#something… anyways ! isn’t that so cool !

[silentheiss]

When Shen Yuan transmigrates in his definitely-not-favorite novel, he’s ecstatic. Sure, dying sucked, but he got a second chance! In a body that looked exactly like his, only healthy and with a perfectly good golden core, too!

He’s a rouge cultivator now, with a cool sword, enough money, long-ass hair and zero actual responsibilities!

So, all in all, Shen Yuan hit a jackpot. He travels, makes notes of monsters he sees and sometimes fights, collects rare herbs and flowers and feels just great.

He feels decidedly less great, when after defeating a Six Eyed Spider Viper in some nameless, remote village, he receives a bride as a payment. It shockes him into a stupor for long enough for the villagers to think he actually agreed, so as soon as he can talk again, he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind:

“This one is already married!”

It doesn’t work as well as he hoped.

“So Nie Rong can be a second wife.” An auntie, possibly Nie Rong’s mother, waves her hand dismissively at him.

“No, no,” Shen Yuan scrambles. “This one wasn’t being clear enough. This one is not in position to take wives! He is- is, uh.”

“Master is a wife?” Nie Rong chrips, her cheeks reddened.

“Uh. Sure. Yeah.” Shen Yuan would like to leave the village immediately. A thrill of defeating a cool fucking monster wasn’t even worth the embarrassment!

“Master’s husband must be quite powerful to get such a cultivator as a wife.” One of the villagers says, eyes glinting with suspicion. “Who’s he?”

“This one’s husband is indeed very powerful.” Shen Yuan squeezes out of himself, taking a step back. “Very possessive, too.”

“How come he lets his husband travel so far?”

“Oh! It’s easy, really. This one’s husband’s harem is big enough to slip away for a week or two!”

An agitated murmur passes through the small crowd. Shen Yuan sighs, feeling the control of the situation slipping through his fingers.

“He doesn’t sound like a very good husband.” One of the aunties says. “Maybe you should divorce him and marry our Rong-er after all.”

“This one’s husband is not someone one just divorces.” Shen Yuan takes another step back. “Thanking everyone for kind words, but-"

“Oh.” Nie Rong says, eyes downcast. “It’s the Emperor, isn’t it? That’s why Daozhang can’t leave?”

“Yes!” Shen Yuan yelps before he can really think. “So you can see how the situation is difficult for this one.”

It’s a shit solution to a problem. Might be the worst, actually. But then again, Luo Binghe would never know and Shen Yuan gets a perfect excuse if something similar ever happens again.

And it does happen. Quite too often, if Shen Yuan is honest — shouldn’t all the girls belong to the protagonist anyway?!

So, Shen Yuan uses his perfect excuse: No, he cannot marry your pretty little daughter, he’s an Emperor Luo’s husband. And: No, fellow rouge cultivator, he will not share your bed, he’s spoken for!

Everything works without a hitch, until one day Shen Yuan walks into an inn where he’s been staying for last couple of days and comes face to face with the Emperor of Combined Realms, Lord Luo himself.

Shit.

[crazyvik97rpg]

Sebastian was in very good mood this morning – he still had his pain med IVs and all of that but the fact that he was allowed to leave the bed was leaving him all excited. Shortly after breakfast William arrived too then, which made him even happier. He smiled all over and grabbed his hand right away.

„Hey love…good morning, I‘m good…I‘m great actually. I just asked the nurses…we need to bring a wheelchair with us but other than that I can actually leave the bed today. Isn’t that cool?“, he grinned all over and squeezed William’s hand excitedly, „So yes…I‘m very excited. I‘m done with breakfast so…we can actually go right away, yes? I think I‘ll just need to put on my morning robe and some socks… I cannot wait to get out of this bed already…“

Needless to say, Sebastian was quite energetic. He felt better this morning, a lot of factors played a role here of course. Truth be told, when he slowly sat up, his legs dangling down the bed, it really felt weird. He still didn’t feel at 100% yet. William was sweet though, as always – he helped him with the socks and brought him his morning robe. The drainage dangling on his side was still weird, though. Something to get used to anyway.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[dissapointu]

hi!! may you do how arcane characters would react to their partner who is a famous model?

OMG YESSSS,

Jinx

“Wait, so, like… everyone stares at you for a living?” She’s jealous, obviously. But also super proud. She’ll crash your photo shoots, swinging from the rafters yelling, “THAT’S MY GIRL! LOOK AT HER FACE! LOOK AT IT!!!”

Also, don’t be surprised if she “borrows” some of your outfits and makes her own chaotic Jinx remix versions.

Vi

At first, Vi’s like, “Cool, you’re a model, whatever.” Then she sees you in one of your campaigns—posing in some ridiculously hot outfit—and she’s just like, “DAMN, THAT’S MINE?!” She’ll play it off with cocky comments like, “Guess I have to fight everyone now since they’re all looking at you.” But secretly, she’s your biggest fan and has your pictures saved on her Hextech phone.

Sevika

She’s unimpressed at first. “Modeling, huh? That’s nice.” But the moment she sees you walking a runway, her drink almost falls out of her hand. After that, she’s in full bodyguard mode, standing at your side looking scary AF whenever you’re in public.

“Let them look. But if anyone touches, they’re losing a hand,” she mutters while adjusting her mechanical arm.

Silco

He’s the type to be quietly supportive, but deep down, he loves that everyone’s obsessed with you. During arguments, he’ll smirk and say, “Funny, isn’t it? The most desired person in the world is sitting here arguing with me.”

He’ll pay for entire ad campaigns just to see your face plastered across Zaun. “It’s business,” he claims, but he’s just a simp.

Vander

Vander’s a little confused at first. “So… people pay you to stand around and look nice?” But when he sees you working, he’s like, “Oh, I get it now.” He’s so proud it’s borderline embarrassing, constantly bragging about you to his bar patrons.

“That’s my girl,” he says with a soft smile every time your picture pops up. Ugh, sweet dad energy.

Ekko

Ekko’s OBSESSED. “You’re a model and my partner? Talk about hitting the jackpot!” He’ll build you custom gadgets to make your life easier, like portable fans for shoots or little mirrors in your jewelry.

Also, he’ll 100% steal your sunglasses and walk around like he’s in a photo shoot himself, striking dumb poses and saying, “I learned it from the best.”

Jayce

Jayce is over the moon. “My partner is a model? Hell yeah!” He’ll take every chance to hype you up to literally everyone. “Did you see her latest campaign? She’s stunning, right?!”

But he’s also low-key insecure sometimes, like, “What do you see in me? I’m just a nerd with a hammer.” You’ll have to remind him that he’s hot, too.

Viktor

Viktor is quietly amazed. He’ll act like it’s no big deal, but you catch him staring at your magazine spreads for way too long. “The lighting is impressive,” he’ll mutter, pretending it’s all about the photography.

He’s secretly in awe of how confident you are. On bad days, he’ll say, “You know, you’re too good for me, but I’m selfish, so I’m keeping you anyway.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s the ultimate supportive girlfriend. She’s at every runway show, clapping politely but beaming with pride. Afterward, she’ll wrap you in her arms and say, “You looked breathtaking out there.”

Also, she’s so classy that she’ll casually mention your career to people like it’s no big deal, but inside she’s like, “Yeah, that’s MY girl, and she’s flawless.”

Mel Medarda

Mel is completely unfazed. “Of course, you’re a model. I wouldn’t settle for anything less.” She’ll attend your events in couture outfits that match yours, turning the whole thing into a power couple moment.

She’ll also help you navigate the industry with ruthless efficiency. “Darling, fire your agent. I’ll find someone better.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is low-key smug about it. “You’re the most beautiful person in the room, and I get to take you home? Lucky me.” She’ll escort you to every event like a queen guarding her treasure, daring anyone to look too long.

She’s also the type to say something wildly inappropriate, like, “I could rip that dress off you right now,” while you’re on the red carpet.

Cecil B. Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger doesn’t really get modeling, but he supports you nonetheless. “Fascinating! Humans are drawn to symmetry and aesthetics, it seems.” He’s full of technical compliments like, “The angle of your posture was impeccable in that last shoot.”

Also, he’ll make you a tiny model of one of your outfits because he’s precious like that.

Salo

Salo acts like he doesn’t care, but he’s secretly super proud. “You’re a model? Huh. I guess that explains the constant photographers.” He’ll act like it’s no big deal, but he’s staring at your campaign posters like a lovesick puppy when no one’s watching.

Scar

Scar is SO hyped about it. “You’re a model? That’s badass!” She’ll hype you up every chance she gets, like, “Look at you, absolutely killing it!”

Also, she’ll definitely try to jump into your photo shoots, striking silly poses until someone kicks her out.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is obsessed with you and not subtle about it. “I knew I was dating a goddess, but damn!” She’ll brag about you to literally everyone and start casually slipping into conversations like, “Oh, yeah, my partner? A literal supermodel.”

She’ll also steal your wardrobe for herself. “What? You look good in it, and so do I!”

Lest

Lest is super supportive in a quiet way. She'll attend your shows, sitting in the back with a soft smile, just proud of you. Afterward, she’ll hand you a little flower she picked on the way and say, “You were wonderful.”

She doesn’t fully understand the fashion world, but she thinks you’re amazing and tells you so every chance he gets.

TL;DR: Everyone is absolutely floored by your beauty. They’re either simping, bragging, or plotting to fight anyone who gets too close. You’re the it girl of their world.

[marriiemeii]

little hands

genre: fluff, playful banter, butterflies (digest them), drabble, unviersity au, one mention of mingyu, skewed perceptions of height, reader is 5'4 but you can make them any height tbh, reader hate bugs

“so are you actually afraid of bugs?” wonwoo asked from across the table.

