#but also important to remember that anon is almost certainly not genuine

[ourpickwickclub]

Yes Blake was away for her birthday and the extended family celebration last year, but that is very rare and also does not mean they did not celebrate together at some point. Anons point is also a little missed because I remember many asks at the time dragging Blake for not being there, so he definitely does get it too. I always try to remember that there are a lot of moving parts to their schedules and many we know nothing about. How many times has he flown in just for her birthday? (And even then people often complained he didn’t stay long enough!) So, if he didn’t do that this year, can we not just assume that was a decision they were both comfortable with and there may have also been reasons we don’t know about? I get that some anons may not think his reasons for missing things are as valid, but we should keep in mind that we are just spectators and ones with very little information at that. Sometimes it seems we project an unrealistic fantasy onto their relationship and then get disappointed when their actions don’t live up. I’ve certainly missed my partners birthday for other things and vice versa and we don’t live in two states or have 1/3 of what they have going on. Not everything has to be some grand gesture, particularly 8+ years into a relationship, for it to still be a wonderful relationship that both people genuinely show up for and support/feel supported by the other. They seem to have it worked out quite well imo and our bickering on a blog, even if is done in an effort to protect them, is just that.

I’m pretty sure it all has to do with joint planning. Gwen almost missed Blake’s after last Voice party. But when she somehow got there, Blake was so happy and that tells me that they decided that the gig money was more important than the party but he was just ecstatic that she somehow made it work anyway. His voice in that clip when he’s talking to her is so soft and sweet. 

But when you play out these scenarios, it makes so much more sense. Gwen gets an offer for $1 million to play a gig not far from home. San Francisco. And tells Blake she’s going to turn it down because it will conflict with his last voice. And Blake says some little party is not worth $1 million. Take the gig. Gwen plots and figures out how to make it all work anyway. They get the best of both worlds, the gig money and she made it to the party. 

- B

[yuikomorii]

People who are hating Ayato are trying to be different way so bad frfr. He’s not more hate-worthy than any of the other guys because they were all abusive after all, even Azusa.

At first I thought he was annoying af (I thought everyone was annoying tho) but after watching him grown in other games I came to the conclusion that Ayato is a great character. He acts childish as a coping mechanism because this guy has been locked inside almost his entire life having to study and prepare for being heir, so his childhood has been really taken away from his, I really can’t put the blame on him atp.

He acts immature sometimes but bffr so do all the others. Ayato is capable of a bunch of things and very prone to change into a better person. I would truthfully say that he’s a very emotionally mature person given that he takes responsibility, owns his mistakes, shows empathy, admits when he needs help or when he’s burning out and isn’t afraid of showing his vulnerable side. That anon who insulted Yui for choosing Ayato over “a man like Ruki” undoubtedly didn’t understand Ayato and neither Ruki. I don’t want to get the Ruki stans mad but this guy is an enormous hypocrite who gets satisfaction out of people’s despair, is that really what anyone would consider “the perfect man”? Besides Yui fits with Ayato way more and I would rather say that Ayato is the man Ruki will never be.

// Everyone certainly has different tastes, therefore it's okay to dislike a character, but to hate one is already quite puerile. I don't get why insulting fictional characters would make anyone feel better about themselves.

In all honesty, I have always liked Ayato's childish side. Even Yui admits loving when he acts that way and that’s because he’s genuinely adorable. If someone became so comfortable with me to the point that they asked me to pat their head, I would feel happy, lol. There are people who don't want to have their privacy invaded but they should understand that 99% of heroines always like when their love interests get clingy and want affection from them, so it’s not anyone’s fault they can’t relate to them.

As for maturity, that’s something you gain from experience and it’s also more like a form of professionalism. Nobody is mature all the time and what someone might label as “immature” could be, from another perspective: fun-loving, counter-cultural and so on. In Ayato’s case, his immaturity comes from poor impulse control because he never received the life lessons that would have helped him understand when certain behaviors are inappropriate. I do agree that once he experiences certain things, he becomes very emotionally mature and that side was best shown in LE and especially in CL. 

Speaking about Ruki, I remember Rejet describing him in an official book as a fake person, which is in fact not a lie, haha. He’s truly a manipulative character, who plays multiple roles so as to get what he wants. I’m glad Yui didn’t fall for him in Ayato’s MB route because the Ruki presented there wasn’t his real version, he was only acting nice to lure Yui. I can’t deny that he is able of being boyfriend material after you conquer his heart but I do admit that Ayato is actually a better version of Ruki. Having a lot of knowledge and being a good strategist doesn’t make you the dream guy of every girl, there are more important things out there.

One of the main reasons why I ship Ayayui is that they are both brave, bold, authentic, and mentally strong, and people like this need to stick together. I like how neither of them is afraid to confront or even disagree with Karlheinz; Yui's "I'll be the one to decide my life and future." (DF) and Ayato's "I don't need your powers, I choose my own destiny." (CL) are two of the most powerful words ever spoken in Diabolik Lovers because they demonstrate that they will not allow themselves to be Karl's or anyone’s puppets. Both of them may be dumb at times, but being badass can take many forms; it isn't just about fighting an enemy or devising elaborate plans.

[alittlefrenchtree]

I just want to clarify something for the anon, I see it's a common misunderstanding and I might not explained myself in a good way. When I talk about Nick's haters I'm not talking about people saying they are not gonna watch the movie, they are free to do that and say it. The haters for me are all those people that said they're not gonna read the book but then they read it just to make post about it making fun of it, the people that say "sorry nick i'm not gonna follow you on this one" and then go on to stay updated on every movement about the movie, commenting on every new clip or picture just to say something mean. How many post attract hate for Nick and some of them are from his own fans? If you say you are not gonna talk about the movie and then you're more updated on it than the fans and you have always a mean thing to say then you're a hater. And this doesn't only happen with TIOY... I've seen people distance themselves from the actors, they said they only gonna talk about the characthers and yet you can always find a comment from them when Nick goes somewhere and they have to make fun of his outfit. Same happens with Tzp on other occasions. I know that I should find only people that i like but for how the socials works and how much hate there is, it's almost impossible to remove it completely from my view and I don't see why everyone encourage the drama and the hate instead of working togheter to make people realize what they're doing.

I do agree with you with most extend. I guess it's also depends on what you see as hate. In what you're describing, I see people getting bored and looking for attention and being "mean" often get you more attention than being "nice". I see people trying to stay "relevant" in a fandom which very often lead to controversial behaviors. I see people trying to put themselves above others, pretending they're smarter or have better tastes when some of them will probably be watching the movie all the same. It's saddening that it brings only negativity around Nick's (and Taylor's) name but like I said, most of this are really fandom drama for me and not something that really concern them as people. I also know there are other stuff (maybe rooted in this, idk?) that goes too far when it gets to their personal lives, but it's another subject entirely for me.

I certainly don't see making fun of his red carpets looks as hate, as commenting on people clothes is the very purpose of red carpets and photo calls and I do it myself occasionally. Someone publicly saying he's ugly would be problematic. Someone saying (in a funny) they think his outfits for event are rarely a hit is quite different.

What is delicate is when people who want to express genuine opinions about a movie/project they aren't excited about, or they don't like the idea for this or that reasons or they didn't like get jumped at as if they were posting messages to trash it every two hours. Because people have been on protective mode and are tired of seeing negative stuff and don't want to bother when they just want to be happy -- which is understandable -- but it's also annoying for people who just want to share opinions about movies.

Obviously I'm not encouraging obsessively talking about something you claim to don't like or not to be interested it. I don't post much about tioy for this very reason even if i will watch it (with wine). But it's important that we still allow ourself to express opinions towards art and performances, even if they're on the negative side. And honestly, I'm not complaining because I never have any problem, because it's quite easy for me to do it here, on my own space when there's no character limitations for me to explain myself. I've said that it took me a while to appreciate Nick's performance as Henry ; I've said that Mary & George could have been better and people have never call me a hater (maybe trolls did but they don't count so I don't remember). They were curious to know why and willing to engage in a conversation to understand. I guess it's not only about finding your people but also finding the right space to say things, knowing that it isn't always the right time to stay stuff, and also remembering who you're talking to when you do.

As about why people aren't working together to make people realize what they're doing... I'm pretty sure it's because it never works? I've been in many fandoms on many different platforms (some of them don't exist anymore) and it really never works. It's already a huge task to have a clean space without (too much) negativity when the said space has moderators and admins and written rules. I think it's pretty much impossible on public social like twitter or tumblr. Only following neutral source accounts on public social (and not looking at for you pages and tags) and joining a discord server with only your close fandom friends would the closest thing to a clean experience.

All of that being said, I do appreciate all of you staying as polite as polite and trying to explain yourself again to avoid misunderstanding. I think it's really precious on the Internet these days. It must have been a tiring day scrolling through your dash today if you're following me but luckily I don't do that very often.

💜

[1101001]

THE GIRL WHO FLEW DOWN THE STAIRS _

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‘ the story of akashi meeting you and all the events after that made him realize he was falling for you ’

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character .. akashi seijuurou

word count .. 1.3k

tags .. fem!reader who is energetic but also thoughtful and likes to learn (as requested) , lowkey pining? , s h o g i , written from akashi pov , requested by the lovely bean anon <3 

Akashi’s first impression of you wasn’t anything bad. It wasn’t exactly good either. It was certainly memorable though. ‘The girl who flew down the stairs, knocking him onto the ground, and landing on top of him with a thump’ is how he remembers you. 

The moment was almost cliche. If your eyes had met and lingered on each other, both aware of the position you were in but not moving away, then it possibly would’ve been a scene straight out of some cheesy romance novel. 

Instead, you seemingly bounced straight up upon impact, not even bothering to spare Akashi a second glance. You proceeded to give him a quick apology, running down the next flight of stairs immediately after.

It was definitely one of the odder interactions Akashi had with his fellow students at Rakuzan High, but it amused him nonetheless and made him notice you much more often around campus. Even though you weren’t in any apparent rush anymore, you still radiated this energy that was all bubbly and seemingly ready to burst. 

It brought a small smile on his face every time he saw you, bouncing along hallways without a care in the world, chattering away with your friends. Sure you seemed like the typical happy-go-lucky person, but Akashi couldn’t help but see you as a bit more unique.

Your second interaction with Akashi was an interesting one too, in Akashi’s opinion at least. 

The basketball team had just won a tournament the other day, so Akashi was free this afternoon. He had decided to go challenge some shogi club members to a few games. 

In the middle of one of those games, you walked into the club room.

Akashi didn’t think you were part of the club, and his suspicions were confirmed when another member of the club went to ask if you needed anything. Akashi was definitely not eavesdropping, no he was paying attention to his game (the one he knew he would easily win anyway) when you pulled out an envelope and he happened to overhear you telling the club member that someone asked to meet you. 

Nobody in the room came forward to claim they were the one who sent the letter though. 

After a few awkward, silent moments, you moved to take a seat with some of the other club members. It was an action that surprised Akashi. He figured you would’ve just left because the whole did seem like a waste of time. However, you just sat there asking some club members to teach you how to play. 

