His grin widened, and he gave an exaggerated bow in midair before flying off again.

“Ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

After Gryffindor’s inevitable victory, Fred made a show of flying over to you, landing just beyond the stands and jogging up the steps with his broom in hand.

“Thought you’d like a personal victory lap,” he teased, pulling you into a quick hug.

The sweater hung even looser now, but as Fred ruffled your hair with an affectionate grin, you realized you didn’t care who noticed anymore.

The Gryffindor Common Room

It was late one evening when you found yourself in the Gryffindor common room, sitting beside Fred on the worn couch near the fire. You weren’t sure how he had talked you into staying, but the warmth of the flames and the easy laughter of the Gryffindors around you made it hard to leave.

George, however, wasn’t letting it go unnoticed.

“You know,” he said, leaning against the arm of a nearby chair, “you don’t need to fool anyone here. We all know the ‘fake boyfriend’ routine is for show.”

Fred raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think we’re not just this madly in love, dear brother?”

George smirked. “Because you’re sitting here with hearts in your eyes, and she’s the one keeping you grounded. It’s almost nauseating.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

George grinned. “Takes one to know one.”

Fred threw a cushion at his brother, who dodged it with practiced ease, but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know, we could always move this to the Ravenclaw common room,” you teased Fred, leaning against his shoulder.

Fred shook his head, feigning horror. “Too quiet. Not enough chaos for my taste.”

Hogsmeade

When the next Hogsmeade weekend arrived, Fred didn’t even wait for you to ask—he showed up outside the Ravenclaw tower with his hand already extended.

“Shall we?” he said, grinning.

The walk to the village was filled with light banter, Fred making exaggerated gestures every time a group of students passed by to ensure they noticed the two of you holding hands.

At Honeydukes, he bought your favorite sweets, stuffing the bag into your hands with a mock-serious expression. “A boyfriend’s duty,” he said solemnly.

By the time you reached The Three Broomsticks, the whispers around Hogwarts had reached a fever pitch. You could feel the curious stares as Fred guided you to a table, but you found yourself caring less and less.

When the two of you finally returned to the castle, your cheeks were flushed from the cold—and from Fred’s endless teasing.

“You know,” you said as you climbed the stairs back to your common room, “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

Fred leaned closer, his grin softer than usual. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

Your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he kissed your forehead, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Goodnight, love,” he said, leaving you standing there, your heart racing as he disappeared down the corridor.

Not Pretending Anymore

The next evening, as you sat together in the library, Fred broke the comfortable silence between you.

“You know,” he said, his voice unusually serious, “this whole fake boyfriend thing was supposed to be fun. But…”

You glanced at him, your quill hovering over the parchment. “But?”

Fred hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’m pretending anymore.”

His words hit you like a bludger, your heart pounding as you struggled to find the right response.

“Fred…”

He smiled faintly, his usual bravado gone. “I’ve never felt this way before, and it scares me. But the idea of not trying? That scares me even more.”

“You said you wouldn’t fall in love with me,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I lied.”

Fred’s hand found yours, his fingers brushing against your own before curling around them. “So, what happens now?”

You swallowed, your voice soft but steady. “Now, we stop pretending.”

And as his lips met yours in the quiet of the library, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable truth between you.

[hertwood]

Me watching a fictionalized version of the poor men at the center of the chernobyl incident that would later die horribly for it: do you think they explored each other's bodies

[weaselle]

i had to make a solution for this for myself, mostly because of depression, but it makes a nice How To for folks who are low on spoons or could use some help in the kitchen.

Fortunately i was a professional cook for over a decade. UNfortunately the first post i made explaining it was suuuuper long. Let's see if i can do better

So you select any protein that you can cook in a frying pan -- chicken breasts, ground beef, pork chops, sausages, steak, chicken thighs, whatever. You also select one or two types of veggie (mushrooms or tubers also work, i just did this with potatoes and carrots for dinner tonight).

[i like cooking for vegetarians, but this is how i cook for myself when i'm low on spoons - perhaps i'll do another post for meatless meals]

You'll also need some kind of oil, and a sauce or two of your choice in a bottle. All cooking gear is a large frying pan with lid (i prefer non-stick) a spatula, a cutting board, and a knife.

You cut the veggies into bite size pieces, cut up enough for two meals. One kind of veggie is fine, or you can do mix two or three

Put frying pan on medium heat with a little oil. Tubers or mushrooms or go in the pan a few minutes before the protein. 2 portions of the protein goes in the pan, about 5 minutes with lid (don't worry you can still get a good sear on both sides)

Now flip your protein if it's flip-able and add normal veggies, put the lid back on another five-ish minutes.

Take your protein out and put it with one portion of the veggies in a microwave safe container. That's going to be your lunch tomorrow. Put the other portion of protein on a plate to rest (you have to let a cooked protein sit a couple minutes before you serve it or when you cut into it all the juices run out and it goes dry - the liquids thicken as it cools, preventing this drying out if you let it rest, the goal is to serve it very warm but not hot hot)

While it's resting, pour some sauce from your bottle in the pan with the rest of the veggies and turn up the heat. A single sauce/bottle is fine, i like to get fancy and mix a couple. Two examples of personal favorite mixes are 1: bbq sauce and a hot sauce like sriracha 2: roughly equal parts low sodium soy sauce and worcestershire (makes something similar to a teriyaki sauce) A swallow of wine is almost always a great option if you want to add that to your sauce too, just add it to the pan before the other sauces so the alcohol has time to burn off.

...

Here is the important bit. While your veggies are finishing, wash your cutting board and chef knife. Then when you dump your veggies and sauce over your protein on the plate, while it is still too hot to eat, you wash your frying pan and spatula before you eat. Now the only dishes you have left to do are your plate and fork. Maybe a steak knife.

...

The whole thing takes about 35 minutes even with washing the dishes, and that includes your lunch for the next day- just pour a different sauce on and stick it in the microwave for a couple minutes (or five minutes back in the frying pan) and you have a full healthy lunch with a different flavor

You can use this technique every single meal and it yields hundreds of combinations, from pork and potatoes bbq, to salmon and broccoli teriyaki, to chicken and zucchini in a soy glaze.

It will keep you down to less than an hour of kitchen time per day total for both lunch and dinner including all dish clean up, uses the least dishes, the least effort, requires the least technique, and is, depending on what you pick out, very affordable

here are a couple more examples from this month; i didn’t take pictures of the salmon i did recently, but you get the idea

it's not super fancy, but it is easy, affordable, quick, and any flavors you want. Hope this helps some folks

Happy Cooking!

[pucksandpower]

Thicker Than Blood

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc’s Ex!Reader

Summary: you didn’t think things could get worse after your long-time (ex) boyfriend chose his team over you … until you see those two pink lines, but little do you know that his rival will soon prove that a found family can be thicker than blood

Warnings: includes depictions of labor complications and Jos Verstappen

Based on this request

“Charles, this isn’t funny.”

You’re half-smiling, half-laughing, like you’re expecting him to crack any second and say something ridiculous, something that would make you roll your eyes and shake your head at his poor attempt at a joke.

But he doesn’t. He just stands there, his eyes fixed on you with a seriousness that makes your stomach twist.

“Charles,” you repeat, the laugh in your voice now entirely gone. “What are you talking about?”

He runs a hand through his hair, the way he does when he’s trying to find the right words, but they’re all jumbled up in his head. You know this Charles. This is the Charles who struggles when things aren’t easy, when he has to explain something he doesn’t want to. But this … this is different.

“We need to break up.” The words come out so softly, so carefully, like he’s afraid of them. But they hit you hard, a punch in the gut that leaves you breathless.

You blink, trying to process what he’s just said, but it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t fit. You and Charles are solid. You’ve been through everything together — the highs, the lows, the uncertain days before he was anything more than just another young driver trying to make it in the big leagues. And now, after all this time, after everything, he’s telling you this?

You shake your head. “No. No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do,” he says, his voice firmer now, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

“Charles, no,” you say, your voice rising, a mixture of panic and disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

He sighs, a long, weary sound, and looks away from you, his gaze falling to the floor as if he can’t bear to meet your eyes. “It’s not what I want,” he says quietly.

“Then why?” You demand, stepping closer to him, trying to catch his eye, to pull him back to you. “Why are you saying this? We’re fine, Charles. We’re good. What’s going on?”

He finally looks at you, and the pain in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat. “It’s not about us,” he says, his voice almost breaking. “It’s … it’s the team. Ferrari.”

“What?” You say, blinking in confusion. “What does Ferrari have to do with us?”

“They … they think it’s better if I’m single,” he says, each word forced out like it’s costing him something. “For my image. For the brand.”

You stare at him, your mouth open, but no words come out. You’re frozen, your mind struggling to catch up to the words he’s just said, to the reality he’s trying to force on you. “You’re breaking up with me … because of Ferrari?”

He nods slowly, miserably, like he hates himself for it. “It’s complicated,” he says, trying to make it sound like it’s not the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard.

“No, it’s not,” you shoot back, the anger finally starting to break through the shock. “This isn’t complicated, Charles. This is insane. You can’t seriously be telling me that you’re ending things because some PR team thinks it’ll be better for your career.”

“They’re not just some PR team,” he says, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. “They know what they’re doing. They’ve seen the numbers and the trends. They know what’s best for the brand … for me.”

“And what about us?” You ask, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “What about everything we’ve been through? Everything we’ve built together? You’re just going to throw that away because someone told you to?”

He winces, like your words are physically hurting him, but he doesn’t back down. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like? Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like you’re choosing your career over me.”

His silence is deafening. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the way he’s struggling with what he’s saying, but he’s not fighting it. He’s not fighting for you, and that realization hits you harder than anything else.

“Why now?” You ask, your voice softer now, the fight starting to drain out of you. “Why are you doing this now?”

“It’s just … it’s the timing,” he says, fumbling for an explanation that makes sense. “The season’s starting, there’s so much pressure. They think it’ll be easier if I’m not-”

“If you’re not what? Tied down?” You snap, the words laced with bitterness. “Is that what they told you? That you’ll be better off without me weighing you down?”

“That’s not how they put it,” he says, but there’s no conviction in his voice.

You feel tears pricking at your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let them fall. You won’t cry. Not now. Not here. “Charles, we’ve been together for years,” you say, your voice trembling. “We’ve been through everything together. And now you’re telling me that none of that matters? That all of that gets erased because it doesn’t fit with Ferrari’s brand?”

“I don’t want to do this,” he says, his voice breaking, his eyes pleading with you to understand.

“Then don’t,” you plead back, stepping closer to him, reaching out to take his hand, but he pulls away, and the rejection stings.

“I have to,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

You shake your head, trying to make sense of the senseless. “How can you say that? How can you just … give up on us like this?”

“I’m not giving up,” he insists, but it sounds hollow, even to him. “It’s just … it’s not forever. It’s just for now, just to get through the season. Then we can figure things out, we can-”

“You can’t be serious,” you interrupt, the tears finally spilling over despite your best efforts. “You think I’m just going to wait around for you to decide when it’s convenient for you to be with me again? You think that’s how this works?”

He doesn’t respond, just looks at you with that same pained expression, and it’s enough to break your heart all over again.

“Charles, please,” you whisper, one last attempt to reach him, to get him to see reason, to see you. “Don’t do this. We can figure something out. We always do.”

But he’s already shaking his head, and you know, deep down, that he’s already made up his mind. “I’m sorry,” he says, and you can hear the finality in his voice, the way he’s closing the door on this, on you.

You stare at him, the boy you’ve known for so long, the man you’ve loved for years, and it feels like he’s slipping away from you, like he’s already gone. “You really think this is what’s best for you?” You ask, your voice hollow, defeated.

“It’s not about what’s best for me,” he says, and you almost laugh at the irony of it.

“Then what is it about, Charles?” you ask, but you’re not sure you even want to know the answer.

“It’s about … what’s best for everyone,” he says, but even he doesn’t sound convinced.

You take a step back, the distance between you growing, and it feels like a chasm opening up, one you can’t cross. “I never thought you’d be someone who’d let other people decide what’s best for you,” you say quietly.

He flinches at that, and for a moment, you think you’ve gotten through to him, that he’ll take it back, that he’ll realize how ridiculous this all is. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, looking at you with those sad eyes, and you know it’s over.

“Goodbye, Charles,” you say, your voice breaking on the last syllable.

“Goodbye,” he whispers back, but it’s lost in the sound of your footsteps as you turn and walk away, leaving him — and everything you’ve built together — behind.

***

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden light over the room, but it does nothing to warm the cold knot in your stomach. You’ve been feeling off for days now — nauseous, tired, the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that sleep doesn’t seem to touch.

And the vomiting. It started a few days ago, just once or twice, but now it’s every morning, like clockwork.

You sit up slowly, careful not to move too fast, but it’s too late. The wave of nausea hits, and you barely make it to the bathroom before you’re hunched over the toilet, retching until there’s nothing left. You stay there for a moment, gripping the edge of the sink, trying to steady your breathing, trying to make sense of what’s happening to you.

It’s just stress, you tell yourself. The breakup, the uncertainty of everything, it’s all finally catching up to you. But even as you think it, you know it’s not true. This is different. This is something else.

You rinse your mouth, the taste of bile lingering, and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You look pale, drawn, like you haven’t slept in days. Your eyes are dull, shadows lurking beneath them, and there’s a tightness around your mouth that wasn’t there before. You almost don’t recognize the person staring back at you.

As you leave the bathroom, your mind races through the possibilities, trying to find some logical explanation. Maybe it’s a bug, something you ate. Maybe it’s …

You stop in your tracks, the thought slamming into you with all the subtlety of a freight train. No. It can’t be. It’s impossible. But as you think back, counting the days in your head, you realize it’s not impossible. In fact, it’s very possible.

You sink onto the edge of the bed, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s been weeks since … since Charles broke up with you. Since you last … Oh God.

The realization leaves you cold, your skin prickling with fear. There’s only one way to know for sure, but the very thought of it makes your throat tighten, your heart race even faster.

You can’t. You can’t be.

But there’s a part of you — a small, terrified part — that knows you need to find out. You can’t just ignore this, hope it goes away. You need to know. Now.

The walk to the pharmacy is a blur. You barely register the people around you, the sun beating down on your back as you make your way through the streets. It feels like everyone is looking at you, like they know what you’re about to do, but you push the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Inside, the air is cool, the fluorescent lights harsh as you make your way to the back, where the pregnancy tests are lined up in neat rows. You stand there for what feels like forever, your eyes scanning the shelves, your hand hovering over the different options, but you can’t bring yourself to reach out and grab one.

“Can I help you with something?”

The voice startles you, and you turn to see a woman in a white pharmacy coat standing beside you, her expression polite but curious.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “No, I’m fine. Just … looking.”

She nods, but doesn’t move away, and you feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You need to do this, and you need to do it now.

Taking a deep breath, you grab the first box you see, then another, then a third, just to be sure. You avoid the woman’s gaze as you make your way to the register, your heart hammering in your chest as you hand over the boxes, praying she doesn’t say anything.

She doesn’t. She just rings you up, sliding the tests into a small paper bag before handing it to you with a neutral smile. “Good luck,” she says, and you can’t tell if she means it or if it’s just something she says to everyone.

“Thanks,” you mumble, grabbing the bag and hurrying out of the store, the door chiming as you leave.

Back in your apartment, the silence is deafening. The tests sit on the counter, staring up at you, and you can’t bring yourself to move, to do what needs to be done. But you know you have to. You can’t put this off any longer.

Finally, you reach for the bag, pulling out one of the boxes, your hands trembling as you tear it open. The instructions are simple enough — pee on the stick, wait three minutes, then check the result. But as you hold the test in your hand, you realize those three minutes are going to be the longest of your life.

You follow the instructions, then set the test on the counter, stepping back like it’s something dangerous, something that could hurt you if you get too close. You glance at the clock, the seconds ticking by at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you force yourself to breathe, to stay calm.

But calm is impossible. Your mind is racing, a thousand thoughts and fears tumbling over each other in a chaotic mess. What if it’s positive? What if it’s not? What will you do? How will you handle this? You’re alone now — Charles is gone, and he’s not coming back. You’re on your own.

The minutes crawl by, and finally, you can’t wait any longer. You step forward, your heart in your throat, and pick up the test, your eyes locking onto the small window where the result will appear.

Two lines.

Positive.

You stare at it, uncomprehending, your mind struggling to process what you’re seeing. You pick up the second test, the third, repeating the process with shaking hands, hoping against hope that the first was a mistake, a fluke. But the results are the same. Two lines. Positive.

You’re pregnant.

The realization crashes over you like a wave, and you sink to the floor, the tests clattering out of your hands as you press your palms to your stomach, feeling the beginnings of a life growing inside you. A baby. Charles’ baby.

Tears blur your vision, and you don’t know if they’re from fear, from shock, or from something else entirely. You never thought you’d be here — sitting on your bathroom floor, alone, pregnant, and terrified of what comes next.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be. You were supposed to have Charles by your side, holding your hand, telling you everything would be okay.

But he’s not here. And now, you have to figure out what to do next. You have to figure out how to take care of yourself, how to take care of this baby.

You drag yourself to your feet, your legs weak, and stumble into the living room, collapsing onto the couch as the weight of it all presses down on you. How did this happen? How did you end up here, in this mess, with no one to turn to?

Your mind drifts back to the day Charles convinced you to quit your job. He’d said it was for the best, that you didn’t need to work, that he’d take care of you. He wanted you with him at the races, wanted you by his side, supporting him, and you’d agreed, because of course you did. You loved him. You trusted him.

And now … now you have nothing. No job, no income, no safety net. Just a positive pregnancy test and a future that feels terrifyingly uncertain.

You wipe at your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. You can’t afford to fall apart. Not now. You have to be strong, for yourself, for the baby. You need to figure out what to do next.

You reach for your phone, your fingers trembling as you pull up a job search website. There has to be something — anything — that can get you back on your feet. But as you scroll through the listings, your heart sinks. You’re overqualified for some, underqualified for others. You haven’t worked in years, and the gaps in your resume feel like gaping wounds that no employer would overlook.

Finally, something catches your eye—an ad for a cleaning agency. It’s not glamorous, it’s not what you imagined for yourself, but it’s work. It’s a start. And right now, that’s all you need.

You tap the number on the screen, your heart racing as you bring the phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, three times, and you start to think no one will pick up. But then, a voice crackles through the line.

“Hello, CleanSweep Agency. How can I help you?”

You swallow hard, your voice trembling as you reply. “Hi, I … I’m calling about the job listing. The cleaning position.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and you hold your breath, waiting.

“Yes, of course. Are you available for an interview tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” you repeat, your mind racing. “Yes. Yes, I can do that.”

“Great. We’ll see you at 10 AM. Our office is on Rue de la Paix. Just bring your resume and any references you might have.”

“Thank you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper as the call ends.

You stare at the phone in your hand, the reality of what you’ve just done settling over you. You’ve taken the first step. It’s not much, but it’s something. It’s a start.

But as you sit there, the weight of everything presses down on you again. You’re pregnant. You’re alone. And the path ahead feels impossibly daunting.

You place your phone on the coffee table, staring at it like it might offer you some kind of solution, some way out of this mess. But it’s just a phone, and the reality of your situation doesn’t change.

The room is too quiet, the kind of quiet that seeps into your bones and amplifies every fear, every doubt. You wish you could call someone, talk to someone, but who? Your friends? They’d be supportive, sure, but they wouldn’t really understand. Your parents? The thought of telling them is too overwhelming to even consider right now.

Charles? The name echoes in your mind, but you shake your head. He’s the last person you should be calling. He made his choice, and you need to respect that. Besides, what would you even say? That you’re pregnant? That his decision to break up with you for the sake of his image has left you in a situation neither of you ever expected?

No. You can’t go there. Not now.

You push yourself off the couch, pacing the small living room, trying to clear your mind. You have a job interview tomorrow. It’s not much, but it’s something. You can’t afford to think beyond that right now. You need to focus on getting through the next day, the next hour.

The baby. The thought is like a knife in your chest, sharp and painful. You press a hand to your stomach, trying to imagine what comes next, how you’ll navigate this new, terrifying reality. But the truth is, you have no idea. You’re scared, more scared than you’ve ever been, and the future feels like a black hole, pulling you in with no clear way out.

But you have to keep going. For yourself. For the baby.

You head to the bedroom, opening the closet to find something suitable for the interview. Your clothes feel foreign, relics from a past life that doesn’t quite fit anymore. You settle on something simple, professional, trying to ignore the gnawing fear that none of this will be enough.