“i don’t like bugs that are big or creepy looking. there’s a difference,” you told him.

the two of you were eating in your guys’ university cafeteria, waiting for time to pass before you head over to your next class. you both weren’t necessarily friends but you had a lot of classes together and you had mutual friends. because of this, the two of you started getting to know each other since you saw each other everyday.

“but those are the best kind,” he says. you look at him with your nose scrunched in disgust.

“oh, are you the type that likes bugs?” you ask him, wondering if he was offended by your blatant dislike for insects.

“i mean, i don’t like them but they’re cool, i guess,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“well big bugs are gross, there was literally a spider as big as my hand and i couldn’t even look at it after the first time,” you shiver from your memory. he smiles at you finding your dislike for bugs amusing.

“you probably have little hands anyways,” he dismisses your experience. you look at him in shock.

“excuse me? i like to think i have average sized hands,” you argued, looking slightly offended at your attacker.

“yeah, for a girl,” he chuckles. your eyes narrow at him.

“your hands shouldn’t even be much bigger than mine,” you retort. “aren’t you only a little taller than me?”

he looks at you as if you had grown another head. “how tall are you?”

“5’4, what about you?” you ask him confused.

“6 feet.”

“you’re lyingg,” you accused him. he looks at you in shock.

“i swear,” he promises. you stare at him as you look from his eyes to the top of his head.

“you look like you’d be 5’8 or something,” you say. “proof or i won’t believe you.”

“i am not that short and what proof?” he asks.

“bring a tape measure.”

“who brings a tape measure to school?” he complains, offended that you thought he was that short.

“5’8 isn’t even short. isn’t that the average male height?” you argue. he sighed with disgruntled look on his face. “also, you would bring a tape measure if you wanted to prove your TRUE height. i need proof or else you’ll forever be 5’8 in my mind.”

“i actually hate that.”

“sounds like a personal problem?” you shrugged off his troubles.

“you’re a punk.”

he continues to stare at you with a blank look on his face. you look away from the unconscious staring match. you look back over to him when you hear him get up.

“what do you think 6 feet looks like?” he asks, standing at his full height. even as you looked at him now he didn’t really seem that tall, especially compared to your mutual friend, mingyu.

you get up from your seat on your side of the table and hold your hand up about 8ish inches above your head.

”i feel like if you were 6 feet i would need to tilt my head to look at you.” you tell him. he continues to stare at you. “and look i’m not tilting my head, am i?”

he stays quiet, before walking over to your side of the table. as he got closer you noticed the top of his head actually was reaching where you had put your hand. he stopped right before your hand, which was held just a little bit in front of you. your hand almost brushing against his fluffy hair that was tousled from the wind and him brushing his hand through his hair so much.

there were three things you realized at this point.

1. he actually could be 6 feet and your perception of 6 feet was, more likely than not, skewed.

2. he was really close to you.

3. he was REALLY close to your face.

out of the whole time you knew him for this semester, this was the closest you two have ever been. it definitely made you feel butterflies in your stomach from the proximity. it doesn’t help that your playful banter has been happening more.

“seems like i am 6 feet based off what you think 6 feet looks like,” he smiles at you. you snap out of the trance you were in and pout at him.

“fine, i guess you are 6 feet, probably,” you accepted your defeat. you were happy that he didn’t take notice of you zoning out. “that probably means i do have little hands then.”

“that’s fine, you have nice little hands,” he states nonchalantly.

[starly-amazing]

In Baths and Salts: Stinkfrin Gets Cleansed

Rating: Teen

Summary: Siffrin is a stinky fella after the loops. Isabeau and Mirabelle take it upon themselves to give them a nice relaxing bath and some much-needed pampering. Emotions and minimal crying are to be expected. Happy 1st Anniversary ISAT!

Tags: Bathing/Washing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Queerplatonic Relationships, Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst

archiveofourown org/works/60726061

--- --- ---

"Siffrin, you smell terrible." Odile sighs as soon as the party makes it back inside the clock tower. The festivities outside were set to go on well into the night, but none of the Saviors had any desire to mingle—or be showered in praise, food, gifts, or marriage proposals.

Isabeau gasps as if personally insulted. "M’dame!? That’s so blunt!" He grips Siffrin tighter as he helps them to the dining table.

They flop over in their chair and let out a harsh wheeze. They don't even try to argue.

She lowers her glasses and raises an eyebrow. "So we’re in agreement, then?" Her arms fold over her chest.

"Well... " He rubs his shoulder. He sniffs his shirt where Siffrin had been leaning and makes a face.

“I’m in an an-greement!” Bonnie yells and fans the air in front of their face. “Belle too!”

“What!?” Mirabelle sputters in the middle of wiping a spot of Siffrin’s blood off her dress. “Bonnie, why are you bringing me into this?”

"Bath sounds nice," Siffrin mumbles into their cloak. The clock tower surprisingly had a full washroom with plumbing. They couldn't imagine why, but they're not about to complain. The bathtub, complete with a crafted heating element, had tempted them so many times during the loops, but they could never justify using it.

But now... 

They're still not sure they can justify it but maybe they should just say ‘blind it all’ and do it anyway.

“Yes, see? Siffrin didn’t need any convincing!”

Though, it seems like their family isn’t going to give them much choice either way.

Odile smirks and tilts her head at Mirabelle.

“Don’t say it!”

“Hey, hey, don’t bully poor Sif! What they need right now is some nice gentle reassurance!”

“And a bath!” Bonnie adds. They start putting away the plates of food that grateful villagers and Housemaidens managed to laden them all with.

“Yep,” Siffrin mumbles, too tired to be phased.

"I'll get it ready!" Isabeau chirps and heads to the washroom.

Odile doesn't even try to hide The Smirk.

Siffrin puts his head down and closes his eye. He breathes deeply a few times and lets the sounds of his family wash over him. Odile is scribbling more in her notebook. Bonnie is messing with the food and gifts. Mirabelle is rummaging through her bags.

"How are you feeling now, Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks after a few moments.

"Gross." They rub at a bloodstain on their cloak.

"Good thing that's going to be remedied soon," Odile hums. She scribbles something down in her notebook. “Teasing aside, is there anything you need—or want us to do for you now? It doesn’t have to be big if you’re not yet comfortable asking, just something that might help you feel more at ease.”

Siffrin eyes the bottle of gifted wine by the sink.

Odile follows their gaze and shakes her head. “Anything but that. We’re not going to let you pick up any new self-destructive habits.”

Siffrin grunts. “Water then, please.”

“I got it!” Bonnie races to the sink and fills a glass in record time. They rush back to Siffrin and nearly spill it onto them.

“A good snack duty-er also includes hydreeshon!”

“Hydration, Boniface.”

“That’s what I said!”

Siffrin cracks a small smile and takes a sip. The cool water is a shock to his parched throat but after the initial tingle fades he downs the rest in a few gulps.

“Wow! Super fast!” Bonnie grabs the cup and runs back to the sink. “Want more?”

Isabeau calls out from the bathroom. “Okay, I think it’s about ready!”

“I’m fine, thank you Bonbon!” They move to get up but their body protests. They flop back down and lay their face on the table again. “Urgh.”

“Whoa, Frin. Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”

“No, no I’m fine I—” They try to push themself up but fail. “Okay maybe yes please.”

It takes both Bonnie’s and Mirabelle’s help to get Siffrin to their feet but once they’re standing they’re able to blink some of the exhaustion back. Still, the two each take one of his arms and help him maneuver to the bathroom. Odile follows close behind, hands at the ready in case his legs decide to give out on him.

The bathroom isn't anything spectacular. Just plain stone floors and walls with some generic concentric circles etched in to break up the monotony. It has nothing in the way of storage; the party all had to drag in some barrels to hold their supplies. It’s a miracle it even had a toilet and bathtub with working plumbing.

At least they can expect hot water. Despite the fever that still makes them sweat, they want nothing more than to get their sore, cosmically stretched, and clone-attacked muscles soaked to the bone.

Loop.

They touch their neck and hope it hasn’t bruised visibly yet.

They'll be back. They have to come back. They just need rest, too.

"Everything okay, Siffrin?” Isabeau hums nervously. “I mean, well, relatively speaking"

"Yeah," they nod and take a step forward. "Just... crowded."

"Come on Boniface." Odile picks them up by the armpits with little effort. "There are some things you are not meant to see here."

Peak physical condition is right.

"Aww come on, let me help, I won't look!" They wave their arms with one hand still gripping Siffrin's. The tug hurts a bit but it's too cute to pull away.

"You can help by fixing up all the food everyone gave us and some more things our little problem child hasn't eaten in a long time."

"Oh! Oh, you're right!" Bonnie wiggles their legs until Odile puts them down. They run out of the bathroom, almost tripping on themself. She chuckles at them, her hand on her hip.

"I suppose I'll go help. You two probably can handle it on your own and my knees will not allow me to do any of this."

Mirabelle and Isabeau both nod as Odile turns away.

"Wait, handle what?" Isabeau tilts his head.

"Giving said problem child a bath,” she says over her shoulder.

"Oh!" He gasps.

‘ Oh’ is right! Siffrin feels their arm hair stand on end.

“Uhm, I think I can handle it on my own.”

But do I want to?

She turns to meet his gaze. "Siffrin. You needed all three of us to help you walk twenty feet to the bathroom. We wouldn't want you falling asleep and drowning. Unless that's something you want to risk, I believe that supervision is warranted."

“Ah, right. That’s a... that’s a good point!” Siffrin stammers and both Isabeau and Mirabelle nod rapidly.

"Good, now have fun." With that, she shuts the door and leaves the three of them alone.

"Well, uhm. So," Isabeau begins. His face is already a shade darker. "So how do you want to do this? I mean we can just, you know, hang out without looking while you clean yourself, and just—then we just make sure you're okay or something!”

"Can I wash your hair, Siffrin?" Mirabelle eyes the rat's nest that’s grown atop their head.

Wash my hair?