Akashi could sense genuine curiosity in you and, needless to say, it intrigued him. It seems like there’s more to the “girl made of energy” than he originally thought.

The clock ticked, and a few rounds later, Akashi decided it was time to head home. Saying his formal goodbyes, he walked out of the clubroom. 

He didn’t expect you to come running after him, almost slamming into him again in the process. 

“You shouldn’t run around school so much, you know. You could end up bumping into people and maybe even hurting them.” The words left Akashi’s lips sounding a lot more teasing and flirtatious than he intended.

You blushed and started rambling out apologies. ‘Cute’ Akashi thought. 

His brain froze. 

Wait. Cute? How-

“Anyway um.. you left your notebook back there…” you said, holding out what was indeed his notebook out towards him.

“Oh…” was all he could say. He rarely forgot his things, especially things as important as his notebook. It seems his mind must’ve been too distracted by... other things. “Thank you L/n-san.”

He saw a slight shock on your face. “You know my name?” 

His brain froze yet again. How was he supposed to answer this question without seeming like a stalker?

“Well yes…” he started before you cut him.

“Didn’t expect the Akashi Seijuurou to know my name.”

He scoffed at that. “I think I’d know the name of the girl who jumped down the stairs and knocked me to the ground.”

“Again, I’m really sorry about that…” you said with a smile, although Akashi could see the guilt that lingered behind your eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he quickly said. “I was just…”

He was just what? Flirting? Was he actually flirting? Him. Akashi Seijuurou. Flirting??

“…you know,” he finished quietly.

You didn’t say anything in response but instead looked at him with a peculiar sort of gaze. 

“Um.. hate to make things awkward by asking this but… were you the one who sent me this?” You held up the envelope Akashi saw earlier.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Oh… okay then.” Was it just Akashi’s imagination or did he hear a sliver of disappointment in your tone? “I suppose you don’t know who it is either right?”

He shook his head.

A lot of thoughts rushed through his mind. Did you actually expect him to send you a love letter? Did you hope it was him? 

He sensed you were about to leave though, so before he could regret it, he asked you, “Why do you want to know who sent it anyway?”

Your eyes widened slightly at the question.

“I understand the curiosity and wanting to know who it is but… if they didn’t show up, why are you still waiting?” He clarified.

“Akashi-san, you’ve never confessed to someone have you?”

He gave a slight nod.

“Well, I don’t see why you’d need to,” you mumbled more to yourself than him. Clearing your throat, you continued, “The thing is, confessing takes a lot of courage. And writing this letter asking me to meet them here would’ve taken a whole lot of that courage already. I think that, if they were able to go that far, then I should at least hear them out right?”

That… surprised Akashi. 

“But then again, there’s always a possibility this is just a prank,” you added as an afterthought. 

Unsure of what to say, he just nodded. “It is possible, considering how long you had to wait.”

You smiled, “The wait was fine though. I had fun learning shogi.” 

You actually had fun learning how to play? Looking back, it did seem like you were enjoying yourself… 

It’s strange. Akashi realized just how much his view of you changed in one afternoon. Earlier, you were that bubbly, energetic girl bouncing through the halls. Now, you were this thoughtful and kind person who liked to learn. You also said you had fun playing shogi, which nearly made Akashi’s heart skip a beat.

Oh. 

Oh.

He gets it now. The reason his brain was acting all slow was you. With that thought, everything became clearer. 

Now he wishes that love letter really was a prank.

“Ah Akashi-san, I think I have to go home soon,” you said, holding up your phone. “You’re heading out too right? Wanna walk with me?”

He blinked in surprise but quickly agreed.

“Great, just let me get my things first-” And with that you rushed back into the club room.

Akashi stood staring at the empty hallway, still caught up in his thoughts and trying to process what just happened between you two just a few seconds ago.

When you came back out with your things, he couldn’t help but smile softly. The two of you fell into conversation easily, and by the time you walked out of the school gates, you were still in a talk that showed no signs of nearing an end.

He wanted to continue walking and talking like this, but there was a car and a driver waiting for him in the exact opposite direction of where you were headed.

“Well, goodbye then L/n-san,” he said, hoping the reluctance wasn’t obvious.

You smiled in response. “Goodbye Akashi-san. It was nice talking to you.”

With that the two of you went your separate ways. Throughout the car ride home, Akashi could think of nothing but you. It would seem… he has taken quite the liking to you.

He isn’t sure what’ll happen next, but he’s looking forward to seeing you again and hopefully, talking more with you too.

. . .

note .. THIS CAME OUT LONGER THAN ORIGINALLY INTENDED but anyway i actually enjoyed writing this,,, yk all the stuff potentially going thru akashi’s mind when he has a crush intrigues me and uhh i hope u guys liked this and if u do PLS LMK WHAT U THINK !! it would legit mean the world if u guys did <3

[animeomegas]

Omega!Obey Me characters forgetting a mating anniversary

Anon: reactions to their alpha missing an anniversary? or you could switch it and do reactions to realizing they forgot an anniversary. either or !

Anon part 2: hi! i’m the anon from the anniversary request. i was thinking maybe the obey me! fandom? whichever characters you like. my exams are coming to an end so i’m looking forward to spending hours on that app during the summer 😤😤 i hope you’re doing well ! 💕

(Hey hey!! I’m going to do their reactions to forgetting a mating anniversary, because they’ve been alive a long time, I imagine it would happen at least one hehe. Let’s see~)

Warnings: Mention of sex in Asmo’s section

Lucifer – He denies it at first. He can’t have forgotten, he would never forget something so important, you must have the date wrong. His response is very likely to make his alpha either more angry or more upset, and he inadvertently blows the whole thing out of proportion because he struggles to admit that he’s wrong. But when he realises that he is wrong? That he was so caught up in paperwork for Diavolo he did forget? It’s a hard pill to swallow. He would probably buy his alpha some expensive flowers as an apology of sorts, but unless he’s been in a relationship with his alpha for several hundred years, I don’t see him directly apologising. He does feel guilty, but he really finds it hard to articulate. The upside is that it’s extremely unlikely that he’ll ever do it again. He’s checking four times every week at least now that he hasn’t missed any important dates by mistake.

“Our anniversary is next week, my beloved, you must have confused the dates.”

Mammon – Mammon metaphorically shits himself when he realises he forgot an anniversary. His scent is pure, unadulterated panic. His first instinct is to plan an anniversary event that moment. Hell’s Kitchen must still be open right? He tries to pull his alpha with him right that second. If that doesn’t work, he starts to panic that he’s ruined the most important thing in his life. This is when the begging starts. He says sorry about a hundred times, will get on his knees, offer whatever you want as long as you forgive him. Mammon is actually a very compassionate person who doesn’t like upsetting his loved ones, so it’s very hard to stay mad at him. Unfortunately, he’s not great at keeping track of dates, so it might happen again. The best thing to do is organise something together and give him a few reminders when that date’s coming up.

“Oh shit! Er, Hell’s Kitchen is still open right?? I’ll buy you whatever you want, we’ll order one of everything, does that work?”

Leviathan – He almost certainly forgets because of some game event or new releases. And to make everything worse, at first he acts like the game and event was more important than the anniversary and he thinks it’s a legitimate excuse that you can’t argue with. He realises pretty quickly after the event finishes that he’s completely alone because you’re mad at him. He turns to tell you everything about the game but you don’t want to listen to him?? He sulks in his room for a while. What pushes him to apologise is when he sees you hanging out with other people instead of him. He growls away the other person, pulling you into his room and sobbing angrily against you, asking why you love other people more than him. He apologises then, desperate to have his best friend and lover back with him. He might do it again, but he learns pretty quickly to just communicate when he wants to partake in a special gaming event and then he never forgets again.

“W-Why don’t you love m-me, like you l-love him?! I’m sorry, p-please don’t leave!”

Satan – He feels guilty, but he handles it well. He is phenomenal at apology dates. He organises the perfect romantic date, taking into consideration his alpha’s likes and integrating them. If you have a favourite romantic novel, you know he’s going to recreate a date scene with you. If you have a favourite restaurant, he’s booked the best table and ordered a bouquet of your favourite flowers for the centrepiece. It’s very hard to stay mad at Satan, especially because it’s very out of character for him to forget a date so important.

“If you want any more drinks, just let me know. I want you to enjoy this evening as much as possible.”

Asmodeus – He also deals with it fairly well, even if he can’t believe that he forgot! He’s honest and upfront about forgetting and expresses regret. He will definitely try to seduce you as an apology though, offering to let you do whatever you want to him. If that doesn’t work, next step is a joint pampering session! He’s pretty good at conveying a genuine apology without making anything too dramatic. I think it’s unlikely that he would do it again, because he loves, loves, loves anniversaries!!! He genuinely can’t believe that he forgot because he normally plans everything months in advance.

“Oh! I can’t believe that I… Oh dear, here come to my room and let me make it up to you…”

Beelzebub – He’s heartbroken that he forgot! He is so upset. He apologises immediately, looking like he’s on the verge of tears, and he asks you to tell him what he needs to do to make it up to you. He doesn’t offer up solutions, he wants his alpha to pick something, so he knows they’ll enjoy it. The only thing he definitely does immediately, is offer whatever food he’s been saving for them to share with him while they discuss. He will likely ask for advice from some of his brothers, probably Belphie (who doesn’t help) and Asmo (who’s slightly more helpful). He may do it again, but he always tries his hardest to make your anniversaries as special as he can.

“Here, you can have my ice cream… I’m really sorry… What can I do?”

Belphegor – He doesn’t think it’s a big deal that he forgot, because you can both just rearrange it, right? I think it’s pretty unlikely that his alpha takes kindly to that opinion. It takes Belphie a little while to realise that a) he’s in the wrong and b) he needs to apologise. He’s not good at planning, but when he genuinely puts his mind to it, he’s actually pretty good at giving gifts. He buys something you’ve been wanting for a while, he might even put a sticky bow on top if you’re upset enough. He gives you the gift while mumbling apologies. The second you forgive him, he drags you to take a nap with him because he hasn’t been sleeping well since you’ve been mad at him. He’s pretty likely to do it again at least a few times, but he learns not to be such a dick about it eventually.

“Oh, I guess I must have forgot… We can just go tomorrow; I want to take a nap.”

Diavolo – He is gutted that he forgot. He organises the most extravagant apology dinner possible (which is pretty extravagant, because he’s a king, very dramatic, and very in love all at once). He gives a dramatic speech about how there’s no excuse, how he never wants you to think he doesn’t value your relationship etc. At this point, I imagine most people would be begging him to chill out and promising that they already forgave him. Either way, I don’t think it would ever happen again, especially because he tells all of his staff to remember your anniversary and always remind him the week before. He isn’t going to let this happen again.

“My love, I will never forgive myself for hurting you in this way. I will never stop trying to make it up to you, even if it takes me a millennium.”

Barbatos – This would never happen. He is amazing at keeping organisational data in his brain, especially data that means so much to him. Also, he can see the future, so, even if by some miracle he did forget, he would see your future reaction and know in advance that he forgot. Barbatos isn’t perfect, but he’s not one to forget important dates.

