#oliver lax

[xxspellbloxedxx]

Happy birthday Tawny!

[dare-g]

The Sky Trembles and the Earth Is Afraid and the Two Eyes Are Not Brothers (2015)

[aro-oak]

And TOMORROW I shall begin the Oh God I Just Realized That I Am Extremely Constipated And Need To Poop procedure

[gregor-samsung]

O que arde [Fire Will Come] (Oliver Laxe - 2019)

[saveblackcats]

#firewillcome #oliver laxe

[greed-the-dorkalicious]

Apparently Starbucks is now selling olive oil coffee (?!?!?!) and it’s causing people to shit like crazy. Which is hilarious to me because 1. I am from a culture famous for its consumption of both coffee and olive oil, and never in my fucking LIFE would I have thought to combine them and 2. THEY PUT A LAXATIVE IN ANOTHER LAXATIVE WHAT DID THEY THINK WAS GONNA HAPPEN

[johnesimpson]

Big Things in Tiny Packages

Haldor Laxness, Mary Oliver, Paul Broks, and William Martin: 'Big Things in Tiny Packages'

[Image: “Elephant Topography,” by John E. Simpson — chosen almost automatically to head this post, as soon as I saw the Mary Oliver quotation below. (Photo shared here under a Creative Commons License; for more information, see this page at RAMH.) ] Thinking this week about the abundant wonders of (relatively) small bits of (relatively) large contexts… thanks, in no small part, to whiskey…

[enviedear]

my modern!jace hcs and thoughts…

request ⊹ jacaerys masterlist

౨ৎ ┄───────╮ got a bit carried away with what was supposed to be hcs... but i can't help it! modern!jace scratches an itch somewhere in my brain—especially lawyer/law student!jace. don't question the family dynamics too much for this au. i don't have the brain capacity to rearrange and fix that mess <3

╰───────┄ ౨ৎ

twenty-two and a recent graduate. he majored in law with a minor in public policy. his younger brother, lucerys, makes frequent comments about how boring it all must be, but jacaerys velaryon loves it. he’s following the family line, after all.

he took office at one of his mother’s law firms, a by-product of having a family in the affairs of state. however, the firm is actually headed by his mother’s aunt, rhaenys. his mother, rhaenyra is in the middle of an election, running opposite otto hightower—a man jacaerys is lax to admit kinship to.

on paper he’s an associate, in practice, he’s whatever his family and their board need him to be. he likes it that way—being dependable.

he has such a large family, even disregarding those somewhat estranged. if you asked him to directly place everyone to their respective titles he couldn’t, so he settles for the ease of endless uncles, aunts, and cousins.

his schedule is usually packed—so when he is free, he likes to spend his time well. his best friend, cregan, gets him out of the house most the time. an easy task since the stark family owns numerous ski resorts. a perfect respite from his life of public service, at least that’s what cregan says.

jace absolutely hates the media, not necessarily social media though. his instagram stories are frequently full of reposts or camera roll dumps, his twitter constantly active but he mourns public likes. he loves to engage with factitious headlines about himself and his family, to his mother’s chagrin. he’s blocked on all social media by the estranged hightower news, headed by his mother’s old friend turned step-mother, alicent. a topic the family attempts to gloss over when in public.

has a laundry list of fashion houses at his disposal. he went viral once for “mogging” in armani at his grandfather’s funeral. he drunkenly admitted after the service that he figured viserys would have deemed it a rather lovely suit, despite the occasion. mostly, he shares his uncle laenor’s love for couture, a man who is firm in belief that a bit of pageantry never hurt anyone. almost exclusively wears canali for everyday wear, a luxury his paychecks find no issue with fulfilling.

listens to every single book he 'reads'. his airpods are constantly in his ears but he rarely opts for music. he listens to the greats on repeat, or at least that's what he calls them—near constant loops of orwell and machiavelli. he has a guilty pleasure for brandon sanderson novels though.

jacaerys is embarrassed to have a chauffeur for any and all events with his family, but he does an excellent job at hiding it. he’s is chronically good at masking any signs of disdain. his family would tell you he’s perfectly agreeable— his brothers, lucerys and joffrey, know him better, can spot his muddled ill temper through anything. he can hold his tongue most of the time, far better than the rest of his family, but he’s known to have his moments.

on his own, he drives a aston martin valour. wrapped olive green with burnt orange accents. it was pricey, a fact his uncle corlys never ceases to remind him of, but he loves it. gave it a name and everything—vermax.

the only cousins he talks to regularly are the twins, baela and rhaena. they flock together during board meetings, three ideal images of the pristine image their family attempts to portray. he and baela are most like minded, so much so that the rest of the board jokes they’re reading each others minds.

on the opposite end of the spectrum, alicent’s children— aegon, aemond, and helena, are of much different minds. the eldest of the them is prepped to take over his grandfather’s media empire. a complete disaster waiting to happen given aegon’s incessant and very public bad behavior. jace figures the young man more of a puppet if anything. the second born is somehow an even worse case, behavior less public but far more… sadistic. aemond is known in well to do social circles for his vitriol, mouth constantly fixed to land a cutting blow.

the youngest, helena, is actually quite sweet albeit heavily reclusive. she’s the founder of several successful ventures, thrust into the spotlight at a young age. these days the most the public get from her is a monthly blog update—refined and well crafted—detailing a mix of what she learned that month and a few run-on sentences about insects. but she always finds time for him at their disjointed family events, no matter the animosity in the room. she’s one of his favorite people to talk to. jace swears that somehow, she always knows just what to say.

on sunday’s he winds up at one of his uncle daemon’s golf courses. am agreement he took up after the death of viserys. his uncle is lonely without his brother, and he’s never had to tell jace that for him to know it. jace is rather shit at the sport, but he’s found that as long as daemon has a drink in his hand, nothing will be commented on. sometimes luke will tag along just to gloat, his younger brother has always been at golf.

every christmas he takes his siblings on a hunt. just like their dad, harwin, used to. it’s gotten to be a big deal after so many years. his mother often reminds him, jokingly, that he is the reason their home has become the holiday stomping grounds. he’s replied back many times that at least that saves them from the hightower’s grounds, and their brutish security detail. headed by one criston cole, he’s has never gotten a good feel for the man—or the men under his command.

jace can’t fall asleep without some form of auditory stimulation. he blames laenor, always gifting a young jace pirated lullaby cd’s… for some reason. nowadays, he’s usually a listening to a history podcast before bed. never picky on the topic or timeframe, he could listen to the tales of the past forever.

additionally—jacaerys loves linguistics. if you looked through his search history you’d find the following searches: why do we feel different when speaking in a different language? / are there languages with no numbers? / what happened to the transatlantic accent? / “where did the word ‘cocktail’ come from?

he has successfully created and maintained a masked dj persona after a drunken dare in ibiza from rhaena. he’s booked a handful of gigs, all without his name attached to it. rhaena keeps it a secret, at the promise she gets to accompany him at her own whim.

jace has only ever publicly has had one relationship. he dated cregan’s half-sister for a few years, sara. sure he had to deal with his best friends griping for a few years, but he really did love the girl. they broke up due to their schedules, moreso, his schedule. he promised baela he won’t make the same mistake in his next relationship.

he never has trouble finding people to fawn over him, but he does have a horrible issue with committing. not that he wants to play the field or hurt hearts, but he truly believes no one will ever give him the grace he needs to feel secure in the relationship. he feels like he already has too much baggage, carrying his own and his family’s. at this point, he’d rather have a few hookups as opposed to being let down—jacaerys hates that the most about himself, above all else.

that’s why he so confused as of late. unable to seem get his mind off of someone—something completely unaccustomed to him. you’re fresh at the firm, relegated to coffee runs and still straight to the book but god—jace thinks you're perfect.

he didn't even fully grasp his fixation on you until asking himself why on earth he keeps volunteering you to sit in on his client meetings. he almost shutters everytime he remembers the stupid excuse he forced out after you dared to ask him why—"i just write so slow, and i don't want to miss anything." a lie. jacaerys could tune out a client for an entire session and still win a case, but he determined early he'd rather bask in yout presence instead. however diluted he must keep his feelings...