They run their hands through the tangled mess until their fingers get stuck in the greasy locks. She’d have her work cut out for her... he’s not sure he can accept the favor so soon.

But, ohh they need it. They need the feeling of Mirabelle's fingers combing through their hair and massaging their scalp. He thinks of how her nails will feel digging deep into their skin. They imagine her reaching through their skull and ripping out every bad thought and memory straight from their mind. It sends a small shiver down their spine. It's all too much for Siffrin to process. They shrink down in their cloak and turn away.

"It's okay if you don't! We'll just be here for moral support!" Mirabelle waves her hands and Isabeau nods.

"I... uh... washing... washing my hair sounds... nice," they manage to force out.

"Ohh!" Mirabelle clasps her hands together and does a little skip in place. Her dress flutters and part of it sticks to the rim of the tub. "Oh, maybe I should change into something else."

"Oh, me too!" Isabeau nods and then turns to leave but stops. "Actually." He removes his sash and outer shirt then gives his undershirt a good tug. "This should be good."

Siffrin takes off his own cloak and reaches for his shirt... 

Oh.

He looks at the lightless fabric of his sleeves—at how some spots stain just a bit darker than the rest. The little gaps in the fabric where light shows through shift slightly with each breath.

Oh no.

He didn't tell Mirabelle about that when she healed them. Nobody has seen.

What do they do? They can't stand the thought of being alone. Not now. Maybe he should have them look the other way the whole time, after all.

But... They promised to be honest now. Though, if they didn't ask, is it really dishonest? He clenches his jaw. It is, he's still hiding something from them.

... They can’t really expect him to be able to open up about everything right away, right?

Still... 

They squeeze their eye shut.

“Sif?”

"Siffrin, what's wrong?"

Breathe. In, and out.

They turn their back to them and grab the base of their shirt.

In, and out.

"Please don't freak out."

Deep breath.

They pull their shirt over their head to reveal the mottling of fresh cuts up and down their arms.

Silence.

Dead silence.

He bites his lip hard enough to hurt. He swears he can almost, almost taste blood.

Each second of nothing wears on Siffrin and they fight the urge to cover back up. The distant sounds of Bonnie rummaging around in the kitchen grate in their ears.

"Let me heal you, Siffrin," Mirabelle breathes.

They nod and slowly hold out one arm behind them. She gently takes their fingers in her hand and places her palm on the back of his. She whispers a few things under her breath and starts moving her hand up their arm. The soreness dissipates in little ripples out from her fingertips.

Isabeau shifts behind them and starts swirling his hand in the bath.

"The water should be good," he murmurs.

Siffrin flexes their arm in front of them as Mira begins on their other one.

Scarred. Of course. Most have faded but the deeper, star-shaped ones remain. They no longer hurt, at least, just a dull ache if they move too much. That could also just be everything else wrong with them.

"I'm sorry, Siffrin," Mirabelle murmurs when she sees them scrutinize one of the larger scars. "I—I couldn’t prevent them from scarring. I just don’t have the Craft energy."

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, they're all probably beyond exhausted from dealing with your tantrum.

Why didn't you even consider that until now? Even Bonnie is probably tired from everything and now they're out preparing you a full-course meal.

Siffrin pulls away and holds their half-healed arm to their chest, out of reach.

"I'm—"

"No, Siffrin, it's okay." Mirabelle reaches for them but they turn further away. “I’m happy to finish healing you, really.”

“You’ve already done so much.”

“And I’m willing to do more.” She takes a step closer. “You’d do the same for me if our positions were switched, right?”

“Of course I would!” He whirls around. They squint as their head spins a bit. “You are all..." he pauses, voice lowering. “So important to me.”

Isabeau pulls up two stools to the tub. “And you’re so so important to us too.” He frowns slightly as Siffrin shrinks into themself more. “We choose to do this Sif. We want you to be safe, healthy, and happy and we’re all willing to push ourselves like this to make sure of it.”

“But..." Their voice trails off.

“Siffrin, I promise I’m not putting myself in any danger doing this. It’s just tiring and nothing a few good night’s sleep won't fix.”

“I guess..."

Mirabelle gives Siffrin a tired smile. She reaches for their face.

A stinging memory flashes through their mind and they flinch. They recoil. Their hand flies part way to their cheek but they freeze.

He blinks, blinks, blinks away the memory. He sees Mirabelle standing there with her hands clasped at her chest. Her body is stiff—as if she's frozen in time—but her rapid breathing betrays that.

"Siffrin, I'm... " She worries her lip and picks at her fingertips. "I'm so sorry. I—I shouldn’t have... I know I was angry at those awful things you said but I still shouldn’t have slapped you."

"Of course you should have!" They dig their nails into their arms, threatening to undo everything Mirabelle just healed. "I said all those... cruel, horrible, untrue things when you were stressing out so much about everything! You had the weight of all of Vaugarde on your shoulders! And then your—” they stop themself. “The papers... Why wouldn't you slap me?"

Her face pulls into a grimace. "I still should have kept trying to figure out what was wrong! You're right, I was so stressed and anxious about everything..." She takes a shuddering breath and squeezes her eyes shut. “And it really did hurt... what you said... But I... I just assumed the worst of you... that you never really cared about me... when I knew that wasn’t true. I should have known it wasn’t that... " Her voice quiets to a whisper. “I shouldn’t have given up on you.”

"But... how were you even supposed to guess what was happening?"

Isabeau chimes in. "Well, we wouldn't have figured out the specifics but it was obvious there was something ."

Their shoulders fall. "And I... still wouldn't have said anything.”

Silence.

Wrong response, stupid, stupid, stupid.

"You should have slapped me too, Isa. How were you so calm?"

Worse response! Stop it!

"Sif, I would never hurt you. I couldn’t.”

Mirabelle’s jaw clenches and her face pulls tight.

Isabeau jumps slightly and holds his hands up. “Ah—sorry Mira, I didn’t mean to imply anything! It’s just... you know, defender training and just... my own..." He brings a hand to his chest. “Er—yeah, I’m not judging you or anything for your reaction! Anyway, Sif!” He lets his hand fall to his side and meets their gaze. They have to fight not to look away.

“We all made mistakes yesterday... and we’re all willing to go to great lengths to help you and each other, even if we’re tired. Even if we’re angry.”

Siffrin can't keep his gaze.

Isabeau hums for a moment and then lights up with a small gasp. "Okay, give me your hand."

He hesitates.

Isabeau holds his hand out, palm up. It glistens a bit in the candlelight—from sweat or bath water, Siffrin isn't sure.

Slowly, carefully, they place their closed hand in Isabeau's. He lifts his other hand slowly enough that it doesn't startle them and then very lightly smacks his fingers against their knuckles.

"Whap! There's your slap."

Despite themself, they couldn't hold back a snort.

"Ohhh, the pain~" they whine in a weak, almost ghost-like manner.

Isabeau releases his grip and Siffrin shivers at the sudden coolness.

"Oh, uh, you should probably get in the bath before it gets cold too, huh?"

"Ah, right, yeah." They gaze at the inviting water. They realize their legs are shaking more. "Can you... look the other way for a minute."

Isabeau spins around and Mirabelle covers her eyes.

Siffrin fumbles with their belt—their grip is weaker and stiffer than before. Was it the scarring? Or just exhaustion? They didn't have the energy to think too hard about it. The bath was calling to them.

He slips out of his pants and kicks them to the corner. They approach the tub and tentatively stick in their toe.

Warm. A bit too warm.

They could use all the warmth they can get.

They step inside and settle in quickly. The water burns at every little cut Mirabelle didn’t manage to heal. He grits his teeth and just waits for it to ease up.

They wish for would like a bubble bath so they could hide under a foot of suds, but the bare-bones bathroom doesn't afford such luxuries. Still, they splash a bit of soap in to create a facsimile of a foam shield and cover up their unmentionables with a washcloth.

"Okay," they breathe.

Mirabelle drops her hands and Isabeau waits another second before turning around. Siffrin holds their arms against their chest. There's not much to hide, but still.

The two of them settle down on small stools next to him.

Silence.

Siffrin pokes at a small bruise on their knee.

"Uhm, Siffrin?"

He glances at Mirabelle and tilts his head.

"Are you ready for me to wash your hair?"

Their eye widens and flashes of the past flick through their mind. Her gentle hands worked through his hair as she brushed it, picking out dirt and pulling out tangles. It was so nice they couldn't bring themself to accept any other time she offered.

But now... 

" Please ."

Mirabelle perks up with a smile and grabs two shampoo bottles from atop a barrel.

"Okay, so we have a lavender scent here. It's good for calming you down and helps with sleep." She holds up the other one. "And here we have pineapple sc—"

"LAVENDER!" Siffrin yelps, causing Mirabelle and Isabeau to jump.

"Okay, okay! Lavender it is!" She puts the other bottle far away from Siffrin. “I didn’t think you had such strong feelings for some foods!” She pours a generous amount of the other onto Siffrin's head until a drop of it splatters on his shoulder. Siffrin clenches his jaw and decides against letting that bit of information out for now.

Mirabelle rubs her hands together and gets to work.

Almost immediately he lets out a sigh as her nails rake across his scalp. His eye rolls back into his head and he sinks deeper into the water.

They're floating, becoming one with the Universe. Their pain fades into dull static as their mind focuses solely on their head.

It's heavenly.

"Uh, Sif," Isabeau's voice is soft.

"Mmm?" they hum.

"Anything I can help with?"

Siffrin cracks his eye open at Isabeau. He's sitting with his head turned to the ceiling and scratching at his chin.

"Oh, uh... " They pause and think. It'd be too cramped to ask him to wash anything else while Mirabelle is still working, but his touch is just so inviting all the same.

They mull it over for a moment. They look at their hand, flex their stiff fingers, and reach out.

"Can you... hold my hand?"