Simeon – Simeon is another one who is heartbroken that he’s treated his most beloved one this way. He feels awful. He does tear up a little bit if the relationship is old enough. Simeon makes a huge effort to create some adorable picnic date, cooking baskets and baskets of food and picking the most beautiful park. He brings flowers and bunting and a little cake that he ices with an apology in an unbelievably cute handwriting style. It’s very, very hard not to forgive him when he’s so apologetic and good at making you smile. He goes out of his way to make sure he never upsets his alpha in this way again. 

“My beloved, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I will seek to make it up to you for as long as you’ll let me.”

Solomon – He doesn’t care that much about anniversaries but he’s not dumb enough (like some other people on this list *cough*) to think that saying that to your face is a good idea. He definitely tries to play it off as though he had something planned all along and that making you think he forgot was part of the plan. He then scrambles to plan things last minute, and he’s quite good at covering up his mistake. If his alpha doesn’t believe him, he makes up for his mistake with expensive and rare gifts. He will find something special for his alpha. A first edition copy of your favourite book or limited edition merchandising of your favourite media, something like that. He knows the excitement will help dull any negative emotions you have towards him. I could definitely see him doing it multiple times, but if his alpha ever expressed genuine hurt long-term about that particular habit, he would readjust his priorities. He’s not a complete asshole after all, he just sometimes has a hard time pulling his head out of said asshole.

“Here, it took me three days to track down someone who had a copy, but I finally found a first edition for you. I hope you will accept this as a token of my apology, my dearest.”

[mobagehelllocal]

“lucky ending”

First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much.

-- from Anonymous

A/N:  Hi Anon! Sorry for taking so long! Thank you so much for liking my work and for sending in this request! Since this was submitted before I opened my headcanons request, I’ll assume you wanted a scenario! It reminded me of a particular Japanese middle school/high school tradition... I don’t want to spoil it, but I do hope you enjoy it!

edit- additional pieces: ver i (this), ver ii (???), ver iii (rook & lilia)

--

“Hey, did you know?” 

You looked up from your meal to see a grinning Ace. 

“Well... you haven’t told me what this is about Ace.” you finally said in a dry tone. “So, no—I wouldn’t.” Beside you, Epel’s lips curled up in amusement. 

"Are you sassing me?” Ace squinted at you.

“Who could say.” you shrugged your shoulders. “Anyways, what is it?” Ace studied you for a couple more seconds before he too seemed to ‘shrug’ it off and continue.

“There’s actually a tradition in Twisted Wonderland during graduation season.” Ace’s smile turned wicked, as he raised his hand and tugged at a button on his shirt.

“Please don’t strip. Nobody needs to see that.” you said—Deuce promptly choked on his food and Grim snickered beside you. On his other side, Jack sighed as he patted the man on his back. 

“It’s not that!” Ace scowled. “Sweet Queen, if you keep going on like that, I swear—”

“Sorry, sorry.” you raised your hands—palms up. “So, what is it?” 

“This button.” he pointed at the second button from the top. “Well, for NRC, they go with the fifth button—but either way...” Sebek leaned forward in interest.

“Is this the button tradition?” his eyes sparkled, “you see, I was thinking of giving—” 

“It doesn’t work like that Sebek.” Ace said—at which the Diasomnia student immediately deflated in response. 

"People give this out at graduation.” Ace continued. “It’s like the last chance to confess--before you leave the school life behind.”  

‘Last chance huh...’ you thought, as you remembered Crowley’s words from the other day.

“In my generosity, I have found a way to bring you back home... but...” the Headmaster peered at you with glowing eyes. “Something tells me you don’t want that anymore.”

“And because I’m so generous... I will let you decide what you wish to do.” his eyes brightened behind his mask. “I hope to hear from you soon...”

"Why not the first button?” you couldn’t help but ask. Ace, who had just finished recounting how many buttons he had given out in his last graduation was startled by your question. 

“Err...” Ace scratched the back of his head. “I dunno?” 

“It’s the second button, because on the regular school uniform... it’s closest to the heart. Because graduations at NRC are in the summoning robes—that means the fifth button.” Jack finally spoke up, “what normally happens is... someone confesses, and the other party decides whether or not to give the button. When the other party gives their button—it means they return the love of the person who confessed.” Grim’s face twisted at that. 

“In conclusion... disgusting.” Epel shrugged his shoulders, before he shot Jack a look. “I’m surprised you, of all people know that.” Jack’s whole body twitched, and his tail bristled in response. 

“So. you were being a little shit.” Deuce told Ace.

“Yeah Ace, you’re an asshole.” Grim huffed.

“Not true, all of the people who wanted my heart, got it~” Deuce grimaced in disgust at his roommate’s response. On his other side, Sebek shifted upright.

“I don’t care what you all say, I’m giving—” 

“Sebek, no.” 

As your friends erupted into chaos your hands fell on top of your second button and you fiddled with it thoughtfully.

--

“Alright, what is up with you two?” Riddle turned around to glare fiercely at the squabbling Ace and Deuce. At his movement, the long cloak of the summoning robes shifted around his legs.

“Nothing, Dorm Leader!” the two immediately squeaked out, and Riddle sighed—exasperated, but continued to eye them suspiciously. As a fourth year, Riddle had no need to visit campus as often as he did. Ace was already made the Dorm Leader, and Deuce was his Vice Dorm Leader once the two had entered their third years but—

‘I know Trey told me not to worry…’

-

Cater and Trey had long since graduated from Night Raven College—but the former was still ever so interested in what his friends were doing. He had easily convinced Trey and Riddle to go on call that night to catch up. It was during that call that Riddle had confessed his fears about leaving the fate of Heartslabyul to Ace and Deuce.

“Wow~ Riddle is much more of a mother hen compared to Trey~” Cater had laughed, delighted. Riddle had instantly puffed his cheeks, ready to defend himself. Trey—sensing the argument that was about to come—quickly placated him.

“I don’t think it’s wrong of you to care so much, Riddle.” Trey had said, in his same soothing tone. “You’ve held onto the dorm leadership for three straight years… it’s natural that you worry about how Heartslabyul will do… but… I believe—the dorm will be what our juniors make of it.” 

“That’s my worry.” Riddle grumbled in response.

“Well—the two of them did shadow you as Vice-Dorm Leaders during my fourth year, yes?”  

“…Yes.”

“I think they know what they can and cannot do by now.” Trey consoled, “Have a little bit more faith in them—after all, you were the one who entrusted the Dorm’s future to them in the first place.”

“I suppose…”

“If all else fails,” Cater chimed in, “[Name] will be there, won’t she?”

“I’d like it if I didn’t have to rely on her for the two of them but…” Riddle unconsciously smiled at the thought of you. “but yeah… she… she certainly had a hand in how Heartslabyul changed to be the way it is today...”

“Ah~ I’m a little jealous you still have an excuse to see [Name]~” Cater hummed. 

“I—” Riddle felt his cheeks flush at that, “It’s not like that!”

“Huh~? I didn’t say anything though~” Cater cackled knowingly. Riddle tensed, and Trey only sighed in amusement as the red head began to lecture the older man.  

-

Despite Trey’s (and admittedly, Cater’s weaker) attempts at getting him to be more hands off—he continued to conduct surprise visits to the campus. Primarily to keep a check on both Ace, Deuce and how they were currently running his beloved dorm. He knew it almost always made the two panic, but he just wanted to ensure that—they were doing fine. Riddle worried endlessly— 

-

“I don’t think it’s as surprising as you think.” You had told him once, a giggle on your lips. “Riddle… despite everything… you still genuinely want the best out of people. It’s the way you are.” He had flushed red when you put it that way, but he was incredibly appreciative of the fact that you noticed. He was also happy that you didn’t think it as something he should change immediately. 

“Ace and Deuce—I can see why you worry but…” you had patted his hands gently, and shot him the same sweet grin you had given him that time—about two years ago—after his embarrassing Overblot. “You’re also improving yourself. Take it step by step—little by little, and I’m sure one day you won’t think twice about whether or not those two can do justice to the Heartslabyul in your vision.” 

-

Seeing you as often as he did was just a bonus—or so he’d like to think. He hasn’t quite admitted to himself, how incredibly fond he has grown of your presence, and how much some of his visits was more to see you again—rather than visiting his juniors.

He could feel the way his lips unconsciously curled up just at the thought of you. He quickly turned away from his juniors—if only because he could not stop smiling. 

“Come to think of it…” he mused, pretending that this was just a thought that came to mind—and not something he’d been eagerly looking forward to— “Where is [Name]?” When there was no response, he felt his smile drop and his brow twitched at their silence. 

“Come now—if there’s anytime you’re going to be quiet…” he turned to look at them, only to realize that they had incredibly guilty expressions. “… Is something wrong? Is she hurt?”

“Well—no.” Deuce rapidly stuttered out, “It’s just—well—” he glanced hopelessly at Ace, whose eyes shifted around in an uncomfortable manner. 

“Err—it’s a little hard to explain…”

“What is going on?” He demanded, his expression growing dark as he thought back to the last time, he had seen you. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with you—you had greeted him as kindly as you normally had. You had looked healthy to him and nothing had seemed to be weighing too much on your mind… “Tell me right now.”

-

“Thank you, for coming with me.” You had smiled, “but you can leave me here, really.”

“Do you even know why Crowley called you?” Ace asked, his hands crossed behind his head when he noticed the most subtle shift in your expression.

“[Name]?” he arched a brow, and you shook your head, a smile bloomed on your face at his concern.

“No, it’s… it should be nothing.” You looked down at Grim. “You’ll stay with them, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” The monster scowled. “I don’t know why Crowley wanted just you… It’s not like you won’t tell us after…”

“That’s true.” Deuce had agreed easily.

“I will tell you if it’s important.” Ace’s eyes narrowed at the way you phrased your sentence, and when you slipped into the office—it was only Ace who stayed, his gaze fixated on the door.

“Is something up Ace?” Deuce turned to see that the Heartslabyul Dorm Leader hadn’t moved from his position by the door.

“I think she’s not telling us something.” Ace said, before he approached the door and pressed his ear against it.

“Ace! That’s rude!” Deuce moved to pull him away, but Ace shook him off.

“Sssh! I can’t hear!” he hissed at Deuce before he leaned harder against the door.

“—I have found a way to bring you back home—” Ace and Grim immediately stiffened. Deuce looked on, wary of their reactions.

“What…” he swallowed, “what did you overhear?” 

-

“She still hasn’t said anything.” Ace said after he told a frozen Riddle the story. “and… well… none of us have the heart to bring it up.” 

“Well Grim certainly wanted to.” Deuce interjected. “But we figured… it was probably something we should wait for her to say… are you okay, Dorm Leader?”

“You don’t need to call me that.” Riddle replied immediately, before he exhaled. He raised his hand and pressed it against his forehead as he thought of the situation.

‘Of course, …of course, I should’ve thought of it.’ His hand fisted in his hair, as his brows furrowed. ‘This isn’t home to her this is… it’s the farthest thing from a home.’ He felt the blood drain from his face, and the minute shake of his hand at the realization.