[citrustan]

hi, drabble request! hope this reaches you too 💌

yoongi & reader domestic fluff spice 🫣

hii thanks for this! i'm kinda rusty so i'm assuming domestic is when they're in a relationship and share a home (?)

this is not an original scenario, i simply can't remember where i first saw/read this or something similar. i know 'himym' introduced the 'olive theory' so let's just say this is based on that!

mushroom theory (myg)

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, boyfriend!yoongi x girlfriend!reader, smut but not all the way. + i picture yoongi to be older than the reader.

warnings: some tit stuff bec if you haven't already realised by now, i love boob, yoongi gropes reader, some grinding and finger stuff. boyfriend loves being called oppa. < i might've overdone that 🤐

You barge into your home, pushing Yoongi out of the way, "I can't believe I didn't know you liked mushrooms. Why did you let me eat them every time?"

Yoongi follows you in and shrugs, "I thought you liked them."

Flabbergasted, you almost screech, "I hate mushrooms! They're.... fungus and gross and I can't believe you made me eat them all these months."

How is he so nonchalant about it?

You step out of your heels and balance yourself on each foot, one at a time, as you pull your socks off of them.

Yoongi wants to laugh but he knows this is serious for you, "I don't know what to say, babe, you never asked."

"Because I thought," you emphasise on your subjects, "I was doing you a favour."

"By eating every mushroom you see?" Yoongi finally grins.

Abruptly turning, you chuck a sock at him (which he dodges swiftly) and frown, "You're laughing. I stuff myself, FOR YOU, with the only food I hate and you're laughing."

Slowly making his way over to you, Yoongi sighs, "It's not that serious, _____. You never have to eat one again, ever."

Unwilling to let it go, you interrogate him, "Riddle me this; why did you push all those mushrooms to the side on our first date? You picked every single one out."

He walks past you to the couch, where your other sock lay. "I was saving them for the end."

"But you let me eat them," your brows scrunch in confusion, "Why didn't you stop me?"

He beacons you over with a 'come closer' motion of his finger.

Yoongi pulls the oversized sweater over your head. "Well, you put them all in your mouth before I could stop you. Sorry. I thought you'd hurt me if I said anything."

You swat him with your sleeve, "I just didn't want to condone food wastage."

The rant is endless. "I mean, I've never seen you serve yourself mushrooms either! Your friends are evil too. They waited all this time to tell me you loved mushrooms. You people just watched on as I suffered."

"_____, we're going in circles." With his finger, Yoongi directed you to turn around and you happily comply.

You exasperate, "Sorry! I just can't believe I could've gone all those months without secretly gagging during every meal."

Yoongi presses himself against your back enveloping you in a hug, and suggests, "Why don't we make a list of the foods we like and dislike?"

Leaning back into him, you slur, "Maybe..."

More like sulk.

Yoongi drags his large hands up and down your arms and across your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in pursuit.

When he feels you lax, Yoongi sneakily inches under your white cotton camisole, prodding at and caressing your underboob, enjoying the softness of your skin.

You lock your arms down so he wouldn't pull away easily.

His fingers work their way towards your perked nipples. You help him out a little and pull the flimsy neckline of your top lower to free your breasts.

He wets the pads of his fingers with his tongue and skillfully circles them all over your areola, avoiding your nipples.

You fidget a little as Yoongi teases you, holding off on *actual* foreplay.

"Stop moving, _____." Yoongi scolds.

You squirm more, grinding back against his crotch, letting out small moans of frustration and pleasure.

Indirectly, you motivate him to continue messing with you. He gets off on your bratty yet submissive demeanour.

"Oppa, please..." you whine, "I'm gonna cry..."

Yoongi nearly laughs at how eager you were.

Not wanting to torture you any longer, he spins you around to face him and dives in, tonguing your nipples. At first, he uses his hands to squeeze your tits together, giving him access to both nipples at once. He wets both your nipples, lickng and sucking on them.

"Oppa! More! Please!" You squeal a few incoherent words along the lines of 'harder' 'yes' and 'more'.

You grab onto his almost shoulder-length hair and push your chest harder against his mouth.

One of his giant hands is now wrapped around your lower back to support your wobbly-self, and the other is busied with rubbing, pressing on and gently pinching your free nipple while the other is caught in his mouth.

The cool air attacks your nipples, hardening them even more, each time he pulls them out of his warm, and wet mouth. It's never-ending.

Yoongi kisses, licks and sucks on your nipples as his hands travel down to grope your ass. You desperately grind your aching pussy on him.

You're seeing stars at this point.

Catching on to it, Yoongi spins you around yet again, making your back face him.

It's an everyday thing for the two of you. Your boyfriend was obsessed with your breasts.

Almost every night, after Yoongi's back home from a tiring day at work, he demands to make out with your tits and you've never skipped out on that opportunity.

Sometimes it even helps you sleep better after he's done suckling and slobbering all over your chest. (Or maybe it's the orgasm that helps.)

You begin to sway, with your back still pressed against Yoongi's front, to imaginary music as he struggles to undo your skirt.

Playfully, you condescend, "Does oppa need help taking a teensy skirt off?"

Yoongi looks taken aback. Scoffing, he roughly lifts your skirt, pulling it up higher and revealing your painfully regular, unsexy, washed-out blue cotton panties. You gasp mischievously, "Oppa, be gentle!"

Wasting no time, he grabs you by the waist and drags you to his recliner chair, walking backwards. You pout, feigning offense, "Oppa, you're so harsh..."

Yoongi scoffs in amusement and plops on the comfortable chair, pulling you down on his lap. You squeak an apology when your back harshly smacks into his face (although by no fault of yours.)

Yoongi groans and pulls your knees apart, elevating and pulling them back towards your heads, exposing your still clothed centre.

Yoongi wishes he had a mirror in front of the two of you so he could watch your expressions as he teases you. Maybe he'd bribe you to tag along to IKEA with him the very next day.

You're dripping through your panties, halfway to an orgasm. All because of Yoongi's mouth on your tits. It's only a little humiliating.

Your breathing stabilizes as Yoongi gives you time to steady yourself.

That doesn't last too long after Yoongi's finger traces your sensitive, puffy lips. You jerk and shiver involuntarily, but he holds you in place. The shielded, tiny bundle of nerves yearning to be played with makes you clench around nothing.

Yoongi stuffs his hand inside your panties and begins palming your pussy, getting your essence all over his palm. Your head instantly lolls back as you thank him profusely.

Yoongi groans, his fingers instantly finding your clit, "Fuck... _____, you're so wet. Didn't even have to use my spit. So fucking slippery already..." His throaty tone making you hornier by the second, you moan in delight, "Mm! Oppa... please don't stop..."

Yoongi feels like a pervert getting off on being called 'oppa' by you as he continues teasing your clit, lightly drawing circles on the hood.

"Oppa, please I need your cock in me. Want you to creampie me..."

A little surprised, he scoffs, "What a desperate slut."

You moan (whine) in agreement.

He's unbelievably hard but he won't give in just yet. He kisses the back of your shoulder instead.

Yoongi's middle and ring fingers tease your tight, wet entrance while he thumbs your clit (a little harder this time.)

"Show me your hands." Yoongi's demand confuses your already-dazed self but you comply, lifting both your open palms up close to your faces.

With his free hand, one at a time, Yoongi pulls your hands to his mouth and licks your fingers, "Play with your tits."

You obey and begin tenderly squeezing your breasts, feeling all around and over your areola, rubbing Yoongi's spit on them while gradually building up to toying with your perked nipples.