Isabeau gasps. "Of course!" He wipes his hands on his pants and takes Siffrin's between them.

It's nice.

They smile and let out a long sigh. He closes his eye and feels the weightlessness of his body. The way Isabeau’s hand molds around his. The way Mirabelle oh so gently tugs at the many tangles in their hair.

How it feels like... 

His mind wanders.

A tear floats gently in front of him. He’s in the house again.

Ugh. He squeezes his eye shut. Now’s not the time for those thoughts.

It’s completely different, anyway. Tears were always so cold and touching them felt more like missing a stair step and falling forever... and the dreams... the dreams were always so weird.

But now! Now he’s warm and feels like he’s being lifted up, up! And no dreaming! Just perfectly controllable awake thoughts.

... 

He’s in the house again.

Their family is there. Talking about something he can’t quite process. The images and sounds are warped and garbled. They can barely make out Bonnie making snacks in the corner.

Their family goes quiet. Everyone looks over at Bonnie.

They aren’t cooking.

Nope! Not that memory!

They shift in the tub and try to force a different thought, hoping nobody notices their discomfort.

Mirabelle continues scrubbing. Isabeau gives their hand another squeeze.

They are in a hallway now. Things look even more warped and broken; the pillars are sinking through the floor, a haze of static obscures almost everything, and the walls seem to be melting. He can still make out his family standing a few paces ahead, surrounding... him?

They’re smiling at him, and then their expressions fall. “He” vanishes.

No, not that one either.

He’s in front of Isabeau by the tree. They reach out and grab his shirt--

No no no!

They pull into themself and furiously wipe their mouth.

“Sif? What’s wrong?” Isabeau puts his other hand on him. Mirabelle stops and places her hands on their shoulders.

“S-sorry, I just..." He doesn’t want to get into it.

Just be vague. Honest, but vague.

“Just thinking about the loops again.”

They both give him little squeezes.

“It’s okay, Siffrin. We’re here.”

“You’re safe,” Isabeau adds, “it’s over, I promise.”

“Yeah,” they swallow a knot in their throat, “yeah it’s over.” He forces himself to relax and give them a reassuring smile. They close their eye again and wait for Mirabelle to continue scrubbing their hair.

But the memories aren’t over--they won’t ever go away, will they?

They’ve forgotten their own family member’s names. They’ve forgotten their home, their language, their past, and whole chunks of their journey before the loops began.

But the loops themselves are so etched into their mind... 

No. No. It’s too early to even think about that. They’ll fade. They won’t keep popping up every time they have a moment of rest. Maybe they’ll even be able to start remembering things from before the loops! It’s just going to be a recovery process.

A long, long recovery process.

It’s fine though! They have their family! They promised they’d be there for him. As long as he can make himself talk about his feelings sometimes, it’ll all work out fine!

They smile and sigh.

Just happy thoughts for now. Focus on Isabeau’s and Mirabelle’s hands. Think about her brushing your hair or Isabeau holding your hands on the rooftop. Think about Odile ruffling your hair or Bonnie’s hug.

His mind starts to drift again.

In the echo of a memory, the Head Housemaiden is crying. Their family calls out to them from the distance. They race to him and he reaches out. He can barely make out anything through the static but their calling his name is unmistakable.

The scene cracks, and breaks, and he’s back in Dormont. Mirabelle screams. Bonnie cries. Odile grips his cloak. And Isabeau... 

Siffrin’s face pulls into a grimace and he shifts in the tub.

They were loved.

They were loved, they were so loved, and yet, they ruined it.

Isabeau locks their fingers together. “We’re here, Sif.”

Mirabelle holds his head in her hands. “Siffrin, you can talk to us about what you’re thinking about if you want.” Her voice is so soft, so gentle. “But... if you can’t right now you can tell us that too... We can just talk about something light instead... to keep your mind off things.”

‘ So you should just accept it! Accept that you'll always be alone!’

They dig their heels into the bottom of the tub.

“I just—” he chokes.

They say they forgive you, but... 

“Sif.” Isabeau pulls their hand closer.

‘ I know what kind of person you are, now. A Coward, Isa. Never able to say what you mean, never able to do what you want.’

You can’t take it back. Can’t undo it all.

“I—” His breathing quickens. Their chest starts to burn. He tries to speak again but only choked sounds come out.

‘ Deep down, you know you can't escape yourself.’

They won’t forget what you said.

A tear runs down their face. It joins the many drops of water clinging to their neck.

‘ Just leave me behind! Just like you left Ka Bue behind!!! Just like your mom lef̵͉͘ţ̷̟̪̀̒͗́͠ ̵̠̩͕̘̫̈͗̌̊y̷̧̡̼͕̮͆̔̆̀̔o̷̝̓̑̍̚͘ŭ̴̘͇̮̄͜ ̷̻̮͔̖̬̇͌̐̒b̵͔͇̤̽̾̽̕͘͠e̶̘̮̦̬͍̿̒ḣ̶̛̝̤̑̈̎̎i̷̪̮͝ň̷͖̣̱̽d̸͙̿̈́́̊̏̿̚!̶͔̻͇̥͎̒͊̅͘’

They’ll live with your words wearing on them forever.

“Siffrin, it’s okay, you don’t have to say it right away.”

They whine and begin to pull away. Their chest is heaving. The room is starting to spin. Stop it. Stop it. Stay in the moment.

“Sif. Breathe with me,” Isabeau’s demand is gentle yet it’s enough to pull their attention to him.

They see him through the tears. He has his hand on his chest. He breathes deeply.

Their head hurts and their hands are shaking and their heart is beating like it's about to explode, so they probably should.

In, and out.

Siffrin tries to copy. He only manages a few shallow gasps at first.

Isabeau doesn’t stop though. He keeps breathing. In and out. He squeezes Siffrin’s hand with each breath.

In. Siffrin closes his eye and inhales. It’s smoother now. He can hear Mirabelle joining in.

Out. He squeezes Isabeau’s hand back.

In. The burning starts to fade.

Out. They can focus on their surroundings more. On the tug of Mirabelle’s fingers in their hair. On the gentle tremble of Isabeau’s hand. On the sounds of their unified breathing.

The echo of their cruel words gets fainter each time, but still crowd the margins of their consciousness.

One more breath.

They slowly open their eye. Isabeau is smiling gently at him.

“Mmmsorry,” Siffrin mumbles.

“It’s okay,” Isabeau assures and Mirabelle hums in agreement.

“I just—” Not again. The tension begins to creep back.

Just say it. It’s no worse than what you’ve already talked about.

"Why'd it... why’d it have to be this time?" they mumble.

"What do you mean?" Isabeau tilts his head.

Another deep breath. "Why'd this loop have to be the one we broke out of? Why this, and not one where I did everything right and you all..." He kicks at the side of the tub, “loved me?"

Isabeau winces. "We do love you now, Sif." They can feel the pain in his voice.

"But I hurt you all so much!”

“Not enough to stop us from loving you.” He squeezes their hand. “Not even close.”

Siffrin’s throat tightens. He paws at the water and watches the bubbles swirl around.

Mirabelle pulls at their hair. "Siffrin, everyone has bad days. People say cruel things they don't really mean to their friends."

Isabeau nods. "Yeah, you just happened to have a really, really long string of really, really bad days. So you only snapping at us now is pretty... urhm... impressive."

Siffrin pops a bubble.

"We really mean it when we say we forgive you, Siffrin." She gives their hair another gentle tug. "And we'll keep reminding you every time we need to."

"But... " They sink against the side. "You said you'll have time to be mad later. So how are you forgiving me so soon?"

Siffrin could sense Mirabelle frowning. "I can forgive you even if I'm still mad! O-or hurt! Just like I can be mad at you and still love you!"

Isabeau nods. "People are just full of conflicting emotions, and it's pretty normal to feel ones that are at odds." He rubs a thumb over Siffrin's scarred knuckles.

"I guess." They pick at a small scab on their forearm until Isabeau puts his other hand over it.

He leans closer. "The important thing is that you're doing what you can to fix it and keep it from happening again."

"What if it does happen again?" They mumble and sink a little further.

"You try harder next time.” He slides his hand up their arm. “And keep trying."

Siffrin mumbles under their breath. "How many times can I mess up before you all hate me?"

Isabeau squeezes their hand. "There's nothing you will do that'll make us hate you. Maybe get mad, or upset—"

"Or worried!" Mira added, picking at her nails.

"Or worried. But we could never hate you. Never. I promise!"

"Siffrin, you know you're such a genuinely good friend, right? We trust that you'll never try to hurt us on purpose. And... we... " She twists a lock of Siffrin's hair around her finger. "You have to trust us to all work things out together if you make a mistake!"

"Yeah!" Isabeau smiles. "You have to trust us too, Sif."

"I do!" Siffrin bolts upright, splashing water over the two of them. "Sorry!"

"Sif! It's okay, it's just water."

Siffrin whines.

Mirabelle pulls his hair and makes them lean back against the tub. They groan softly and move to cover their mouth, but they stop halfway. No point.

"Hehe! Now that we know you like touch, we're gonna make you relax and be nice to yourself! Oh, I mean if that's okay with you! I mean if that's too much it's fine, but we want you to be happy!"

"You make cute noises, Sif," Isabeau blurts out.

"What?"

"What!? Sorry, that just came out!" He covers his mouth. "Mira is right! We're gonna make you care for yourself and be nice and stuff! But only in ways you're comfortable with of course!" His grip tightens and he scratches the back of his head.

The way his cheeks darken and eyes dart around the room is... 

Cute.

"I'm happy to uh... " They sink until their mouth is just above the water. Their knees come up and they pull them closer. "Make more cute noises later, maybe. If it means you'll uh... play with my hair... too."

Isabeau's body jolts and he nearly crushes Siffrin's hand. Mirabelle bites her lip to (poorly) hold back a long 'awwwww'.