You sit on the edge of the bed, the clothes laid out beside you, and take a deep breath. Tomorrow is a new day. A new start. You don’t know what’s coming, but you do know one thing: you’re not going to give up. Not now, not ever.

And as the night settles in around you, you cling to that thought like a lifeline, hoping it will be enough to carry you through whatever comes next.

***

Max pushes open the door to his Monaco apartment, dropping his keys on the console table with a tired sigh. The morning training session has left his muscles aching, and all he can think about is a long, hot shower and maybe a quick nap before the next round of meetings and commitments.

As he steps inside, he’s greeted by the familiar scent of cleaning supplies — a smell that’s become synonymous with Tuesdays, the day his cleaner comes to tidy up.

He doesn’t usually pay much attention to her, exchanging only a few polite words if their paths cross. She’s efficient, quiet, never in the way. But today, something feels different the moment he steps into the living room. The sound of soft scrubbing reaches his ears, and he glances toward the source — his gaze falling on a figure kneeling by the coffee table, wiping down the glass surface.

It takes him a second to register what he’s seeing, but when he does, he freezes, his breath catching in his throat. It’s not just any cleaner — it’s you. And you’re pregnant. Very pregnant.

“Holy shit,” he mutters under his breath, the shock rolling over him in waves. For a moment, he wonders if he’s seeing things, if the exhaustion has finally caught up with him and he’s imagining things. But no — there’s no mistaking it. It’s you, and you’re here, in his apartment, on your hands and knees, cleaning.

You look up at the sound of his voice, your eyes widening in surprise. For a moment, neither of you says anything, both too stunned to speak. Then, slowly, you rise to your feet, one hand resting protectively on your rounded belly as you try to compose yourself.

“Max,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, like you can’t quite believe he’s standing there.

“What … what the hell are you doing here?” He asks, his voice rough with confusion and something else — something darker, angrier, that he can’t quite put into words yet.

You blink, looking down at the rag in your hand as if seeing it for the first time. “I … I work here,” you say quietly, your tone laced with embarrassment.

“Work here?” Max repeats, his mind racing to catch up. “What do you mean, work here? You’re … you’re pregnant! Why the hell are you cleaning my apartment?”

You flinch at his words, and he immediately regrets the sharpness in his tone, but the sight of you — pregnant, exhausted, and clearly struggling — ignites a fury in him that he hasn’t felt in a long time. “What the fuck is Charles doing, making you work like this?”

At the mention of Charles, something in you seems to break. Your face crumples, and before Max can process what’s happening, you’re crying — really crying, your shoulders shaking with the force of your sobs.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Max says quickly, closing the distance between you and reaching out to steady you. “I didn’t mean to — look, just sit down, okay? You shouldn’t be on your feet like this.”

You let him guide you to the couch, your tears falling freely now, and Max feels a pang of guilt deep in his chest. He’s never been good with tears, but seeing you like this, so vulnerable and hurt, stirs something protective in him.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out between sobs, your hands covering your face as if trying to hide your pain. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.”

Max sits beside you, his mind spinning as he tries to make sense of what’s happening. This is all wrong. You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be working some labor-intensive job, not in your condition. And where the hell is Charles in all of this? How could he let you get to this point?

“What’s going on?” Max asks gently, reaching for a box of tissues and handing it to you. “Why are you working here? What happened with Charles?”

You take a tissue, dabbing at your eyes, but the tears keep coming, and Max’s concern deepens. He’s never seen you like this before — so defeated, so broken.

“It’s … it’s over,” you manage to say, your voice trembling. “Charles and I… we broke up. Seven months ago.”

Max’s heart drops at your words, and a sick feeling churns in his stomach. He’d heard rumors, of course — whispers in the paddock, speculation in the media — but he’d never imagined it was true. He’d seen how much Charles loved you, how much you meant to him. But now, seeing you like this, the reality of it hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Why?” He asks, though he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “He said … he said it was for the best. That the team thought he’d be more marketable if he was single. That it would be better for his image.”

Max feels a surge of anger flare up inside him, hot and fierce. “He broke up with you because of PR? Are you kidding me?”

You nod, and Max can see the pain in your eyes, the betrayal that still lingers there. “I didn’t know what to do. I … I didn’t have a job. I quit when we started traveling together, and now … now I’m on my own. I have to take care of myself, and …” You glance down at your belly, your voice breaking again. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Max runs a hand through his hair, trying to process everything you’ve just told him. Charles left you — pregnant and alone — all because of some bullshit advice from his team? The thought makes his blood boil. He’s known Charles for years, seen him under pressure, seen him at his best and his worst, but this … this is something else entirely.

“Does he even know?” Max asks, his voice low, trying to keep his temper in check. “Does he know you’re pregnant?”

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I haven’t told him. I couldn’t … I couldn’t face him. And I don’t want to force him into something he doesn’t want. He made his choice.”

Max sits back, stunned. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. You’ve been going through this all on your own, with no support, no help. And now you’re cleaning apartments just to make ends meet? It’s too much. He can’t let this go on.

“Listen,” Max says, his voice firm, though he softens it when he sees the way you’re looking at him, like you’re about to fall apart. “You’re not doing this alone, okay? You shouldn’t have to.”

You look at him, eyes wide, searching his face as if trying to figure out if he means it. “Max, I don’t want to be a burden-”

“You’re not,” he interrupts, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re not a burden. You’re my friend. And you’re … you’re carrying a child. That’s not something you should be dealing with on your own.”

“But what about Charles?” You ask, your voice small, uncertain.

“Fuck Charles,” Max snaps, then immediately regrets it when he sees the look on your face. “I mean … look, I know this is complicated. But right now, you need to take care of yourself and the baby. That’s the priority. And if Charles isn’t going to step up, then I will. Whatever you need, I’m here, okay?”

You’re silent for a moment, and Max can see the conflict in your eyes — the fear, the doubt, the overwhelming sense of helplessness. He wishes he could do more, that he could take away the pain, the uncertainty, but all he can do is be there for you, in whatever way you’ll let him.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I … I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Max says gently. “Just … promise me you won’t try to do this on your own anymore. You’re not alone, okay? Not as long as I’m around.”

You nod, but Max can see the hesitation still lingering in your eyes. He knows this isn’t going to be easy for you — to accept help, to let someone else in — but he’s determined to be there for you, to make sure you don’t have to face this alone.

“Come on,” he says, standing up and holding out a hand to you. “Let’s get you something to eat. You need to take care of yourself, and that means no more scrubbing floors, okay?”

You take his hand, allowing him to help you to your feet, and for the first time since he walked through the door, Max sees a faint glimmer of hope in your eyes. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

As he leads you to the kitchen, Max’s mind races with everything he needs to do, everything he needs to figure out. But one thing is clear — he’s not going to let you go through this alone.

***

Max sets a plate in front of you — a simple sandwich, some fruit on the side. He’s not exactly a chef, but it’s something, and he watches as you take a bite, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. You look exhausted, and Max wonders how long you’ve been running on empty like this.

He pulls out the chair across from you and sits down, his eyes never leaving your face. “So,” he begins, trying to keep his tone light, “tell me everything. What’s been going on since … since Charles, you know …”

You pause, swallowing the bite of sandwich, and Max can see the flicker of pain in your eyes at the mention of Charles. It’s like you’re bracing yourself to tell the story, and Max hates that it’s something you even have to relive.

“It’s been … hard,” you admit, setting the sandwich down. “After we broke up, I didn’t know what to do. I had some savings, but it wasn’t enough to keep living in Monaco. So I had to move.”

“Move?” Max echoes, his brows furrowing. He hadn’t heard anything about this, hadn’t realized things had gotten so bad for you. “Where did you go?”

You hesitate, as if ashamed to tell him, but then you sigh, the words spilling out in a rush. “I found a small place in France. It’s about an hour away. A tiny village. I couldn’t afford to stay here, not without a steady income.”

Max feels a pang of guilt, like he should have known, should have done something sooner. “You’re commuting to Monaco every day for work? That’s crazy.”

You shrug, a faint, humorless smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not ideal, but it’s what I had to do. I tried looking for jobs closer to home, but nothing paid enough. And I didn’t have many options, not with the baby coming.”

Max leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. The thought of you struggling like this, traveling back and forth every day, working a physically demanding job while pregnant — it’s almost too much to bear.

He wishes he could just write you a check, cover all your expenses, but he knows you too well. You’d never accept it, not without a fight. You’re proud, stubborn, and fiercely independent — qualities Max admires but wishes you’d set aside just this once.

“You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” Max says softly, his voice filled with concern. “I know you’re strong, but you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not now.”

You meet his gaze, your eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. “I know, but … I need to be able to take care of myself, Max. I need to know I can do this, for me and the baby.”

Max nods, understanding even though it frustrates him. You’ve always been this way — determined to stand on your own two feet, no matter what. But that doesn’t mean he’s just going to stand by and watch you struggle. There has to be a way to help you without making you feel like a charity case.

Then, an idea starts to form in his mind, something he remembers from the past, from the days when you were always by Charles’ side, supporting him in ways most people never even saw. “You know,” Max starts, leaning forward, “I remember how you used to help Charles with his social media. His accounts were always engaging, relatable … fans loved it. That was you, wasn’t it?”

A small smile flickers across your face, the first genuine one he’s seen since he got home. “Yeah, that was me. Charles never really cared about social media, so I took it over. It was fun, in a way, creating content that connected with people.”

Max’s heart lifts at your smile, at the spark of something familiar in your eyes. This could work. This could be exactly what you need.

“Well, I’ve got an idea,” Max says, trying to sound casual even though his heart is pounding in his chest. “Right now, Red Bull’s PR team handles all of my social media. I’ve never really been into it, you know? But honestly, they’re pretty … corporate. The posts are fine, but they don’t really have that personal touch. Not like what you did for Charles.”

You’re watching him now, curiosity piqued, and Max takes that as a good sign.

“What if,” Max continues, “you took over my social media? I mean, I’ve seen what you can do. The fans love that kind of content. You could work from home, set your own hours … it wouldn’t be physically demanding, and I’d pay you well. I mean, really well.”

Your eyes widen at his offer, and for a moment, you just stare at him, like you’re trying to figure out if he’s serious. “I don’t know … I’ve never done that professionally. It was just something I did to help Charles.”

“And you did it better than most professionals,” Max insists. “Look, I’m not asking you to do anything crazy. Just … think about it. You’d be helping me out too, you know? I could really use someone who gets what the fans want, who can make my social media feel more … real.”

You bite your lip, clearly torn. “I don’t know, Max. It’s a lot to take in.”

“I get that,” Max says quickly, not wanting to push too hard but also not wanting to let this go. “Just … think about it, okay? You’d be great at it. And it would mean you don’t have to keep doing jobs that are hard on your body. You could focus on the baby, on yourself. It’s just an idea, but I think it could work.”

You’re silent for a long moment, your gaze dropping to the plate in front of you as you consider his offer. Max waits, his heart pounding in his chest, hoping he hasn’t overstepped, hoping you’ll see this for what it is — a chance, an opportunity to take some of the weight off your shoulders.

Finally, you look up, and Max can see the conflict in your eyes. “I appreciate it, Max. Really, I do. It’s just … it’s a big change, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for it.”

“I get that,” Max says, his voice gentle. “But you don’t have to decide right now. Take some time, think it over. I just want you to know that the offer’s there. No pressure, no strings attached. Just … a way to make things a little easier for you.”

You nod slowly, your fingers toying with the edge of the napkin on the table. “I’ll think about it,” you finally say, your voice soft but sincere. “I really will.”

Max feels a rush of relief at your words, and he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. “That’s all I ask. And, in the meantime, you can stay here tonight. No more commuting back and forth, okay?”

You start to protest, but Max cuts you off before you can even get the words out. “No arguments. You’re staying here. I’ve got plenty of room, and you shouldn’t be traveling so much. Just … stay, and we’ll figure things out together.”

You open your mouth to argue, but something in Max’s expression must convince you otherwise, because you close it again and nod. “Okay,” you agree, though you still look a little uncertain.

Max stands up, picking up the empty plates from the table. “Good. Now, you get some rest, and we’ll talk more in the morning.”

As he carries the plates to the sink, he feels a strange mix of emotions swirling in his chest. Anger at Charles for putting you in this situation, frustration that you’re too proud to accept help, and something else — something deeper, a fierce determination to make sure you and the baby are taken care of, no matter what.

He doesn’t know what the future holds, doesn’t know how things will play out between you and Charles, but one thing is certain: he’s not going to let you go through this alone. You’ve been there for him in the past, supporting Charles, cheering Max on from the sidelines, and now it’s his turn to be there for you.

As he turns off the kitchen light and heads to his room, he makes a silent vow to himself. Whatever it takes, he’s going to make sure you’re okay. He’s going to be the friend you need, the support you deserve, and he’s not going to let you down. Not now, not ever.

***

Max enters his apartment, the familiar sounds of his footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floor. He’s looking forward to a quiet evening, maybe some time with his cats before bed. But when he steps into the living room, he stops in his tracks.

There you are, stretched out on his couch, resting. Jimmy and Sassy have claimed spots on either side of you. Jimmy’s large frame is draped over your legs, purring softly, while Sassy is curled up protectively near your stomach, her eyes half-closed but alert. The sight is so domestic, so peaceful, that it makes something tighten in Max’s chest. It’s a scene he’s never imagined but now, seeing it, it feels … right.

He’s struck by how well you fit here, in his home, in his life. The way you’ve naturally fallen into this space, as if you’ve always belonged. There’s something about the way you’re lying there, with Jimmy and Sassy close by, that tugs at his heart. He wonders if they sense the life growing inside you, if they somehow understand the significance of the new presence in the apartment.

Max approaches quietly, not wanting to disturb the serene moment. He can see now that you’ve fallen asleep, your breathing slow and steady, a slight smile playing on your lips. You look peaceful, more so than you have since you arrived. It’s a relief to see you like this, to know you’re finally resting.

He stands there for a moment, just watching. He’s not sure how long he’s been standing there, time seems to stretch as he takes in the scene. There’s something intimate about it, something that makes him feel protective, like he’s responsible for making sure you and the baby are safe, comfortable. He’s not sure when that shift happened, when he started to care so deeply, but it’s undeniable now.

Carefully, Max leans down and gently scoops you into his arms, trying not to wake you. You stir slightly, mumbling something in your sleep, but then settle back down, your head resting against his chest. Max holds his breath, half-expecting you to wake up and question what he’s doing, but you remain blissfully unaware, lost in whatever dream you’re having.

He’s careful as he carries you down the hallway to the guest room, taking slow, measured steps so he doesn’t jostle you too much. It’s strange, carrying you like this. Not that you’re heavy — far from it — but the weight of responsibility he feels is almost overwhelming. You’re so vulnerable right now, so trusting, and it makes Max even more determined to make sure you’re okay.

When he reaches the guest room, Max pushes the door open with his foot, grateful that it’s already ajar. He steps inside, the soft light from the hallway spilling into the room. The bed is already made, and Max lowers you onto it gently, careful not to disturb your sleep.

He takes a moment to tuck the blanket around you, making sure you’re comfortable. You murmur something again, shifting slightly, and Max freezes, worried he might have woken you. But you just settle deeper into the bed, sighing contentedly, still fast asleep.

Max lingers for a moment, his hand hovering near your face. He’s not sure what compels him to do it, but he finds himself leaning down, pressing a soft, hesitant kiss to your forehead. It’s a simple gesture, one filled with a mix of affection, protectiveness, and something else he can’t quite put into words. He pulls back quickly, almost embarrassed by the tenderness of it, but you don’t wake.

He steps back, watching you for a moment longer. You look so peaceful, and Max feels a strange sense of contentment, like he’s done something right for once. The day’s exhaustion is starting to catch up with him, but he can’t quite bring himself to leave the room just yet.

There’s something about the way you’re sleeping, surrounded by warmth and comfort, that makes him feel … happy. It’s a feeling he’s not used to, but one he finds himself embracing more and more as time goes on.

Finally, Max turns and quietly leaves the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He heads back to the living room, where Jimmy and Sassy are still curled up on the couch, seemingly unbothered by the absence of their human pillow. Max sinks into the armchair across from them, running a hand through his hair as he tries to process everything that’s happened today.

He thinks back to the offer he made you earlier, wondering if you’ll actually take him up on it. Part of him worries that you’ll say no, that you’ll insist on doing everything yourself, but he hopes that maybe, just maybe, you’ll realize that accepting help doesn’t make you weak.

Max has never been good with words, but he meant everything he said. He wants to help you, to make things easier for you, and not just because he feels responsible. There’s something deeper at play here, something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s there all the same.

He’s never been in a situation like this before, never had someone depend on him in this way, and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating. Max isn’t sure what the future holds, but for the first time in a long time, he feels like he’s on the right path, like he’s doing something that actually matters.

As he sits there, the sounds of the city outside muted by the thick walls of the apartment, Max lets himself imagine what it would be like if this became a regular thing — if you stayed, if you became a part of his life, more than just a guest in his home. The thought sends a wave of warmth through him, a sense of belonging that he’s not sure he’s ever felt before.

But he pushes the thought aside, not wanting to get ahead of himself. One step at a time. First, he needs to make sure you’re okay, make sure you’re taken care of. Everything else can come later.

Max finally gets up from the armchair, heading to his own bedroom. The day’s events have left him drained, both physically and emotionally, and he knows he needs rest if he’s going to be any good to you tomorrow.

As he climbs into bed, pulling the covers over himself, Max’s thoughts drift back to you, sleeping soundly in the guest room just down the hall. He hopes you’re dreaming of something peaceful, something that takes your mind off all the worries you’ve been carrying.

And as he closes his eyes, the last image that flits through his mind is of you, smiling softly in your sleep, with Jimmy and Sassy curled up protectively around you. It’s a good image, one that brings a small, contented smile to his own lips as he finally drifts off to sleep.

Tonight, for the first time in a long time, Max feels like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

***

The smell of coffee fills the kitchen, mingling with the soft morning light that streams through the windows. Max is already at the table, scrolling through his phone, but he looks up as you enter, offering a small, warm smile. He’s still not quite used to this — having someone else here in his space, sharing these quiet moments — but it feels right in a way he hadn’t expected.

“Morning,” he says, his voice a little rough from sleep. “How’d you sleep?”

“Better,” you admit, reaching for the kettle to make your own cup of tea. “Thanks for … everything yesterday.”

Max waves it off, trying to seem nonchalant, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes — concern, maybe, or something deeper. “You needed it,” he says simply. “And it’s not over yet. We still need to talk about that job offer.”

You nod, pouring hot water over the tea bag and watching as the steam rises. “I’ve been thinking about it,” you start, your voice hesitant. “And … I think I want to accept it.”

Max feels a surge of relief, though he tries not to show it. “You sure? No pressure, if you’ve changed your mind.”

“No, I’m sure.” You take a seat across from him, your hands wrapped around the warm mug. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said. I need something … something to focus on that doesn’t involve cleaning floors or worrying about everything all the time. Plus, it’s something I know I can do. And I’ll be able to take care of myself, of the baby, without pushing myself too hard.”

Max nods, his relief turning into something warmer, almost like pride. “Good,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “I’m glad you’re taking it. I think you’ll be great at it.”

There’s a pause, the two of you just sipping your drinks in comfortable silence. But Max can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this, that there’s something else you need but aren’t asking for.

“So,” he begins carefully, “where are you planning on staying? I mean, if you’re going to be working for me … you’re going to need somewhere closer than … wherever you’ve been staying.”

You look up, caught off guard. “I … I hadn’t thought about that yet. I was planning on going back to France and just-”

“Stay here,” Max interrupts, surprising even himself with how quickly the words come out. “I mean, it makes sense, right? You wouldn’t have to travel so far every day. Plus, it’s safer for you and the baby. You’ll have everything you need, and I’ll be around to help if you need anything.”

You hesitate, clearly torn. “I don’t want to be a burden, Max. You’ve already done so much-”

“You’re not a burden,” Max says firmly. “You’re my friend, and you need help. It’s that simple.”

There’s a long pause as you consider his words, weighing your options. Finally, you sigh, nodding slowly. “Okay. I’ll stay. But only until I figure things out.”

Max grins, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. “Deal.”

There’s a moment of shared relief before Max’s mind drifts to a more practical matter. “Right, so … there’s one more thing,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t really have much in the fridge besides, like, trainer-approved meals and protein shakes. We’re gonna need to do some shopping.”

You laugh softly, the first genuine laugh he’s heard from you in what feels like forever. “Okay, I guess we should take care of that then.”

Max stands, grabbing his keys from the counter. “Let’s go before it gets too busy.”