Never taking his thumb off your clit, he speeds up, now drawing tight circles on your ultra sensitive sweet spot. Your legs spread themselves wider and your fingers seem to have a mind of their own as they mindlessly pinch and soothe your sensitive nubs.

You're unapologetically leaking on Yoongi's very expensive trousers. He doesn't mind though. Yoongi wouldn't mind even if you peed on him. HIS words, not yours.

"Yoongi. Oh, Yoon- Yoonie..." Your whines and moans get breathier and (variations of) his name frequents your tongue as you begin to squirm harder in his lap.

Torturous, his digits continue their assault on your puffy little cunt.

Still barely penetrating you with two of his fingers, Yoongi presses his thumb down harder on your clit flicking it side to side, earning high-pitched cries from you.

Your breathing quickens and your hips lift involuntarily. Your orgasm's so close you can smell it. As can your boyfriend.

Yoongi's face twists in pleasure, watching only his fingers pull these reactions out of you.

"Please, faster, Yoonie... I'll be so good for you, oppa." Letting go off your breasts, you grip the arm of the recliner and your boyfriend's too. You begin grinding down on Yoongi's stiff cock, still hidden in his pants, as you near your climax.

Your somewhat coherent moans turn into nonsensical cries and babbles as Yoongi rubs your pussy faster every second.

The back of your head slams into Yoongi's shoulder. Taking advantage of the change in your posture, he leans in to kiss you, muffling your borderline screams, still playing with your clit.

"Mmmffhp...!!" A specific, very intentional, graze of Yoongi's finger on your other, tight hole sends you through the roof.

Yoongi vocalises in content and satisfaction as you begin to writhe uncontrollably on his lap as your orgasm takes over your entire body.

He palms your pussy to distribute the pressure and help you avoid overstimulation.

You force your tongue into his mouth and suck on his own as he brings you back down on Earth.

The muscles of your lips hurt from kissing so hard.

Reluctantly, Yoongi's the one who pulls away first.

He draws your legs shut and lays you across his lap, as well as the chair could accommodate it, supporting your upper back and head with his arms.

Yoongi smiles and watches your tummy move up and down as you breathe, thinking you'd be falling into slumber anytime now.

After lying motionless for another few minutes, your eyes open and focus on the fond expression on your boyfriend's face.

Your smile comes naturally as you decide to straddle him. All things innocent, of course.

Six months ago, Yoongi most likely wouldn't have known you. If he had somehow noticed you, he probably only knew you as just another girl from his friend's workplace who invited herself to every one of their group hangouts to stare at Yoongi. Not that he ever complained. But now, you're one of, if not the most important people in his life without whom he'd be incomplete.

As cheesy as it sounds, he can't rephrase it. You complete him. You're 'it' for him.

Resting your cheek on top of Yoongi's head, you sigh dreamily, "Thank you."

"Mm." Yoongi simply vocalised in response and held you in an embrace, planting innocent kisses across your breasts.

A peaceful moment passes. Then you gasp in realisation, "Oppa!" You cheer, "We have the whole 'olive theory' thing going!"

Yoongi pulls away to look up at you. The red 'afterglow' tinge on Yoongi's face darkens just a little, thoroughly endeared by your usage of the affectionate term. Almost to the point where he nearly misses everything it was followed by.

He catches himself, "We do?"

"It's this theory that tests how compatible a couple is." You explain, "If one likes olives and the other doesn't, they'd be the perfect match!"

Ah.

"So you're saying we're a perfect match?" Yoongi smirks, feeling smug.

You blink down at him, "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I would." He nods, "I love you."

Placing a chaste kiss on Yoongi's lips, you smile, "Good." It's sort of an unspoken 'I love you too'.

note: im sooo sorry it took so long! this was like one of the first requests i received so thanks again!

i'm still learning to write smut ok be nicE

this is unedited too 🫣 srry

[xxspellbloxedxx]

[heizouz]

nsfw sub!heizou + gn!reader, overstimulating

"m-my god, please, please, god." you'd never seen him this desperate before.

heizou's work papers are spread out around him on the bed, messily strewn and unorganised. he's only in his shirt, unbuttoned, and his black tie hung loosely around his collar.

he's already cum once, made a mess all over himself but you hadn't given him a chance to breathe as you continue to drag your hand over his cock, your speed not changing.

heizou gasps, fingers grabbing the sheets and his shirt rides up his stomach when he arches his back off the bed, head thrown back and thighs shaking slightly.

"i'm.. i- i'm-" heizou cuts himself off constantly, with whimpers and whines, gasping for air. he can't think about anything but your hand on his cock, and he's bucking his hips into your fist. he feels dazed and dizzy, everything too much because you've never overstimulated him before.

"'m gonna cum, pl-mhfuck please." the last 'please' comes out breathless and heizou looks at you through his eyelashes before he moans loudly, fucking into your fist needily and you just let him.

"you gonna cum again, doll?" you tease, voice soft and you pick up your pace only slightly but it knocks a pretty moan from his lips.

heizou nods all pliant, eyes big and teary and he whimpers, "y-yeah-mh.." his eyebrows are furrowed, pretty lips open in small pants and he's still needily canting his hips into your hand. his laid-back, confident persona had simmered away, desperation clinging to him as soon as you had got your hands on him.

you tilt your head slightly, watching as he fucks himself with your hand and the red haired keeps gasping loudly. you lean over him - unbothered about crushing his papers - hand never slowing down on his cock and you gently hook your finger under his chin to make him look at you. heizou's olive eyes are dazed, only just open as he pants heavily, chest rising and falling and small whimpers leave his lips.

"you're so pretty, darling. so pretty when you're so desperate," you look down to watch your hand slide up and down his pretty cock dripping onto his stomach, "gonna make another mess for me?"

heizou nods again, eyes closing, "mhm.. pl..please."

you can't help the small smile forcing its way onto your lips at how needy he is. you'd never seen him so submissive before, his brain almost completely switched off of anything but you and your hand on him.

"oh, god.. please.." you squeeze his cock lightly, turning his head to look at you again and there's not a single thought behind his pretty eyes other than wanting to cum for you.

heizou makes the prettiest noise when you tease the head of his cock, back arching off the bed as he moans, fucking into your fist once again. you bite your lip gently, watching as he drips against your fingers and you part your lips in awe, "fuck. i could have you like this all day."

you watch him break - panting and gasping endlessly, hands grabbing everything he can: the sheets, your forearm, his work papers by his side.

brushing your thumb over his tip again, you swallow his pretty whines when you press your lips to his. heizou whimpers against your lips, kiss desperate as he gasps into your mouth, hips knocking into your fist in a needy way of showing he was close.

you quietly groan against his lips and he only lasts a few more seconds. it takes just a small flick of your wrist for him to snap.

the red haired pulls away from your lips, head falling back on to the bed in a silent gasp before a loud moan rips from his throat. heizou's back arches, fists gripping the sheets and eyes rolling back when he cums against your hand. you don't move away from his face, watching his eyes open slightly and pretty tears shine in them. you lean down to press a desperate kiss to his lips and he can hardly kiss back, whole body lax.

"fuck, that's it baby." you groan and stroke him through it as he cums, making a mess all over your fist and his stomach and his thighs shake as he gently bucks into your hand. heizou's shirt is crumpled underneath him, along with a few of his papers but he doesn't even realise, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath.

you don't let up though. your hand still works along his cock, albeit slower than before to help him through the sensitivity. your strokes are light but the touch is enough for heizou to whimper, head shaking, "stop, please.. please.."

"you can do one more, can't you?" you smile, watching heizou's hips stutter every time your hand glides up his cock, "c'mon, darling."

heizou almost cries out once your grip tightens a little, eyes welling up with pretty tears. the red haired breathes heavily, eyes glancing at you desperately, "can't- i can't, please."

despite the denial, he lets out a quiet moan, eyebrows scrunching. heizou's legs unconsciously fall open and a grin tugs at your lips.