"Hahhaha! Yeah, that sounds great! I'll give you a full body massage and everything, I mean if that's what you're okay with obviously I know I've said it before but I just want to make sure you know I'm not gonna do anything too soon or make you uncomfortable I know you said you'll think about it and stuff so it can be a totally platonic massage or none at all but I just want you to know I'm here to make you feel better in whatever way I can!" When he stops he has to catch his breath.

Siffrin holds back a laugh. Isabeau's grip is still rock solid and their hand is beginning to hurt. "Isa," He tries to flex his fingers.

"Oh, oh Sif I'm sorry!" he cries, releasing his grip. Siffrin turns their hand around and makes a fist a few times. The pain fades quickly and they re-link their hand with his.

Isabeau coughs out a laugh. "S-see!? See this is what I mean where you can feel many emotions. Your hand can hurt from my sweaty rock grip but you still love me!" His eyes widen. "R-right?"

Siffrin bites back a snort. Isabeau tugs at his hair. "No, of course not," they say, sticking their tongue out. "Hand hurty is my limit!"

"Nooooooooooooo!" Isabeau cries out and leans back to press the back of his hand to his forehead. "Not the—ACK" The small stool slips out from under him and he goes crashing to the floor, dragging Siffrin out with him. They land hard on top of him and they both wheeze. Soap-suds splatter across Isabeau's face.

Mirabelle jumps up, nearly toppling over as well but only manages to grab the towel bar at the last second.

"Owwie," Siffrin grunts.

"Sif holy crab! I didn't mean to do that I'm so sorry!" Isabeau sounds on the verge of tears. Immediately his hands are on their shoulders and Mira is behind them a second later. It’s cold, it hurts, and they might have soap in their eye but... Isabeau’s warm. They almost don’t want to get up, but before they can even finish the thought Isabeau and Mirabelle are both helping him to his feet. They stumble a bit; their legs are still weak from the shock, but they manage to get their footing. Mira pulls her hands back but Isabeau keeps his grip solid as Siffrin steps back into the water.

Ahh, warm again.

“I am so sorry, Sif. I didn’t mean to keep holding on!” he whines. “... Or to fall in the first place.” He finally lets go of Siffrin only to bury his face in his soapy, wet hands. He groans loudly.

"Isa, it's okay!" They wince and put their hand to a reopened wound but don't stop laughing even as Mirabelle frantically works to close it back up.

More or less okay.

As she finishes and wipes her arm on her brow with a long sigh, Siffrin begins to giggle.

"Ribs hurty too," they wheeze through a bout of laughter.

The muffled sound of stomping catches their attention.

"FRIN! ZA! BELLE! ARE YOU OKAY IN THERE!?"

"Are you being too rough with them Isabeau?" They swear they can hear the smirk in Odile's voice. "In front of Mirabelle, too?"

Isabeau makes a choked sound and turns to the door. "N-no! We aren't doing anything like that!" He whines as Siffrin's laughing grows ever louder. "It's fine!"

Oh stars, it hurts, it hurts so much but they can't stop.

Oh no, you're being weird again. Stop it!

They crack a glance at Mira and Isabeau. They're... 

Trying not to laugh, too?

Isabeau snorts into his hand and joins in, Mira soon after.

He feels tears welling in his eye. He can see them in Isabeau's, too.

"HEY, WHAT'S SO FUNNY" Bonnie yells and smacks their hands against the door. "DID FRIN MAKE A DUMB CRABBING PUN AGAIN?"

Quick, think of one!

"Oh, it's—" Siffrin wheezes. "Uhhh... "

"It appears Sif has really fallen for me!" Isabeau says through giggles.

"BAD! YUCK! THAT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY YOU GUYS BETTER NOT START BEING GROSS ALL THE TIME!"

"Boniface, you're going to burn dinner."

"OH CRAB!" There's a sound of rapidly retreating stomps and then silence.

"Hahha—oww." Siffrin grips their sides again.

"Siffrin, be careful." Mirabelle holds out her hands but stops. Her genuine concern is broken by giggles she can't quite bite back.

They wave a hand at her before wiping his eye. "It's fine." They cough. "I actually feel... better, now." His gaze lands on Isabeau, who’s looking away with a crooked smile and a burning blush.

...Huh?

Isabeau’s shoulders still shake from barely contained laughter. His chest is covered in soap suds, and he is digging his fingers into his wrist.

"Oh, um... Siffrin... " Mirabelle picks something up off the floor and hands it to him.

The washcloth.

"OH!"

Siffrin nearly splashes half the water out of the tub slapping it back over their groin. He pulls his knees back to his chest and winces at the strain.

"Ow."

"Be careful, Sif!" Isabeau does a quick double-take before looking at them again.

Siffrin holds their hand out to him and he takes it. They sway them from side to side.

Mirabelle lets out a small whine. "Madame Odile is probably going to be at our throats if we stretch out your recovery more like this!" She wrings her hands together, then places one on top of Isabeau's. "And I can't imagine how Nille will react if we take longer getting Bonnie back home because of... this!"

Siffrin coughs out a few more chuckles and sighs.

Actually... they think about the things Bonnie has said about Nille. About her suplexing a guy for touching her. About crafting a hammer so big it broke the wall she hung it on.

He fails to suppress a shudder at the thought of her giving him a whole new set of wounds. Despite them becoming unimaginably strong during the loops, they still wouldn’t want to cross an angry and protective sibling.

“Getting cold, Sif?”

They’re snapped back to the present. “Oh, yeah, a bit.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The water was starting to lose its delightful heat.

"Do you want us to heat it up more or are you done?"

Siffrin mulls it over for a moment. "No, I probably need to lie down after all that," they chuckle.

Isabeau lets out a long whine. "Sif I'm still so sorry about that!"

"Isa," Siffrin squeezes his hand as hard as they can... which is admittedly not very hard with how exhausted he is. "I promise it's fine. I... really needed that laugh." They pull their other hand away from their knees and place it on top of their friends' hands.

"Also, uhm, Isa, " they look away as their face grows hot. "Can you, um... "

"Yeah, what's up Sif?" He leans closer.

"Can you rinse my hair for me?" He looks at Mirabelle. "Oh, i-it's not that you did a bad job at washing my hair or anything! It felt great!"

"I get it, Siffrin," she chuckles. "You did promise him you'd let him help too."

"Wait, I did?"

"No, but you should have!" Isabeau teases in mock offense.

Siffrin pouts. "Well you get to anyway, so here!" He pushes a cup into Isabeau's hands.

"Gasp! You have bestowed upon me the sacred goblet with which I will complete my holy task." He holds it gingerly in his hands and bows to them.

“Of course, my loyal knight.” Siffrin bows back. “There are not many I trust to handle such an arduous task!”

“Did you really have to say ‘gasp’ out loud, Isabeau?” Mirabelle shakes her head with a sigh and a barely restrained smile.

“I sure did!” he hums with a wide smile as he squeezes the suds from Siffrin’s hair.

They take another washcloth to their arms and start scrubbing, smiling.

"Do you want me to get your back, Siffrin?" Mirabelle asks.

"Please," he sighs.

She hums and begins with their shoulders. She rubs gentle circles down his back and is oh-so careful to avoid any visible wounds. Isabeau holds his palm against Siffrin's brow as he pours water over their head. They almost fall asleep right then and there as they’re cared for with such gentleness.

Having so many hands on them felt so... 

Nice.

Much harder to get distracted with dark thoughts with so much going on.

Yet it was getting to the verge of overstimulating. Especially each time he passes his washcloth over the not-fully-healed wounds speckling his arms.

But it's okay. They've waited so long for this. Nothing's perfect, after all.

They move to their chest, then to their legs. He's able to scrub a bit harder now—only old wounds and a few bruises there. He’s definitely working faster than the others. He almost wants to have them help with that too but he doesn’t quite think he’s ready yet.

"Thank you," they breathe.

"Of course," Mirabelle and Isabeau both hum in response.

Just about done. Siffrin finds the stopper with his toe and pops it out.

Isabeau squeezes the water from their hair and they let out another involuntary sigh in response.

They start to stretch their legs as the water drains, remembering at the last moment to slap the washcloth back over their crotch. They suppose Isabeau wouldn't mind seeing what they have but they couldn't subject Mirabelle to the horrors.

"Do you want me to dry your hair too?" Isabeau asks quietly.

"Don't get greedy, Isabeau!" Mira teases with a gentle shove to his soapy shoulder. She makes a face and rinses her hand off in the nearly-drained water.

"Whaaat! I just want to be helpful to our little rogue!"

Siffrin tries to reach for their hat to cover their blush but, once again, grabs empty air.

"I can dry their hair and you can brush it, how about that? Er—" he turns to Siffrin. "If you’re okay with it!"

Siffrin nods stiffly while biting their lip. They shudder from the exposure and Isabeau rushes to grab towels. He drapes one over their shoulders and gets to work on their hair.

"Oh, we should probably get you a change of clothes." Mirabelle eyes the tattered and bloody pile in the corner. She opens the door to find all three sets of their sleeping clothes neatly folded right outside.

"Aww, thank you, Madame!"

"Are you DONE NOW?" Bonnie groans. “Dinner's been done since forever and it's gonna get cold!"

"It hasn't even been ten minutes, Boniface." Odile sighs.

"FOREVER!"

Mirabelle giggles and struggles to close the door with her arms full of clothing.

Isabeau holds his hand out for Siffrin to grab onto and slowly helps them to their feet. Steam wafts off from their shaking legs. They hang on tighter and step out, but don’t let go of Isabeau for another moment.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” They nod. They let go but hover their hands over his forearm for a moment until they can calm the shaking of their legs enough. He towels himself off and slips into his soft, clean night clothes while Mirabelle and Isabeau switch into theirs. It’s barely a second after they finish before Isabeau is back to drying their hair.