-

Riddle made the two promise to not speak to you about it—and that he’d try to bring it up instead. Deuce looked like he wanted to protest. Riddle could understand—the three of you had a certain type of friendship that should mean that Ace and Deuce had a right to bring it up with you but… Ace had always been much more perspective than he actually let on, and agreed to let Riddle handle it.

Whether Ace understood the depth of Riddle’s feelings or not, was currently inconsequential given the circumstance. What Riddle needed to focus on—was speaking to you about the… issue.

No, it’s wrong to call it an issue—and neither is it a problem… It’s just… perhaps best called a big decision. One that Riddle knew your likely answer to, and how it’s not the answer he would want to hear.

In his defence, ever since coming back, Riddle did try to talk to you about it. He tried very hard to confront you—but whenever he’d try to tell you—he’d take one look at your smiling expression and think about how much he’d like this moment to last longer. ‘Just a little longer… Let me have their smile a little longer—’ because he knew that the moment, he brought it up—you might no longer smile at him.

Unfortunately, time is nobody’s friend—and during a break from his graduation practice, he ran into you.

“Oh, [Name].” he blinked in surprise before his eyes narrowed when he noticed that you weren’t smiling as usual. “Did something happen?” he asked, immediately anxious for you.

“Ah it’s…” you paused, and your expression grew even more distressed. “I don’t… know how to phrase it.” He grew cold at that—he had a general idea on where this conversation could head… Before he could get a word in, the doors to the Hall of Mirrors opened, and a bunch of other fourth years exited noisily.

“Do you want to talk somewhere else about this?” The slightest furrow in his brow, and the tiny down-turn curve of his lips expressed his concern for you. Your heart did a little leap, and you briefly got lost in his pretty grey eyes before you slowly nodded.

-

Your voice was soft as you explained the turmoil you’d been going through the past few days. 

“I… want to stay. I want to stay so badly that I keep coming up with excuses to do so but… at the same time… I know that this means I’ll be abandoning my family… my old life behind and…” you looked down at your hands, and Riddle’s frown only grew as your voice got shaky. “that’s unfair to them—isn’t it? That—I’ll just up… and leave… and say nothing.”

“If you want to stay, then just stay.” You didn’t look to be convinced, and Riddle felt his heart twist that he isn’t enough of a reason for you to stay.

“It sounds so easy, doesn’t it?” you chuckled, your tone low, “maybe my life here is certainly far better than anything else I could dream of but… the guilt will eat me alive. That I just turned away from them… It’s so selfish of me.”

“I don’t think it’s wrong for you to be selfish.” Riddle disagreed as he reached out towards you and held your hands. At the action, your eyes fell to your twined fingers, and you observed the gentle way in which Riddle rubbed the back of your hand. “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”  

“You think so?” your voice cracked, and he leaned forward so that you could see the honesty in those pretty grey eyes of his.

“I know so… and if you still feel guilty then allow me to bear it with you.” He took a deep breath before he slipped one hand away from you to tug at the fifth button of his summoning robes. Your eyes widened—stunned, as you recognized what he is about to do.

“Let me express to you my own selfish desire.” He pressed the button into your palms as he met your gaze evenly. “I love you [Name]—I want you to stay—so—can I be the reason you do?”

His deep red hair fluttered in the cool wind that passed through the open halls of the college. You could see sweat dribble down his temple, and the smallest shake of his bottom lip. He swallowed; his Adam’s apple bobbed. His own eyes peered and searched your gaze too—for any indicator of the answer you would choose to deem him with.

As you looked at Riddle, you knew that a part of you will always feel guilty about the choice you were about to make but—that honest affection in those eyes were enough for you to know that Riddle, as he is, was always going to be enough of a reason to stay.

“Yes…” you murmured, and Riddle’s nervous expression broke away for a joyous one—an expression that made your heart do a little dance. “Yes—I’d want you to be the reason I stay.”  

--

It took all your courage (and the fact that it was his graduation—Great Seven did he look so good in those robes—) to finally tell Leona about what Crowley had told you.

“Good riddance.”

You felt your face pale, and your soul—shatter at Leona’s reply.

“What… what did you say?” you stuttered, “Did you just really…?”

“I said good riddance.” Leona rolled those green eyes of his at you. “You can finally go home. You can finally stop bothering me.” His eyes turned poisonous—and you felt your whole body weaken. You would have dropped to your knees if Leona’s glare hadn’t frozen you in the first place.

“You…” you swallowed, “you don’t mean that… you don’t… right… Leona…?”

“Good—” his green eyes became murky with an emotion you couldn’t quite understand, “—riddance.” He then scoffed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Now leave me alone.”

“But—”

He began to walk away—but desperate—you grabbed him from behind. Your hands wrapped around his chest, as you clung to him as tight as you could.

“Herbivore... The hell are you doing?” Leona hissed as he moved to rip your hands off him. 

“Wait!” He froze at the command in your tone, and the way you pressed your head in between his shoulder blades.

“Let me... let me say something... Please...” 

‘Were you crying?’ Leona tensed; his tail flicked about in irritation—ready to confront anyone who made his woman cry—

He hissed at his own thoughts. 

“I’m not going to listen to your shit, woman.” He snapped, and he felt you flinch against him. Something deep and primal in him whimpered—because he knew he had terrified you.

He had to convince himself—this is for the best. This is for your sake. 

You were not his woman. You were not his mate. You should not have a future with him.

You were supposed to be leaving.

He wanted you to leave. 

It would be better that way.

You didn’t deserve the second prince. You didn’t deserve a rebel. You—

You deserved much better than him.

‘So please let me go.’ he thought, a little desperately, ‘because if you don’t... then I won’t be able to let go.’ 

“Leona... I... I really have no courage. I can’t even look you in the face because I’m...” He growled at that, and he felt you flinch again. “Let me do this...” He felt you move your hands, and you pressed something into his own palms. You curled your fingers around it, before you pulled away. 

“I want you to have this. If you won’t let me say anything... then please let me do this.” 

There was a brief silence—as you studied the way Leona remained tensed, his tail jerked around in irritation and your eyes shut in despair.

‘Of course... It’s Leona... what was I thinking?’ 

‘Of course, he wouldn’t want you to stay—of course—’ you realized your own foolishness. ‘Of course, he wouldn’t want you.’

“I’ll go. I’m sorry.” you said before you rushed off, as you tried, desperately not to make a sound as you cried.

Leona’s ears moved rapidly; despite your attempt to not make a sound—he could clearly hear you cry your heart out as you ran away from him.

“Tch…” he looked down at his hands, only for his brows to furrow in confusion. “This is… a button?”

“Does the herbivore…” He lifted his head to look off into the direction you took off in. “does she know what this means…?” His brow twitched in irritation; he pulled his hand back and got into a stance to throw the button away—but something in him couldn’t do it.

‘Are you really going to throw her heart away?’

“Shit!” He swore to himself as he threw a fist at the closest thing he could—one of the trees in the garden. He paused, as his eyes lingered on the patch of grass that he enjoyed taking naps on… with you.

He thought of all the things he would lose—

The way you smiled at him, despite how hopeless he was as a person. The way your skin felt against his own when he could get away with hugging you despite never saying those three words… The way you looked at him with acceptance—regardless of his glaring faults.

He thought of all the things he would never experience—

The way you would suit the crown of a princess—more than any other women he’d known. The way you could glow under the light of Afterglow Savanna’s sun. The love you two could’ve shared if he would just stop being such an asshole—“Stupid woman…” he growled low to himself, as he spun to give chase to you. His hand reached up to rip a certain button off his own robes. “I just can’t be selfless—”

‘Not when it comes to you.’

‘Not when I desperately need you.’

When he pushed open the doors of the Hall of Mirrors, Crowley turned around, startled.

“Kingscholar—?” the Headmaster gaped.

“Is that still connected to her world?”

“Yes but—what are you doing?” Crowley cried, alarmed as Leona rushed for the portal.

‘If there’s a god out there… if the ancestral spirits do exist… then please—’ he faltered at his own thoughts before he shook his head. ‘Please—don’t let me be late—’

-

“You’re back!” Your mother had only paused for a second, stunned when you popped out of the mirror in the living room, and fell to your knees. She quickly dropped down onto the ground before she reached for you and pulled you into her embrace.

“Mom—I’m—” you felt your eyes tear up, “I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.

“Oh… sweetie…” Your mother pulled back to cup your face in her hands as she studied your expression. “Never mind that—tell me what happened? I need to hear everything!”

You blinked rapidly and nodded. She brought you to the kitchen and sat you down as she whipped up a snack for you to eat as you recounted your adventures in Twisted Wonderland.

You were—baffled—she didn’t seem as terrified as you thought she would be. You had thought you would’ve come back to her crying—or, you don’t know—police in your house maybe? She was calm—and she was simply… interested in your story.

Like she knew all about it already—and she just… wanted to hear your point-of-view.

When you got to the part about Leona—you got all choked up. Regardless of how he treated you—you knew that a part of you would always love him. If anything—it would be something you would desperately cling onto, and in the depths of your heart—you will continue to nurture it. It was the only thing of him, you had left.  

“You loved him.” Your mother held your hands, and you shook your head as you gently corrected her.

“I’ll always love him, mom.” You felt tears hang onto your lashes. “I’ll always… wonder… ‘what if.’”

“Would you go back if you could? Would you stay with him?”

“I… I would but—it’s not like he wanted me.” Your lower lip trembled, and you felt your chin wrinkle at that. “He didn’t want me.”

“I think he did, sweetie.” Your mother wiped your tears away. “Leona is pretty dishonest to others… and especially to himself.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“He pretty much is.” And that’s when it dawned on you.

“Wait you—” you looked up at your mother with furrowed brows. “Why does it sound like you know him—? You—you haven’t met—”

That’s when the door swings open, and your father’s voice echoed in the house.

“We’re back!” You only had a moment to question what he meant by ‘we’ when he entered the dining hall with a familiar figure.

“Leona—?” Both males looked at you—surprised. Despite how happy you were to see both—your eyes naturally gravitated to Leona.

Your eyes met his, and he blinked slowly before a smirk crawled up his lips.

“Took you long enough.”

-

“Time isn’t exactly linear across two worlds.” Is the first thing Leona told you as he brought you to your room—or more recently referred to as his room. He dragged you onto the bed and pulled you onto his lap with relative ease—his fingers tangled in the cloth of your shirt. The only reason there was a distance between you two—was because of the way you Leona stared at you with a hungry fervour.

He looked at you like he was a starved man who had just caught sight of an oasis in the middle of a desert. There was also a difference in the way he held you—a certain desperation in the way his fingers pressed against your skin—as if making sure that you were no desert mirage. You had just seen him—but it felt as if he was seeing you for the first time in an unbearably long time.

“You entered the portal before I did.” Leona studied you with his vivid green eyes. “but when I went through the portal… I arrived a day after you were first taken to Twisted Wonderland.”

“Wait… so how long… did I miss out on?” you asked weakly.

“It’s been a year.” He replied quietly, and you looked at him—stunned. 

“That’s—you—” you cleared your throat. “why?”

“Why what?”

“Why—why wait? Why—why did you stay?” you whispered, “you could’ve just gone back—” He scoffed.