"that's a good boy."

[lawsfuckasshat]

✙ ✙ ✙ olive branch. 🕊️🫀

gn!strawhat!reader, pre-dressrosa.

warnings: swearing, brief death mention, pre-relationship, law’s perspective, very short and hopefully sweet. not beta’d.

a/n: first time posting my writing ever… i hope it’s alright! i don’t think there’s an official reason for why law dislikes bread, but i like the headcanon that it’s because corazón doesn’t like it either :))

“so, is it like, a yeast thing?”

law rolls his eyes, face painted with his typical scowl. as cool, mysterious, and annoyed as ever. he crosses his arms, leaning back against the mast.

“no, __-ya.” he utters. you nod sagely, like you’re studying the guy under a microscope, and don’t seem deterred by his attitude in the slightest.

“then… is it a texture issue? ‘cause i totally understand that, i really don’t like-“

“i’m finding it difficult to understand why you want to know so badly.” law wishes that his intentionally curt answers would make you stop pestering him, would make his heart stop skipping beats every time you tried to pry open his hard outer shell. ‘mind over matter’ works well in every other aspect of how he presents himself, but the blood rushing to his face refuses to cooperate with him. great.

“i just wanna understand you,” you reply earnestly, “and what goes on in that pretty head of yours, is all. ya know?” for a split second, law is afraid that his heart has failed, if the free-falling drop in his chest is anything to go by. how could you say something like that so easily? right to his face, like you were talking about something as simple as the weather?

he tries to carefully pick his words, running through dozens of possibilities in his head, brain scrambling to say something, anything that’ll get you to leave him alone to wallow in his thoughts (…you think he’s pretty?) you wouldn’t really leave him alone if you left though, would you?

instead, he chooses to ignore you. head tilting down, one of his crossed arms coming up to tug the bill of his hat further down his face, shoulders slightly scrunching in. he feels like everything his body is doing is absolutely, incredibly, extremely obvious to you. his palms sweat uncomfortably and he’s so goddamn aware of your presence next to him, it’s driving him up the wall. he wishes he wasn’t so awkward, so scarred by all the loss in his life.

you don’t say anything, just turn your body and lean back against the mast with him. he briefly thinks his stonewalling worked.

“that’s okay.” you utter. there’s no rejection anxiety, no hurt in your voice. law’s shoulders and hidden scowl don’t relax, but he huffs out a hushed sigh. he stays quiet otherwise and waits a long minute before chancing a glance at you.

you’re leaned back against the mast, body language lax and open, although your arms are loosely crossed. your eyes are closed, skin sun-kissed. gentle sea breeze brushing across your clothes. you look warm, he thinks. he wishes you would reach out and touch him, but he also doesn’t 100% know if he’d like it. maybe he would.

law hates taking risks. he needs everything carefully planned out in his head before he makes a move, especially with the fruits of a thirteen year long effort coming to fruition in the next few days. he’s prepared to die kicking and screaming, fighting tooth and nail. he can’t fuck a single facet of his plan up.

then again, he’s dealing with the straw hat pirates here. a crew known for miracles. law steels his resolve and takes a calculated breath.

“someone i cared about a great deal didn’t like bread.”

the way you grin at him makes risking the olive branch worth it.

@ lawsfuckasshat 4.2.24

[prettyboykatsuki]

ITOSHI SISTER AND TRYING TO SNEAK ISAGI OUT? you are getting caught

sworn secrecy | i. yoichi.

✮ tags ; fem!reader(referred to as little sister but otherwise no gendered language), little sister itoshi (rin / sae are your big brothers), boyfriend!isagi, aged-up charas, use of honorfics for rin / sae (sae-nii / rin-nii), sneaking out, very silly. not nsfw but it's there implicitly

✮ wc ; 2k

✮ a/n ; have had bad writers block but this was a lot of fun.

✮ synopsis ; rin has made it very clear that isagi is strictly off-limits. you are not very good at listening.

It's a miracle you haven't died.

Isagi sits on the edge of your bed, wet hair and shirtless while watching Youtube videos while you stare outside of the window of your bedroom. Both of your brothers cars are still parked into the driveway.

You're screwed, actually. There's no hope for you anymore. You freeze as you hear footsteps in the hallway, shooting Isagi a look. He shrugs at you, a sly grin on his face. Unbothered and amused by the entire situation.

He's not going to be any help either it seems. You step away and crawl over to him in distress, throwing yourself into his lap. He drops his phone on side of the bed with a laugh, as you sit your knees on either side of his thighs.

His hand goes instantly to rest on the small of your back, knocking his forehead to yours. He has the audacity to giggle at you.

"Yoichi," You bemoan, clinging onto him for comfort even though he's most of the problem "How can you laugh in these conditions? Do you know how fucked I am?"

He gives you a wry grin "Well in a way,"

You hit him softly for the crass comment before clinging onto his shoulder. Isagi holds you comfortably, kissing whatever part of your shoulder you can reach. He traces little patterns into your skin, and you let yourself lean into the touch because you're unsure of when the next time will be if either of you happen to get caught.

"Yoichi," You whine again, frustrated and huffing "If Rin-nii catches me he's going to kill me."

He has the nerve to laugh.

"He'll be pissed but he's not gonna say anything to you. He's gonna kick my ass though."

"That's what I'm worried about, you dummy."

"Aw, you're worried about me? Hm? My baby is worried about me?"

Isagis coaxing helps soften your nerves even though it's not fixing the problem. You giggle quietly at the feeling of his lips on your neck and decide you're going to see him again at all costs.

It's a bad situation to be in. Surprisingly, while both of your older brothers are protective of you - Rin is the most strict about why you're not allowed to date his friends. Sae is a lot more lax about it, maybe because he's the oldest with the worst tendency of spoiling you. The only person he refuses to let you get involved with is Oliver and Shidou - but he doesn't particularly care about his other teammates if you're interested.

Rin, on the other hand, has been very verbal about you dating his teammates. A strict no on all of them, every last one - even the good and nice guys like gorilla-king Barou or Musclehead Kunigami. Chigiri is off-limits, Bachira is definitely off-limits, and the list goes on and on.

Of all of them though, Rin has a special disdain for the boy currently sitting half-naked in your bed after having sex with you the night before.

"If I ever catch that fucking freak looking at you, I'll kill him. You're not allowed to date Isagi ever."

When you were a little younger and it mattered to you more - you did try to stay away from them altogether. As the team went pro and Isagi came around more often to practice or bother Rin, the more difficult this ask became.

Isagi is two years older than you, and he's always been so nice to you. You'd only started speaking to him recently. He's attentive and charismatic, and awkward in an attractive way. All of that along with how he is when he plays - nauseatingly arrogant and cocky and so impossibly sexy made in impossible to stay away.

He wasn't always so tempting. But as of a few months ago, you couldn't take his eyes off him. So, at a party and away from your brothers view - you came onto him. He was even nice enough to try and stop you since he probably knew the outcome.

But your crush was only growing in size and you were determined to fuck him at least. So fuck him you did. You'd half been expecting your brothers gloom and doom to come true. You thought you'd wake up to an empty bed and no phone number - figure out why he'd always been so adamant on it.

Your bed was empty, but Isagi wasn't gone, he was making breakfast - grinning at you as you padded downstairs. You realized later that you'd be wiped down and changed sometime in the middle of the night. Turns out Isagi had his eyes on you for a long time, but per Rin's insanity decided not to approach. And now that you'd gone this far, he was determined to keep you.

Bridges burned, you started dating in secrecy. The only person who knows is Bachira. You kind of think Sae found out months ago, but chose not to let it slip. He just occasionally gives you knowing glances and tells you to be safe more often than not.