Their knees grow weak and they lean against him.

"Whoa, Sif. Let's get you to bed. We can eat there too."

Siffrin stumbles upright and nods. "Sounds good. I uh... think I could sleep for a year."

"Hah, I think we all could." He takes Siffrin by the shoulders and guides them over to the bed. He flops down halfway on it and both Isabeau and Mirabelle have to maneuver his limp noodle of a body into a more comfortable position. They wrap him up in many blankets and settle in on either side of him. Bonnie and Odile arrive soon after with plates piled high with food.

Siffrin smiles and leans his head against Isabeau’s chest.

Warm.

[maysileeewrites]

midnight answer

Robb Stark x fem! Reader || 18+; MDNI!

Synopsis: Moments like these, when he’s so tender and gentle are the hardest to remind yourself that this doesn’t mean anything. You and Robb are just friends - friends, helping each other out, as he put it - nothing more, nothing less. And Robb’s heart certainly doesn’t beat for you, like yours does for him. 

c.w.: angsty smut!! (I feel that this is the best way to describe this lol), lots and lots of angst and emotional hurt with an eventual happy ending, yearning & notions of unrequited love, Robb being an emotionally-stinted idiot (I fear that’s becoming a canon event in my Robb fics lol)

word count: 3.2k || masterlist

i’m your midnight answer,  queen of the night 

The nights are the worst. 

And yet, somehow, they’re simultaneously also the best. 

They’re the only part of the day during which you can really pretend that Robb is yours. And not even that’s entirely true, and maybe that’s what’s so disheartening about it. 

Because how can you really pretend that he’s yours when he always leaves your side, sometimes just moments after finishing inside you? 

How can you pretend that his heart is yours, when sometimes, he’s deliberately not looking at you, just thrusting himself into you, his head lowered to the crook of your neck? 

Robb’s heart was claimed a long time ago, when he first met Talisa - Talisa, who has been dead for almost a year now, not that that changes a single thing -, you’d known that when you first started sleeping with Robb. 

Just as you’d known that love was never supposed to be part of the arrangement - definitely not for Robb, at least. 

He’d made that abundantly clear after the first time you’d slept together. 

„Look, I really like you, but this - this isn’t - this doesn’t mean anything“, he’d said, his back turned to you, already walking back over towards his table with the maps of Westeros spread out on it, while putting his robe back on. 

„This is just - two friends helping each other out.“ 

„Sure“, you’d said, trying to swallow down the bitter pang of heartbreaking disappointment you’d felt. „Just two friends - two friends helping each other …“ 

Robb wasn’t even paying attention to you anymore, his eyes already glued to a letter from one of his allies. You’re not quite sure, but you think that he didn’t even notice walking you out of his tent a few moments later after you couldn’t bear the heavy, uncomfortable silence anymore. 

Robb was right - this really didn’t mean anything, you tried to tell yourself as you walked through camp back towards your tent, crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying to fight off the chill of the cool night air. 

This didn’t mean anything, you were just two friends, helping each other out. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

But, of course, your stupid little heart just had to go and fall in love with him anyways. 

Maybe it serves you right, if you really think about it. Maybe this is what you get for agreeing to this arrangement in the first place. 

Maybe you should have seen the signs, instead of trying to ignore them. Maybe you should’ve acknowledged that in all your years of knowing Robb, you’d always felt drawn to him, like there was something tying the two of you together. 

Maybe, you’d always held love for Robb in your heart and just didn’t realize it sooner. 

Not that any of that matters, now. 

Certainly not right in this very moment, when you’re in Robb’s arms, your hands tangled in his auburn curls, your legs around his waist, with him moving inside you, his hands on your waist keeping you in place, as he continues to thrust up into you. 

Just then, his ice blue eyes find yours, and for a moment, every sad, disheartening thought you’ve had about Robb and the hopelessness of your situation fades away. 

These bittersweet, dangerously hopeful moments are the worst. 

These moments when he looks at you like this could really be something more. Like there’s something there, something more, some feeling he’s having that goes beyond the purely phyiscal arrangement you’d initially agreed on. 

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, and just when you think that he couldn’t possibly confuse you anymore, he cups your face with one hand and leans in to kiss you. 

Your stupid, traitorous little heart starts to beat faster as you tug on Robb’s curls harder, reciprocating the kiss. 

You and Robb rarely kiss. 

Sure, you’ve gotten each other off with your mouths countless of times, and Robb usually loves to explore the rest of your body with his lips, but you don’t really kiss. 

The few times you’ve kissed, it always was a spur of the moment thing. Like that one time Robb seemed so overwhelmed by his orgasm that he’d cupped your face, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry, bruising kiss. Or that other time you’d been in this exact position, Robb looking up at you and you’d felt that the tension between you so intense to the point that it was almost unbearable and so, you’d leaned forward and kissed Robb, trying to somehow dissolve the tension. 

But other than that, you barely kiss. And when you do, it’s usually hungry and bruising, your mouths clashing together. 

Not so tender, and - loving. 

And no, you can’t go there, thinking thoughts like that. 

You simply can’t. 

And so, you do the only thing you can think of trying to distract yourself - you use Robb’s distracted state and start moving your hips, meeting his powerful thrusts with your own movements. 

Robb groans loudly, the sound alone enough to have you clenching around him. 

„Gods“, he groans, his blue eyes finding yours again, „keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.“

You smirk, doing exactly what he tells you. 

Robb closes his eyes, groaning again. You love seeing him like this, coming undone, pure, unfiltered pleasure overtaking his features. 

It doesn’t take much longer for both of you to reach your peak, your hands tugging harshly on Robb’s curls, trying to steady yourself against the white-hot waves of pleasure crashing over you. Robb pulls out of you just in time, though you can’t help but think that this time, it feels more like an afterthought instead of the usual necessary precaution. 

After, when he’s cleaned you both up and tenderly tucked your robe over your shoulders, Robb presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head - another thing he rarely does, if ever. If you think about it, this might be the first time he’s ever done that. 

You bite down hard on your lip, avoiding Robb’s gaze for a moment. Moments like this, when he’s so tender and gentle are the hardest to remind yourself that this doesn’t mean anything. 

This doesn’t mean anything - you and Robb are just friends. 

Just friends. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

And Robb’s heart certainly doesn’t beat for you, like yours does for him. 

And so, you get up, trying not to look at Robb, tying your robe tighter around yourself. 

But just when you turn to move away from Robb, his hand suddenly grasps yours. 

He softly utters your name, and you can’t help it, you look up to meet his bright blue eyes. 

„I - you - you don’t have to go … I-“

Your heart starts beating faster. 

„What - what are you saying, Robb?“ 

„I’m saying that I want you to stay“, he says, running a hand through his curls, which only serves to make them look even more disarranged. 

„Oh“, you say, suddenly feeling quite breathless. „Oh, I-“

Just say yes, your heart seems to tell you, pounding fast in your chest. 

Don’t agree, is what your mind tells you. Don’t agree - you’ll only fall harder for him, which will make it all the more unbearable when he’ll break your heart in the end. 

But what if he won’t break your heart? 

What if maybe - just maybe - he’s starting to feel the same way you do? 

„You alright there, love?“ Robb’s concerned voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 

And of course, now he has to go and call you love as well - something he also never did before. 

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, trying to force a smile onto your face. „Just - a litte lost in thought“, you say, trying to shrug it off. 

You’ve never before asked me to stay the night - what is it that’s changed for you now? 

„But sure, I, uh - I can stay the night …“ 

Robb smiles. In this moment, he looks so happy, his smile lighting up his whole face; so serenely beautiful, it physically pains you to look at him. 

„That sounds wonderful, love“, he says, coming to stand in front of you and cradling your face in his hands. 

Your heart aches as you smile up at him. 

„It really does.“ 

🐺⚔️ 

When you wake up, Robb is still fast asleep behind you, one hand spread rather possessively across your stomach, his other arm slung over your waist, keeping you pressed to his chest, just like every other morning. 

Two months have passed since Robb first asked you to stay the night. 

Two months in which you stayed nearly every night. (Two months for you to fall even more in love with Robb, and for the moments in which you think that there might be more to his feelings than he’s letting on to only become even more painfully bittersweet.) 

A few times he even came to your tent - something that also never happened. 

He’s never stayed the night though, at least not until now. 

Another first. You seem to be experiencing a lot of firsts with Robb, lately. Like last night, when he’d kissed you good night, before scooping you up in his arms. He’s never really done that before. Sometimes, he’d kiss you on the cheek or on the crown of your head, before walking back to his own tent. He’s never before given you a proper good night kiss, though. 

What does it mean - if it even means anything, because sometimes, when you get really frustrated with your whole situation with Robb, you feel as if with Robb, you can never really be sure of anything. 

These moments during which you feel as if there’s more to his feelings for you than what he’s letting on - do they even mean anything in the grand scheme of things? Because if he’d truly developed feeling for you, wouldn’t he have said something, anything by now? You’ve been sleeping with each other for over a year now - surely if he’d really feel more than just friendship for you, you’d have noticed it somehow. 

Which, in the end it just means that you’re a fool - a fool not to have better protected your emotions, especially when you’d always known how this would end. With your heart broken into a thousand pieces, and Robb’s heart still dead and unbeating, never beating for you. And how could that ever be, when he loved Talisa as much as he did? When you’re nothing more than a friend, and what you’ve been doing for over a year is nothing more than just two friends helping each other out. 

„Mornin’, love.“ 

Robb’s soft voice, still heavy with sleep, draws you out of your thoughts, as do his lips, tenderly exploring the soft skin of your neck. You’ve been so deeply withdrawn into your own thoughts that you haven’t even noticed Robb wake up. 

„Sleep well?“, Robb murmurs, before softly kissing a spot on your neck that’s already tender and sensitive to touch from all the attention he gave it during the night. 