“That’s simple.” He stared at you evenly. “If I hadn’t waited for you I…” he paused. “I might have never seen you again.” You felt your eyes go wet, but you inhaled sharply as you resisted crying. He pulled you even closer to him, his arms wrapped around your waist. Though you tried to move away—it was futile, Leona was stronger than you.

“Why—I thought you said—”

“I tried to be selfless with you.” Leona confessed lightly, his eyes studied your face—the way your eyes glimmered, the way your lips pouted as you attempted to hold back your tears—you hadn’t changed from whence he last saw you but—

Having lived in a world without you for one year—only strengthened his resolve to be with you.

“I tried to be selfless with you.” Leona repeated, “but I’m sorry—I can’t be. I have to be selfish because—the future I want… it’s one I can only realize by your side so—” He moved his hand away from you only to move it to his pocket. When his fist opened, your eyes widened to see an elegant black button on his palm.

“I’ve waited a year to return my heart to you.” He murmured softly, as you began to cry in earnest. “Will you accept it?”

“Of course, I will—you big—asshole—” you cried, as you hit his chest. Leona could only chuckle, as he raised his other hand to brush your tears away.

“I deserved that.”

“Yes, you did.”

-

With your fingers laced with Leona, you went downstairs to meet up with your parents. Your mother cooed happily, while your father nodded gruffly at Leona.

“You promise you’ll take care of her, alright?” Your father eyed him, and Leona nodded.

“I will.” He promised.

“You will visit, won’t you? Or call through the mirror?” Your mother asked hopefully, and you looked at her surprised, before you glanced up at Leona in a questioning manner.

“So, you would never need to choose.” He dodged your gaze; a light flush rose to his cheeks. “I worked with Crowley and Malleus,” your eyes widened—he willingly worked with Malleus? “to establish a proper connection between your world and mine. I kept in contact with the Crowley who let you through the door in the first place… and now we’ve managed to keep the timelines properly linked.” He raised a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Basically… you’ll be able to keep in contact with your parents… or anyone else you wanted to keep in contact with in this world.”

“Leona…” you felt your eyes water at that.

“Don’t cry.” Leona reached down to wipe your tears away, “cry anymore—and your father will retract his blessing.” You looked at him, a little stunned—he didn’t seem like the type of person who’d ask for someone else’s blessing.

“Of course, I did.” Leona said as he figured out where your thoughts had headed, though he sounded slightly offended that you would think he would not have asked.

“It took him a year too.” Your mother said fondly while your father snorted. Leona swiftly cleared his throat before you could ask again.

“A story for another time.” He said way too quickly, before he offered you his hand again. “For now—” his green eyes softened as he met your eyes, and your fingers instinctively laced together once more.

“Shall we go home?” he gestured for the mirror that begun to glow. You smiled, and quickly jerked on his arm to pull him down. Surprised at the sudden motion, Leona’s face drew close to yours—and you leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek.

“Silly kitty,” you giggled, “I’m already home.” He speedily pulled back. Despite the grumpy expression on his face, you were delighted to see the flush rise to his cheeks once more.

“And I… I am too.” He murmured softly, and your smile slipped into something much more tender.

You were excited to see what the future would hold for you two. 

--

“Azul.” Azul blinked as he turned his head to the approaching Jade. He arched a brow at Jade’s bemused expression—the man rarely made that face. If Jade ever encountered something he didn’t understand, he was more likely to react to it with curiosity and excitement. So, for Jade to be confused—with the lightest flicker of worry… well, Azul immediately found himself to be anxious. 

“What is it?”

“According to one of our juniors, [Name] came by to ask for you earlier—but we were at graduation practice. They redirected her to your office to wait.” Jade’s brows furrowed. “Apparently… she looked quite distressed.” Azul felt himself frown immediately at that. 

“I was going there anyways because of this—” Azul raised his hand to present some documents. “I’ll speak with her.” Jade nodded; his expression looked a little bit more relieved.

“I’ll keep Floyd off for awhile then.” Jade decided, “there must be a reason why she specifically seems to want to speak to you.”

“Alright.” Azul agreed, before the two parted ways. He thought back to when he had met you earlier that day—you had been thrilled to see them. Floyd had happily picked you up and spun you around several times—before you needed to be saved by Azul and Jade. Shortly after that, you had to go attend class—at which point they bid you goodbye, with the promise of spending more time together, later.

Azul, Jade and Floyd had just returned to Night Raven College today for the graduation practice. They hadn’t seen you in person for quite a while because their internships took them far away from the College. Azul wasn’t particularly happy with it (none of them were, really—even you) but you had always known how important success was for Azul (especially him) so you had encouraged him to pick what he knew was the best choice for the future.

His heart sped up at the thought of how deeply you understood his feelings—and his desires. At that point, he promised that he would ensure—his future would be spent making you happy and that you would never be left wanting.

You will get the best from him because he knows how much you deserve it.

You deserved so much better than him—he knew that—he’s accepted it as an irrevocable truth. However—you had chosen to stay by his side, despite his past—and despite his inexcusable actions.

“Azul… I think you shouldn’t be ashamed of your past.” Your voice resonated in his mind, and he’s instantly brought back to that time the two of you quietly stood in front of his elementary school photo.

“After all, it’s because of that Azul—that you’ve become the Azul I see today and…” You turned to him with a tender smile that instantly made his heart soar like a flying fish and his eyes well up with tears.

“I think you should know—that the Azul before me today, is not as terrible as you like to believe.” Then you giggled, and his cheeks flushed red at your next words.

“It’s quite the opposite actually—you’re someone I can’t help but watch because… I think you’re amazing.”

So, he was going to do his best for you.

He was an inherently selfish person.

 You were someone he wanted to hold onto for as long as possible. He knew that maybe one day you’ll realize that he wasn’t worth it. He knew that it will hurt him—but he also knew that if that day comes, he wouldn’t stop you.

He’d let you go.

As selfish as he was—he knew you deserved for him to be selfless for once. Especially if it meant you being happier.

It would hurt so much but—knowing how much better you could probably have—he would do it. 

‘While you’re by my side…As long as you’re in my life… for however long I’m allowed too…’ 

Until the day that someone … or something—that was inarguably the better choice for you comes along— 

‘I’ll treasure you… take care of you… treat you like a Queen—’ 

He stopped right before his office doors, and briefly fiddled with his hair. He inhaled, before he pushed the doors open. You turned to look at him with a despondent expression.

“Azul.” You hiccupped, and his heart dropped to his stomach at seeing your tears. There’s a part of him that immediately goes into a cold fury—‘How dare anyone make you cry—’

“Shh… It’s alright.” He slid the door closed behind him, dropped the paperwork carelessly onto the ground and opened his arms.

You immediately took it as an invitation to delve into his arms. Your breath was shaky, but Azul’s familiar and fresh ocean scent immediately calmed you down. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and he rubbed one hand consolingly down your back. He slowly led you to sit down on the couch, and let you stay in his arms as he plotted a way to get back at whoever it was that made you show such a sad expression.

Once you pulled away, he immediately pulled out a handkerchief to pat away the wet tear tracks across your face.

“Are you alright?”

“I… yeah… just… I was… overwhelmed.” You said, breath still heavy. "I have something to tell you.” Azul hummed, as he moved to tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“The Headmaster... he’s found a way.” 

“A way...?” Azul cocked his head, not quite understanding what you meant.

“...” 

“...” At the sudden silence, Azul raised his head to see you look down at your hands. He noticed that you were trembling ever so slightly. Azul narrowed his eyes at such an action.

“[Name]?” 

You looked up; your eyes were glassy—with one blink you would probably start crying again. He could see the minute tremble of your jaw. 

“I can go home, Azul.” 

“That’s...” Azul blinked rapidly—stunned but at the same time—his heart tightened in his chest, and he automatically clenched his fists. 

‘Ah…’

‘I didn’t think it would happen so soon…’

‘I didn’t think I’d have to let go of you so quickly…’

‘I don’t want you to go.’ 

Azul was selfish—he has always known that he was selfish... but with you... he always tried to not be. 

He would be selfless with you.

He promised himself that much.

You had always been more than what he deserved—so how could he ask you to stay with him?

Knowing that—he knew what he had to say to you.

“You must be happy.” He finally managed to speak, and he prayed that you didn’t realize how shaky his voice got. He was barely able to keep himself from crying too. “You will go home, won’t you?” 

“Is that it?” you asked, heartbreak in your voice but he gritted his teeth in response. 

“Well... what else did you want me to say?” 

“I...” you stood up; your breath shaky. 

‘I wanted you to give me a reason to stay.’ went unsaid. 

“... Nothing. I just... came here to tell you.” you finally said, your voice soft. “I’ll... see you later Azul.” You turned quickly—but not fast enough for him to not see the tear that slipped down your cheek as you escaped Mostro Lounge’s VIP Room. 

“...” 

Azul laced his hands together, before he rested his forehead against his hands. A whimper left his lips, as he began to shake in his seat. 

“Tch...” 

His heart squeezed tight—and he idly wondered if this was the type of feeling that Floyd’s victims got. It hurt—it hurt so much. Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.

The one time he tried to be profoundly good—

The one time he tried to be selfless—

It was only right that he felt this much pain over it—after all—he always believed that he deserved it.

He struggled to remind himself how much this was for your sake. How this was better for you. Even if you began to hate him for it (and witch, did the thought of you despising him made another disgusting whimper slip out of his lips—), he’ll watch over you—only the best for you.  

-

When you rushed out of the room, you immediately slammed right into the twins. They are both briefly stunned by your expression, but just as quickly, you clung onto the closest twin—in which case, it was Floyd. The man immediately wrapped his arms around you. He began to coo comforting words to you as he shot a look at his twin. Jade’s eyes flickered between you and Azul’s shut door, before he ultimately decided to shuffle you and his brother into a nearby room. Once you were sat down, Jade quietly coaxed the story of what happened out of you.

Through your tears, you tell him. You grow a little terrified as both twins gain a quiet look of rage almost identical with Azul’s earlier expression at your tears. The two share a look, and Floyd almost immediately got up—until you stop him.

“Please… don’t be mad at Azul…” you muttered, “I… I don’t think he means it.”

You remember the expression Azul made. First—there was fear, pain—before it shifted to something more like acceptance.

You don’t understand.

Why wouldn’t he think he was worth it?

He had always been selfish—and you wanted him to be selfish with you—and yet—

“You must be happy.”

He had said, but you had immediately caught the slightest bit of wetness that had began to well up in his blue eyes. You had noticed the way he had stiffened, the way his breath and voice hitched as he did his best to hide from you what you were truly feeling—

Jade and Floyd exchanged another glance, before coming to the same conclusion.

“Listen [Name].” Jade reached and cupped your chin in a delicate manner. “Here’s what we’ll do…”

-

When Azul finally exited his office, he had to fix his robes, and his make-up—if only to keep his unflappable façade as Azul Ashengrotto of Octavinelle. What he didn’t anticipate was to be immediately blocked by the Leech twins.

“Ah. There you two are.” Azul cleared his throat, his voice still scratchy from the amount of crying he just did. “There are some things we need to do—” Floyd slammed a hand against the wall right next to Azul’s head, before he leaned closed—his eyes dark as he studied the octopus merman in front of him.