***

The grocery store is bustling with the mid-morning crowd, but there’s something oddly comforting about the normalcy of it all. Max pushes the cart as you walk beside him, selecting fruits and vegetables, adding them to the growing pile.

Max watches you closely, noting the way your shoulders relax a little as you focus on the mundane task of picking out produce. He’s glad to see you like this — calm, in control. You seem to know exactly what you need, even as you pause occasionally to consider an item before adding it to the cart.

“Max,” you ask after a moment, turning to him with a slight frown, “do you even like any of this stuff, or am I just buying what I want?”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “I’ll eat whatever, really. Just make sure there’s enough for you and the baby.” He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “You know more about this stuff than I do, anyway.”

You give him a small smile, but it’s clear that the reality of your situation is still weighing heavily on you. Max wants to say something reassuring, but before he can find the right words, someone else does it for him.

“Y/N?”

The voice comes from behind you, and you both turn to see Pascale Leclerc standing a few feet away, her eyes wide with shock. She looks between you and Max, her gaze lingering on your rounded belly before returning to your face. “I …I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. “Pascale,” you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady. “Hi.”

Pascale takes a step closer, her expression shifting from surprise to concern. “You’re … pregnant?” she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. “What happened? Charles said you broke up with him-”

You shake your head, your throat tightening. “No, Pascale. I didn’t break up with him. He … he broke up with me. Said it was because of the PR team at Ferrari. They thought he’d be more marketable if he was single.”

Pascale’s eyes widen in horror. “What? He told me … he told me it was mutual, that you both agreed it was for the best.”

Tears prick at your eyes as you shake your head again. “No, it wasn’t mutual. It wasn’t my choice.”

Max, who’s been standing silently beside you, finally speaks up, his voice filled with anger on your behalf. “Charles lied to you, Pascale. He left her, and he doesn’t even know she’s pregnant.”

Pascale’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes welling with tears. “Oh, mon Dieu,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “I had no idea. Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Please, Pascale,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “please don’t tell Charles about the baby. I … I don’t want him to know.”

Pascale looks at you, torn, but eventually nods. “Okay. I won’t tell him,” she promises, her voice gentle but firm. “But …Y/N, I want to be a part of my grandchild’s life. I want to be there for you, for both of you.”

The sincerity in her voice breaks down the last of your defenses, and you find yourself nodding, unable to hold back the tears any longer. “Okay,” you manage to say, your voice choked with emotion. “I … I’d like that.”

Pascale steps forward, wrapping you in a gentle hug. “You’re not alone, ma chérie,” she whispers, her voice soothing. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

You cling to her for a moment, taking comfort in her words, before finally pulling back. “Thank you,” you say, wiping at your eyes. “Thank you so much.”

Max, who’s been watching the interaction with a mixture of relief and concern, gently places a hand on your back. “We should finish up,” he says softly, giving Pascale a nod. “Take care, Pascale.”

Pascale smiles through her own tears, giving Max a grateful look. “You too, Max. And Y/N … call me if you need anything. Anytime.”

You nod, giving her a small, shaky smile before turning back to the cart. As you and Max continue shopping, the weight of the encounter settles over you, leaving you emotionally drained. Max notices, his usual silence becoming a source of comfort as he quietly takes over, finishing up the shopping and paying for everything without another word.

***

The drive back to Max’s apartment is quiet, the earlier lightness of the morning replaced by a heavy, lingering tension. You stare out the window, lost in thought, replaying the encounter with Pascale over and over in your mind.

By the time you reach the apartment, you’re exhausted — physically and emotionally. Max parks the car and helps you carry the groceries inside, his movements careful and deliberate as if he’s trying to shield you from any further stress.

Once everything is put away, Max leads you to the living room, where you sink onto the couch, your body sagging with relief. He sits beside you, watching as you struggle to hold back tears, and finally, the dam breaks.

You bury your face in his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably, all the fear and uncertainty and pain you’ve been holding in finally spilling out. Max wraps his arms around you, holding you close, his hand gently rubbing your back as he whispers soothing words into your ear.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice steady and calm. “Let it out. I’m here.”

You cry until there are no tears left, until you’re too exhausted to do anything but lean against Max, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your sobs. Max doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, just keeps holding you as if his presence alone can shield you from everything that’s gone wrong.

When you finally pull back, your eyes are red and puffy, your face wet with tears. “Sorry,” you mumble, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize,” Max interrupts gently, his voice soft but firm. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re going through a lot, and you don’t have to hold it all in.”

You nod, still feeling raw and exposed, but there’s something comforting in the way Max is looking at you — like he’s not judging you, like he genuinely cares.

“Thanks,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Max offers you a small smile, his hand still resting on your back. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he says. “I’m here, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of his words hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and Max watches as you slowly regain some of your composure.

“Do you want to rest?” He asks after a moment, his voice filled with concern. “You’ve had a long day.”

You shake your head, wiping the last of the tears from your face. “No, I’m okay. I think I just need to … distract myself.”

Max nods, understanding. “Okay,” he says, standing up and offering you his hand. “How about we make dinner? Something simple, but better than those pre-prepared meals.”

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “Yeah,” you say, your voice steadier now. “That sounds good.”

***

Cooking with Max is surprisingly easy. He’s not much of a chef, but he’s attentive and eager to help, following your lead as you guide him through the steps of preparing a simple pasta dish. The kitchen fills with the comforting aroma of garlic and herbs, and for a while, you lose yourself in the routine of chopping vegetables and stirring sauces, the earlier tension easing with every moment.

Max watches you closely, noticing the way your movements become more relaxed as you focus on the task at hand. He’s relieved to see you like this — more at ease, more like yourself.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Max comments as he carefully stirs the pasta in the pot, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You shrug, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I used to cook a lot,” you say, your tone a little wistful. “Before everything got … complicated.”

Max doesn’t push for more, sensing that you’re not ready to delve into the past just yet. Instead, he focuses on the present, on the simple pleasure of cooking together, the warmth of the kitchen, the shared sense of purpose.

By the time dinner is ready, the earlier tension has all but disappeared, replaced by a quiet, comforting camaraderie. You and Max sit at the table, eating in companionable silence, the simple meal a balm for your frayed nerves.

After dinner, you help Max clean up, the two of you working together in easy harmony. There’s something oddly soothing about the domesticity of it all — like a glimpse of a life you hadn’t dared to hope for, a life where things could be simple, where you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

When everything is finally cleaned up, Max suggests watching a movie, and you agree, grateful for the chance to keep your mind occupied. You settle onto the couch with him, his cats Jimmy and Sassy immediately curling up beside you, their soft purring a comforting background noise.

Max flips through the options on his streaming service, eventually landing on an action movie. “This okay?” He asks, glancing at you.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Something mindless sounds perfect right now.”

The movie starts, and for the next couple of hours, you lose yourself in the fast-paced action, the explosions and car chases providing a welcome distraction from the turmoil of your own life. Max is a solid, comforting presence beside you, and for a while, you let yourself believe that everything might actually be okay.

When the movie ends, you realize how exhausted you are, the emotional rollercoaster of the day finally catching up with you. Max notices too, and he turns to you with a concerned look.

“You should get some sleep,” he says, his voice gentle. “It’s been a long day.”

You nod, not having the energy to argue. “Yeah. I think I will.”

Max helps you to your feet, and you can feel his eyes on you as you make your way to the guest room. Before you can close the door behind you, he stops you with a soft, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pause, looking back at him. “Goodnight, Max. And … thank you. For everything.”

Max smiles, a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “Just get some rest.”

You nod, giving him a small smile before closing the door behind you.

Once inside the guest room, you sink onto the bed, finally letting out a long breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The room is quiet, the only sound the distant hum of the city outside.

You lie down, pulling the blankets over you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to relax, to let go of the constant worry and fear, if only for a little while.

As you drift off to sleep, the events of the day swirl in your mind — Pascale’s unexpected appearance, Max’s unwavering support, the strange comfort of being here, in this place that’s starting to feel like home.

And somewhere, deep in your heart, a tiny seed of hope begins to take root.

***

The apartment smells of freshly baked cake and anticipation. Max is in the kitchen, moving about with a nervous energy, double-checking everything — again. The cake is already on the counter, perfectly frosted, with a single pink and blue question mark piped on top. The knife lies beside it, waiting for the moment that feels almost too monumental to be happening in the cozy confines of his living room.

You’re sitting on the couch, absentmindedly stroking Jimmy and Sassy, who have taken up their usual positions on either side of you. Your hand rests protectively over your rounded belly, feeling the slight flutters of movement from the baby. Despite the warmth of the room, your fingers are cold, a mix of nerves and excitement pulsing through you.

“Everything’s ready,” Max says, breaking the silence. He’s trying to sound casual, but you can hear the edge in his voice.

You offer him a small smile, trying to steady yourself. “Thanks, Max. For everything.”

He just nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before turning back to the cake. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite read — something beyond just friendship and support. But before you can dwell on it, there’s a knock at the door.

Max visibly relaxes, glad for the distraction. “I’ll get it,” he says, moving to the door and pulling it open.

Pascale is the first to step inside, her smile warm as she takes in the sight of you. “Ma chérie,” she greets, leaning down to kiss both of your cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you reply, feeling a genuine warmth at seeing her. Pascale has been a rock for you since she found out about the pregnancy, offering support and reassurance in a way that makes you feel less alone.

Lorenzo and Arthur follow her in, both of them grinning widely as they approach you. “Hey,” Lorenzo says, giving you a quick hug. “Excited?”

“Nervous,” you admit, glancing over at the cake. “But excited too.”

Arthur chuckles, nudging his brother. “She’s having a girl, I can feel it. I’m gonna win the bet.”

Lorenzo rolls his eyes. “You always say that, but I’ve got a good feeling this time. I’m thinking boy.”

Max laughs, shaking his head as he closes the door behind them. “You two and your bets,” he says. “Let’s just focus on what’s important, yeah?”

Pascale gives him a knowing look, but doesn’t say anything, instead turning to you with a soft smile. “You look lovely, dear,” she says, reaching out to gently touch your arm. “And glowing.”

You feel a flush of warmth at her words, though part of you still feels a bit of that anxiety knotting in your stomach. This is Charles’ family, after all, and the weight of what’s unsaid lingers in the air between you.

Max clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention back to the cake. “Shall we?” He asks, looking at you with an encouraging smile.

You take a deep breath and nod, standing up and moving over to the counter. Max stands close beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. The others gather around, their faces expectant, and you feel the weight of the moment settle over you.

“Here we go,” you say softly, picking up the knife. Your hands tremble slightly, and Max’s hand comes to rest on yours, steadying it. You glance up at him, and he gives you a small nod.

You press the knife into the cake, cutting through the soft layers until you reach the center. The room holds its breath as you pull the slice away, revealing the color inside.

It’s pink.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then Pascale lets out a delighted gasp, her hands flying to her mouth. “A girl!” She exclaims, her eyes shining with joy. “You’re having a little girl!”

Lorenzo and Arthur start laughing, both of them shaking their heads in mock disbelief. “I told you,” Arthur says, clapping his brother on the back. “Looks like you owe me fifty euros.”

But you barely register their words. Your eyes are fixed on the cake, on the pink filling that seems to glow with its own light. You’re having a daughter. The realization hits you like a wave, overwhelming and beautiful, and before you can stop yourself, you’re crying.

Max sees the tears and reacts instinctively. He turns toward you, his hands coming up to cradle your face. “Hey, hey,” he murmurs, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “It’s okay. It’s good news, right?”

You nod, laughing through the tears. “Yeah,” you say, your voice trembling. “It’s just …a lot.”

And then, before either of you can think, Max leans in and presses his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft, hesitant, as if he’s not sure if he should be doing this. But then you kiss him back, and something shifts, deepening the moment. It feels like the world falls away, like it’s just the two of you, and everything else fades into the background.

When Max pulls back, his eyes wide with the realization of what he’s just done, he starts to apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “Don’t,” you whisper, your voice soft but firm. “I liked it.”

Max searches your eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or regret, but all he sees is the truth in your words. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I liked it too,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

The moment between you is tender and full of unspoken feelings, but it’s broken by the sound of Pascale clearing her throat. You both turn to see her watching you, a knowing smile on her face.

“Ah,” she says, her tone gentle but teasing. “I see.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, but Pascale just smiles wider, moving closer to you. “Ma chérie,” she says, taking your hands in hers. “I want you and my granddaughter to be happy. That’s all I care about.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you squeeze her hands in return. “Thank you,” you manage to say, your voice thick with emotion.

Pascale nods, glancing over at Max. “And I can see that Max will stop at nothing to make sure that happens.”

Max looks a little embarrassed, but he meets Pascale’s gaze with a quiet determination. “I promise,” he says, his voice steady. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Lorenzo and Arthur exchange glances, both of them grinning like idiots. “Well, this just got interesting,” Lorenzo quips, earning a light smack on the arm from Pascale.

“Behave,” she admonishes, though there’s a twinkle in her eye. “This is a celebration.”

You can’t help but laugh, the tension that had been building in your chest finally breaking. It’s a strange, wonderful feeling, being surrounded by people who genuinely care, who want what’s best for you and your baby. And as you look around the room — at Max, at Pascale, at Lorenzo and Arthur — you realize that maybe, just maybe, everything is going to be okay.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of laughter and conversation. Pascale insists on taking a thousand pictures of you with the cake, with Max, with everyone, and by the time she’s done, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Lorenzo and Arthur argue good-naturedly over baby names, each of them convinced they have the best suggestion, while Max listens with a bemused smile.

Eventually, the party winds down, and Lorenzo and Arthur say their goodbyes, promising to visit again soon. Pascale lingers a little longer, giving you one last hug before she leaves.

“Remember,” she says as she pulls back, her eyes warm and full of affection. “I’m always here for you, no matter what.”

You nod, feeling a swell of gratitude. “I know. Thank you.”

Pascale smiles and gives Max a quick hug as well before finally making her exit, leaving the two of you alone in the apartment.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then Max turns to you, his expression softening. “How are you feeling?” He asks, his voice gentle.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day settle over you. “Tired,” you admit, but there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. “But … happy.”

Max smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Good,” he says simply.

You look at him, at the man who has done so much for you in such a short amount of time, and you feel something shift inside you — something that scares you a little, but that also feels like hope.

“Max,” you begin, your voice uncertain. “About earlier-”

He cuts you off with a shake of his head. “You don’t have to say anything,” he says. “I just want you to be comfortable, to do what feels right for you.”

You nod, appreciating his understanding. “I just … I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit, your voice small. “But I know I don’t want to push you away.”

Max’s eyes soften, and he takes a step closer to you. “You won’t,” he says, his voice gentle but certain. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? We’ll figure this out together.”

You take comfort in his words, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You’ve been so used to handling everything on your own, and the thought of having someone beside you, someone who genuinely cares, feels like a lifeline you didn’t know you needed.

“Okay,” you whisper, meeting his gaze. The air between you is charged, filled with the weight of unspoken possibilities.

Max reaches out, hesitating for a brief moment before gently cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes against your skin, and you lean into his touch, feeling a warmth spread through you. It’s as if time slows down, the world outside of Max’s apartment fading away until there’s only the two of you, standing close enough to share the same breath.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Max murmurs, his voice low and earnest. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you and the baby are safe, happy, and loved.”

You search his eyes, finding only honesty there, a depth of emotion that takes you by surprise. It’s been so long since you’ve felt this kind of connection, this certainty that you’re not alone.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

Max shakes his head slightly, as if to say there’s no need to thank him, but you know better. You know how much he’s done, how much he’s given, and you feel a rush of gratitude so powerful it almost overwhelms you.

Without thinking, you close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. Max holds you just as tightly, his chin resting on top of your head, and for a moment, everything feels right. The world outside, the uncertainty of the future — it all fades away, leaving just the comfort of his arms around you.

After a few moments, you pull back slightly, looking up at him. There’s something in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press a soft, tentative kiss to his lips.

This time, there’s no hesitation. Max kisses you back with a gentle intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, his hands cradling your face as if you’re something precious, something he’s afraid to break.

When you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Max’s eyes are dark with emotion, and he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world.

“Stay,” he whispers, his voice rough with need. “Stay with me. Let me take care of you.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “Okay,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “I will.”

Max’s expression softens into a smile, one that lights up his entire face. He leans down and presses another kiss to your forehead, a promise in the simple gesture.

“Good,” he says, his voice full of quiet joy. “That’s good.”

You smile back at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that you haven’t felt in a long time. With Max by your side, it feels like maybe, just maybe, everything is going to be okay. As you both stand there, the quiet of the apartment wrapping around you like a cocoon, you realize that this — right here, right now — is the start of something new, something beautiful.

***

It’s early morning, the kind where the light hasn’t yet broken through the curtains, and the apartment is still wrapped in the quiet hush of dawn. You’re half-awake, swimming in that space between sleep and consciousness when you hear it — Max’s voice, low and soothing.

You keep your eyes closed, letting the sound wash over you, not wanting to break the spell. His words are soft, like he’s speaking to the most delicate thing in the world, and you realize he’s talking to your belly.

“Morning, little one,” Max whispers, his voice full of warmth. You feel the slight movement of his hand on your stomach, gentle and comforting. “Did you sleep well? I hope you’re taking it easy on your mama.”

You can’t help the small smile that curves your lips, but you stay still, wanting to hear more. There’s something so tender, so intimate about this moment, and you don’t want to interrupt it.

Max continues, his tone playful now. “You know, I’ve been thinking … you’re going to need a name for me, right? Something special. How about Maxie? Does that sound good to you?” He pauses, as if waiting for an answer. “Or maybe, one day, you’ll call me Papa. I’d really like that.”

Your heart swells, and you feel a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the blanket you’re curled under. Max’s words are like a promise, one that wraps around both you and the baby, binding you together in a way that feels unshakable.

He continues to talk, his voice filled with love and a hint of wonder, as if he still can’t quite believe this is real. “I can’t wait to meet you, you know. To see your little face, your tiny hands … I’m going to be right here, every step of the way. I promise. You and your mama … you’re my world now.”

You feel the gentle pressure of his lips as he presses a kiss to your stomach, and it sends a shiver through you, a mix of emotion that you can’t quite put into words. It’s the kind of feeling that settles deep in your chest, making you want to cry and smile at the same time.

Max shifts slightly, and you feel him lay his head next to your stomach, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll be here to teach you all the important things, like how to kick a football or how to drive really fast — though, your mama might not like that last one,” he chuckles softly, and you have to bite your lip to keep from giggling.

“And I’ll be here for the hard stuff too,” Max continues, his tone growing serious. “I’ll make sure you’re safe, and that you always know how loved you are. Because you’re already so loved, little one. So much.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your eyes sting with unshed tears. You can feel the depth of his commitment, the way he’s already made space in his heart for this child, and it’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

Max falls quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on your belly. You can feel his thumb tracing small circles over your skin, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling. “I know I’m not your real dad,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “But I’m going to love you like you’re mine. And I’m going to love your mama with everything I have, because she deserves that. She deserves everything.”

Your heart clenches at his words, a rush of emotion so strong it nearly takes your breath away. You’ve never felt so cared for, so deeply cherished, and it’s all because of him — this man who has stepped into your life and turned it upside down in the most unexpected, wonderful way.

Max leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I promise, I’ll always be here for you. For both of you. And I hope, one day, you’ll call me Papa. But even if you don’t, I’ll still be the luckiest man in the world, just to be here with you.”

You can’t keep your eyes closed any longer. They flutter open, and you glance down at him, your heart full to bursting. Max looks up, catching your gaze, and there’s a moment of quiet understanding between you — a recognition of the enormity of what he’s just said.

“Did I wake you?” He asks softly, his hand still resting on your belly.

You shake your head, your voice thick with emotion. “No … I was awake.”

Max studies your face, and you can see the concern in his eyes, the way he’s always so attuned to your feelings. “You okay?”

You nod, reaching out to brush a hand through his messy hair. “I’m more than okay.”

His lips curl into a soft smile, one that makes your chest ache with how much you care for him. Max shifts, pressing another kiss to your belly before moving to lay beside you, gathering you into his arms. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, letting it soothe you back into that half-asleep state.

“You’re going to be an amazing dad,” you murmur, your words slurred with sleep.

Max’s arms tighten around you, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “Only because I have you.”

His words wrap around you like a blanket, warm and secure. As you drift back into sleep, the last thing you hear is Max’s voice, soft and full of promise, whispering to your belly again. “I’ll always be here,” he says. “For both of you. Always.”

And with that, you let the sound of his voice carry you back into sleep, your heart filled with a deep, unshakable sense of peace.