You try to force yourself to say something, anything, but the words won’t come out. You feel your heart starting to beat faster, your throat starting to constrict. 

Robb, of course, notices your silence - and also the way your whole body stiffens, when he sits up behind you, resting his head on the crook of your neck. 

„Something the matter?“, he asks you, his voice now laced with concern. 

Still, you cannot bring yourself to answer him. 

His concern - it means nothing, you’re trying to convince yourself. You’re just friends - just friends. Oh, how you hate that word. Because how can it ever be enough for you to just be Robb’s friend, when you love him so much that sometimes it physically pains you to even be in the same room as him? 

Robb says your name, his tone pleading. When you still don’t answer him, he carefully lets you out of his grasp, before shuffling around on the bed, until he’s sitting right in front of you. 

„Love, please talk to me.“ 

And something about the urgency in his voice and the intense emotion in his bright blue eyes finally breaks you down. 

„What - what is this, Robb?“

Your voice is shaky and uneven, sounding as though you’re on the verge of breaking down in tears. 

„What-“, Robb starts to say, but you immediately cut him off. 

„No, really, Robb, what is this? What - what are we even doing? What - why are you still doing this to- why are we still doing this?“ 

„I don’t-“

„Look, I know - I know what we’ve agreed on, in the beginning. I know that - that this … we’re just friends, right? Just friends - friends“, your tone turns bitter and you laugh darkly. „Friends, helping each other out … well we’ve helped each other out a lot, haven’t we?“ 

You laugh again, shaking your head. The words continue to come, though - it feels like once you’ve started talking, started finally voicing your thoughts and pouring your heart out, there’s no stopping it. 

„Look, Robb, I get it - I do, I really, really do. This - it’s just - it �� it doesn’t even mean anything, right? Not to you, anyways … I get it - and I wish I didn’t, but I do … you, you just - you needed someone - someone to be there for you, after Talisa-“

„Stop“, Robb suddenly interrupts you, the word so strong and forceful that you wince. 

Your heart aches and you blink furiously, because even though you've already faced away from Robb, you don’t want to cry, not in front of him. Not yet. In just a few moments, once he’s finally broken your heart once and for all, you can break down and cry. 

Because - of course. 

Of course, just the mere mention of Talisa is enough to scare him off for good. You shake your head, angry at yourself. How could you have been such a fool, not seeing that this was always how this was going to end - with your heart in pieces, because you’d been naive enough to believe that Robb might feel the same way you do. 

„Gods, I’m such an idiot“, you whisper, your voice breaking on the last word. 

„You’re right“, Robb suddenly says, his voice sounding just as broken as yours. You don’t care though, not in this moment, with your heart already aching. 

„You’re right - I did need someone after - after Talisa died. I did need someone - I needed you. Gods, how could I have been so blind and stupid?“ He laughs bitterly, and even though you’re still facing away from him, you can tell just by the tone of his voice alone and his frustrated sigh that he’s running a hand through his curls in desperation. 

„I needed you - I needed - gods, after she died, I felt as if nothing would ever make sense anymore, as if I’d never be happy again.“ 

You bite down hard on your lip, already regretting how you’ve just opened up to Robb. Your heart’s already bleeding, you really don’t want to hear about how much he still loves Talisa. 

„And I needed - I needed to drown my grief, to numb the pain, somehow. And you - by the seven, I was so stupid … I needed you, craved your presence so much that by the time I realized how much I wanted you, how much I loved you, I’d already messed everything up by starting this whole situation in the first place … but gods help me, I don’t regret it. I know I should - gods, I really, really should, when I’ve already hurt you so much, but - gods, after Talisa died, everything was so dark and heavy and I didn’t think that I’d ever truly feel alive again … but then you - you showed me so much light - and gods I wish that I’d realized sooner what I have with you …“ 

„Robb“, you interrupt him, voice shaky, heart pounding in your chest, „what - what are you saying?“ 

Robb doesn’t answer your question immediately, in fact, the only thing you hear is the rustling of the thick fur covers you always sleep under. Then, suddenly, Robb is right in front of you, kneeling down on the floor before you, carefully reaching for your hands and lacing your fingers together. 

His eyes find yours. 

For a moment, it feels as if the whole word has stopped moving. 

For a moment, there’s nothing else, just you and Robb, looking at each other, both of you breathing heavily, regret burdening you down. 

„I’m saying that I love you - gods, I love you so much and I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner.“ 

You let out a choked little noise at his words, causing Robb to smile softly. 

„I’m saying that I love you and that if you’ll have me - if you can forgive me -  I’ll love you. I love you, and I just - I just want to be with you … if you’ll still have me, that is …“, his voice trails off, yet his gaze doesn’t leave yours. 

His eyes look watery and he’s blinking back tears furiously, but that’s not the thing you’re focused on. No, what you’re focused on is the intense emotion in his eyes - all his love and yearning for you, the emotions perfectly mirroring your own. 

„Robb, I-“, you start to say, but he cuts you off almost immediately. 

„I’m sorry for not realizing things sooner, I’m sorry, I - I’ve probably been quite the jerk, especially in the beginning, but I-“

„I get it“, you interrupt him, squeezing his hand. 

He looks like he’s on the verge of interrupting you again, and so, you do the only thing you can think of in that moment to shut him up - you lean forward and kiss him. 

Later, you’ll have time to reflect on your emotions and on what you mean to each other, together. Later, there will be time to properly talk things through. 

But right now, you just want to be in this moment with Robb. Because while you know that there’s a lot you both need to talk about, a lot that you need to process, you’re sure that there’s one thing you won’t need time to properly work through: Robb loves you. 

Because no mater how unattainable, how unbelievable that notion seemed only a few weeks ago, you just know that it’s true. 

Maybe it’s the way Robb said it, with so much sincerity, his voice so full of emotion. 

Maybe it’s in the way he kisses you, desperate and urgent, as if to make up for time lost. 

Maybe it’s in the way his hands have found their way to your waist, holding on tightly to you, as if he never intends to let go of you. 

Or maybe it’s in the way your heart flutters when Robb starts to bunch up the fabric of your nightdress around your waist with one hand, using his other hand to gently spread your legs apart, before he kneels back down on the floor again. 

But maybe it doesn’t matter how you know - maybe the only thing that matters is that you do know. 

Robb loves you. 

And so, you close your eyes, tangling your hands in Robb’s auburn curls, getting lost in the moment completely as Robb starts kissing his way up the inside of your thigh.

tagging: @rheanyraaaa @inkandarsenic @amethystinie @strrvnge @samieree @justmymindandstuff @prettydeeryess @whppxdit4chi

[hexbians]

Okay so hear me out. Bizarre Jayvik au…

Subnautica. (Spoilers for both the game and Arcane season 2)

Piltover is kind of the equivalent of Alterra, big greedy-for-progress science corporation that runs a lot of earth and intergalactic travel and junk. (Other nations of runeterra are probably like- competing corporations idk.)

Jayce and Viktor are renowned research partners who contributed a lot of scientific knowledge to the invention of the phase gates (space hexgates) and they’re sent on the Aurora to go scope out planet 4546B. It’s their first field mission they’ve done together. Viktor did some private missions on his own through Singed before he got scouted into Piltover by Heimerdinger, and Jayce and his mother used to live on a colony planet before a natural disaster drove them out and he’s done lots of separate missions once he’d joined Piltover, but they’ve never gotten to run their research on a planet together before. It’s a very exciting prospect.

What they aren’t expecting is for the ship to get shot down by a mysterious alien canon and to crash land on 4546B. They get separated due to a tear in the ship and have to take separate lifepods to escape. Viktor lands in the reefy shallows (where the player lands in the game), while Jayce’s pod winds up landing on the floating island because he’s a lucky fucking duck. Viktor’s resourceful as hell, though, so as soon as he’s able to scrap together a seaglide, his leg isn’t much of an issue.

The plot details are a bit fuzzy, but eventually they do reunite, Jayce has got a whole garden going on the island, Viktor’s gathered tons of resources and has a pretty solid base, and they both are slowly learning more and more about not only the intelligent lives who once inhabited this planet, but also Piltover’s corruption and dubious plans for the planet. (Cue environmentalism win as Jayce and Viktor plot to stop them) also they both get sick and do the whole sea empress cure plot.

The plot definitely bleeds into Below Zero because I want something to set them apart, like maybe Jayce thinks they can go change Piltover for the better, but Viktor recognizes their corruption for what it is and leaves Jayce. Also he definitely gets severely injured either before or after that and Jayce revives him using the decoded research of the aliens who once lived there, and utilizes their tech, and can you IMAGINE Machine Herald but alien? The hexclaw being one of Al-An’s cool levitating arms? And Jayce going lowkey feral and being like Maida with the battle suit and pet snow stalker?

They make amends at some point, cure the virus once and for all in the big old iced leviathan, and stay on the planet together, warding away visitors who might harm it.

Anyway alien machine herald and feral Jayce with his massive dog and maybe Viktor finds a Rio-adjacent critter friend as well? I need it. They guard 4546B and Viktor lowkey formed that mental connection with Jayce like Al-An so they can mind text. They’re also husbands. Win for environmentalism AND the gays.

That’s all, I’m sleep-deprived at an airport, the end.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Yo. Been really getting interested in Eureka recently, cause it looks cool as hell from what I've read, and also I ran a police procedural campaign a few years back that I'd like to bring back, but my choice of system back then for the type of game was bad (Savage Worlds). Likely gonna give Eureka a shot with it anyway, but does the game separate out the urban fantasy elements from the more realistic/mundane elements by how much? Like, do traits have seperate sections for non/fantasy and fantasy traits, or is it all just together? Is there anything else in the game that complicates running a campaign with no fantasy elements?

You can download Eureka from this link for free (we’d really appreciate it if you paid but payment is optional) and check it out for yourself, just in case you didn’t know!