“Shrimpy ran by here. She was crying.” Floyd’s eyes narrowed, and Jade sighed from behind him. “What did you do?”

“Apparently, the dear girl is being offered a chance to go home.” His voice trembled at the last word, but he held fast to his belief that this is the best choice for you. “I congratulated her on it.”

“Why?” Floyd hissed, “why would you—Azul—”

“It was only logical to assume so.” Azul said in response. “I presumed she wished to go home.”

“What… makes you think she wouldn’t want to stay here?” was Jade’s quiet query.

“It’s obviously the better choice for her to go. There’s nothing for her here.” Both twins blinked, a little awed that Azul—their selfish, greedy Azul—just said that.

“… There’s nothing here worth staying for. Not for her at least.” Azul said—at the sight of their expressions. “I’m sure—she’ll be happier in her home world. She should have never even come here.”

And wasn’t that a terrifying thought?

He wondered what it would have been like to have lived in a world where he had no concept, no idea of you. He shuddered immediately—he would rather always be able to remember you. If he could not have you, then he would cup the memories you shared together in his palms and hold on as tight as he could.

Floyd let out a disbelieving laugh.  

“Is that truly what you believe?” Jade’s eyes narrowed, “that there’s nothing for her here?”

“You can’t sincerely believe that!” Floyd snarked, his expression twisted in displeasure. “The Azul we know—he would be selfish.”

“Don’t you see?” Azul, fed up, finally yelled, “It’s because I’ve always been selfish with her that I should be selfless for once.” He gritted his teeth aggressively.

“Of course, I want her to stay! I practically need her to stay.” He inhaled sharply, as he looked at the twins with wet eyes—frustrated that, as per usual, he had lost control of his emotions and tears. “But I also need to acknowledge that it may not be the best choice for her! So, I don’t want her to consider me when she’s making this decision—It’s not about me. It’s about her.” He exhaled, a part of him satisfied that he had managed to stun the twins once more… that is until Jade let out a soft chuckle and stepped aside to reveal that you were standing right behind him. Floyd stepped back, while a snicker escaped his lips.

“Azul.” You peered at him with wet eyes, and he tensed.

“You two—” Azul looked up to glare at the twins, who shrugged easily as they retreated away.

“Azul… why do you think like that?”

“…” He looked away, he didn’t want to answer, but when he felt your soft hands cup his face so that you could direct him to look at you—seeing that familiar look in your eyes—the one that told him how badly you wanted to understand him—instantly made him soften. “I always think about it… you deserve better. Better than me.”

“Azul… you need… to stop thinking of yourself like this. I love you.” You added, and his eyes widened, “Regardless of what you think—I think the best option for me… is to be by your side Azul.”

“You… really think that?” his voice shook, and you sniffled too.

“Of course, I do! Even if you didn’t want me… or need me…” you lower lip trembled, and Azul wanted to kiss your worries away. “I would cling to you as tightly as possible—it hurts but—I’d stay. You’re always going to be worth it for me.” Azul’s whole body quivered, and without thinking his hand slid onto a button on his blouse. He took one of your hands off his face to press a button onto your palms.

“You have my heart.” He murmured, voice soft, and his eyes moist. “and you have my future… if you’ll let me share them with you.”

“It’s a deal, Mr. Ashengrotto.” You said, your own eyes pricked with tears—and he let out a little chuckle.

He will continue to do everything in his power to always—remain—the best option for you.

-

“What a couple of cry-babies.” Despite Floyd’s tone, a pleased smile made its way to his lips.  

“Our cry-babies.” Jade murmured, a familiar smirk plastered on his own face as he watched you and Azul bawl into each other’s arms.

--

You were, once more, invited to Scarabia’s annual graduation party for their fourth-year students. It was… one of their grander parties and it was hardly the first one you had ever attended since befriending their Dorm Leader two years ago.

However—what made this party different from the others you’ve attended so far, was because a part of the graduating batch were your friends—Kalim and Jamil. The very fact Kalim was graduating, made the Asim family decide to sponsor this year’s party. This meant that even as far as grand parties would go—this year’s party blew the past other parties away in terms of extravagance. There were a lot of people (guests of the graduates), food (completely catered—for sure Jamil slunk away a little miffed that he didn’t get to cook), music (hired by the Asims) and dancing (right in the centre of the room too!)

It was incredibly beautiful—and just… something you have never believed you would have had the chance to experience. You expressed as such to Kalim, who, with a grin—laced his fingers with yours as he pulled you straight to the dance floor. His warm hand landed on the curve of your waist before he began to lead you in a complicated dance. You let out a few squeals here and there—especially because dances native to the Land of Hot Sands were quick, and nothing like you’ve experienced before. Kalim only grinned happily as he twirled you around then rapidly pulled you back into his arms. You could feel your cheeks flush red as you were pressed up against the man’s well-defined chest.

“Isn’t this fun, [Name]?” Kalim let out a boisterous laugh as he continued to spin with you at the centre of the celebration. His dark summoning robes shined under the opalescent light of the room.

“Yeah…” your eyes flickered away briefly, before landing back on his face. Luckily, Kalim had not noticed your slightest hesitation—nor the fact that you were lying.

It wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying yourself—you always enjoyed any moment you could spend with Kalim—that was the truth but—

You could feel the countless dark stares that many of the eligible young women of Twisted Wonderland shot as you hogged Kalim’s attention. Ever since you had arrived at the party, Kalim had happily, and staunchly stayed by your side throughout it—eagerly sharing with you details from the Land of the Hot Sands.

It made you… nervous… insecure.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Kalim cocked his head to the side, bright red eyes curious—but you didn’t want him to feel upset on such an important day for him.

“It’s really nothing.” As the music finished, you pulled away. “I do think I’m a little tired… So, I think I’ll go rest back at the table.” He gave you a worried look.

“Are you sure?” he cocked his head in an innocently curious manner that made your heart hum in pleasure of his concern. “You’re my friend, [Name]! So, I want to make sure you’re well!”

‘You’re my friend.’

‘You’re just a friend.’

You felt your lips tightened at such a damning sentence, and you quickly looked away.

“Yeah, I just…” you paused, “maybe you can dance with someone else?” you suggested—even if you wished with all your heart that he’d notice how you were truly feeling.

“Oh! That’s a great idea!” Kalim beamed brightly, before he turned around and happily waved his arms. “Who wants to dance with me next?”

In an instant, the Asim Heir was surrounded by gorgeous women, and you were elbowed out of the crowd.

“Oof.” You grasped at your stomach after you were harshly pushed away, and some of the ladies at the outermost part of the circle, sniffed haughtily at you before they turned away.

You stood there for a moment, as you wondered if it would be too late to fight your way through the crowd to reach his side but… You watched Kalim offer his hand to one of the beautiful women. Something in you lurched, and you could not bear to watch so you quickly retreated to your seat—you felt like a coward.

Your table was devoid of your year mates now. Grim was hanging around with Deuce near the buffet table. Ace and Epel, on the other hand, were incredibly popular and seemed to be dancing with some other women too. Ace looked pleased, but Epel’s expression practically begged for someone to get him out of there. Jack on the other hand, claimed that the noise was too much for him, and had eagerly retired to his dorm. You let out a small giggle, as you briefly met Epel’s suffering gaze, before he and his partner turned again. In the process, your eyes landed on the ever cheerful Kalim… and his incredibly enthusiastic partner.

The woman had herself pressed up against his body and seemed to be saying something right into his ear… but judging from her slightly frustrated expression—whatever she was saying had no effect on Kalim. 

“In my generosity, I have found a way to bring you back home... but...” the Headmaster peered at you with glowing eyes. “Something tells me you don’t want that anymore.”

You frowned as that memory, unbidden, returned to the forefront of your mind. You were supposed to tell Kalim about it but… Your eyes flickered up to see him dance away with the woman.

You doubted you would get the chance to do so now.

Which you definitely… did not do on purpose.

You just—did not know—

How does one bid goodbye to the sun?

As the music ended, the same hoard of women surrounded Kalim once more. Despite the pang in your heart—you couldn’t help the exasperated but fond sigh that left your lips as you see Kalim smile cheerfully at them all.

Not at all bothered.

Still of a kind heart.

The way he was right now…

‘He truly is the sun.’ you thought, you looked around and you noticed—that everyone was paying attention to Kalim. Their gaze fixated and focused on Kalim’s next actions.

‘Everyone here is a heavenly body, orbiting the brilliant sun.’

Kalim had always had a sense of magnitude to him—always had a spark that attracted everyone… even those who were never meant to stay.

‘And I’m a meteor off course.’

Your eyes hazed over and watered immediately at the realization of your position.

‘I cannot stay.’

You ducked your head frantically—as you felt the inevitable spill of your tears down the curve of your cheeks.

‘I have no place here… no place to stay.’

No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.

They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.

And you know the path you must walk will take you universes away from the one sun that you wished you could orbit around for eternity.

You choked briefly, and instinctively grabbed a nearby napkin to dab at your face. You were glad Grim was enjoying the festivities at the table across—had he been with you, everyone would have probably noticed your complete breakdown.

You sniffled quickly and froze as a hand that held out a handkerchief, entered your line of sight. Your eyes traced the tanned forearm, up the toned arm, before your gaze was caught by deep dark eyes.

Jamil stared at you with a frown on his face as he pressed the handkerchief into your hands. You flinched, startled, before you grabbed it.

“Thanks.” You stuttered, voice low, and Jamil gazed at you unflinchingly.

“You’re thinking of going home.” He murmured in that soft spoken, delicate tone of his. “No… you’re already going home.” His eyes narrowed, and under the candlelight of Scarabia’s halls—the shadow of the flames licked his face and made his dead, calm expression somehow… even more terrifying than usual.

“Please… don’t look at me like that.” You bowed your head, as some of your tears slipped down your knuckles. You could hear Jamil sigh.

“You’re going to break his heart.” Jamil murmured, his voice as cool and collected as ever.

“How can I break something… that I’ve never held in the first place…?” You muttered as you lifted a golden goblet up to your lips. Jamil shot you an unimpressed stare at that.

“Regardless of what you believe,” Jamil pursed his lips. “You will hurt him.”

“It’s not going to last.” You said in defence. “He’ll move on…” you looked up; tears got caught in your lashes as you blinked rapidly. “He’s going to meet people even more amazing… Like someone who …”

‘Someone who will suit him.’

‘The best person that he could be with.’

“I’m sure of that.” You tried to sound convincing—but you couldn’t truly—not when your heart believed otherwise.

“… That… isn’t something that you alone can decide.” Jamil’s eyes slid to Kalim. The man was burning as bright as ever in the centre of the room. “Kalim should have a say in that as well.”

“I can’t believe you’re the one saying that.” It was wrong of you to say that. It was—without a doubt—a low blow. Judging from the most miniscule of movement above Jamil’s brow—you had guessed he thought the same.

He didn’t blow up and instead, the man sighed deeply as he picked up his own golden goblet for a drink. You look down onto the handkerchief that you clenched in your hands.