It's been 6-months and the two of you have been so careful. Isagi is mostly careful for your sake. He's told you more than once that he doesn't care who knows, even if it's Rin.

But you know your brother, and how fucking deranged he tends to be about stuff like this. So you've been sneaking around, doing home-dates or long-drives to avoid things that are too public and it's worked. You've been extra careful when you bring Isagi home - usually choosing to stay at his place.

Rin isn't supposed to be here. He went on a daytrip with his team for some photoshoot and was supposed to be home tomorrow. Sae was supposed to be in the gym. Now they're both at home, and Isagi is sitting in your bed while you're covered in hickies.

And you have not the slightest fucking idea how you're going to get him the hell out without being caught.

"I'm worried Rin-nii is going to fist-fight you." You say sincerely. Isagi laughs.

"I forgot he almost got into with Shidou. And Sae."

You sigh a deep sigh as Isagi rubs a circle into your back.

"I love you," You say with another frown.

"I love you too. Stop worrying so much. It'll be fine."

"You're only saying that because you don't know how much Rin lectured me about you specifically."

"Me specifically? Seriously? Am I that much of a villain to that guy?"

You laugh a little wetly "Yeah, kinda."

"Damn. Tough crowd.'

You both sit together in silence for a minute before sighing.

"Do you think I should enlist Sae-niis help?"

Isagi gives you a confused look. "I thought he didn't know?"

"I never told him but," You shrug sheepishly "Pretty sure he figured it out."

Isagi gives you a little kiss on the cheek "If you trust him, I trust him. We don't talk much but he seems cool to me."

You nod a little before grabbing your phone from next to Isagi - pulling back as you look for Sae's contact.

(sent 11:34am) : my beloved flesh and blood you know i love you with my whole heart yes.

from sae-nii (sent 11:34am) : how much money do you need? (sent 11:34 am) : no no its not that this time.

(sent 11:35 am) : uhm. isagi is in my room. and i need to sneak him out so rin doesn't see. help me. please please please. from sae-nii (sent 11:38 am) : ... you're such an idiot.

from sae-nii (sent 11:39am) : ill distract him. come down in 5 minutes exactly. and don't do this stupid shit again. im not helping you next time. (sent 11:40 am) : thank u i love you ur the best ever. favorite midfielder in the world.

You moan a sigh of relief as you drop your head onto Isagi's shoulder.

"Sae-nii is helping us. We're saved. Didn't even ask about anything."

"We'll have to make it up to him sometime." Isagi offers. You nod emphatically. You're sure he's going to interrogate you later but it won't be nearly as bad.

"We only have 5 minutes. I'll help you get your stuff."

"Thanks baby."

In 5 minutes, you help Isagi get dressed, pack of his stuff in the drawstring bag he brought with him, and give him a few kisses goodbye. You get a text at 11:44 on the dot saying Rin will be distracted for a little and to head down.

Your door creeks as you poke your head down, looking both ways before opening it completely and letting Isagi out. He does the same gesture as the two of you quietly make your down the stairs, Isagi's hand in yours as you trail behind him.

When you're finally downstairs, Sae is waiting at the end of the steps with a very unimpressed expression. You give him a look of gratitude, and he merely shakes his head. You're feeling especially lucky today.

Isagi comes all the way down and you stand next to him. Sae puts a hand on his shoulder and leans in.

"I called an Uber. It'll be waiting at the 7/11 on the corner..." A slight pause "Treat her well or I'll ruin your entire career."

Isagi swallows awkwardly.

"Y-yeah, of course."

Sae gives a satisfied nod before looking at you "I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah, got it. Thank you nii-san." You reply. He softens before shaking his head.

"Go say your goodbyes outside. The Uber will be there soon and he still has to walk down there."

You usher Isagi outside, mouthing one last thank you to your brother before gently shutting the door behind you. Finally at your front door, you get a good look at your boyfriend under the early morning sun.

You give him a long hug, squeezing him tight as the wind passes by. He returns to the gesture, smiling in a goofy way as he pulls away from you.

"Stop looking so sad, baby." He reaches for you, cupping your cheek in his palm as he rubs his thumb underneath your eyes "I'll see you again soon, yeah."

You nod. You really don't want to part with him. Strangely the whole fiasco is only making you feel more fond. You hum, then sigh - giggling a bit.

"Mm, okay. Thanks for being you. Sorry your in-laws are insane."

"In-laws? Oh, am I getting proposed to first? That won't do."

"Stop that, I'm kidding."

"I'm not," He says with a light laugh "Let me win the World Cup first once though." He pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your ring finger and feeling for the size. You flush.

"Stop being so romantic and go home."

He laughs a little again, kissing your hairline and temple before kissing you once on the lips.

"Message received. I'll text you. Love you. Bye baby."

"Bye,"

You part with one last kiss, watching as Isagi walks down the sidewalk and disappears around the corner without looking back. A wave of relief passes over you but you'd soon find out how short-lived the moment would truly be.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

from sae-nii ( sent 11:57 am) : i tried to keep him from going outside but he..

The message cuts off as a sense of dread fills your stomach. You turn around slowly only to see Rin at the window, fuming.

Oh, you're so absolutely screwed.

__

AFTERMATH.

Isagi slides into the Uber with a heavy sigh, before sliding his phone open. A flood of messages awaits him all from the same time. Some from you opening with an apology - more from Rin that are a variety of threats.

He starts laughing in the back of the Uber, barely able to contain himself.

from evil twin (sent 11:56 am) : im gonna fucking murder you.

from evil twin (sent 11:56 am) : i already told her. no you especially. im gonna fucking flay you as soon as i see you.

Isagi laughs as he types back a reply, shutting his phone after putting his airpods in and playing music.

sent 12:08 pm : looking forward to family dinner otouto

[nejjcollectsbooks]

bookish thrift store finds 7.may.24

> A Treasury of Scottish Verse compiled by Fleur Robertson - poetry, scottish lit. > The Book That Wouldn't Burn (book 1) by Mark Lawrence - high fantasy, books about books, sci-fi, dark academia. > The British: Myths and Legends by Maud Isabel Ebbutt - british lit, myths, folklore. > After the Forest by Kell Woods - fantasy, romance, hansel and gretel retelling. > Madam Bovary by Gustave Flaubert - classic lit, french lit, romance, historical fiction. > Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter by Simone de Beauvoir - autobiography, french lit, philosophy, classic lit. > Independant People by Halldor Laxness - classic lit, historical fiction, scandinavian lit. > Once Upon a Tome by Oliver Darkshire - memoir, books about books, humour, british lit. > Blossoms and Shadows by Lian Hearn - historical fiction, japanese lit, romance, fantasy, asian lit. > Circe by Madeline Miller - myth retelling, historical fiction, fantasy, geek mythology, romance. > The Mysterious Case of the Alperton Angels by Janet Hallett - murder mystery, crime fiction, thriller.

one of the best book hauls i've had in a long while ft. flower petals I've dried.

[lady0ctavia]

Hetalia Kiss Headcanons (2p!Allies)

Headcanons on how the 2p!Hetalia characters would kiss their S/O, as well as who I think would initiate your first kiss as a couple~

2p!America: Allen is very mischievous and cocky. With a similar "do or die" attitude to this 1p! counterpart, his kisses are more forceful and abrupt. The difference is that Allen will crash his lips onto yours with little regard to whether or not you're prepared. He'll even go out of his way to surprise you with a kiss on the lips, holding you tightly by the waist as he uses his tongue to beg for entrance. Kisses that are full of desire and lust. He just loves to see you shocked and breathless at the end. And when the two of you are alone, you can bet neck kisses are going to be a thing. Here's hoping you brought a scarf to cover up those love bites. If it wasn't already obvious, he'd be the one initiating a first kiss.