***

The contractions start in the early hours of the morning, sharp and unyielding, ripping you out of a restless sleep. At first, you think it’s just another false alarm — your body playing tricks on you like it has for the past week. But this time, something feels different, more urgent. Max is beside you in an instant, his instincts kicking in the moment you clutch at the sheets, your breath hitching in pain.

“Are you okay?” His voice is full of concern, his hand already on your back, trying to soothe you through the discomfort.

You shake your head, biting your lip as another wave crashes over you. “It’s time,” you manage to gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his. “Max, it’s time.”

Max’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t hesitate. He’s up, grabbing the hospital bag that’s been packed for weeks now, guiding you carefully out of bed. The ride to the hospital is a blur of pain and tension, Max’s knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel, driving with a focus that betrays his worry.

When you arrive, everything moves too quickly and too slowly all at once. Nurses and doctors swarm around you, getting you into a gown, checking your vitals, assessing the baby’s position. Max stays by your side through it all, his hand never leaving yours, his voice a steady presence in your ear as he tries to keep you calm.

Hours pass, the pain intensifying until it feels like your body is being split in two. But you’re not scared — not until the doctor’s expression changes, his calm professionalism slipping as he exchanges a glance with the nurse. It’s a look that sends a spike of fear through your heart, and suddenly, the room feels too small, the walls closing in.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, your voice shaking, trying to keep the panic at bay. Max’s hand tightens around yours, his eyes fixed on the doctor, demanding answers without saying a word.

The doctor clears his throat, his tone gentle but serious. “The baby is in distress. Her heart rate is dropping, and we’re concerned about a potential placental abruption.”

“What does that mean?” Max’s voice is hoarse, his face pale.

“It means,” the doctor says carefully, “we may have to make some difficult decisions. We’ll do everything we can, but in situations like this, there’s a chance we may have to prioritize-”

“No,” you interrupt, your voice rising in panic. The room starts to spin, your vision blurring as the reality of what he’s saying crashes over you. “No, no, no … you can’t do that. Save the baby. If it comes down to it, you have to save the baby.”

Max’s grip on your hand tightens to the point of pain, but it’s nothing compared to the anguish in his eyes. “Don’t say that,” he chokes out, his voice cracking. “Don’t you dare say that.”

The doctor nods, his expression somber. “We’re not there yet. We still have time to try and turn things around, but we need to act fast.”

You nod numbly, tears streaming down your face as the pain intensifies, the fear now mingling with the physical agony. Max leans in close, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot and ragged as he struggles to hold it together.

“You’re going to be okay,” he whispers, though his voice shakes with the weight of his own fear. “You hear me? Both of you. You’re both coming out of this. I need you to believe that.”

Your heart aches at the desperation in his voice, and you want to believe him, want to cling to the hope he’s trying so hard to give you. But the terror is overwhelming, and all you can do is nod, too afraid to speak, afraid that if you do, it will make everything too real.

Max pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression fierce despite the tears shining in his own. “Listen to me,” he says, his voice stronger now, a command wrapped in a plea. “You’re strong, okay? The strongest person I know. And she’s strong too. You’re both going to make it through this. You have to. I can’t-” His voice breaks, and he swallows hard, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “I can’t lose you. I can’t lose either of you.”

His words break something inside you, and you sob, clutching at him like he’s your lifeline, because right now, he is. The pain, the fear, the uncertainty — it’s all too much, and you bury your face in his chest, trying to draw strength from him.

The doctors and nurses are moving around you, the room filled with a flurry of activity, but all you can focus on is Max. He’s your anchor, the only thing keeping you tethered to reality as the world spins out of control. His hand never leaves yours, even as the contractions grow stronger, more intense, your screams echoing off the walls.

“I’m here,” Max keeps repeating, his voice a constant in the chaos. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

But then, the situation worsens. You hear the doctor call for an emergency C-section, and your heart plummets. The pain is unbearable, and you can’t breathe, can’t think. They’re wheeling you away, Max’s hand slipping from yours as they take you to the operating room. The last thing you see is his face, pale and stricken, his eyes wide with fear.

“I love you,” he calls out, his voice cracking with the weight of everything he can’t control. “I love you so much. Please — please be okay.”

The operating room is cold, the lights too bright, and all you can think about is the life inside you, the baby you’ve grown to love before she’s even taken her first breath. You can’t lose her. You can’t. But the fear is suffocating, and as they prepare you for surgery, you feel a wave of despair crash over you.

Max’s words echo in your mind, a desperate mantra that you cling to with everything you have. Both of you are making it out of this. You have to.

The anesthesia takes hold, and you feel yourself slipping away, the world fading around you. But before the darkness consumes you, you send up a silent prayer, a plea to whatever force might be listening.

Please. Please let us both make it out of this.

And then, there’s nothing but darkness.

***

Max paces the waiting room, his heart pounding so hard it feels like it might break through his chest. Every second that ticks by is torture, every minute without news a knife twisting in his gut. He’s never been this scared in his life, not even in the most dangerous moments on the track.

His hands are shaking, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He keeps replaying the last look you gave him, the fear in your eyes, the way you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. The thought of losing you, of losing the baby — it’s unbearable.

He can’t breathe, can’t think straight. All he can do is wait, and it’s driving him insane. He feels so helpless, like there’s nothing he can do to fix this, to protect you, and it’s killing him.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the doctor emerges from the operating room. Max rushes to him, his heart in his throat, fear choking him.

“Doctor, please — tell me, are they okay?” Max’s voice is raw, barely above a whisper, his eyes pleading.

The doctor looks tired, his face drawn, but there’s a small, reassuring smile on his lips. “The surgery was successful. It was touch and go for a while, but both your partner and the baby are stable.”

Max’s knees nearly buckle with relief, a sob escaping his throat as he covers his face with his hands. “Thank God … thank you,” he chokes out, his whole body trembling with the release of tension.

“You can see them soon,” the doctor adds gently, placing a hand on Max’s shoulder. “She’s going to need a lot of rest, and we’ll be monitoring them both closely, but they’re out of danger for now.”

Max nods, unable to speak, his emotions too overwhelming to put into words. He’s ushered into a recovery room, where you’re lying on the bed, pale and exhausted, but alive. The sight of you sends a fresh wave of tears to his eyes.

“Hey,” you whisper weakly, your voice barely audible, but the sound of it is the most beautiful thing Max has ever heard.

“Hey,” he breathes, moving to your side and taking your hand in his. His other hand brushes the hair from your face, his touch reverent, as if he’s afraid you might break. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, tears welling up in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to … I just … I had to make sure she was okay.”

Max shakes his head, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, his tears mingling with yours. “Don’t apologize. You did it. You both made it. You’re both okay.”

You squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence. “I couldn’t have done it without you. I heard you, Max … I heard you telling me to hold on.”

Max pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “I meant every word. I’ll always be here, for both of you. I promise.”

A nurse enters. “Would you like to meet your daughter?” She asks.

The nurse wheels in the bassinet, and you can’t take your eyes off the tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket. Max looks at you, his heart in his throat, as the nurse gently lifts your daughter and places her in your arms. She’s so small, her eyes closed, her tiny fists curled up against her chest. The world narrows to this moment, the overwhelming surge of love crashing over you both as you stare down at her.

Max sits beside you, his arm around your shoulders as he looks at his daughter, his breath catching in his throat. “She’s perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “So beautiful.”

You smile through your tears, nodding as you trace a gentle finger over the baby’s soft cheek. “She is. I … I’ve been thinking about what to name her.”

Max looks at you, his heart pounding, waiting for you to speak.

“I want to name her Emilia,” you say softly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “After you. I want her to have a part of you with her always. You’ve done so much for us, Max. You’re a part of her, a part of us. It feels right.”

Max’s breath catches, and for a moment, he can’t speak. His middle name is something he’s never thought much about, but hearing you say it now, giving it to your daughter — it takes on a whole new meaning.

“Emilia,” he repeats softly, as if testing it out. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body as he wraps you both in his embrace. Emilia stirs in your arms, making a soft noise as she opens her eyes for the first time, looking up at you and Max with wide, curious eyes. It feels like time stands still, the three of you cocooned in this perfect moment.

“She’s going to be so loved,” Max whispers, his voice full of awe and determination. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You nod, knowing he means it with every fiber of his being. Max has already proven that he’ll do anything to protect you and Emilia. It’s in the way he looks at you, in the way he holds you both as if you’re the most precious things in the world.

As you sit there together, your new family, you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you won’t be facing them alone. Max is here, by your side, and with him, you have all the strength you need.

“Welcome to the world, Emilia,” you whisper, kissing her tiny forehead. “We love you so much.”

Max kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he closes his eyes, letting himself feel the full weight of the love he has for you both. This is what he’s been waiting for, what he didn’t even realize he needed until now.

“I’ll always be here,” he murmurs, his voice a promise. “For both of you.”

And as you hold your daughter close, you know that those words are true. Max will always be here, and together, you’ll face whatever comes next as a family.

***

Max carefully pulls the car up to the curb outside his Monaco apartment, his hands gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly. He’s driven this route countless times, but today feels different — monumental. He glances over at you in the passenger seat, Emilia cradled in your arms, bundled up in a soft pink blanket. She’s asleep, her tiny mouth forming an ‘O’ as she breathes peacefully.

Max’s heart feels like it might burst from his chest as he watches you both. The love he feels is overwhelming, so much that it almost scares him. He’s not sure how to carry it all, but he knows he wants to try — no, he needs to.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice soft, not wanting to disturb Emilia.

You nod, smiling down at your daughter before looking up at him. “Ready.”

Max steps out of the car and hurries around to your side, opening the door for you and helping you out, his hand warm and steady on your arm. You both move carefully, as if the world might shatter if you’re too rough. Emilia stirs slightly as you adjust her in your arms, but she stays asleep, oblivious to the world outside.

The front door of the apartment clicks open, and you step inside, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you. Max closes the door behind you, and suddenly, the apartment feels different — more complete, more alive. He watches as you walk into the living room, a sense of awe filling him as he realizes that this is your home now, Emilia’s home.

Jimmy and Sassy are lounging on the couch when you enter. They lift their heads lazily, eyes narrowing with curiosity as they spot the new addition to the household. Max watches them closely, his heart racing slightly. He knows how territorial they can be, and the last thing he wants is for them to feel threatened by Emilia.

You lower yourself carefully onto the couch, cradling Emilia in your arms, and Max sits beside you, his arm around your shoulders. “Guys,” you whisper to the cats, your voice gentle, soothing. “Come say hi.”

Jimmy is the first to move, hopping down from the couch and approaching slowly, his eyes wide as he takes in the sight of the tiny human in your arms. He sniffs the air cautiously, his ears twitching, and then, to Max’s surprise, he rubs his head gently against Emilia’s leg, purring softly. Sassy follows suit, jumping up onto the armrest to get a better look, her green eyes curious and bright.

Max lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a smile spreading across his face. “Looks like they approve,” he says, his voice full of warmth.

You laugh softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I guess so. They’re so gentle with her.”

“Yeah,” Max agrees, his eyes never leaving Emilia’s face. “They know she’s important.”

For a while, the three of you just sit there, basking in the quiet joy of the moment. Emilia shifts in your arms, her tiny fingers flexing as she begins to wake up. Her eyes flutter open, and she lets out a small, contented sigh. Jimmy and Sassy watch intently, as if fascinated by this little creature that’s suddenly become the center of their world.

Max reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against Emilia’s cheek. She turns her head slightly, her eyes trying to focus on him, and Max feels a lump form in his throat. “Hi, meisje,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “Welcome home.”

You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and for a moment, everything feels perfect. But then, as if the weight of the world suddenly returns, Max feels a pang of dread deep in his chest. He tries to push it away, but it lingers, gnawing at him.

You notice the change in him immediately, lifting your head to look at him, concern in your eyes. “Max? What’s wrong?”

He hesitates, not wanting to ruin the moment, but he knows he has to tell you. “I just … I’ve been thinking about the races,” he admits quietly. “I’m going to have to leave soon, and … I hate the thought of being away from you and Emilia. Especially now.”

Your expression softens, and you reach out to take his hand, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Max, it’s okay. I know how much racing means to you. We’ll be fine.”

He shakes his head, his eyes searching yours. “I know you will. It’s just … I don’t want to miss anything. I don’t want to miss her first smile, her first laugh, her first steps …”

“You won’t,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. “We’ll make it work. And when she’s old enough, we’ll come with you to as many races as we can.”

Max’s heart swells at the thought, but then another worry creeps in. He hesitates, glancing away for a moment before looking back at you. “But… what about Charles? I don’t want you to feel like you have to be in the same paddock as him. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words, and then you shake your head, a determined look in your eyes. “Max, I’ve thought about it a lot, and I want to be there with you. Emilia and I will cheer you on, and Charles … well, he’s in the past. You’re our future. I want to support you, and I want Emilia to see how amazing her papa is.”

The relief that washes over Max is palpable. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that until now. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice almost trembling. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I’m sure,” you say firmly. “Besides, I want Emilia to grow up surrounded by people who love her. And that includes you, Max. You’re her papa.”

Max’s breath catches at the word, his chest tightening with a mix of love and fear. He’s been called many things in his life — champion, prodigy, competitor — but ‘papa’ is new. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Papa,” he echoes softly, the word feeling both foreign and right on his tongue. “I like the sound of that.”

You smile, your eyes shining with warmth. “Me too.”

The rest of the day passes in a blur of small, beautiful moments. You and Max take turns holding Emilia, watching as she discovers the world around her with wide, curious eyes. Max can’t stop marveling at how tiny she is, how perfect. Every little coo, every small movement feels like a miracle to him.

When evening falls, you feed Emilia while Max busies himself in the kitchen, preparing something simple for dinner. He’s not much of a cook, but he’s determined to take care of you both in any way he can. As you sit at the table together, Emilia cradled in your arms, Max watches you with a sense of contentment he’s never felt before.

But as the night grows darker, that lingering dread creeps back in. Max knows he has to leave for the next race soon, and the thought of being away from you and Emilia feels unbearable. After dinner, he finds himself pacing the living room, his thoughts swirling.

You notice his restlessness and approach him, Emilia sleeping soundly in your arms. “Max,” you say gently, drawing his attention. “Talk to me.”

He stops, running a hand through his hair as he looks at you, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “I just … I don’t know how I’m going to leave you both. I hate it.”

You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “Max, I know it’s hard. But we’ll be okay. And you can call us anytime, video chat, whatever you need. We’ll make it work.”

Max nods, but the worry in his eyes doesn’t fade. “I just don’t want to miss anything,” he repeats, his voice strained. “I want to be here for everything.”

“And you will be,” you promise, your voice firm. “We’ll figure it out together. We’re a team now, remember?”

Max lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Yeah,” he says softly, his voice filled with gratitude. “We are.”

You lean up to kiss him softly on the lips, a kiss that’s full of reassurance and love. When you pull back, Max looks at you with a mixture of awe and affection.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

“For what?” You ask, tilting your head slightly.

“For being here. For being you,” he says simply, his eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love for the man in front of you. “You’ll never have to find out.”

Max pulls you into a gentle embrace, careful not to disturb Emilia as he holds you both close. In that moment, he knows that no matter how many races he has to go to, no matter how far he has to travel, this is where his heart will always be — with you and Emilia.

And as you both stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Max makes a silent promise to himself: to always be there for you, no matter what. Because this — this little family you’ve created together — is the most important thing in the world.

***

The doorbell rings just as Max is finishing up with Emilia’s bottle. He glances at the clock — 10:30 a.m. Whoever it is, they’re too early for lunch, too late for breakfast, and entirely unexpected.

You’re in the kitchen, humming softly while packing away the groceries Max picked up this morning. Max smiles to himself as he looks down at Emilia, her tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb. It feels like everything in his life is finally in place.

But that sense of contentment shatters the moment he opens the door.

Jos stands there, his presence immediately filling the entryway with tension. The older man’s eyes flick to you in the kitchen, then back to Max, his mouth curling into a sneer.

“Max,” Jos says, stepping forward before Max can say a word. His voice is cold, sharp. The man doesn’t even bother with a greeting.

“Dad,” Max replies, swallowing hard as he shuts the door behind him. Jos is already walking into the apartment, his eyes scanning the place like he’s looking for something to criticize.

You turn around, startled by the sound of footsteps you weren’t expecting. The soft smile on your face fades when you see Jos. Max can see the recognition in your eyes, followed by a flash of concern. You know about Jos, the kind of man he is. Max’s jaw tightens.

“What are you doing here?” Max tries to keep his voice steady, but there’s an edge to it, a warning.

Jos ignores him. His gaze is fixed on you now, his expression unreadable but undeniably harsh. “So this is her, huh?” He waves a hand in your direction. “The one Charles tossed aside.”

You freeze, hands trembling as you instinctively clutch the counter behind you. Max’s blood runs cold.

“Don’t,” Max warns, stepping between you and his father. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

Jos scoffs. “Relax, Max. I’m just stating the obvious. She’s nothing more than your rival’s sloppy seconds. And you … you’re playing house with another man’s child.”

The air leaves the room. Max’s vision narrows, and all he can see is Jos — the man who made his childhood a battleground. The man who pushed him so hard he could barely breathe under the weight of his expectations. Now he’s here, trying to break apart the life Max has built for himself.

“That’s enough,” Max snaps, his voice rising in a way that’s unfamiliar, even to him. Emilia starts fussing in his arms, sensing the tension, and it only makes him angrier. “You don’t get to walk in here and insult my family.”

Jos raises an eyebrow. “Family? Don’t kid yourself, Max. This isn’t your family. This is Charles Leclerc’s leftovers. You’re raising another man’s child, and you think that makes you a father?”

Max feels like he’s been punched in the gut, but he doesn’t flinch. He’s not that scared little boy anymore, the one who craved his father’s approval more than anything in the world. He’s a man now — a father — and he won’t let Jos tear him down again.

“You don’t know anything about this,” Max says, his voice shaking with fury. “I love her. I love Emilia. She’s my daughter, and I’m her father, no matter what you think. And if you can’t respect that, then you don’t belong here.”

Jos’s eyes flash with something dark, something that Max recognizes all too well. But before he can say anything, you step forward, your voice trembling but determined. “Please, just go.”

Jos glances at you, then back at Max. For a moment, it looks like he might push further, but then he shakes his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You’ve gone soft, Max. You’re making a mistake, and one day you’ll see it.”

Max tightens his grip on Emilia, who’s starting to cry now, her small voice cutting through the tension. He turns his back on Jos, cradling his daughter close to his chest, and says, “Get out.”

For a moment, there’s only silence. Then, with a huff of disdain, Jos turns on his heel and leaves, the door slamming shut behind him. The sound echoes through the apartment like a gunshot.

You rush to Max’s side, reaching out to touch his arm. “Max, I-”

“Don’t,” Max says, his voice cracking. He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch as he struggles to keep his composure. “Just … don’t.”

He doesn’t mean to snap at you, but the anger, the hurt, it’s all too much. You say nothing, just move closer, wrapping your arms around him and Emilia, holding them both as tightly as you can. Max can feel the tension melting away, replaced by a deep, bone-deep exhaustion.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Max replies, shaking his head. “It’s … it’s just him. He’ll never change.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “He’s wrong, Max. You are her father. You’re already everything she needs.”

Max looks down at Emilia, who’s slowly calming down in his arms. Her tiny hand grips his finger, and the simple, innocent gesture makes something in him break. He swallows hard, blinking back tears.

“I don’t care what he says,” Max whispers, more to himself than to you. “I’m not him. I’m never going to be him.”

You reach up, gently brushing a tear away from his cheek. “You’re not. You’re a good man and you’re already a great father.”

Max can’t find the words to respond, so he just leans down and kisses you, a slow, desperate kiss that says everything he can’t put into words. You kiss him back, your hands gently cradling his face, grounding him in the moment.

When you finally pull away, you smile at him, and it’s like the sun breaking through a stormy sky. “We’re going to be okay,” you say softly. “All three of us.”

Max nods, pressing his forehead against yours. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “We are.”

You both stand there in the quiet of the apartment, holding onto each other and to Emilia, who has finally fallen back asleep. The storm has passed, but Max knows there will be more to come. But as long as he has you and Emilia by his side, he knows he can face anything.

And for the first time in a long time, Max feels like he’s finally home.

***

The room is silent except for the soft hum of the baby monitor, its rhythmic buzz a constant backdrop to the night. The apartment is dark, save for a thin sliver of moonlight seeping in through the curtains, casting a pale glow over the room.