“Jamil…” you did not look up, and instead your hand reached for your own pocket. “would you… give him this letter?” you pulled out a wrinkled envelope—one you had penned immediately after learning from Crowley that you could go home.

You… you couldn’t bear the thought of watching Kalim get sad.

You had always figured that if something like this came up you would tell him in a letter instead.

So, that you would never have to face his sadness or his tears.

“… You’re a coward.” Jamil said quietly, before he grabbed the envelope anyways.

You don’t say anything.

He was right of course.

You were just a coward—as you frantically cupped your heart in your hands in the hopes that it would not burn away into nothingness.

-

“Then,” Crowley peered down at you with glowing eyes. “Are you ready?”

You had to drag your eyes away from the doorway—that you had stared at whilst you wondered if anyone would run after you.

Though you knew nobody would.

It had been what you wanted in the first place.

You didn’t want… you hated seeing people get sad. So—you had chosen to write letters to all your friends… and you had set them in places you’re sure they’d see. It was so selfish of you but—

You remember Kalim’s tears when Jamil had overblotted, two years ago…

‘It’s better this way.’ You reassured yourself before you looked at Crowley.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You tried to smile, and something about the way Crowley tilted his head made you feel as if he pitied you. He chose not to say anything, and instead the Headmaster gestured to the glowing mirror.

You took one step toward the mirror before the door behind you dramatically burst open.

“[NAME]!” Your heart stopped at the voice, and you turned around to see that Kalim was standing right there—his hands on his knees as he panted in exhaustion.

“Ka…lim… why…” your eyes caught sight of a Jamil who slowly dragged his feet into the Hall of Mirrors before your line of sight was completely blocked out by Kalim’s red eyes.

“[Name]! Why—why are you leaving?” His lower lip wobbled, and your heart wrenched itself at the fact that you were the cause of such an expression. “And you didn’t even tell me—have I—are we not friends? Is that not enough reason for you to stay?” His expression looked so genuinely heartbroken, but you snapped into attention at his words.

“The thing is Kalim…” you tried to avoid his gaze. “It’s exactly because we are friends that I… that I cannot stay.” You managed to force out.

“What? Why?” he gaped at you, and your frustration at the situation made tears begin to slip out of your eyes.

“Because I love you, you idiot!” you practically yelled, uncaring of your audience. Kalim gaped at you.

“But—but—I love you too!” Your heart quickened at his statement, but you frantically shook your head.

“No, you don’t—you love me—as a friend.” You emphasized, “and I can’t stay knowing that—you need to end up with someone… better than me—”

“I mean it [Name]!” honesty shone in those red eyes. There was a flicker of desperation in those eyes before he quickly fell to his knees in front of you. You gaped at him in surprise as he reached for his chest.

Snap.

He looked up at you, as he stretched out his hand to offer you the gleaming button.

“I love you [Name].” He met your eyes head on—and the seriousness in that gaze of his made an exquisite shiver run down your spine. “So—won’t you marry me?”

--

As the graduation ceremony in the Mirror Chamber concluded, Vil and Rook exited first out of all the Pomefiore fourth years. They quickly approached their Pomefiore juniors, who were all, enthusiastically cheering for them. 

"Congratulations Senior Schoenheit! Congratulations Senior Hunt!” 

Epel shuffled forward and offered the two seniors a big bouquet of brilliant red roses each. 

“Oh~ They are beautiful~ Merci, Epel.” Rook took the bouquet with a pleased expression, and happily sniffed the roses. “and very fragrant too~” 

“You were so impressive, Senior Schoenheit! You got so many awards!” said one particularly awed junior.

“Naturally.” Vil inclined his head, as he inhaled the intoxicating scent of the roses. Around him, his juniors continued to give bouquets to his fellow seniors. Disinterested in that—his eyes flickered around in a slow pace... looking for...

Vil frowned behind the rose bouquet when he could not catch sight of you.

‘Now, where could you have gone, sweet potato?’ 

“Er...” Vil glanced back down at Epel, to see him quickly flicker his eyes in a direction. 

‘I see.’ 

“Excuse me.” he murmured underneath his breath before he proceeded to move away from the Pomefiore gathering, down the path Epel had signalled him too. 

-

“Congratulations Vil. I mean—I guess you didn’t need it but--ah... no... I’m saying this all wrong...” he heard you before he saw you. His glossed lips curled up in an amused smirk at the sound of you practising your congratulatory message. Vil turned the corner to see you seated at a bench in the middle of the open courtyard. Unlike him, you were dressed properly in your version of the school uniform. You had furrowed brows, a wrinkled nose and pouted lips as you stared into a bouquet of what looked to be dark coloured flowers. He almost called out to you when you began to speak to yourself again. 

“Hi, [Name] here. I wanted to congratulate you and also... tell you... Agh! Is this really the time to tell him about that? God... I don’t want to...” 

“Don’t want to what?” You jumped in your seat. You turned your head quickly, only to immediately loose both your train of thought and breath at the sight of him. 

It was not the first time you had seen Vil in the summoning robes—he had been one of those students that had immediately caught your eye during that entrance ceremony—all those years ago.

But...

It was like seeing him for the first time—if that made sense.

His light blonde hair twisted into loose lavender waves that accentuated his sharp but delicate features. The sheer brilliance of his violet eyes in contrast to the paleness of his lashes were further accentuated by the dark make up that no one else but Vil Schoenheit could possibly hope to pull off. His lips were glossed gently with that pale lavender colour that had you dying. How long have you dreamed of kissing those lips? Smearing that lavender colour across his cheek? Ruining him, the way he’s ruined you?

How could you ever hope to fall out of love with Vil Schoenheit? 

How could you ever hope to fall in love with someone else, after Vil Schoenheit?

He approached you slowly, with an elegant countenance only heightened by the way his robes swirled around him. 

“Sweet potato?” He arched a fine brow. You were still silent despite that he had taken the seat next to you. While he may draw pleasure from the way he made you speechless, your earlier words still held fast to his curiosity. You snapped into attention after you realised that you had been staring for quite a while at him.

“T-That is—Senior Vil! Congratulations on your graduation!” you stuttered out as you simultaneously offered to him the bouquet in your arms. You peered up at him worriedly, and promptly got distracted by the way his long lashes tangled briefly as he blinked. 

“Roses as well?” he tilted his head, pale blonde hair curled gently around his cheeks. You paused and saw that he also had a bouquet of vivid, red roses in his arms. 

“Oh! Um! How presumptuous of me... I didn’t mean... that is to say...” he always turned you into a nonsensical fool. It was impossible to string words into sentences when everything would fall away in the face of Vil. He stared at you, bemused, as you babbled. “Sorry, I suppose you wouldn’t want this—Right, that’s that—I can just—” 

“I did not say that.” Vil’s slender shoulders shook in laughter. Vil dropped the bouquet of red roses he had already been holding, to take the bouquet you offered him. He peered at it gently and noticed that what he had originally thought were black roses were actually—not. As he moved it under the light of the sun, the roses would shift between a dark violet or a deep blue. His breath caught in his throat. Red roses were—no doubt—classic. They were beautiful—but this bouquet you gave him… the roses were bewitching. 

“What colour are they meant to be?” he finally asked as he leaned down to inhale the familiar, comforting scent of roses.

“What do you see?” At that, he looked up at you with a curious expression. You looked back, eager to hear what he thought. 

“I can see violet and blue toned colours... they also seem to be black in some angles.” 

“Oh.”

“Are they not meant to be like that?” 

“No, no they are... I asked ah... Professor Crewel to help me breed these type of roses... It’s amazing what magic can do for plants.” you admitted, his eyes flickered quickly between you and the bouquet.

“You bred these... specifically?” 

“Ah... yeah... back home...” you struggled briefly, “there were these roses that were either bred or coloured to look pink and yellow. I wanted to make ones that were violet or blue. Thanks to magic, it’s possible to actually create these.” 

“Why?” he scrutinised your expression as you quickly flushed.

“Er... That’s because I couldn’t choose between either of the colours.” You said quickly as you licked your chapped lips—momentarily realising that you had forgotten to bring your lip balm. ‘Vil is looking at me, and I’m horrendously ugly. What hasn’t changed?’ you bemoaned to yourself.

“I figured... Pomefiore colours, yeah?” 

You watched as he studied the way the colours of the rose petals would shift in the light. You were happy to note that there was a little glow of awe in those violet eyes, and—what you hoped was delight. His expression quickly shuttered after you noted that they were Pomefiore colors, and he dragged his gaze from the deep coloured roses to glance at you.

“You know sweet potato... lying isn’t very attractive.” he said, nonchalant, and you froze. 

“What... lying?” you chuckled nervously. His eyes narrowed briefly, and you winced.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” You quickly avoided his gaze as you felt your eyes immediately begin to go wet, “Sweet potato, look at me.” You inhaled sharply as you slowly turned your head to face him again. You chewed nervously on your lower lip, and his eyes narrowed again. 

“Don’t do that.” 

“Sorry.” you knew he was referring to your habit of chewing on your lower lip. 

“Well?” 

“... I was hoping you wouldn’t notice until... later.” you finally admitted. “though who am I kidding—I wanted you to know... I wouldn’t have given that to you if I hadn’t wanted you to know that...” 

“Violet roses mean ‘love at first sight’.” Vil murmured softly, “Blue roses mean ‘impossible love’... and Black roses have so much meaning... just what are you trying to say with this bouquet, [Name]?” you flinched as he named all the colours that appeared in the bouquet. 

“Black roses... I... this is also me saying... goodbye.” Vil froze, as he turned to you quickly, his eyes turned even sharper. 

“What are you going on about?” 

“Headmaster Crowley... he found a way for me to go back.” you swallowed, “and... I think I’ll go.” 

“And what about the violet and blue roses? Will you ignore what you just told me?” Vil demanded, and you looked away—unable to look at him—because you know that if you do, your resolve will falter. 

“That’s... I just... I wanted to confess. To get all these feelings out because I know... I know it’s impossible.” Your lower lip trembled, but you held fast and tight onto your resolve.

‘Just let it out. Get it out of your system and... and maybe you could start again.’ 

“Why do you believe it’s impossible?” You hear Vil sigh, exasperated. “For the Queen’s sake—look at me [Name].” 

“No, look at me.” you snapped back, and he recoiled briefly at the sudden flash of anger. "I’m more than aware that we...” 

‘We have no chance. I, of all people—know that. It’s just some dream I cooked up in my head.’ 

“Look at us.” you said, miserable. “I... you’re so beautiful... and amazing... and I’m just... me. How could I ever suit someone like you? How could I make someone like you, happy?” 

“You will stop talking like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Putting yourself down the way you’re doing right now.” He replied, “and look at me when I’m speaking to you, [Name].” You feel a soft, gentle hand cup your cheek, and move it to face him. Vil had a frown on his face—and while he never looked less pretty because of it, you still hated that you were the cause of it.

“[Name]... you...” he paused, sighed before he dropped the bouquet of dark coloured roses down onto his lap and raised a hand to his uniform. 

Snap.

Your eyes widened as you watched Vil rip a button off from his uniform before he offered it to you. 