2p!England: Oliver's kisses are not only sweet in emotion and how they feel, but in taste as well. His lips taste like one of the many sugary sweets he whips up on a daily basis. Like cake batter and frosting with a possible hint of the metallic taste of blood. He gets positively giddy when you two kiss, and you can feel his lips curl into a smile upon yours. When he's in an especially good mood he'll take your face in his hands and pepper your face with kisses. When in public he might hold back a little, and I mean only a little. And I'd say it's 50/50 as to who initiates the first kiss. He may hold back to see if you're comfortable, but there's also the chance he'll get so carried away in his emotions that he'll just kiss you outright.

2p!France: François... Oh, François my beloved. This really depends on the nature of your relationship. If you're keeping it casual, his kisses would be more lustful and demanding, as if to say, "You. Me. Bed. Now." And he'd have no qualms about shoving his tongue down your throat. This is a guy who doesn't really believe in love and instead operates on lust when it comes to human intimacy. But if your relationship is more serious, his kisses would still be firm, but they'd be brief, with him still lingering over your lips, as if he's unsure how to navigate kisses fueled by genuine love. Whoever initiates the first kiss would depend entirely on his mood. If he's in a lustful haze, he'd initiate. But if he's just... Being his usual, depressed self, you'd have to initiate.

2p!Russia: Kissing? What even is kissing? Okay, so it's not like Viktor hasn't heard of kissing before, but it's probably one of the furthest things from his mind. So obviously you'd have to be the one to talk to him about it and even one day be the one to try and initiate that first kiss between you two. I feel like his lips feel very cold, almost like ice. At first, he'd find kissing to be a little uncomfortable, but he'd eventually warm up to the idea. But kisses would still be extremely rare. But when he does kiss you it will either be on the top of your head, forehead, or a chaste peck on the lips. Because of the rarity of the kisses, you know that if he's kissing you, it's because he truly does love you (that or he's dying, I dunno).

2p!China: Okay, I'm gonna be real here. Zao seems like a bit of a mixed bag to me. I feel like he'd be more affectionate than his 1p! counterpart, but not particularly in public. He'd give you a kiss on the cheek in public, but that's it. At home he's probably a bit more lax about affection, kissing you off and on throughout the day. Maybe being a little more flirty and silly when it comes to kissing, with his kisses making you smile while also feeling like your chest is on fire. And he'd be the one to initiate the first kiss. (I literally tried so hard here, but I just don't have a good feel for his character at all).

2p!Canada: James also my beloved. James isn't the best at showing how he feels, especially in the romance department. His kisses often end up being little pecks on the top of your head or forehead. He'd kiss your temple as well, but after a peck, he'll sort of linger there with an arm around your shoulders. Kisses on the lips are usually reserved for when the two of you are alone, mainly because he can be fairly reserved when it comes to affection. But dang those kisses fill you with a sense of love, security, and warmth like you've never felt before. And, if he's in the mood, the kisses can be a little more intense and forceful, but he wouldn't try and push you into anything you aren't comfortable with. As such, it would be on you to initiate that first kiss, as he's a little worried he may accidentally scare you off.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

To the Other Side

Spontaneous fic I decided to write because I want to witness Fellow and Rollo interact (outside of fan art) 💕 I took a lot of inspiration from The Other Side and The Greatest Show from the same musical, and this fan comic and this fan art.

There’s just something so fun about Fellow’s happy, playful vibes mingling with Rollo being deadly serious and hateful 😂

***SPOILER WARNING: Glorious Masquerade and Stage in Playful Land!!!***

Imagine this…

The nearby town was the only reprieve Rollo had from Night Raven College. Magic was school-sanctioned (in theory), but the rule did little to curb the spells fired off in spontaneous spats between classes, pranks, resolving minor inconveniences, and—this made his lip curl the most—for fun. He turned the other cheek in the presence of instructors, chided classmates when catching them in the act, and vented his anger in private.

Soon, he told himself. Soon, this loathsome school exchange program would be over, and Night Raven College put behind him. But one man can only take so much sin before his patience threatened to give, irritation spilling over his carefully constructed walls.

Out here, a bus ride away from campus, he was free from those vile villains, however fleeting it was. The air cleaner, his mind clearer, as he breathed in the salt-kissed, balmy air. Waves lapping against the pier, the town’s comfortable hum as time rolled by, a soothing song.

He looked out at the waters, blue tipped with the white of sunshine dappling a painting. It was alive, yet at peace with the world. Knew its place.

Rollo's eyes drift shut, and he allowed the sea to envelop him. Quiet, calming, completely—

“Oya? Oya oya oyaaaaa?"

An exaggerated drawl invaded his ears. It was an unfamiliar man’s voice, slick with overly honeyed friendliness.

“You there, sir!” he called out. “Might I have a moment of your time?”

Ignore him, Rollo coached himself. He is not referring to you. There are many people in the town he could be accosting.

The crack of a clap on his shoulder suggested otherwise.

Rollo’s tranquility splintered and shattered, like glass dropped. His eyes snapped open again, alert and irritated.

A man had emerged on his left, and a small boy on his right. They stood too close for comfort, and seemed to be leering at him. From up, from down, encasing him in a web of excited stares.

The man had ginger hair in a widow's peak, the rest swept aside to make way for sharp eyes. His suit was fine at a glance, olive vest and neat cravat, violet coat with golden details and tassels cinched over it—but upon closer inspection, there was a hole in the pinkie finger of his long white gloves, and a miscellaneous diamond patchwork of patterns running down his trousers.

Something about him screamed “showman". Perhaps it was the jaunty half cape that hung off his left shoulder or the knee-high spats over shoes that clicked loudly, calling attention to him, with each step. Maybe it was the sparkle-studded top hat upon his head, nestled between two twitching ears, or the cheery flicker of his bushy tail, or the cane in hand, topped with a golden fox. (... Rollo suspected it was his boldness, the sheer audacity to insert himself where he wasn’t needed.)

The boy with the showman was a cat beastman, shorter and disposition shyer. His hair was a red-brown rat's nest even clamped under a smaller, brightly colored top hat, his fur just as unkempt. The only thing that seemed to fit on his slight frame is a lilac shirt and a small bow tie. His mustard yellow jacket looked as though it has had its body sheared in half, then the fabric stuck back onto the oversized sleeves, the pants attached to his overalls saggy and patched up with the wrong patterns. Even his boots were wrong—untied—and socks mismatched.

He blinked at Rollo through eyes that sloped downward, his expression lax. His mouth was steady beneath a spray of dark freckles. The boy held onto a comedically large hammer, hands still trapped in his enormous sleeves as he gripped its handle.

Suspicious, Rollo concluded. They are highly suspicious individuals.

“… May I help you?” he asked, not out of kindness but as a courtesy.

“Ohoh!!” The man grinned broadly. “That composed stride! That stern, solitary gaze! Those extravagant robes! So sensible, so conventional. There’s no doubt in my mind! You, my good man, must hail from THE Noble Bell College!”

Rollo’s mouth was quickly forming a frown. A fan of flattery he was not. "What of it?”

The stranger chuckled, the coy hand on Rollo's shoulder not budging. The warmth of it made his skin crawl in spite of the layers of fabric separating them. "You've come a long way from the Shaftlands then! Tell me, how do you find Sage's Island? Is it everything you’ve dreamed it to be—or, dare I say, more?”

“I was beginning to enjoy it, right up until you and your companion happened upon me,” Rollo grumbled, jerking his shoulder away from the stranger’s touch. “I do not have many opportunities to steal away into town.”

“You have my humblest of apologies!” The man bowed deeply. It took a few seconds of lag, but the boy clumsily followed suit. “Gidel and I, we’re the curious sort, you see! We come across many wary souls on our own travels, and we want to get to know them. Isn’t that right, Giddie?”