You stir, groggily reaching for the warmth of Max beside you, but find only cold sheets. Instantly, you’re more awake, your heart quickening as you sit up and squint into the darkness. It’s late, or maybe it’s early — time has blurred into an endless loop of feeding, changing, and trying to snatch sleep in between.

Max isn’t in bed, but you can see his silhouette across the room, standing over Emilia’s crib. His back is to you, his posture tense yet somehow fragile, as if he’s holding something inside that’s threatening to spill over. You watch him for a moment, the quiet of the night wrapping around you both like a blanket, before you gently call out his name.

“Max?”

He doesn’t turn immediately, and for a second, you think maybe he didn’t hear you. But then he shifts slightly, his shoulders dropping as if he’s finally exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Sorry,” he says, his voice low and rough with emotion. “Did I wake you?”

You shake your head, though he’s not looking at you. “No. I just noticed you weren’t in bed.”

He glances back at you then, just briefly, his eyes shadowed and unreadable in the dim light. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admits, turning his gaze back to Emilia. “I kept thinking about … everything.”

There’s a heaviness in his tone that makes you push back the covers and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You stand up, crossing the room to where he’s standing. When you reach him, you place a hand on his arm, feeling the tension thrumming through his muscles.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You ask softly, trying to meet his eyes.

For a moment, he’s quiet, staring down at Emilia with a look that’s a mix of awe and fear. Then he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I keep saying she’s mine. I’ve said it so many times, but … I don’t think it really hit me until just now. I’m her dad.”

He finally looks at you, his blue eyes shining with something raw and unguarded. “I’m her dad, and that means … everything. It means I’m the one who’s supposed to protect her, to make sure she’s safe and happy. I’m the one who’s supposed to teach her, to love her, to be there for every moment of her life.”

His voice cracks on the last word, and you feel your heart break for him, for the weight he’s been carrying. You squeeze his arm gently, encouraging him to continue.

“I’ve spent so much of my life trying to be what my dad wanted me to be,” Max continues, his eyes dropping back down to Emilia. “I pushed myself so hard because I thought that’s what I had to do, that I had to prove something to him, to everyone. But this … being her dad, it’s different. It’s not about proving anything. It’s just about being there for her, for you.”

You can hear the fear in his voice, the uncertainty, but also the determination. Max has always been a fighter, always pushing himself to the limit, but this is different. This is about love, about responsibility, about a future that’s no longer just his.

“I promise,” he says, his voice stronger now, more certain. “I promise I’ll always do the best for her, and for you. I’ll make mistakes, I know I will, but I’ll always try to do what’s right. I’ll always be here.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You step closer, sliding your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. You can hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that grounds you in the moment.

“You’re already doing it,” you whisper against his chest. “You’re already an amazing dad, Max. She’s so lucky to have you, and so am I.”

Max wraps his arms around you, pulling you even closer. You feel the warmth of his body against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. It’s a simple, quiet moment, but it’s everything.

“I’m the lucky one,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I didn’t think … I never imagined this. Having a family. But now that I do, I can’t imagine life without it. Without you. Without her.”

You pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes are soft, full of love and something else — something deeper, more profound. It’s the look of a man who’s found something he didn’t even know he was searching for.

“I love you,” you say, the words slipping out before you can even think about them. But they’re true, and you realize with a start that you’ve been feeling them for a while now.

Max’s breath catches, and for a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s trying to memorize your face, your words, everything about this moment. Then he smiles — a real, genuine smile that lights up his entire face.

“I love you too,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “So much.”

You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. It’s not the first kiss you’ve shared, but it feels like the most important. It’s a promise, a commitment, a beginning.

When you finally pull away, Max rests his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close. “Thank you,” he whispers. “For everything. For trusting me, for being here, for giving me this family.”

You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He kisses you again, softer this time, a lingering brush of lips that sends warmth spiraling through you. Then he turns his attention back to Emilia, who’s still sound asleep in her crib, blissfully unaware of the world around her.

“She’s so perfect,” Max murmurs, his voice full of wonder. “I still can’t believe she’s ours.”

“She is,” you agree, leaning against him as you both watch your daughter sleep. “She’s everything.”

Max nods, his eyes never leaving Emilia. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure she has the best life possible. I don’t care what it takes. She’s my little girl.”

There’s a fierceness in his voice now, a protective instinct that you know will only grow stronger with time. It’s the kind of love that can’t be measured, the kind that changes everything.

“And you,” Max adds, looking down at you with a softness that makes your heart swell. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you’re happy too. That you never have to worry about anything.”

“I know you will,” you say, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “But you don’t have to do it all on your own, Max. We’re in this together, okay? We’re a team.”

He nods, his expression serious. “Yeah. We are.”

You stand there in the quiet of the night, wrapped up in each other and in the future you’re building together. It’s a future that’s still uncertain, full of challenges and unknowns, but it’s yours. It’s yours, and it’s beautiful.

After a while, Max guides you back to bed, and you both climb under the covers, your bodies fitting together perfectly. He holds you close, his arms wrapped around you as you settle against his chest. You can hear the steady beat of his heart, feel the warmth of his skin against yours, and it lulls you into a peaceful sleep.

As you drift off, you hear Max’s voice one last time, a soft whisper in the darkness. “I’m never letting go of this. Of you. Of her. I promise.”

And with that, you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep, feeling more loved and more secure than you ever have before.

***

Max is darting around the private jet, a man on a mission. He’s checking every corner, every surface, making sure it’s all baby-proofed, while you sit on the plush leather seat, watching him with a mix of amusement and affection. Emilia, cradled in your arms, is blissfully unaware of her father’s nerves as she gurgles happily, her tiny hands waving in the air.

“Max, it’s fine,” you call out, but he’s too busy testing the security of a cabinet door to hear you.

“What if the turbulence knocks something over?” He mutters, more to himself than to you, as he gives the cabinet another pull to ensure it’s locked tight. He moves on to the safety straps on the seats, tugging at them to make sure they’re secure.

You can’t help but smile at how seriously he’s taking this. Max Verstappen reduced to a bundle of nerves over the safety of a half-year-old baby on a private jet. It’s endearing, seeing him so out of his element, so completely focused on making sure everything is perfect for Emilia.

“Max, she’s going to be fine,” you say gently, but with a hint of laughter in your voice.

Max finally turns to you, his expression a mix of determination and mild panic. “I know, I just-” he pauses, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want to take any chances. What if something happens? What if-”

“Max,” you cut him off, “everything’s going to be okay. You’ve checked everything three times already.”

He lets out a breath, his shoulders finally relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re right. I just ... I want her to be safe.”

“She will be. And besides,” you add with a teasing smile, “you’ve already won the overprotective dad award.”

That gets a small smile out of him, and he walks over to where you’re sitting, leaning down to press a kiss to Emilia’s forehead. “You’re right,” he says again, though this time it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself.

You reach up to touch his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble there. “You’re an amazing dad, Max.”

He covers your hand with his, his blue eyes softening as he looks at you. “I just ... I never thought I’d be this worried, you know? Driving at 300 kilometers an hour doesn’t scare me, but this ...”

“Because this is different,” you finish for him, understanding completely. “She’s your whole world now.”

“You both are,” he corrects, and you can see the emotion in his eyes, the depth of his feelings for both you and Emilia.

The flight attendant comes by to offer refreshments, and Max asks for a bottle of water before turning his attention back to you and Emilia. He takes a seat beside you, carefully cradling the baby as you hand her over. The moment Emilia is in his arms, the tension in his shoulders eases, and he looks down at her with the kind of adoration that makes your heart swell.

“Look at her,” he murmurs, as if he still can’t believe this little person is real, is his.

“She’s beautiful,” you agree softly.

Max leans back in his seat, holding Emilia close. She’s starting to doze off, her tiny mouth making little sucking motions even in her sleep. “I can’t wait for her to see her first race,” he says quietly, his voice full of anticipation and pride.

You smile, watching the way he looks at Emilia, as if she’s the most precious thing in the world. And to him, she is.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He chuckles softly. “I don’t know. But I hope so. Maybe she’ll be my little lucky charm.”

“She already is,” you say, closing your eyes for a moment, just soaking in the warmth of the moment.

The plane starts to taxi down the runway, and Max holds Emilia a little tighter, his other hand reaching out to take yours. The takeoff is smooth, but Max’s grip on your hand doesn’t loosen until you’re well into the air.

“She didn’t even stir,” you note, nodding towards Emilia, who’s still peacefully asleep in Max’s arms.

“She’s tougher than we give her credit for,” Max replies, smiling down at his daughter.

As the flight progresses, Max eventually relaxes enough to stop checking every detail of the cabin. He spends most of the time just watching Emilia sleep, occasionally glancing out the window at the clouds passing by. You can see the wheels turning in his head, and you know he’s already imagining what it will be like to have her at the track, to share that part of his life with her.

After a while, you start to feel the effects of the early morning and the flight. The gentle hum of the plane and the steady warmth of Max beside you lull you into a state of drowsiness. You lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder, your hand still holding his.

Max looks down at you, his heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. This is his family, his girls, and he would do anything to keep you both safe, to make sure you’re happy. He kisses the top of your head, the gesture so natural, so filled with love, that it almost surprises him how right it feels.

As the plane flies steadily towards its destination, you drift off to sleep, the last thing you hear being Max whispering softly to Emilia, telling her about the first time he’ll take her to the paddock, how he’ll introduce her to everyone, how he’ll teach her everything he knows. His voice is filled with so much love and promise that it makes your heart ache in the best way possible.

And then, you’re asleep, resting peacefully against Max’s shoulder, while Emilia snoozes in his arms. Max stays like that for the rest of the flight, holding both of you close, his heart full and content.

***

The paddock buzzes with the usual pre-race excitement, but today, there's an extra layer of curiosity. People are craning their necks, whispering to each other, their eyes widening as Max Verstappen strolls through, an unusual sight to behold. Emilia is strapped to his chest in a baby carrier, her tiny hands grabbing at the fabric of Max’s shirt, while you walk beside him, pushing a stroller that’s more a mobile storage unit for all the baby essentials.

It’s your first time back at a race since everything changed, and the significance of the moment isn’t lost on you. Every step feels heavy with the weight of anticipation, not just for the race itself, but for the reactions you both know are coming. Max, usually so composed in these environments, seems a little tense. His hand rests protectively over Emilia, his thumb gently stroking her back as he navigates through the crowd.

As you walk together, you catch the eyes of team members, fans, and media alike, all of them stunned by the sight of Max — stoic, single-minded Max — suddenly a father. The whispers grow louder, cameras discreetly capturing the moment, and you feel the eyes of the entire paddock on you. But Max, despite the tension in his shoulders, keeps his focus on you and Emilia, blocking out the stares as best he can.

You try to smile, to project confidence, but you can’t shake the feeling of being exposed, vulnerable. It’s not just that this is your first time back in the paddock — it’s that this is the first time the world is seeing you, Max, and Emilia together. You brace yourself for the reactions, knowing they’ll come.

Max senses your unease and squeezes your hand, a silent reassurance that he’s with you every step of the way. “Ignore them,” he says quietly, his voice firm. “This is about us, not them.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as you push the stroller forward. Emilia, blissfully unaware of the attention, coos happily against Max’s chest, her tiny head resting against him. It’s that sound, that innocence, that gives you the strength to keep going.

As you walk further into the paddock, the sea of familiar faces starts to part for you, some people smiling warmly, others too shocked to do much more than gape. Max acknowledges a few of the team members with a nod, his usual stern expression softened by the presence of his daughter.

Then, as you turn a corner near the Red Bull garage, you see him. Charles, dressed in his Ferrari red, stands talking to a few engineers. His back is to you, and for a moment, you think you might pass by unnoticed. But then, as if sensing your presence, Charles turns.

The world seems to slow as his eyes lock onto Emilia. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief in a matter of seconds. His gaze flickers between you, Max, and the baby, and you can see the moment it all clicks for him. The green eyes, so like his own, staring back at him from the face of the baby strapped to Max’s chest.

“Max,” Charles says, his voice low, tight. His face flushes with a mix of emotions — shock, anger, betrayal. “What the hell is this?”

Max’s jaw tightens, but he stays calm. “Let’s not do this here.”

But Charles doesn’t seem to hear him. He takes a step closer, his eyes locked on Emilia, and you instinctively move closer to Max, as if you can shield your daughter from whatever’s about to happen.

“You had a baby?” Charles spits out, his voice rising with each word. “My baby?” He points at you, disbelief and fury written all over his face. “You stole my girlfriend and now you’re raising my child?”

The words hit like a slap, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You knew this confrontation was coming, but nothing could have prepared you for the intensity of it, for the venom in Charles’ voice.

Max steps forward, placing himself between you and Charles. “Watch what you’re saying,” he warns, his voice dangerously low. “Emilia is not your daughter. You gave up that right when you left her mother.”

Charles scoffs, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Max. “You think you can just replace me? That she’ll ever be yours?”

“She already is,” Max replies, his voice steady, unyielding. “She’s mine because I’m here for her, every day. Because I love her. And because you walked away.”

Charles looks like he’s about to explode. His fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, you think he might actually take a swing at Max. But instead, he turns his anger on you.

“And you,” he snaps, his voice dripping with contempt. “How could you do this? How could you let him take my place?”

The accusation stings, but before you can respond, Emilia starts to cry, the tension and raised voices too much for her to handle. The sound cuts through the air like a knife, and suddenly, all eyes are on the three of you, the scene unfolding like a car crash that no one can look away from.

Charles looks stricken at the sound of Emilia’s cries, but his anger doesn’t dissipate. If anything, it seems to fuel him further. “You think you can just replace me? That she won’t know who her real father is?”

Max’s composure finally breaks. He steps forward, his face inches from Charles, his voice deadly calm. “You lost the right to call yourself her father when you walked away from her mother without a second thought. Don’t you dare try to claim her now.”

“Max, please,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you reach out to him. But before you can pull him back, Charles lashes out.

“You think this is over? You think I’ll just let you play happy family with my daughter?”

“Stop it, Charles,” you plead, but your words fall on deaf ears.

Charles opens his mouth to respond, but Emilia’s cries grow louder, her tiny fists clenching in distress. Max’s expression hardens as he looks at Charles, then at his daughter, who’s clearly terrified by the escalating confrontation.

“That’s enough,” Max says, his voice firm. “You’re scaring her.”

But Charles doesn’t back down. He takes another step forward, his voice rising. “She’s mine, Max. And I’ll make sure she knows it.”

Emilia’s wails reach a fever pitch, and Max’s patience snaps. He takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he turns to you. “Take her,” he says softly, carefully unstrapping Emilia from the carrier and handing her to you. You can feel his hands shaking slightly as he passes her over, his control fraying at the edges.

You cradle Emilia close, trying to soothe her as you watch the standoff between Max and Charles with mounting dread.

Max squares his shoulders, turning back to Charles with a look that could freeze over hell. “If you ever come near her again,” he says, his voice cold as ice, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Charles’s eyes flash with anger, but he’s out of words, out of retorts. He glares at Max, then at you, before turning on his heel and storming away, his footsteps echoing down the paddock.

For a moment, everything is silent except for Emilia’s soft cries. The crowd that had gathered disperses, but not without a few lingering looks of shock and curiosity. You can feel the weight of their stares, the buzz of gossip that’s sure to follow, but all that matters is calming Emilia and holding it together for her.

Max stands there, his chest heaving, the adrenaline from the confrontation still coursing through his veins. He watches as Charles disappears from sight, then turns back to you, his expression softening as he sees the tears in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

You shake your head, unable to find the words to respond. Instead, you focus on Emilia, her cries quieting as she nuzzles against your chest, seeking comfort.

Max steps closer, his hand reaching out to touch your arm, grounding both of you. “Are you okay?” He asks gently, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’m okay,” you manage to say, though your voice is shaky. “It’s just ... it’s a lot.”

“I know,” Max says, his voice filled with regret. “I wish I could make it all go away.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the tension start to ease as Max’s presence grounds you. “We’ll get through this,” you say softly, more for yourself than anyone else.

Max wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, his other hand resting on Emilia’s back. “We will,” he promises, his voice steady and sure. “We’re a family, and nothing’s going to change that.”

As you stand there, the chaos of the paddock fading into the background, you realize that no matter what happens, no matter what anyone says, you’re not alone in this. You have Max, and together, you’ll face whatever comes your way.

***

Max paces the length of his driver’s room, phone pressed to his ear, his voice low but urgent. Outside, the hum of the paddock continues, but inside, the tension is palpable. He runs a hand through his hair, the stress of the day catching up with him. His mind is a storm of thoughts, all centered on you and Emilia.

You stand at the doorway, hesitating as you hear his voice, too focused on the conversation to notice your presence. You can’t make out every word, but the ones you do catch make your heart pound in your chest.

“No, I don’t care what it takes,” Max says, his voice firm. “I want to make sure he has no rights. None. He can’t just walk back into her life and take her away.”

Your breath hitches, and you step closer, just out of his line of sight. Max pauses, listening to whoever’s on the other end of the call, his jaw clenched tight. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in, the gravity of what he’s discussing weighing heavily on your heart.

“Yes,” he says after a moment. “I’ve thought about that. Adoption. I want it to be official, as soon as possible. I want to be her dad in every way that matters.”

You feel like the air’s been knocked out of you. Your hand flies to your mouth, trying to contain the emotion that surges through you. You’ve always known that Max loves Emilia as his own, but hearing him talk about adoption, about making it official, is overwhelming. It’s everything you didn’t know you needed to hear.

Max’s back is to you, his shoulders tense, his free hand on his hip. “No, I don’t care about the PR fallout. She’s my daughter, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.”

You can’t stay quiet any longer. “Max …”

He turns so quickly that he nearly drops his phone. His blue eyes widen in surprise, then soften when he sees you. He quickly wraps up the call, telling his lawyer he’ll be in touch soon, and hangs up, his attention solely on you now.

“How much did you hear?” He asks, a touch of worry in his voice as he approaches you.

“Enough,” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re serious about this? About adopting her?”

Max stops in front of you, his hands gently taking yours. “Of course, I am,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “She’s mine, in every way that matters. I don’t want there to be any question about that. I want to make it official.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you blink rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. “Max … I don’t even know what to say. You’re amazing, you know that?”

He smiles, but there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that tugs at your heart. “I just want to do what’s right for you and Emilia. You both mean everything to me.”

Your heart swells with so much love that it feels like it might burst. “I love you,” you whisper, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

Max’s eyes light up, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you close. “I love you too,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “So much.”

You bury your face in his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you as you let the tears fall, tears of happiness, relief, and love. Max’s hand runs soothingly up and down your back, his touch reassuring, solid, and everything you need.

“I didn’t know if you’d want that,” you admit after a moment, your voice muffled against his shirt. “The adoption, I mean. I didn’t want to pressure you into anything.”

Max pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face. “This isn’t about pressure,” he says earnestly. “This is about what I want. I want to be her dad, officially. I want us to be a family.”

His words hit you like a wave, and you can’t hold back the smile that breaks across your face. “We already are, Max. But … making it official … it would mean the world to me.”

He kisses you then, softly, sweetly, as if sealing the promise with his lips. When he pulls away, there’s a determination in his eyes that makes your heart race.

“We’ll get this sorted,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “Charles won’t be able to touch her. I’ll make sure of it.”

You nod, trusting him completely, knowing that whatever happens, Max will be there, by your side, protecting you and Emilia. He’s already proven that in so many ways.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning into his embrace. “For everything.”

Max presses another kiss to your forehead, lingering there as if he never wants to let go. “I’ll always be here for you,” he promises, his voice a gentle vow. “For both of you.”

You stay like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the world outside the room forgotten. It’s just you, Max, and the love that’s grown between you, a love that’s only getting stronger with each passing day.

Eventually, Max steps back, his hand slipping into yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again. “Come on,” he says softly, a small smile playing on his lips. “Let’s go check on Emilia.”

You smile back, feeling lighter than you have in days. “Yeah,” you agree, squeezing his hand. “Let’s.”

***

The FIA Prize Giving Ceremony is a glittering affair, with the most celebrated drivers in the world gathered under one roof, all eager to see who will take home the evening’s highest honors. The room is abuzz with energy, cameras flashing, and the air thick with anticipation. It’s a night of recognition, where the best of the best are acknowledged for their achievements on the track. But for you and Max, tonight is about something much more personal.

You sit beside Max at one of the front tables, your hands clasped together under the tablecloth. Max looks sharp in his tailored suit, but his usual air of calm confidence is tinged with a nervous excitement that he can’t quite hide. His eyes are fixed on the stage, where the host is just beginning to announce the next category: Rookie of the Year.