But to answer your question, the urban fantasy stuff and the mundane stuff actually are quite separate in the book. You’ll find a few references to the existence of vampires and stuff in the mundane rules, but all of the rules for supernatural characters are found in the very back of the book, not mixed in with the other character creation stuff.

As for other complications, this isn’t exactly a complication with running a fully mundane no-fantasy game, but there might be a few small complications with running a police procedural game. Don’t get me wrong, I actually still think that Eureka is probably your best option for a police investigation campaign, but there will need to be a little tinkering. But that’s what I’m here for.

By default, Eureka assumes that the PCs are not cops, so it assumes that they don’t have access to all of the resources cops have when investigating crimes. Eureka assumes that the PCs don’t have the institutional power to make an arrest, to take someone in for official interrogation, to call for backup if they get into a bad situation, or to send forensic evidence back to the lab for analysis.

Now, the only one of these that I can think of actually causing any friction with the game itself is the part about sending forensic evidence back to the lab.

Making an arrest and interrogating someone would be easily handled by the rules as they are with no changes. For calling for backup, you could take a look at the “Heat” section in Chapter 7. That section is normally used for what happens if the cops get called *on* the PCs, but since it has mechanics to tell you how long it takes the cops to show up, you could just use those same rules to determine how long it takes for backup to arrive.

Sending forensic evidence back to the lab, well, we don’t have anything for that. If I had to make something up on the fly, realistically it would probably be like, the PCs bag the evidence and send it to the lab and then in 1D6 days they get the information back.

Of course if I were writing this into the rules for real, I’d probably spend hours or days on it coming up with some kind of system that determines the reliability of that evidence and how likely it is to be a false positive or false negative (because IRL forensic evidence is not nearly as reliable as cop shows make it look or as reliable as police would like you to believe), but i have Silk&Dagger to write right now.

And here's another link

[sturnswrites]

the couples menu

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

⤳ fluff

⤳ you and chris have been best friends for forever, but after an unexpected comment at your favorite diner, you both start to question how you really feel for each other.

---------------------------------------------

The diner buzzed with its usual evening crowd, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation creating a comforting background noise. You and Chris had been coming here for years, ever since high school. There was something safe about this place—the worn vinyl booths, the sticky tabletops, the flickering neon sign outside that read “Best Pie in Town.”

Chris sat across from you, lazily stirring his Pepsi with his straw, his head tilted as he listened to you recount the latest chaos from your day.

“And then,” you said, waving your hands for emphasis, “he just walked away! Like he didn’t just spill an entire coffee on me. No apology, no offer to help. Just gone.”

Chris leaned back in the booth, shaking his head. “That’s wild. Honestly, I think you scare people sometimes. Maybe he thought you were gonna yell at him.”

“I do not scare people,” you protested, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oh, you definitely do.” He smirked, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Chris!”

“Hey, I’m just saying. You’ve got that whole fiery thing going on. It’s intimidating.”

You huffed, crossing your arms, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you as they twitched upward.

“Anyway,” he said, leaning forward, “did you at least get a new coffee?”

“Of course. I wasn’t about to let him ruin my day and deprive me of caffeine.”

“That’s my girl.”

Your heart stuttered at the casual endearment, but you quickly brushed it off. Chris had always been like this—teasing, affectionate, comfortable. You had been best friends for, well, forever. It didn’t mean anything… right? 

Before you could spiral too much, the waitress appeared at your table with a laminated menu. She was probably in her forties, with kind eyes and a warm smile that felt like an invitation to trust her.

“You two are just the cutest,” she said, placing the menu between you.

You blinked, glancing at Chris, who looked equally confused. “Uh, thanks?”

“I thought you might like to see our Couples Special,” she continued, gesturing to the menu. “It’s perfect for lovebirds like you.”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh, we’re not—”

“Couple,” Chris finished quickly, holding up his hands. “We’re not a couple.”

The waitress looked between the two of you, clearly unconvinced, but she just smiled knowingly. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

She walked away, leaving you both sitting there in stunned silence.

Chris was the first to break it, a laugh escaping his lips. “Well, that was… something.”

“She thought we were a couple,” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “Can you blame her? We’re here all the time, we’re laughing, having a great time. We probably do look like a couple.”

You stared at him, your heart doing that annoying flutter thing it had been doing lately whenever he was around. “You’re not seriously saying we should just go along with it.”

“I’m saying,” he said, picking up the menu, “ten bucks off dessert isn’t a bad deal.”

“Chris!”

“What? It’s practical. Plus, free dessert.”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help laughing. He always had a way of making things light, even when your stomach was doing anxious flips.

The rest of the meal went on mostly as usual, though you couldn’t shake the lingering tension from the waitress’s assumption. Every so often, Chris would catch your eye, a small smile tugging at his lips, like he was amused by the whole situation.

When the bill came, the waitress gave you another warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hope you two have a lovely night.”

Chris thanked her, his voice smooth and easy, but you felt like your face might catch fire.

Outside, the evening air was cool against your flushed skin. You walked side by side toward Chris’s car, the silence between you heavy but not uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, stopping just short of the car.

You turned to face him, your pulse quickening at the serious look on his face. “What’s up?”

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his gaze flicking to the ground before meeting yours. “Can we talk about tonight? The whole ‘couple menu’ thing?”

Your stomach twisted, heart beating faster and faster. “What about it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “It just… it got me thinking. About us.”

Your heart was pounding now, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “What about us?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, don’t you think it’s weird? Like, why does everyone always assume we’re together?”

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I guess we spend a lot of time together. People just assume.”

“Yeah, but I mean, I think it’s more than that,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s the way we are around each other. We laugh, we tease, we’re comfortable. I don’t blame people for thinking we’re a couple because… sometimes, I think about it too.”

You froze, his words hitting you like a tidal wave. Your voice came down to a whisper from the shock you were feeling. “You… what?” 

He sighed, his breath visible in the chilly air. “Y/N, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Years actually. And tonight just made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel something for you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

Your breath caught, your heart hammering in your chest. “Chris…”

“I get it if you don’t feel the same way,” he rushed on, his voice tinged with nervousness. “I just… I had to tell you. Even if it messes things up, I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I can’t keep moving on wondering what could be between us.”

You stared at him, your emotions swirling in a confusing mess of shock, joy, and fear. Finally, you took a shaky step forward. “Chris, I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I feel the same way. I think I’ve been in love with you for years, and I was just too scared to admit it. I’ve tried so hard to move past it because I never wanted it to be the reason that I… lost you.” as you swallowed hard unsure of what he was going to say next. 

His eyes widened, hope flickering across his face. “You mean that?”

You nodded, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Yeah. I mean that.”

Relief washed over him, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you like he never wanted to let go.

“I was so scared I’d ruin everything,” he murmured into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. “If anything, you made it better.”

He smiled, his eyes shining as he leaned his forehead against yours. “So… are we a couple now?”

You grinned, your heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I guess we are.”

“Good,” he said, his voice steady. “Because I don’t think I could ever let you go.”

And just like that, everything between you and Chris fell into place, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.

---------------------------------------------

still don’t really know what I’m doing but this was fun to write 😛

⭒ margot

[ricky-mortis]

Curtwen Week Day 6: Happy Ending

[elevenenthusiast]

If those leaks about stranger things 5 on twitter are true then i have nothing else to say other than that it sounds ass.

[autistic-katara]

icl i would be at least a little happy with almost any ending for stranger things but one thing that would ruin all of it would be an epilogue (of a decade or more later)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

sometimes i remember that gojo wanted to tell geto “we’ll meet again, right?” just before he died but forced himself not to knowing it would have cursed him and then i start thinking about how kind and thoughtful gojo is as a character and how he hasn’t been able to lean on another human being since geto defected and then i want to . Scream

[hrokkall]

The Scrybes are divorced but they’ve never been married but are also dating but aren’t because they’re still in the pining stage (they’re too busy killing each other to deal with feelings on the matter). You understand. Send post

[iheartbookbran]

I feel like with this whole Liam Payne situation and the resurgence of 1D content (which I’ll be lying if I said I haven’t been enjoying) it’s easy to forget what a real tragedy this is—because obviously I don’t know any of these men personally nor will I ever, but the 5 of them where still incredibly important to me in a very dark and yet very formative period of my life, and they deserve that recognition on my part at least. Growing up I very rarely thought about how the 1D members were very close in age with me, only a couple of years older, yet while I was living the last years of my childhood protected by my parents, they were literally plucked from their homes, overworked to the bone and thrown to the wolves.

Liam became an abuser and an addict, there’s no denying that, but it’s very hard for me to think that the boy I used to eagerly watch videos of everyday when I was a teen started off that way—and this isn’t me trying to put my nostalgia above the pain of his victims at all, I’m just pointing out how the cycle of abuse perpetuated by the industry can only end up ruining lives. Liam’s life absolutely did not have to end the way it did. Ultimately Maya Henry and the rest of his victims don’t deserve to be blamed for this, they should receive nothing but compassion and empathy from us, and so should Liam’s family, especially his son.

I think I will, bearing that in mind, allow myself to mourn Liam, and the girl I used to be and that he was such a huge part of. I can never be that girl again, I’ve lost and gained too much over the years to ever be her again.

I will also allow myself to mourn the rest of the 1D boys too, because while I don’t want anything bad to ever happen to them, they aren’t those boys anymore, the pedestal they used to occupy no longer exists in my heart, but a part of my love for them will always be there.

[abbey-abdominal]

would u still love me if I was a worm would u still love me if I had nothing to offer u if I couldn’t talk to u or cry to u or touch u would u still love me if i essentially was not the same as I started out w/ u would u still love me even if u hated bugs and I was a jester girl and u were a ragdoll girl and we’ll never be the same after letting ourselves be vulnerable with each other and exposing our innards would u still