Gidel nodded eagerly.

The fox beastman stuck out a hand, taking Rollo’s before he was given the chance to reciprocate or decline. He shook firmly, with enough strength to rattle around Rollo’s bones. “Fellow Honest’s the name! And you, my esteemed gentleman?”

“Rollo Flamme.” His reply was curt, intended to cut the conversation short with its bluntness. He tried to sidestep the man, but failed as Fellow slid to block him.

“Rollo—may I call you that? Great, greeat!!” he gushed, again not pausing for a “no” to potentially slip in. “From just a glance, I can tell you’re an upstanding, diligent student. You’ve been hitting the books so hard, you’ve barely gotten in a wink of sleep!”

Rollo’s mouth pinched. It was not an uncommon comment for him to hear, but he wasn’t the least bit delighted to have it spun as a compliment either.

“You poor, poor boy! You must be a nervous wreck!” Fellow sighed, sympathetically stroking the back of one of Rollo’s hands with his own. The student shuddered and pulled away with a slight glare. Rather than taking note of the displeasure, Fellow brightened, snapping his fingers. “That’s it! You are a nervous wreck!! We must diagnose this case at once.”

To Rollo’s bewilderment, Fellow produced a pair of spectacles from his breast pocket and slipped them onto his face. Gidel whipped out a notebook and a pencil from his overalls, poised to take notes.

“Let’s have a look at you!”

Fellow circled the dazed Rollo, poking and prodding at the boy’s lean frame with the butt of his cane. It bit into his ribs, his cheek, his thighs, as Fellow rattled off nonsensical phrases, Gidel reverently scrawling them down. Rollo swatted at the fox as if dispelling a pesky bug—but Fellow was too fast, too slippery, to land a clean hit on.

He at last stepped back, snatching up the notes from Gidel. (Rollo caught a brief glimpse of the writing—it was nothing close to what could pass as language.)

Fellow raked a hand through his hair as he seriously took in the report of scribbles. With each passing second, his features increasingly crinkled with concern. "Oh me, oh my, oh dear!! Alas, it's just as I suspected!"

"... What?"

The glasses and the notepad were promptly discarded. Props made meaningless now that their purpose was fulfilled.

Fellow snaked an arm around Rollo. Firmer this time, not something to be shaken off. "You, my boy, are allergic! To this drudgery! This cage, these walls!" He wildly gestured with his cane to their surroundings. "This life you're trapped in! You're stressed, depressed, mad, sad, miserable, all of the above!"

Each adjective thrown out drew Rollo's brows closer and closer together until there was no hiding his grimace. “I do not appreciate the unwarranted judgments being made of my character.”

"You see! My hunch was right!" Fellow flicked at a corner of Rollo's frown. It deepened. "There's only one cure for what you have: a vacation! And luckily for you, I have exactly what you need right here…!”

Reaching into his sleeve, Fellow retrieved a single ticket, sandwiched between two lithe fingers. The sepia image of an amusement park wreathed in flags was frames in crimson, blue, and gold. Admit One, trumpeted the ticket, to Playful Land.

“It just so happens that I, Fellow-sama, am the manager to the fabled amusement park of wonder, hopes, and dreams... Playful Land! Have you heard of it? It's a magical place with a plethora of rides, games, song and dance! Why, there's even a big stage where any member of the audience can be a rising star! The food, all free and ample!! You can gorge yourself on fun!! Doesn't that sound like a swell dream?"

Rollo deadpanned. "If by 'dream', you mean dreadful. To encourage casting aside one's inhibitions to indulge in all manner of vices... Your establishment is no paradise. It is a den of depravity, hell masquerading as heaven.”

"Eh?"

The strong hostility seemed to throw Fellow for a loop, gave him pause. He fumbled for a moment before finding his words again.

"My, my! Your allergies are worse than I thought...! Every kid needs to kick back one in a while, and you most of all! Since we're such good friends now, I would be more than happy to gift this prized ticket, good only for tomorrow, to you free of charge!" He winked, giving a theatrical twirl of his cane. Stars and sparkles exuded out from it. A small charm, a harmless trick. "No need to thank me!"

Rollo's eyes flashed, instant recognition setting him on edge. Similar items infested the City of Flowers every Topsy Turvy Day—enchanted handkerchiefs, tambourines infused with meager magic.

Disgust roiled through him.

"We have no such friendship," Rollo snippily corrected him. Is this man delusional? "Furthermore, tomorrow is a school day. It wouldn't do to miss it in favor of gallivanting."

“Now, now, I insist!!” Fellow pressed. “Please accept this ticket and take a load off, enjoy yourself. Live a little, laugh a little! The last thing I would want is for you to miss out on this once in a lifetime opportunity!! Skipping a single day of school wouldn't be too harmful for a star-studded scholar like yourself."

His gaze flicked to Gidel. The two shared a keen glint, a subtle signal, then broke out into a show, a flurry of tap dancing along the pier.

"Trade in your typical for somethin' magical!” Fellow cried with the tip of his top hat. “Where it’s covered in all the colored lights!! Where the runaways are runnin’ the night!”

Gidel fished out a party popper from under his own headwear. When he tugged on its string, crackles filled the air, the popper letting loose a shower of glittering particles. Fellow belted out a hearty laugh, swinging his cane to catch confetti.

"Come on to the theater!!” he urged—mostly likely reciting some park motto, Rollo ventured. “In Playful Land... Life is Fun!!"

Fellow struck a pose with his arms thrust out, punctuating the performance. Gidel was less dexterous, and settled for an awkward approximation of the same pose.

Expectant for applause.

“… Charming display,” Rollo remarked dryly. He picked out a limp streamer from his hair. With a huff, he blew the remaining confetti off of him. “However, only a blithering fool would accept such a dubious offer. Is that what you take me for, Mr. Honest? A blithering fool?”

Fellow recoiled, his ears flattening, and his bravado faltering. Gidel glanced at the older man, soulful eyes full of worry.

"You must have fantasized about a day off before! Don't you want to get away and forget about your work and worries? Don’t you crave freedom?”

"No."

"What of the desire to chase thrills? To see and to experience what few others have before, or to relive a childhood you've perhaps never had? Don't you want to cut loose? Go crazy? Party all day?"

"Never."

"How about stardom? Play a different role? Have you a longing to stand upon a grand stage, hundreds of thousands of adoring fans applauding your passionate performances?"

"Not once."

His patience wore thin like a braided rope down to its final connecting threads. Rollo tapped a finger against his folded arms. "Are you finished? I tire of my precious time being wasted. If you will kindly excuse me."

He turned back toward the town. Rollo was a few steps along a shop-lined street when, suddenly, the odd duo reappeared. They skidded to a panting stop before Rollo, walling off his path. Well, more Fellow than Gidel.

A look of annoyance ripped across the fox’s face. “HOLD ON!! What kind of person plays hard to get and then walks away from a conversation like that?! Would it kill you to stop and just listen to me, you bra…”

Fellow petered off midsentence and backpedaled, smoothing out his spite into a smile. "...aaave soul! I've yet to meet someone as assertive and as self-assured as you are.” He reached out and brushed off an invisible fleck of dust from Rollo’s robes. Simpering. “You're a man that knows exactly what he wants!”

Rollo bristled. He hadn't missed the sudden shift in his chummy behavior. All the more reason to suspect them. They’re very clearly up to something.

"Yes, yes, I can see it now!" Fellow continued, stroking his chin in contemplation. "What you seek is not amusement! You’re longing—no, aching—for something far greater, more ambitious!"

He leaned into Rollo's ear, cupping a hand to it. Gidel came from the other side, staring up curiously. Fellow’s voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Power, perhaps? The magical kind, even.”

Rollo visibly stiffened.