“... and the Rookie of the Year award goes to ... Emilia Verstappen!”

The applause is instantaneous, loud and enthusiastic, as the cameras pan across the audience. You squeeze Max’s hand, and he turns to you, his eyes shining with pride. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to — you can see everything he’s feeling written all over his face.

You both watch as Emilia makes her way to the stage, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders, the bright lights catching the sparkles in her gown. She moves with the grace and confidence of someone who’s been in the spotlight her entire life, but there’s still that youthful energy in her step, the excitement of someone just beginning to make her mark on the world.

When Emilia reaches the podium, she takes the award in her hands, the applause still roaring around her. She takes a moment to look out at the audience, her eyes searching until they find yours and Max’s. She smiles — a smile that’s a little bit of yours, a little bit of her biological father’s, and completely her own. The room gradually quiets down, and when she speaks, her voice is clear and steady, carrying through the hall.

“Wow, this is ... incredible. Thank you so much to the FIA, to my team, and to everyone who’s supported me this year. It’s been a wild ride, and I’m so grateful for every moment.”

She pauses, glancing down at the award in her hands, turning it over thoughtfully. “But there are two people I need to thank more than anyone else, because without them, I wouldn’t be standing here tonight.”

You feel Max’s grip on your hand tighten just slightly, as if bracing himself for what’s coming. He’s always been proud of Emilia, but tonight, the emotion is running deeper than ever.

“My parents,” Emilia continues, her voice growing softer, more heartfelt. “Mama, Papa ... I owe everything to you.”

The crowd is silent now, all eyes on the young woman at the podium, the daughter of one of the greatest drivers in Formula 1 history, but tonight, it’s clear that this is Emilia’s moment.

“Mama,” Emilia says, her gaze finding you again, “you’ve been my rock, my biggest supporter, and the person who’s always believed in me, even when I doubted myself. You taught me what it means to be strong, to never give up, and to follow my heart. I wouldn’t be who I am today without you.”

A lump forms in your throat, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. You’ve watched Emilia grow from a baby into the remarkable young woman she is today, and hearing her speak these words is almost too much to bear. You squeeze Max’s hand again, finding comfort in his presence beside you.

“And Papa ...” Emilia’s voice catches slightly, and she takes a moment to steady herself. “I know I might not look like you, but no one can deny that I drive like you. You’ve taught me everything I know about racing, but more importantly, you’ve shown me what it means to be passionate, dedicated, and fearless. I’ve always wanted to make you proud, and I hope I’ve done that.”

Max can’t hold back the tears any longer. He blinks rapidly, trying to keep his emotions in check, but it’s no use. His eyes are wet, his chest tight with pride and love for his daughter. He nods, his lips pressed together in a tight line, as if trying to keep himself from breaking down completely.

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. In this moment, it’s just the three of you — everything else fades away.

Emilia takes a deep breath, her gaze sweeping across the audience one last time. “I’m so lucky to have parents like you. Thank you for everything. This award is as much yours as it is mine.”

The applause that follows is deafening, the crowd rising to their feet in a standing ovation. Emilia smiles, a little shy now that the speech is over, and nods her thanks before stepping back from the podium.

As the applause continues, Max turns to you, his eyes still glistening. “She’s incredible, isn’t she?”

You nod, too emotional to speak, your heart full to bursting with love for both of them. Max leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, a silent acknowledgment of everything you’ve been through together to reach this moment.

The ceremony continues, but you’re not really paying attention anymore. You’re too lost in your thoughts, in the warmth of Max’s arm around you, in the overwhelming pride you feel for your daughter.

When Emilia returns to the table, the award in her hands, Max immediately pulls her into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “So, so proud.”

Emilia hugs him back just as tightly, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Thanks, Papa,” she whispers, her voice full of love. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

They hold each other for a long moment, and you can’t help but smile through your own tears. This is your family — your beautiful, wonderful, extraordinary family.

As the evening draws to a close and the final awards are handed out, you find yourself reflecting on the journey that brought you all here. It wasn’t always easy, and there were times when you weren’t sure how things would turn out. But standing here now, with Max and Emilia by your side, you know that every challenge, every hardship, was worth it.

As you all make your way out of the ceremony and into the cool night air, Emilia holds her award close, her eyes still shining with happiness. Max keeps his arm around you, his other hand resting on Emilia’s shoulder, as if he can’t bear to let either of you out of his reach.

When you reach the car, Max opens the door for you and Emilia, and you both slide inside. As Max takes his seat behind the wheel, he glances over at you, his expression soft and full of love.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, his voice gentle.

You nod, smiling at him, your heart full. “Yeah,” you reply, reaching over to take his hand. “Let’s go home.”

As Max drives through the quiet streets, Emilia leans her head against your shoulder, her award still clutched in her hands. You glance at her, at the peaceful expression on her face, and feel a surge of contentment wash over you.

This is what it’s all about, you realize. This is the life you’ve built together, the family you’ve created. And as you sit there, surrounded by the people you love most in the world, you know that no matter what the future holds, you’ll face it together — just as you always have.

[ceilidho]

Buttermilk

It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au

Part 1 | masterlist

-

“I’m not looking for a babysitter that can only come by every now and then,” he says sternly and pauses for emphasis, brows furrowing to convey the seriousness of the situation. “I’ve got a busy schedule and his mom isn’t in the picture. I need a real commitment.”

You sit across from him wringing your hands under the kitchen table, wondering again what it is you’re doing here. Babysitting has never been your schtick; you’re somewhere in between too old to do it as a casual gig for extra cash and too young and inexperienced to be considered for a full-time position. 

Yet, it seems like that’s what he’s looking for, based on the information he’s told you and your general impression from having been in his house for less than twenty minutes. The house is a mess—toys strewn across the baby’s bedroom and the living room, dishes crusted with day old food sitting in the sink, the bookshelf in his study covered in a fine layer of dust that tells you that this man spends so little time in his own house that it’s become something of a requiem to single fatherhood. 

“So, a nanny?” you ask.

He hems and haws over that for a bit. “Bit too fancy for my tastes, but that’s more like it. It won’t just be watching the baby—I need someone who can help out around the house as well. ‘Used to run a tight ship before him, but cleaning’s not been my highest priority these days. Sure you’ve picked up on that.” He says the last part wryly, lips curling up into a crooked grin under his mustache. 

“Well…” You trail off while glancing at the mess in the living room out of the corner of your eye, toys and blocks scattered over the playmat. Your own smile is sheepish. 

“I work odd hours, so I’ll be gone a lot; you’ll probably have a few late nights here, but I pay well. Think that’s something you can handle?”

A polite refusal sits on the tip of your tongue until you swallow it back, suddenly conscious again of the dwindling funds in your bank account. It’s not that you don’t think you could handle the job. You’ve babysat before (only preteens, you correct yourself internally, but surely there are some transferable skills there). And, eclipsing all of your arguments in favour of walking out the door right now, is the very salient and pressing need for an actual income. 

“You’re military, you said?” you croak out instead.

He nods, hums. “Bit of a glorified desk job these days. They don’t put the old timers out in the field. Still, keeps me busy.”

You frown at that. “You’re not that old.”

That gets him to cock an eyebrow. “Love, I’m over twice your age, easy. I’m plenty old for a first time father on top of that; should’ve already been an old hand at this, but I’ve been married to the job for too long.”

You don’t ask if the baby was an accident or how it came to be that he chose to raise the baby on his own rather than try to work something out with the mother or give him up altogether. It seems uncouth. Rude. It’s none of your business and, more to the point, hardly relevant to the job. It’s just your own insatiable need to pry and know every little detail raising its head to sniff the air. 

“Well, I think—” You chew on your words and then backtrack. “—I can handle the job. I live nearby, so I can be here whenever you need me. If you need references, I can—”

“No need,” he cuts you off, waving a hand in front of him. “I’m a good judge of character. If you wanna help put the baby to bed, we can talk salary and I’ll go over my schedule this week with you.”

The chair scrapes against the tile floor when he stands up, pushing it out from under him. Standing, he towers over you, a big, fit man despite his protests to the contrary. Hardly out of his prime. You’d put him at forty-five at the latest, and still a work horse of a man at that; broad like a draft horse, like he flips tires and runs marathons for fun. When you push out your chair and stand as well, you’re still forced to look up at him. 

“Sure can, Mister…—?” You realize with a slight start that you only remember his first name, though it hardly feels appropriate to call him by that given the fact that he’s about to become your boss. Already is your boss. 

“Price. But John works just fine,” he corrects, his smile warm, almost paternalistic. 

You ignore the flash of heat up your spine and the way your belly constricts when he reaches across the table to shake your hand. His big, calloused palm dwarfs yours, fingers easily overlapping. You might as well be shaking a mitt. 

“Well, thanks for the job, John,” you say with a smile of your own, ignoring the way yours strains at the end, anxiety already gnawing a hole through the lining of your stomach that your stomach acid will now most certainly leak through. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t, sweetheart.”

His words seem like a bellwether for something that you can’t yet articulate or even anticipate. Regardless, they make you swallow reflexively when you start salivating out of nowhere. You should probably quit on the spot actually, just out of principle alone, but again you remember the gut-churning sensation of checking your bank balance in the middle of the grocery store the other day before putting half of the contents of your cart back onto the shelf beside you. 

You follow him into the playroom instead, where a fuzzy headed infant gasps up at his daddy, blinking big lovestruck eyes up at him. Your own heart feels like a melted caramel in your chest when John picks his son up, eyes crinkling with affection. The baby is so tiny in his arms.

Any thought of being a good person evaporates from your mind. As if you ever had a chance. 

You don’t know how he found you. Through a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad’s coworker, maybe. Word of mouth. Watercooler conversation and a heaping cup of gossip.

“Did you hear the Captain’s looking for a babysitter?”

“For what? To bang?”

“No, dipshit. He knocked some broad up and she left him with the baby.”

“No kidding. The Captain?”

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ say that?”

“Price, you mean? Captain Price?”

“Are you fuckin’ deaf? Yeah—Price.”

“Christ. Godspeed to him. A baby. Goddamn.”

“Give it a rest, it happens all the time. That’s why you always wrap it up. Anyway, you know of anyone that’d be up for it?”

And then somehow, your name gets mentioned. Much to your relief. Job opportunities don’t knock on your door all that often, and when John finally gets around to telling you your hourly rate, you almost burst into hysterical giggles in front of him. It’s more than you expected. More than you deserve, if you’re being honest. You’re retroactively grateful that he didn’t ask you to name your rate because you wouldn’t have dared propose something anywhere close to what he offers.

It’s a straightforward gig. John doesn’t work the typical nine-to-five, so you show up at the times he made you write down on that first day in his living room after your interview and you leave whenever he comes home. The first week is fairly true to the schedule he laid out for you. He’s only late by around half an hour one evening, but that was another condition that he made you well aware of prior to giving you the job. 

You know better than to put up a fuss. You’re already learning on the job as it is; with your anxiety at a ten at all times, you appreciate the extra half hour to keep googling baby-specific information. What to do during tummy time. The benefits of baby massage. How to change a diaper. You’re learning all sorts of things these days.

To your credit, he could’ve done worse. The day after John hires you, you sign up for an intensive babysitting course over the weekend and read the online manual front to back. Your CPR certificate is still valid, but you book a refresher course as well just to be on the safe side. It’s a bit unbearable to watch the funds drain out of your account before you’ve even had a chance to earn your first paycheck, but it’s worth it for the burgeoning confidence that you bring on your first day.

Babies are fun to be around, you realize, much to your own delight. Babysitting—or rather, nannying, but John still introduces you to the neighbours as his babysitter, plus nannying requires a host of additional accreditations that you simply just do not have—might not have been a job that you ever expected yourself to like, but you find yourself kind of morose at the end of each day when you have to say goodbye to baby, and even going so far as to turn in early when you get home so you’ll be ready bright and early the next morning.

Babies also smell better than anything you’ve ever smelt in your life. You could huff the top of this little guy’s head morning, noon, and night. Milky and clean; it barely takes a few days to become addicted to the smell of his little head. When he’s cradled in your arms, you can’t help but press your nose to the top of his head and take a deep inhale, eyes fluttering shut. It’s some good shit. 

You keep a journal filled with notes to relay to John when he comes home at the end of the night and keep your phone close to you during babytime to film any important moments that John might’ve otherwise missed. 

“He started babbling today,” you tell John the second he walks through the door, the video already pulled up on your phone. You haven’t felt this excited in ages. “Look.” 

He’s still in his fatigues and everything, but he humours you and takes the baby when you pass him over, cooing and tickling his belly until the baby squeals and babbles again for him. 

“See?” you gush, mooning over him. You don’t have the presence of mind to be self-conscious in the moment. 

“Yeah,” John remarks, lifting his son up to blow a raspberry into his belly and grinning at his ensuing peals of laughter. “Ain’t that something.”

If the smile in his voice has anything to do with you, you don’t pick up on it.

On top of everything, John turns out to be a really good boss. Despite his gruff, intimidating exterior, he’s remarkably kind and patient with you. He doesn’t nag you for missing a spot when cleaning the bathroom. He doesn’t scold you the day your car breaks down and you’re forced to take the nearest bus to his place, tacking on an extra twenty minutes to your commute, even though that means that he’s invariably late for work. When you accidentally use scouring powder on the inside of his Le Creuset Dutch oven and scratch off the enamel, he gently talks you out of a sobbing fit, seemingly unbothered by the state of his scratched up crockery.

He shrugs when you bring it up. “It’s got a lifetime warranty anyway. I’ll bring it into the shop over the weekend. No use getting upset about it.”

Unflappable. That’s the word for it. It’s like as long as he’s able to come home to the baby and you in one piece, nothing else matters, and that sense of calm permeates the whole house; for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around someone. 

Your only qualm—and it’s hardly even a qualm, to be honest, more of just an observation—is that John is more of a physical person than you are. 

When he wants to move you, he does—two big hands clamped around your waist and only a fraction of his strength to move you away from the stove so he can take over cooking while you check on the baby, your mouth hanging open, aghast. Fuming at his nerve. The gall of him to manhandle you. 

You don’t hold it against him though. You haven’t spent much time around groups of men, but you’ve seen military movies before and it seems like the status quo for men to grab and push each other around. If anything, he’s gentle with you. 

It’s just that—and again, John’s the first adult man you’ve spent any one-on-one time with, what with it just being the two of you and the baby in his house, so your frame of reference is microscopic—you’re not completely sure whether it’s appropriate for your boss to be so touchy. 

You don’t mean to insinuate that he’s being inappropriate. It’s just that—and again you have to catch yourself before you go making assertions about people because John is honestly such a nice man and he’s done nothing but treat you fairly and made you feel safe and welcome, but…—sometimes he insists on you staying over for dinner after he comes home from work and doesn’t take no for an answer.

You’re never in any rush to leave. There’s not exactly anything waiting for you in your dingy little apartment. So when he asks you to stay, you have no good reason to refuse. It’s nice to get a free meal as well. With the way John gives you unfettered access to the fridge and pantry, you hardly need to buy groceries at all these days. You feel a little guilty about that, but you know what it’s like to go hungry.

Maybe that’s why you stay for supper the first time he asks a couple weeks into you working for him. You’re subconsciously mortified that you’ll eat his food when he’s not gone but not when he offers it to you.

At least dinner feels like something you’ve been given rather than just taking, taking, taking. 

Not to mention you’ve developed something of a rapport. There’s always something to talk about with John: the baby, his work, a show you watched on TV after putting the baby down for a nap, the new big Tesco four blocks from your place, his late teens before joining the military (“back when you weren’t even a thought in your mum’s head,” he jokes, cutting into his steak and something in your brain pops and fritzes out like the static between radio stations). 

The first few suppers are sporadic and never long enough to make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In all honesty, they’re the few bright spots in an otherwise dull life. Outside of your job and the infrequent dinners, you’re estranged from your family and you’ve only got a few close friends in town that you see maybe once or twice a month. Nothing to write home about. Some Friday nights, the yoga studio near your flat has a five pound community class that you pop in for, but those are infrequent too. 

Then there’s the odd night where he shoos you into the living room to put on a movie while he cleans up after dinner. You stare absentmindedly at his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves and then jump when you find him staring at you expectantly over his shoulder.

“Go put something on,” John tells you, a warning look in his eye. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Sorry,” you whisper before slipping off into the living room.

You can’t relax on the couch while you wait. You flinch when he finally joins you, sitting down on the other side of the couch suddenly. You hadn’t even heard him coming; he’s light on his feet for such a big man. 

The buddy cop comedy you picked barely distracts you from the fact that your boss is sitting on the other side of the couch. You spend the whole two hour run time so nervous that you’re afraid you’ll buzz right out of your skin. 

For absolutely no reason, of course, because all John does is make light conversation with you throughout the movie. Conversation that you respond to in curt, choked whispers. When he walks you to the door after the movie, all you can focus on is how utterly embarrassed you are for being so weird.

Your dreams that night come frantic and heady. Humid under the blanket. The phantom feeling of a body heavier than yours weighing down one side of the couch and you sliding towards it gradually, unable to even cling onto the arm of the couch to keep from falling into his lap. 

Then hands on your belly, cupping and holding. Thick fingers with hairy knuckles. A warm, tobacco smell wafting under your nose, sweet like tonka bean and smoke. Nothing you can do to keep them from travelling down your stomach and thighs and spreading your legs wide, big hands curving around your inner thighs until—

You wake up panting, fingers pressed against your clit in your sleep. It takes nothing to bring yourself over the edge, dark blue eyes swimming on the precipice of your conscious mind. 

“Sleep well?” John asks you the next morning when you show up on his doorstep, handing you the baby before you’ve even said so much as a word. You hold the baby to your chest like a makeshift shield. Anything to put some distance between you and the man who has now taken to starring in your dreams. 

“Not bad,” you squeak. 

You flinch when he guides you in with a hand on your back and shuts the door behind you. Your cunt pulses when his fingers press firm against the small of your back, hand bigger than you remembered from your dream.

As if you were ever going to end up anywhere but here.

[kira-akira]

What I Want You To Know About Long COVID

Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.

Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.

COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.

Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).

There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.

So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.

COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.

The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".

Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."

There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.

You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.

I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.

This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.

Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.

Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.

Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.

Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.

Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.

And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.

Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.

I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.

[sky-is-the-limit]

How Task Force 141 would react to you placing your hand on their upper thigh in public:

Captain Price:

This 40 year old man wouldn’t let you get away with a stunt like that in public. The moment your hand is on his upper thigh, he’d firmly place his own over yours, squeezing it just enough to warn you. "Behave." He’d say quietly, eyes locking with yours to make sure the message lands. If you were cheeky enough to push your luck and keep going, he wouldn’t bother with more words.

Instead, he’d order you up, his voice firm as he tells you to get to the car while he takes care of the bill. The drive wouldn’t last long before he’d pull over somewhere secluded, roughly bending you over the bonnet. "Thought you’d act up, did ya?" He’d mutter, hands already on your hips, ready to teach you a lesson you wouldn’t forget.

✰✰✰✰

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

Kyle would notice your hand sliding onto his thigh but he’d stay still, just to see how far you’d take it in the dark of the movie theatre. He’d pretend he didn’t feel it, keeping his eyes on the screen but he’d be holding back a grin. As your hand moves higher, closer to his growing bulge, his patience then would snap. He’d grab your wrist suddenly, leaning in close to whisper, "Fine, then. If you're so brave, let’s finish it here."

Without waiting for your answer, he’d drag you to the dirty bathroom, pushing you into a stall. "You wanna act like a dirty girl? Then you get treated like one." He’d say, motioning you to kneel on the filthy floor just to make sure you understood the consequences of teasing him like that.

✰✰✰✰

John "Soap" MacTavish:

Johnny would light up like a Christmas tree. The moment your hand rests on his thigh, he’d lean back with a grin, his legs spreading just a bit wider to invite you in. "Aye, don’t stop now.." He’d whisper, clearly enjoying the game. He’d egg you on, guiding your hand even higher, fully aware of the risk of being caught in the middle of the cafe.

If you hesitated, he wouldn’t let you off easy and his own hand would find its way between your legs under the table, not caring who might see. "Guess we’re giving ‘em a show today, bonnie."

✰✰✰✰

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

There's no beating around the bush with this man. He would catch on immediately and wouldn’t let you get away with it. He’d grab your wrist before you could move further and give you a knowing look. ''You’re not doing that here.'' He’d say, his expression serious.

He’d tease you a bit, asking if the three times he had you earlier weren’t enough and calling you greedy. ''Be good until I finish my whiskey, then we'll sort you out.'' He’d promise. You’d know to behave, or else he’d make sure you’d regret it but only when he decided it was time.

[niennanir]

Listen to your elders

So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.

So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.

But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?

In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.

Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download

Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 

No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.

Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife

You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.

Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:

use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.

Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.

Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.

You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.

Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour

In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock

Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)

Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.

Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine

Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.

Voila:

I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.

The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.

If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 

[fangirlstorycreator]

Alastor X Reader:

Context: When you discover it's Alastor's birthday, you want to suprise him with a thoughtful gift. But would it be one he'd like? And how would he show his appreciation?

Part 1/2

Shouting, swearing and things being thrown and broken had just startled you awake after a terrible nights sleep. Just like every other morning in the hotel. Why did Angel and Husk always have to be at eachothers throats? Just once, you'd like to wake up normally, without being disturbed. But, it wasn't like your afterlife was easy, it was hell. Groaning as you sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, still hearing Angel and Husk argue like an old married couple.

"Uugghh, please shut up you two"

This was the 5th time this week they'd done this. They didn't listen to Charlie when she asked them politely to stop, well, with your eye bags and pounding headache, they were about to be asked in a more aggressive tone. Once you were dressed, you made your way down the hallway, with a face like thunder, not wanting them to fuck up your sleep anymore. When you reached the top of the main staircase, you see Angel and Husk at the bar, Charlie desperately trying to calm them down, Vaggie struggling to get Nifty down from the curtains, and Alastor is sat on the sofa with Lucifer and Pentious.

"Angel, come on, let's just go for a walk huh?"

"Why the fuck would I wanna do that Charlie?! I ain't leavin till Whiskers hear says sorry to me!"

"I already told you! Don't call me Whiskers!"

"Then don't call me fake you stupid moth'a-"

"SHUT UP!!"

You scream down the staircase, making everyone go silent. The only ones who look slightly impressed are Alastor, Lucifer and Vaggie.

"For the love of god! You guys haven't let me get a decent night sleep all fucking week! I don't care what started this stupid little argument, but it's ending now! And I swear, if you wake me up with this stupid little war of yours one more time! I'll shove a vodca bottle so far up your asses, you'll be tasting it for a month!"

"There uh, there ain't no need to be like that toots-"

"Oh really Angel? There isn't? Tell that to my fucking headaches! You've both been asked by Charlie nicely to stop, but neither of you listened. Well now, your getting it from me! Both of you, grow the fuck up!"

".............I'm sorry toots"

"...Yeh...sorry"

Angel and Husk both say, embarrassed and unable to look you in the eye, Alastor and Vaggie just chuckle under their breath.

"Good. Now, I suggest you both make yourself useful and help Charlie by doing that project she wanted you both to help her with"

"Aww! But toots-"

"(Sturn look, raised eyebrow)"

"A'right, fine. C'mon Husk"

Charlie looks so relived, she mouths the words thank you before taking Angel and Husk to the activities room down the hall. When they leave, you exhale, rubbing at your temples walking to the bar, and grabbing a drink. In fear of you still being angry, Vaggie, Nifty and Pentious slip up the stairs. Alastor on the other hand, stands up from the sofa, leaving Lucifer and sitting on the bar stool infront of you.

"Bravo my dear! I am rather impressed. I won't deny, I came very close to doing something along those lines myself. But you beat me too it! And dare I say, in a much more entertaining fashion"

"Those two have been driving me crazy! Charlie's sweet, but those two need something more firm"

"I absolutely agree. I must say, it was quite possibly one of the most enjoyable moments I've experienced for quite some time. Even more entertaining than when Charlie's little father came along"

"Eh! I'm not little"

"Aha! You keep thinking that"

Lucifer scoffed, turning away and playing with a little yellow duck in a kings crown.

"I say my dear, you do look rather exhausted. Might a nap be beneficial to you?"

"I would if I could. Even when I was alive, no matter how hard I tried, I could never nap unless I was ill or on holiday"

"Well, why not imagine your on your holiday?"

"Alastor, have you seen where we are?"

"Hm, quite right. You have a point. Ah well, at least you mother'd those two imbesils into stopping their squabbles. They shouldn't make that same mistake again, not if they want to remain unharmed"

"I'm not usually like that. Just with a lack of sleep, I don't know what came over me"

"Worry not my dear, all of us hear know your not a spiteful or nasty person. In fact, since I've known you, I have often wondered on many occasions, why you ended up in hell rather than heaven"

"That's a story for another time Alastor"

"Of course, I wouldn't want to cross your boundaries. Ah! Would you look at the time, I must take my leave. I have a scheduled time to see my good friend Rosie. You remember Rosie don't you?"

"Yeh, the nice overlord from Cannibal Town"

"That's her. I'll tell her you said hello. I do hope you have a pleasant day my dear. (Kisses your hand) And Lucifer...eh..."

Alastor flips Lucifer the middle finger as he leaves, pissing him off, his horns slightly showing when his eyes glow red. They're relationship was just as bad as Angel and Husk.

"Just ignore him Lucifer, he just wants to get a rise out of you"

"Yeh, well it's fucking working. Hey? You mind grabbing me a drink?"

"Sure, what are you having?"

"Uuuuuuuumm? I'll have an old fashioned. Oh oh! And can you put it in a wide glass? I wanna float my little ducky in there"

You giggle at his cute request, he loved his ducks. After making him a drink, he sits next to you too, floating his little duck in the drink with a giddy smile and big shiny eyes.

"Hey, can I just say, Alastor wasn't the only one who liked the way you spoke to those two"

"I kind of guessed you did. Your eyes were darting back and forth between me an them. Like a child trying to listen in on a conversation he's not supposed to"

"Can you blame me? Other than the red asshole who lives hear, your the only sinner I've seen who has the balls to raise your voice in the hotel. And heck! I remember seeing you have a shouting match with that overlord Valentino a few months ago too!"

"Yeh, well, he hurt Angel. I'll always protect my friends"

"I know. We all know that. I think that's why those two listened to you when you scolded them. Your their friend, but you can be a stern mother figure if needed to be"

"That's so weird, both you and Alastor both said the word mother, I honestly never thought that word would be used to describe me"

"Well, it is now. I think this place needs a motherly figure. Even if it's to stop the everyday chaos that happens in this place. I mean, you remember when Charlie made that birthday celebration for Nifty?"

"Oh hell yeah, I remember. (shudder) Nifty's birthday was the definition of disaster"

"Yeh, thank golly that only happens once a year. But then, Charlie wants everyone to celebrate their birthday down hear, and that's probably gunna be even worse"

"Well, I doubt Husk won't try dousing his birthday cake in bleach like Nifty did. Isn't is Husk who has a birthday next?"

"Hm? I have no clue. The calendars behind the bar"

You grab the calendar behind the bar, flicking through it as you lean on the counter, Lucifer playing with his little duck as you read.

"Hm? That's interesting. Turns out the next person to have their birthday is Alastor"

"What?! Why do we have to celebrate HIM?! He's such an ass! Every single time he's hear, he always does something to piss me off!"

"Not everyone in hear hates him Lucifer. I know you and Husk do, it's understandable why Husk does, and with you, I think he just enjoys making you angry"

"Who the hell does like him then?!"

"Charlie does. Nifty, Angel enjoys trying to get a rise out of him sometimes. I like him too"

"Why?! He's a dick!"

"He's a dick to you. He hasn't behaved that way with me since we've met. If anything, he's been a real gentleman"

"Yeh, gentleman my ass!......Although, you do kind of have a point. I've seen him be nice to Charlie and Nifty, definitely more with you. You never know, he may have the hots for you. Don't fall for his bullshit if he does!!!"

"Lucifer, relax. You do know Alastor's Asexual right?"

"Huh?"

"He's not into sex"

"Not into!!-How the hell can someone not be into that?! Sex is awesome! I mean, me and Lilith back in the day, eheh, bow chick'a wow wow!"

"That's you Lucifer. Not everyone can like the same things"

"I just didn't know that about him. Right! I'm gunna tear him a new one about it!"

"No"

"What?!"

"Your not gunna do that"

"But why not?! I'm the king of hell! I can do whatever I like! Why-why'd you say no?"

"Think about it Lucifer. You'll be lowering yourself to his level"

"Oh shit, yeh"

"And your own daughter said this hotel is about bettering yourself. Don't copy Alastor's behaviour, rise above it. Have you ever heard of the phrase, kill them with kindness?"

"Well yeh, but how can-oooooooooohhh! I see what you mean!"

"Anytime he wants to make you angry, be positive. Because in failing to wind you up-"

"It'll drive HIM crazy! Yes! I love it! Thank you sweetie"

"Don't mention it. And, don't give him something condescending for his birthday either"

"Not even a duck in the shape of a big-"

"I know what your about to say, and it's a firm no"

"Nnuugghh ok. I'll....be nice to him or whatever"

"Good. Hey? Did I just hear your name?"

"Hm? Oh, I hear it too. Sounds like Charlie. I'll go see what she wants. See you later Y/N"

"See you Lucifer"

You can't help but chuckle, watching Lucifer jump down and dance towards the hallway, little duck in hand. Now it was just you, in blissful silence, ah it was wonderful. You knew it wouldn't last long, but it's nice to have it while you can. As you enjoy the peace, you look back at the calendar, seeing Alastor's name written on the page. You did wonder to yourself, what he would like, or even if he wants a gift? And his birthday was happening tomorrow, it was time to have a think. Later that afternoon, Alastor came back from his morning with Rosie, and saw you sitting on your own in the hotel lobby.

"Good afternoon my dear! How has the day been for you?"

"It's been nice thanks, Pentious and Nifty came through a few times, but everyone else seems to be busy doing their own things. How was Rosie?"

"Ah she was delightful, a lovely morning was had by all, haha! (Sits down next to you) What are you reading?"

"This? It's The Great Gatsby"

"Ah! I read that book before I died! I do believe it was published about 10 years before I ended up hear. It was a great read if I remember correctly"

"Did you know they made a film of it?"

"But of course! In 1926"

"Not just in 1926"

"I beg your pardon my dear?"

"Yep. They made it into a film two more times. The second time in 1949, and again in 2013"

"I say! One might think they would like to leave a classic alone once it's been put on the noisy electronic box. But they truly did it 3 times? I never witnessed any of them myself. The book shall be my only knowledge of the classic tale"

"To be honest, you weren't missing anything. I saw the latest film before I died, but I wasn't a fan. I much prefer the books"

"Aha! And that is why I truly enjoy your company my dear. Ahh, I sometimes believe you are the only person in this whole building whose company I genuinely like"

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"That's so sweet Alastor, thank you"

"Don't mention it. Actually, now that I have you hear for a moment, I did have a subject I wished to bring up with you"

"Oh? What's that"

"It's something I was waiting the right time for. More specifically, a time where none else was around to listen in on us. As you well know, I like to keep my life private, unless I choose to share it"

"I do"

"Well......as you are aware, aswell as a few of the sinners in this hotel....my....passions....desires.....they are not.....exactly the same, as everyone else. Case in point, my desires are almost on the opposite spectrum of someone like Angeldust"

"Yes. I remember when you told me about that"

"And while I do not enjoy or wish to take part in any form of sexual affection....it does not mean I retain from all forms of showing my appreciation. I don't know if you were aware, of me kissing your hand goodbye whenever I leave your company? And noticed that I do not do that with any other lady"

"I...may have noticed, yes"

"Well, that is my way of showing my affection to you. But there are times, I wish....I wish for your hand...to be your lips...."

"Alastor...I'm flattered"

"Thank you....but my question to you is....is this feeling...reciprocated?"

"(Blushing, tucking hair behind ear) It might be"

"My darling, if it pleases you, I would never much like to show you how much you mean to me. But as you know, being the radio demon and a powerful overlord hear in hell-"

"You'd rather keep what might happen between us, private"

"Indeed. But please understand when I say, it is not that I do not wish to be seen with you in public as my partner, I very much do. But if Vox or the other V's see you at my side as my partner, you may be at risk of being targeted by them, and you may be in danger because of me. I need to make sure I am strong enough to protect you against any of the V's"

"It's ok, I understand. To be honest, I'm not one of those people who loves to parade around the streets with a boyfriend. I'd rather spend my time with them, enjoying their company"

"Absolutely! But I promise you this, if this is something you wish to be a part of, we will walk hand in hand, side by side after a sensible amount of time. Once I know I am strong enough to take on and win against all the V's, I will not have to worry about your safety. Because your safety, my dear... is my highest priority"

"That's very considerate of you"

"(Chuckles lightly)"

Alastor's smile looks genuine right now, you can tell by how gentle his eyes were. Taking your hand, he places a kiss on the back like he always does.

"Alastor?"

"Hm?"

"I think you have a new target....don't you think?"

".....Aahh....my pleasure my dear"

Feeling his fingers delicately hold your chin, he looks deep into your eyes. Looking desperately at your lips, but lovingly into your eyes. He leans in closer, you can almost feel his lips, so close-"

"Hi guys!!"

You both sit back a little, a little spooked by Lucifer barging through the hotel doors, loud and proud.

"Whatcha both up to?"

"We were enjoying a peaceful conversation before you very rudely interrupted us! One might say, it was very inconsiderate to barge in on someone's conversation, without adequate reason"

"Ah get over yourself! This hotel's a free place! And my daughter runs it, so yeh! Hey hey Y/N! Wanna see the new little ducky I made today! Look look!"

Lucifer bounds over to you and Alastor, but only speaks and looks at you.

"Isn't he just adorable!!"

"Well, yes he is Lucifer. But uh? Why does he have a bottle of whiskey?"

"That's because I'm making little ducks of everyone in the hotel! It was Charlie's idea, but I like it! This one's the bartender"

"You mean Husk?"

"Oh! That's his name! I keep forgetting-"

"Excuse me! If you wouldn't mind, me and Y/N were actually in the middle of a rather important discussion"

"Oooooh! I'm so scared! What are you gunna do? Talk me to death?"

"Something like that can surely be arranged-"

Very quickly, you intervene, standing between them both when Alastor stood up, eyes darkening, and Lucifer smirking.

"Woh woh woh! That's enough! Both of you!"

"My dear, if he insists on causing an issue, I am in more than happy to deal with it"

"Awww! Is someone a little tetchy? Knowing your becoming an old man getting to you huh?"

"What?! How did you know I am to be-"

"It's on Charlie's calendar, dipshit!"

"That's it-"

Again, having to push them apart, this time, Alastor really looked like he was going to attack Lucifer.

"Alastor! Alastor look at me!"

You say calmly, taking his face in your hands, making him look at you.

"Look at me. Take a deep breath, in....and out...in....and out..."

If anyone else had asked him to do that, or touched his face, he'd push back. But because it was you, he didn't mind, and it was genuinely calming him down, even his eyes had changed back from black to red.

"That's it. Ok, we can finish our chat another time, but for now, why don't you just take some time to calm yourself in your radio station? You've told me thats your happy place. Please Alastor, please don't let this escalate anymore"

"........Alright my dear.......I'll take some time.....I shall see you soon"

His shadow engulfs him, sending him up the stairs and on his way to the radio station.

"Ah man, can you believe that guy? He gets so-"

"You know what Lucifer? I can't believe you!"

"Wait, what?"

"Didn't listen to a word I said today? About not lowering yourself to that level? Not doing to him what he does to you?"

"But I-"

"But nothing! You agreed to have a better attitude when your around Alastor and you've just thrown all of that out of the window!"

"I can argue with whomever I want Y/N! I'm the king of hell after all!"

"And your in this hotel to support YOUR daughter! Have you forgotten that? Stop acting like a child and at least try to make something work with Alastor"

"Why? Because you'll be disappointed?"

"Because this is Charlie's dream! You can't see how hard she's working to actually help people, and instead of doing what a father should be doing, your picking fights with Alastor! Stop acting so childish and help you daughter! I shouldn't have to tell you that!"

You can't talk to him anymore, and storm up the stairs.

"But Y/N wait! I...I AM trying to help Charlie"

"Then pack in whatever this is with Alastor, or at least try. Because it's going to be Charlie who's going to be affected. Just think about that"

Lucifer just stood there, frozen, feeling guilty, because he knew you had a point about Charlie and how hard she's been working to make this hotel what it is.

You on the other hand, slammed your bedroom door shut behind you, running your hands though your hair, headache pulsating in your head. This place would drive you insane some days. You throw yourself onto your bed, snuggling up with your pillow, wanting just 5 minutes of peace. But again, you lived in a hotel with many others. Three gentle knocks came to the door.

"Nngguuhh! Please go away....."

"(Muffled voice behind the door)....Toots? It's me. Can I come in?"

His voice sounded so innocent, sweet. Normally, Angel would be all proud, sometimes seductive with the way he spoke, but this sounded genuine.

"Yeh. Come in"

You say, sitting up on your bed, seeing Angel enter your room with a little smile.

"Hey. How yah doin?"

"I've been better. I just can't shift this headache"

"Well hear. (He says pulling out a packet of paracetamol) Maybe these will help?"

He sits down next to you on your bed, handing you the tablets.

"Thanks Angel"

"It's no problem. Hey uh...I just wanna say sorry for the way I've been actin recently. I dunno, I guess Husk just brings out that side of me. I swear, I didn't know I was wakin yah up"

"It's fine Angel. I feel like I should say sorry too for the way I spoke to you and Husk"

"Oh no no toots! What you did was great!"

"Wait, seriously?"

"Hell yeh! Me and Husk both said it was like a moth'a tellin off her kids! And I think we both needed that. Honestly toots, you didn't do nothin wrong"

"Ok, that's a worry off my mind"

"Can I uh.....can I share somethin with yah?"

"Of course"

"Having someone moth'a me like that.....I actually liked it. Not cuz I'm into strong, independent women, well, I am but that's not the reason. Since I died, I hadn't really had that feelin of being around family, and well......my moth'a used to keep me and my sister from having fights like that too.....you kinda.....remind me of my mom"

"....I do?"

"Yeh....and it's nice. It feels like with you, I've got part of my family down hear that cares about me. I know that's probably stupid of me to say-"

"Angel. That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I feel honoured that you see me like that"

"(Sighing in relief) I'm glad toots. Thanks, for everything"

"Come hear"

You and Angel share a sweet and tight hug, all 8 of his arms held you.

"I'll always be hear for you Angel"

"So will I toots, I promise"

A good 20 minutes had passed, just chatting with Angel in your room. Talking about the afterlife, his fights with Husk, and you take some paracetamol in that time too.

"Hey toots! Have yah thought about what your gunna get smiles for his birthday yet?"

"I'm not sure to be honest. He's a tricky guy to buy for, I'm not sure if he'd even like receiving gifts"

"Well.....you could always.....wait in his room, wearing nothin but a little bow around your neck..."

"Angel! That's-wait? Why would you-"

"I maaay have been walking past the lobby when Alastor and you were talking"

"Angel"

"Don't worry toots, your secret's safe with me. But dayum babe! You've got the radio demon himself wantin yah! You've gotta admit, that's awesome!"

"It is lovely being around him, I can't deny that"

"So? You gunna take my advice?"

"I would, if Alastor was into that"

"Oh yeh! He ain't is he? Damn it. Well, I have no clue what to get him. I don't know him that well"

"I've been trying to think of things that would remind him of happier times, or his memories when he was alive. Something like that, but I've had no luck just yet"

"Hm? That's interesting. Wait! Didn't he live in new Orleans?"

"Yes! He did!"

"Sweet! I'll think of something to do with that! Listen toots, I've gotta go now, but I'll catch up with yah lat'ah"

"Alright Angel, see you soon"

When he left, you tried to have a good long thing about what to get Alastor for his birthday. He was sometimes fond of trinkets, eh, not good enough for a birthday present. Come on think. He enjoys his radio, taking long strolls through pentagram city, spending time in his room that's also part swamp-huh! That's it! Angel had a point about New Orleans, Alastor lived there, and you were the only one he confessed to about his life before he died. And he had the swamp in his room for a reason, to remember. The perfect idea came to your mind, and that was it, you knew exactly what to get him. Getting out your phone, you search for any place you can go to 'acquire' this suprise gift. Hm? The only place that could have some luck is in the Wrath Ring. Somewhere called Rough 'N Tumbleweed Ranch, well, it's better than nothing. The next day was Alastor's birthday. And down stairs in the lobby, you walk up to Charlie, who was bouncing with excitement.

"Oh hey! Hey Y/N! What are you up too?"

"Just on my way out to get Alastor his gift. What about you?"

"Ooooooh! Exciting!! Well, I'm just trying to plan the theme for Alastor's party tonight. I'm not quite sure what to go for. What do you think? (Shows you her note book) big blue and sparkles? Or big red and sparkles?"