“Oh, have I got your attention?” The curve of Fellow’s mouth cocked, going crooked. A triumphant smirk. “You’re interested, I know it! Buried in those bones of yours, there's an ache, a thirst, for knowledge that you can't ignore!"

The fox wiggled a finger, his words rapt with wonder. “Playful Land is the product of maaany wise and talented mages! If you pay us a visit, you might be able to learn a thing or two from observing how we run the show. It's a valuable learning opportunity for a student of an arcane academy! How about it, kid? This surely is a deal you wouldn't want to pass up!!"

There was no indication of any feeling in Rollo's face. His eyes had glazed over, as though haunted, a veil shrouding his vision. He stared at Fellow as though he were a distant phantom.

Spin, spin. Fellow's cane did a little dance of its own. "Think of it: the fire, the freedom, the flood of magic. Blinding and outshining anything that you could know!"

Fire.

Rollo blinked. The veil lifted, and the man was rudely roused from an awake slumber. Neutrality replaced with a kindling emotion, sparse embers that did not yet know they would converge into flames. "... What did you say?"

"Everything you could ever want. Everything you could ever need," Fellow tapped the waiting ticket, "is here right in front of you. This is where dreams are made, where the impossible comes true: Playful Land. This is where you want to be—"

The fire flared, bile rising from his throat. Beneath his skin, blood came to a rapid boil. Hot, screeching, an intense fever pitch. The heat like a knife slashing through strings.

Hands lashed out, fervently seizing Fellow's arms. Rollo clutched onto him, a desperate parishioner to a priest preaching at the pulpit. But there was no such blind devotion in his expression, only something wild, untamable, twisted.

“What did you say?!” Rollo hissed, low and dangerous. Threatening.

Gidel jumped and skittered behind Fellow, hiding himself from view. The fox's hand found its way to Gidel's back to support the trembling boy.

"You've been mouthing off for quite some time, and I've been far more patient than you deserve." Rollo cut to the mustard yellow sleeve clinging to Fellow's leg. "You have a child with you. Refrain from spouting such ridiculous vulgarities in front of them.”

“Wh-What…!!”

“Is this the game you play?” Rollo’s grip tightened. Voice hoarse, a pained shudder threading through it. “Tempting children with the promise of whimsy and fun, encouraging them to be intoxicated by magic...!"

While you stand by, doing nothing.

An untimely demise by magic, a fate he knew all too well.

Consumed alive in a hellish inferno. Only a curtain of smoke and ash remaining. Slipping through his grasp when he was standing right there.

Brother...

Hot tears stung his eyes—but they dissipated near instantaneously, staved off by his burning fury. Anger and upset rapidly overtaking him.

Not again. He would not stand for it to happen, would not surrender. This, he swore, with a resolute breath, and cried out with all of his seething soul.

"Hmph! I thought you witless before, but it seems you are not a clown," Rollo spat. "You are the entire circus."

Fellow gave a light, cumbrous chuckle—but his eyes narrowed. Gone was his cheer, his merrymaking. What remained was serious, astute. "... Hey now, that's a scary face you're making. Is this really how you want to spend your days? Let's lighten up a little."

A bitter scoff sounded.

“Continue this farce, and I will not stop at raking you across the coals," Rollo warned darkly. Fire licked his fingertips, close to bursting free. "I will show you just how scary I can be. The righteous flames of judgment are cleansing. They will purge all sin, reducing the wicked to mere specks of ash."

He released Fellow with a slight shove. The older man fell back a few steps, finding his balance again when Gidel pushed him upright with a silent grunt.

“If you understand, then I will be on my way. Good day to you.”

With the path cleared, Rollo stormed right by them. Robes billowing in a passing sea breeze and austere face to the town, he almost looked the part of a hero emerging triumphant from battle.

Back to his everyday life, the same side as always.

Fellow gaped after the boy’s retreating figure. At the prey slipping away from every carefully placed trap he and Gidel had laid out for him.

"Well, I never...!!" he groused. A fresh, foul mood ripe like a rain cloud over his head, Fellow discarded his smile for a sneer. "HIIIIIIE~ What was up with that arrogant brat?!”

Gidel shrugged, his comedically large sleeves flopping as he threw his hands up.

"Damn it!!" The curse was out before Fellow could cut it off. "Next time I see that guy, I'll teach him a lesson for looking down on us!"

He angrily kicked at a soda can on the ground—abandoned by a wayward townsperson. With a CRUNCH, the can launched into a nearby lamp post, ricocheting off its base and bouncing back. The can connected with Fellow's kneecap. He yelped and seized his injury, trying to contain the pain.

Eyes blown open in alarm, Gidel rushed to him. The boy was waved off, Fellow's whimpers eventually dying down.

"My sulking worried you? … You're seriously too good for this cruddy world, Gidel," Fellow muttered, shaking his head. He ruffled the cat beastman’s mane of hair, the roughness of it grazing the unguarded pinkie poking out from his one damaged glove. "Never change, got that?“

Gidel bobbed up and down in agreement.

“Good.” Fellow drew himself up and adjusted his jacket. “Tch. Kids these days sure are spoiled rotten. You promise them the world and they still blow you off."

His thoughts settled on the boy from before. The remarks they had traded, the resistance the target had put up.

I thought a bit of magic would help loosen the kid up—but Life is Fun didn’t work on him, Fellow mused. I cast it so many times too. Between my magic and charisma, they usually cave so easily.

Yet Rollo had regarded him like a man possessed, had regarded him with such hatred. The mad, tormented look in his face. An iron barrier against the fluttery, champagne laced lull of his spell.

"... Must be somethin' wrong with him," Fellow concluded. All kinds of fucked up in the head and in the heart. "Yup, that's gotta be it! This Fellow-sama's way too cool to be outdone by any old student.”

Again, Gidel nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s alright, there’s bound to be flops! We’ll have to pick out our next mark much more cautiously.” Fellow shaded his eyes and squinted. “Let’s see…"

Gidel trailed after his gaze. Combing through a crowd for easy pickings was child’s play for Fellow, but the young boy struggled to hone in on the monotony of minute details. Little nervous tics and hesitations, chinks in armor to exploit. They were present, but Gidel’s eyes were like a broken camera. Zooming in, then out, blurring, never able to fully focus.

His attention strayed, slowly meandering back back to the piers. The sea was a simple thing compared to the town—natural, unrestrained. So easy to understand.

“Maybe that one… no, no, that would never work,” Fellow mumbles to himself. “They’re in too large of a group to comfortably break through. The girl over there? Tsk, the parents are hovering, can’t risk that…”

His eyes ran along the bustling town and along the docks. Like fingers along book spines or piano keys, a quick, light caress. Effortless.

Then he came to a full stop.

Did a double take.

And stared.

Hard.

There, lazily parked by the piers, was a small gang of boys, each dressed in the same smart black blazer and trousers, vests and armbands an assortment of colors. Tucked into their breast pockets were fountain pens topped off with magestones. Their style, those emblems, famous.

Fellow smacked Gidel’s back, snapping the boy to attention.

“Look alive, Giddie! You see that?” He pointed with his cane. “Those uniforms are…!”

His face lit up with understanding. Mouth ajar, eyes wide, brows raised.

“We’re in luck today!” Fellow snickered. He tugged on Gidel’s sleeve, yanking the youth to him. “Hurry, let’s get in front of them! We’ll cut them off, pretend as though we’ve bumped into them by accident. Then, we pounce…!!”

Gidel lifted his hammer—a cheer.

The duo scampered down the street, hearts drumming in their chests and adrenaline pumping. In that moment, they brimmed with all the hope and the excitement that Rollo had failed to exhibit. They were children racing to a dream destination, fools wishing upon stars.

Elsewhere in the town, someone sneezed.

Rollo pressed his handkerchief to his nose, retreating further into his robes. “… The weather suddenly took a turn for the worse. What an ominous omen.”