"Umm, somehow, I'm not sure Alastor is a sparkles kind of guy"

"Yeh your right. Ugh, I just don't know what theme to do, I'm stuck"

"I know, why not do a 1920's theme? Get everyone to dress up in clothes from that time, and maybe serve his favourite food? Jambalaya. And don't forget, he isn't a fan of sweets, so he wouldn't eat a normal cake. Try putting a candle on a roasted duck? He's said before that he likes that meat, and carving a slice would probably make him happy. And maybe the party food could be similar to the 1920's too? Like deviled eggs, waldorf salad, dutchess potatoes, shrimp cocktail, canapes, olives, or maybe oyster rockefeller?"

"Yes yes YES!! Oh thank you Y/N, your a genius! I'm writing everything you've just said down! (Squeaks) This is going to be perfect! Thank you thank you!"

"I can give you a hand later, but for now, I need to get going"

"Yes! Of course! Go go! Me and the others can make a start on this party, thank you again Y/N! See you soon!"

"Bye Charlie!"

And with that, you were off. Leaving the hotel as Charlie bounds with joy in the background. Taking a walk to the streets, you flag down a taxi and give him the directions to the ranch you saw online. It was a fair distance away, but you were happy when you arrived there, seeing the sign as the taxi pulled over.

After paying, you headed in and looked around for anyone, apparently, this place was owned by an imp family, who had many things in and around their ranch.

"Hey there! Can I help ya'll?"

"Hi! I'm Y/N. I hope you don't mind the drop in, but I saw your ranch online, and see that you sell things to people who offer a good price?"

"Thats right, what're yah wantin today? We've got vehicles and animals available"

"Can I look at your animals please?"

"Sure thing darlin, follow me"

This lovely imp lady takes you to a fenced area, with 2 types of animals already.

"Hear yah go darlin, we've got horses and hogs hear, I'll haggle the price depending on which size you choose"

"These are lovely animals, but I was just wondering if you had something that prefers to stay close to water? Or swampy areas?"

"Ah! I hear yah. Let me take you to the edge of the ranch, we've got a few little critters back there for sale too"

A short walk later, a marshy tree covered green pond, that's also fenced in securely, seems to have many more animals.

"A'right, we've got Hattie over there. She's a water snake, a little bitey though. Over there we've got Wade, the snapping turtle. Be careful around him, he'll snap your fingers off before you can say fuck! And over there we've got Dutchess, she's actually just had a new litter of babies about 2 weeks ago. Their quite cute when they're youngens, and surprisingly easy to train. So all these little thangs are perfect for swampy areas, just take your pick"

"Would it be ok to buy one of Dutchess's babies?"

"Of course yah can! We've got little animal carriers too for yah to take one home. Ya'll fussed about the sex?"

"If it's possible, could it be a female?"

"Absolutely. She only had one boy outta 5 girls. Let me just grab one, yep, this ones definitely a girl. She's at least 2 pounds, and a healthy one too. I'll give her to yah for 200 bucks"

"Sold!"

Link to part 2

[nereidprinc3ss]

pretty little things

in which you can't keep hiding your stuffed animals from your boyfriend. spencer would like a formal introduction.

fluff! warnings/tags: gn!reader I think, newish established relationship, they're so cute, reader is still kinda shy around him, I'm really obsessed with this dynamic actually, implied intimacy if you decide to interpret it that way, kissing/maybe mildly suggestive a/n: this is dedicated to my friends @parfaitblogs and @gublersg1rl bc in another universe we are actually just three jellycat plushies on someone's bed which is where the inspo for this little thing came from. and thank u willow for naming your fox. ok bye love u hope u enjoy !! :D

The first time you’d shown Spencer your room, and the handful of times he’s been in it since, you very intentionally hid your stuffed animals underneath the bed. After all, you’re an adult. You have a grown up job. And you don’t need him thinking you’re some kind of freak this early into the relationship. You like him too much. 

Today, however—you didn’t have any warning. He comes over unannounced, which is all well and good, until you bring him to your bedroom so he can sit on the bed while you change from work clothes into something comfier for movie night. As soon as you open the bedroom door, you see them, lined up neatly by your pillow, and you know it’s too late. 

“Uh…”

Spencer runs into your back and takes it as an excuse to settle his hands on your hips as he peers over your shoulder. 

“What?”

You slip out of his easy hold and skitter to your bed, practically throwing yourself on the mattress and sitting unnaturally as the little beaded eyes of your friends dig into your back. Even your brightest smile doesn’t distract Spencer. He’s like a bloodhound for the truth. At least, that’s the sense you’re beginning to get. 

“What are you doing?” He tries again, eyes narrowed and closing the door carefully behind him. 

“Nothing!”

The urgency with which you say it has his eyebrows raising. Obviously delighted by the embarrassing secret he’s sure to uncover, he approaches. You lean back further even as he towers over you until you’re almost on your back and he’s folded over you, menacingly (and dizzyingly) close. This sort of position is still new-ish and has your heart pounding, even if it’s entirely playful and ostensibly innocent. 

“Nothing? Are you sure?”

You nod, still shying away from him into the pile of pillows. Without looking he reaches under you and pulls out your pink bunny. You squeak and hide your face. 

“What is this?” He laughs, and you yank it away, sitting up so he’s forced to give you some breathing room. The bunny is cradled protectively in your arms, though you try to hold it a bit more casually when you notice. 

“I said it’s nothing.”

“What about the other two behind you? The fox and the… what is that? A deer?”

“No—”

“I didn’t even know they made deer stuffed animals—”

“Spencer, stop!”

He does, at the desperate tone of voice and the way you’re still hiding from him. 

“No, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

As usual he’s over apologetic, now sitting knee to knee with you on the mattress and leaning down to try and catch your eye. You huff and grant him some eye contact just so he doesn’t go over the edge with worry. 

“But it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s really not,” he laughs. “It’s cute. I can’t believe you’ve been—what, hiding them from me? This whole time? That’s like not telling me you have kids.”

“It is not like that.”

“Hm. I don’t know, I think you should probably introduce me.”

You give him a look, letting your head fall to your shoulder. “Spencer.”

“I’m serious. I’m going to be apart of their lives now. You can’t keep shoving them under the bed every time I stay the night.”

This nerd is going to be the death of you. 

Eventually, you groan reluctantly. 

“Fine. Okay, um—this one is… well—her name is Bunny. It’s not… very creative, but it’s—that’s just her name, okay?”

Spencer doesn’t react to your unjustified defensiveness—only grabs your bunny’s round little pink paw and shakes. “Enchanted.”

“Shut up.” Your face is so hot as you bury your smile and set Bunny aside, making sure she’s comfortable against the pillow before bringing out your deer. Spencer doesn’t have the shit-eating grin you were partially expecting when you glance up at him from beneath your lashes—he’s smiling, but it’s so soft. A little twisted, like he’s holding back the full extent of it for your sake. But you wouldn’t mind it at full power. It’s like he’s hiding the sun in a saucepan and the lid’s not on quite right. And he’s looking right at you. Like you’re the source of all his joy. 

A moment passes. You clear your throat and look back down. “Um—this is Bambi. ’Cause—you know.”

“I do,” Spencer agrees genially, nodding as if this were a normal conversation. “Kind of a dark thing to name your deer, though.”

“You’re judging,” you accuse balefully. He chuckles and his hand finds your knee, rubbing apologetically. 

“I’m not, I’m not! I take it back. I retract it. Continue, please.”

For a moment you only pout, but it doesn’t deter him—he simply looks at you expectantly, and now those syrupy eyes come with the added bonus of his hand on your leg. Fine. He wins. But not without a deep, tortured sigh from you while you’re grabbing your fox that makes the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“This one is…”

The name dies on your tongue, too ridiculous to be said out loud. 

“Tell me,” Spencer pleads in that gentle voice and with those big eyes that you’d consider burning him at the stake for because that look on his face has to be witchcraft. 

“Okay but you can’t laugh,” you insist in one quick breath, giving him a serious look that he can only partially reciprocate. 

“No laughing.”

“It’s… Mr. Cuddles.”Spencer bites the inside of his cheek to keep his promise. You melt inside both from embarrassment and from the way it only further defines an already superbly sculpted bone structure. “Do not.”

Spencer scoffs at your warning. “Don’t what? I’m behaving.”

“Don’t make fun of Mr. Cuddles!”

“Does it look like I’m making fun of him?”

“Her.”

“What?”

“Her. Mr. Cuddles is a girl.”

“I see… can you explain that to me?”

“If a human person said I am a girl and I would like you to call me Mister, would you question that? Would you ask them to explain it to you?”

“I guess not.”

“Exactly. Don’t be rude.”The way Spencer is looking at you now, eyes so clear and still so full of affection, like you’ve got some sort of heavenly spotlight trained on you, lips parted as if to say something but still silent, has you forgetting your momentary confidence. You shrink. “What?”

“I just… you’re amazing.” You throw Mr. Cuddles at his chest and fall into your pile of pillows with a groan. Spencer only continues rubbing your leg. It’s very nice, actually. He’s gentle. And patient. “You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe you came to this conclusion just because I introduced you to my stuffed animals.”

“Not solely because of that. There are a lot of contributing factors. I mean, the stuffed animal thing helped.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you insist for the umpteenth time. 

“It’s adorable.”

Spencer pushes pillows aside and lies next to you so you’re eye to eye. It’s nice how his presence isn’t exhausting the way people sometimes are. He’s easy to exist with. He makes you enjoy existing a little more than usual. Even now. 

You raise your eyebrows and speak, cheek squished against fabric. “I’m a serious adult.”

“I know you are,” he assures with a solemn nod. 

Your eyes narrow ever so slightly. 

“Okay… well… don’t go forgetting that. I’m fun but I can also be not fun.”

“I’d love to see that.”

“No you wouldn’t. You would hate it. You’d be so scared.”

Spencer gives up on holding back a smile and moves his hand to tuck hair behind your ear. 

“You’re right. I’m already terrified. The anticipation… it’s killing me, you know?”

You’re giggling as you roll over on top of him and he roots his hand in your hair, pulling you in for a long, smiley kiss like he knew it was coming. Only when he blindly throws your stuffed friends from the bed do you pull away—just by an inch or so. 

“No respect,” you scold playfully. He kisses you again, tangling your legs and hands wandering. 

“Can I apologize later?”

You’re good with that. 

[mostly-imagines]

NSFT Alphabet

jason todd x afab!reader

warnings: >18 i’ll block ur ass stay away 18+

A = AFTERCARE

Aftercare is just as important to him as sex itself, if not more so. He’ll lay with you until you catch your breath, giving light kisses to the nearest part of your body. Once you’re back to baseline, he’ll get a warm rag to clean you up, being more gentle than he needs to be with your sensitive body. If you want it, he’ll grab one of his shirts for you to wear and pull it over your head for you. He’ll cover you up in your blankets and hold you close, murmuring to you how pretty you are, how good you did for him, how much he loves you.

B = BODY

His favorite body part of his own is his arms. He likes how strong he is, plus they emphasize his frame which plays into his size kink too. For you, it’s your waist. As we’ll discuss more later, he loves holding onto your hips during sex and he’s a big fan of kissing down your stomach as a way to initiate.

C = CUM

He prefers to come inside of you most of the time, but he likes coming in your mouth or on your body too. He will not come on your face though, he feels like it’s disrespectful to you, even if you’re into it. He’s a big guy and he comes a lot—more than he wished he would. That's part of the reason he’d rather come in you than on you, he thinks it’s embarrassing how much comes out. The first couple of times you had sex he’d tried to distract you with kisses as he came, hoping you wouldn’t notice it. Once he learns that you don’t mind it though, even like it, it eases his anxieties considerably.

D = DIRTY SECRET

He’s definitely masturbated once or twice when you were asleep next to him and he didn’t want to wake you. He felt gross about it but you looked so good with the way his shirt rode up against the curve of your ass, your panties on display. Your cheek was mushed up against the pillow next to him and he wanted to kiss you silly more than anything, but you had to be up early in the morning. So he took care of it himself, admiring your pretty face. No, he’ll never tell you that happened.

E = EXPERIENCE

He’s had sex just enough to know that he has a big dick and has to be careful when he’s fucking someone. Before you it was mostly a method of blowing off steam, but it wasn’t something he craved like he does with you. There was always minimal kissing, if any, and it was more procedural than anything. So when it comes to romantic sex, his experience was 0 but that makes it that much better. He didn’t have too much experience otherwise and he was fine with that. He had more important things to worry about than sex. That was, until he met you.

F = FAVORITE POSITION

He likes anything where he can hold your hips the most. So cowgirl and missionary are never misses, especially for how well he’s able to see your face. He also likes fucking you against the wall, it makes for easy access to kiss you. In spite of how much he loves seeing your expressions during sex, he can’t deny how much he loves holding your hips in place during doggy. His least favorites are probably prone bone and reverse cowgirl, they’re too impersonal and dispassionate.

G = GOOFY

He’s going to take it very seriously the first handful of times. He’s not taking any risks about hurting you or making the experience anything short of extremely pleasurable for you. And in his mind, to do that he needs to focus. After you get more comfortable with each other though, he starts to relax and trust himself to be able to take care of you, even with a more laid-back attitude. The silliest sex you have will be when you’re drunk/tipsy, it’s very smiley and giggly. Generally, he’ll make jokes now and again, smile at your smiles, but he’s still more serious about sex than not.

H = HAIR

He’ll trim to keep up appearances, especially after he meets you, but it’s not something he’s overly concerned about. For you, he’s really truly completely neutral about whether or not you shave, but he’s likely to encourage you not to, if not only so you know you don’t have to change anything for him. But he won’t blink twice either way.

I = INTIMACY

Sex with you is always intimate for him. He tells you he loves you during it often, praising you constantly. He brushes your hair back when it gets messy and wipes your tears away with a gentle hand. He’ll call you beautiful and kiss you nice as he fucks you, holding your hand all the while.

J = JACK OFF

He rarely needs to get himself off, really only if he’s away on a mission for a while. It’s definitely not the preferred circumstances but he’ll make do when he has to. He feels like a fucking perv when he thinks about you while he’s doing it, but he can’t come otherwise. He knows you wouldn’t care but he still feels gross about it. The way he remedies this is usually by communicating with you directly, telling you how much he misses you and how much he wants you there with him.

K = KINKS

Above all else, he has a major size kink. He absolutely loves how much bigger than you he is and it gets him going at the most random times. He likes being stronger than you and making you go/stay where he wants you. On a related note, he also likes to restrain you. The implied deepness of the trust you have in him turns him on so bad. Plus, he likes being in control, and you not being able to wiggle gives him the chance to take care of you however he wants. Edging is another one he likes but he’s not always so good at it. He has a hard time denying you and when you’re begging him so sweetly to let you come…who is he to say no? Though, if you’ve been a bit of a brat he’ll be merciless about it. On the flip side, sometimes he’ll overstimulate you but it’s not his favorite of the two because he can’t always handle seeing you cry like that. But he does like the idea of you getting lost in so much pleasure that you don’t know what to do with yourself.

L = LOCATION

His favorite place to fuck you is anywhere in your apartment. Your bed, shower, kitchen, couch, the rug…He likes it a) because it’s private and he’s free to take care of his girl whenever he wants and b) he likes seeing you in the same spot going about your day where he’d made you come just a few hours ago. He’s also not opposed to subtle car sex, especially for going down on one another. He’s not a big fan of public stuff, if he were to do it, it would be in a situation where he was certain you wouldn’t get caught. He’s too private to get off on the risk and frankly, he doesn’t much like the potential of someone else seeing you the way he gets to see you.

M = MOTIVATION

He gets turned on by just about anything you do. If you wear tank tops, his clothes, shirt and no pants, those will all get him going. Then there’s things like play fighting, seeing you stick up for yourself (especially against him), when you yell, if you just touch him. He really is in love with you and everything that you do.

N = NO

JTLHGF!jason is mainly dominant, but he can be submissive for you if you approach it the right way. You’d have to be subtle and encouraging or else his pride will get in the way. Anything him or you do in these times would be very soft and gentle, more vanilla than anything for the sake of reassurance. His biggest no here is restraints. Sex requires a lot of trust for him and as much as he does trust you, he would feel much too vulnerable tied up and he wouldn’t like it. However, when he’s the one in control he’s not afraid to be more…adventurous. That being said, he wouldn’t be into choking you or hitting you. I think even if you were very clearly into it, it would make him feel bad about himself on multiple levels. He doesn’t want to hit you, even sexually, and hates the idea of his hands around your neck. Public stuff makes him uncomfortable and degradation is a hard no for him.

O = ORAL

He prefers going down on you by a mile. He’s usually hesitant to let you do it, he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to or for you to potentially lose any pleasure during sex. He really does think it should be all about you and he has a hard time grasping that making him feel good makes you feel good too. He likes to hold your hands when he eats you out, or your waist. He doesn’t want to lose any physical contact with you—it’s a very intimate thing and he’ll treat it as such. He’s also been known to rub soothing patterns into your waist or wrap his arms around your thighs to hold them apart. When you give him head it’s overwhelming for him. He denies himself of it so much that he can’t handle it when he actually gets it. He likes to hold your hands here sometimes too, but more often than not he’s holding your hair out of your face so he can see you—the gentle weight of his opposite hand on the back of your head. He’ll struggle to catch his breath, lips parted.

P = PACE

It all depends on the mood for him. He can and will switch it up as needed. He can be very intense and rough, fast thrusts and heated kisses. This can be passionate or angry sex. He can also take it very slow and sensual, and depending on his mood, this can be either very romantic or very torturous.

Q = QUICKIE

He doesn’t really like quickies that much, he definitely prefers to take his time with you. Quickie’s don’t really allow him to prep you properly, something that’s incredibly necessary when having sex with him. Anyways he wants to make sure he’s able to give you the best experience possible and he can’t do that if he’s rushing. No, he really prefers to take as much time with you as possible.

R = RISK

As mentioned, he’s not much for risky situations. The riskiest he’ll get is car sex or sex at the manor. He might make out with you in an alleyway but he won’t full-on do it with you outside. He doesn’t want to be caught, doesn’t want to worry about it when he has more important things to focus on.

S = STAMINA

He can go for several rounds most nights and even needs to often. He feels bad about it sometimes though, he feels like one round should be enough for him and he shouldn’t need to take even more from you. Once he eventually gets it through his head that it’s okay for him to need more, he’s relentless. The thing about him is that he requires little to no recovery time post-orgasm before he’s on you again so you might have to remind him to slow down a little.

T = TOYS

He’s not the biggest fan of toys, honestly. He doesn’t like the idea of a piece of plastic making you come, doing his job for him. It also means he’s less hands on and he doesn’t like that at all. That’s not to say he wouldn’t use them ever, he just wouldn’t go out of his way to make it happen. If you had a vibrator or something and you wanted to use it he probably would, if not only so you don’t use it by yourself instead. Beyond that there’s not too much I see him wanting to use, nothing very intense for sure.

U = UNFAIR

He’s a big tease but doesn’t always have the capacity to see it through. If you beg him just the right way he just has to give you what you want. Until you’re able to crack that code though, he seems like an unbeatable force. He’s constantly touching you and it’s hard for you to tell if it’s absentminded or if there’s something more behind them. He’s an expert at attacking that one spot on your neck and getting you just as desperate as he is within a matter of minutes.

V = VOLUME

He’s a groaner and a grunter, low and deep. He, maybe intentionally, stops himself from moaning more often than not, especially when you’re first together. The best way to get him to make noise is to suck just below his jawline, caress over his v-line, or blow him. He can’t control himself when you do any of that.

W = WILD CARD

Jason secretly loves it when you give him as much shit as he gives you. He loves when you tease him, when you tell him “no, we’re not having sex you were being mean.” He can’t stop himself from smiling when you yell at him and he doesn’t even wish he could. As much as he doesn’t want to be submissive, he loves it when you don’t either.

X = X-RAY

Yeah so he’s 8.5 inches hard. He’s a big guy, it stands to reason that he’d have a big dick. It’s fat too, enough to make you cry the first time you take him.

Y = YEARNING

His sex drive is pretty fucking high after getting with you. It operates half as a means of affection and half as a stress reliever. And boy does he need stress relief. There’s phases where he wants you as much as every day, but more often than not it’s like 3-4 times a week.

Z = ZZZ

He wants you to fall asleep before him afterwards, he thinks it’s rude or something if he dozes off first. He’ll often brush his fingers up and down your back, easing you into sleep. If he’s not tired afterwards he’ll read while you nap on his chest, comforted by the in and out of your breaths.