“Vil—that—you—” you stuttered. You remembered him talking about the importance of the uniform, and he was the last person you would ever imagine, who would actually—

“What normally happens is... someone confesses, and the other party decides whether or not to give the button. When the other party gives their button—it means they return the love of the person who confessed.” Jack’s voice echoed in your head.

“There’s a tradition at graduations in this world.” Vil began gently as he placed it in your hands, “when one person confesses—the other can chose to—” 

“Give them a button.” you murmured and Vil tilted his head to the side in surprise.

“You know of it?”

“The others... Jack... told me.” you mumbled, “but this... Vil... you...” 

“My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” He leaned towards you and pressed his forehead against you. His eyes softened as your eyes watered and the tears began to spill. “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side. Nothing you say will change that so...” He brushed your tears away with the thumb of his hands, and you found yourself lost in the gentle affection in those violet eyes. 

“Won’t you stay with me?” Those lavender lips curled—and you’ve never ever wanted so badly to kiss someone in your life, “I’m not a generous person, [Name]. You can only answer yes… or yes.” 

--

“Ah—[Name]!” Ortho signalled for you to come close quickly. You moved to the boy’s side, before he gestured for you to peak into Idia’s room. You had expected to see Idia as he fiddled away with his computer—as per usual. To your surprise however—Idia was in fact—just stared off into space. You gaped at him, before you peered down at Ortho who nodded worriedly.

“Big Brother’s been like that for a while.” You could hear the frown in Ortho’s voice. “I don’t know what to do—not even his games can pull him out of it.”

“Really?” at the disbelief tone, Ortho looked up at you with wide golden eyes.

“Really!” he nodded, his fiery hair bobbed at his movement. “He hasn’t touched a single game in a while! He’s actually gone to some of his classes—well I still needed to bring him there—but he didn’t resist like usual… In fact, he didn’t complain at all! He’s even gone to graduation practice! That’s why he’s—” Ortho gestured at his outfit, and you realized that Idia was, in fact, dressed in the summoning robes.  

“What do I do?” Ortho asked, and you knew if he could cry—he probably already would be.

“I’ll… I’ll try to talk to him. You can stay here, alright?” Ortho nodded, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door open.

-

Idia, on the other hand, still stared off into empty space—unable to register anything. All he could do was think about what had got him so distracted.

Crowley had bothered him too much about graduation—and Idia just simply… didn’t want to think about it. Unluckily for Idia, the Headmaster could become incredibly annoying when he wanted to be. Whenever Idia just wanted to brush aside the issues—Crowley only pressed him even more. At his wit’s end, Idia had thought to mess around with his computer… or something. Perhaps jam Crowley’s ability to connect to Idia—or even better—plant something that will hear his secrets… (‘I sound like Azul,’ Idia had even despaired briefly).

It was as he hacked his way into Crowley’s system in the Headmaster’s office that Idia had accidentally listened into a particular conversation that he sorta wished he remained oblivious too.

-

“You asked for me?” Idia had jostled in his seat when he heard you speak. He rapidly looked around his room—wondering if you had made it in without him realizing (again). He had an excuse on his lips—ready to be said if you wondered what he was doing. (He had a feeling ‘annoying Crowley because he wants me to physically attend graduation’ might not up your support levels together much.)

“Ah yes [Name]! Please! Do come in! And sit, sit! For I am gracious.” Idia whirled around to look at his monitor. With some rapid taps onto his keyboard, he was able to get a visual of Crowley’s office. He quickly recognized your form from behind.

‘What are you doing in Crowley’s office?’ Idia thought. He didn’t need to wonder too long however because his question was quickly answered.

“My dear girl, I’ve done it!” Crowley said rather cheerfully, “For I am gracious!”

“That’s… great?” Idia could imagine your cute, confused expression. You made it often enough whenever he tried to explain anything about the games he played. Though your worlds bore many similarities when it came to consoles—there were minute differences that often slipped your mind. He let out a soft giggle at that—you were adorable, and just having thoughts about you made his mood all better.

“That’s great.” You had repeated slowly, “but ah… I’m confused—what is this about, Headmaster?” you inquired, genuinely sounding like you had no idea what he was talking about.  

‘Maybe I should go off. I don’t want to listen in and… I’m sure she’ll tell me whatever it is about—yeah?’ Idia nodded to himself, and just as he’s about to click the button that would cut off the audio—

“Well, what else could it be about my dear girl~?” Crowley had cackled, “In my generosity, I have found a way to bring you back home—”

Idia’s hand slammed down on the keyboard in shock, as he began to choke. He stared at his black screen in shock—not sure how to feel about what he had just heard.

‘You’re going home?’

-

He shouldn’t… have been as surprised as he was really.

He remembered that day, around two years ago, when you were first isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. He knew that the plan had always been to send you home as soon as Crowley actually found a way to do so but…

As he spent time with you—he had gradually forgotten.

No, he didn’t forget—he—

Put it out of his mind.

He was so caught up in enjoying the time he had with you, that it had slipped his mind that it wasn’t permanent. That it wasn’t something that could last for as long as he wanted.  

He knew that you always had your past world—your family, friends, and life—in your thoughts. He would too—if he were suddenly isekai’d in some foreign world where he had nothing.

So, Idia thought little of the possibility that you would remain in this world any longer. He knew—

He knew you’d want to go home because—

“What would keep you here?”

“What would keep who here?”

Idia yelped and leapt off his chair at the sound of your voice. He turned around to see you, as you peered at him with an amused smile. His heart skipped a beat at the way you smiled.

‘This is illegal—! You shouldn’t have power over me like this!’ He wailed inwardly, ‘Especially when—’ He let out a strangled noise as you pressed a warm, soft hand against his forehead.

“You don’t seem sick…” you mused, and you tilted your head in a way that Idia squealed at. You were just… so cute. Perfect waifu material for sure—you were kind—always so kind to him, and always willing to understand him in ways no one else ever was able to do. Ortho loved you too—

“Idia?” you leaned closer, and Idia frantically moved back. A wire made him trip backwards, and he let out a pained grunt at that.

“Oh no—are you okay?” He raised a hand to prevent you from drawing any closer.

“I’m okay!” he squeaked out, “I’m fine—just—give me a moment—”

“Alright.” You drew back, and with little hesitation, you chose to sit down on his bed as you watched Idia slowly stand upright. He patted his behind and winced—at which you let out a soft giggle. After a few more moments, Idia shuffled to sit right beside you. He fiddled with his sleeves awkwardly, his eyes flickered away—and back to you.

“Why—why are you staring at me like that?” he finally managed to say, and you smiled.

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in the summoning robes.” You said, “they suit you. You’re very handsome Idia.” Idia’s face quickly flamed up, and his hands rose to cup his own cheeks as he began to stutter rather fiercely.

“That—you—but—I—you lie!” he settled on; his face completely flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m not lying.” You shook your head, as you admired him in his summoning robes. You really weren’t—Idia can clean up rather nicely, and the dark colour of the robes accentuated the blue of his hair and the gold of his eyes.

“Thanks.” He said, his hands still covered the bottom half of his face.

“Are you really okay, Idia?” you asked, a little more concerned when your attempt at a conversation fell through.

“Yeah…?” he looked at you confused, and your eyes moved to the door. You knew Ortho was still there but…

“Ortho was pretty worried about you. Said you were acting all weird.”

“That’s because…” he chewed his lower lip, and he looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Well…”

“You can tell me anything.” You said—as you always did, when Idia worried himself to a frenzy at what you might think of the things he liked. “You know me Idia, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah… it’s…” he hesitated before he turned to you—Idia’s expression was different—it was, strangely serious and intense—not in any way you’ve seen it before. It instantly made you even more worried. “The truth is…”

He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.

So, he told you what he had overheard, his eyes fell to his palms because he could no longer face you. He was worried about what you’d think when you found out that he heard what had happened—and he was worried that something on your face will make him break down.

Idia was afraid of losing you.

Idia was afraid of losing a person who was so willing to be his dear friend.

His fists tightened on his shirt, and he wondered if there was any reason, he could give you so that you would stay.

“Idia…” you began, but your sombre tone made him squeeze his eyes shut because he didn’t want to confront the truth—that you were actually going to leave and…

“Are you really leaving?”

“That’s—”

“Please don’t leave!” you faltered briefly, and looked at the way Idia was hunched over, with his eyes squeezed shut. It would have been quite the comical sight if it were not for the seriousness of the topic.

“Idia—I’m—”

“I really—I don’t want you to go—” he fiddled with his robes. “I know that’s… selfish of me—and I know you’re probably thinking of your family but I think—no—I know—” He hesitated, and he looked up at you, his expression shy, his chin wobbled.

“I… lo—” he shut his eyes quickly as finally blurted out how he truly felt. “I love you [Name]!” He tugged quickly on a button in his robes before he offered it to you with shaking hands.

You stared at him—stunned—you knew what Idia was like. You knew how much courage it must have took him to be tell you this—and to confront you about it too…

“Idia… won’t you look at me? Please?” you asked, gently. He glanced up at you, and you gave him a sweet smile that had his heart run a mile a minute. With that tender expression, you took the button in his hands and rubbed it gently with your fingers.

“Idia… you didn’t hear the whole thing, did you?” Idia furrowed his brows, before he shook his head.

“I accidentally quit the program…” he admitted, “and… I was too scared to go back on so…”

“Idia—I’m not leaving.”

“I guess it wasn’t enough—wait, what?” his head jerked back up to see your happy expression.

“I have no plans on leaving. If you had listened further, you might’ve heard that.” You giggled lightly, “I didn’t want to leave you—so I asked Crowley if it was possible to just… communicate with my world instead.” Idia gaped at you, completely surprised.

“Wait—you’re staying?”

“Yes.”

“For me?” he squeaked, and you nodded.

“For you. For us.” You held up the button between your fingers, and he looked at it for a moment before he met your gaze again, his face rapidly turned a bright red.

“So, I—I didn’t need to—do this—?”

“Technically…  no?”

“Can you just forget the last few minutes please—”

“Absolutely not!” He made a strangled whimper-like sound at the back of his throat, and you laughed as you moved to embrace him. “I won’t forget it—because I love you too!”

“You—you do?”

You pulled back, to cup his face in your hands. His cheeks burned red, but you disregarded that to look into his gold eyes. His pupils shook, and you could see how nervous he was—you could feel the way he trembled in your hands.

“I love you Idia—and I’ll happily accept your heart.” Idia exhaled heavily, as he slackened into your arms, before he moved to wrap his arms around you.

“And… I love you…” he mumbled, less nervous—a little more assured—but for sure, deep in love. “Thank you… for staying with me.”

--

When Malleus himself invited you to Diasomnia—you gathered all your courage to go and tell him about what Crowley had told you.

"Ah [Name].” Sebek greeted you with a cheerful smile as you entered Diasomnia’s Main Hall. “Care for a button?” 

Your brows shot up as you realized that he was carrying a bunch of buttons in his cupped hand. 

“Err... Sebek... why...” you cleared your throat. “Why do you have so many... buttons?” Sebek brightened up at the question.

“You see, remember when Ace was speaking about the Second Button tradition?” At your hesitant nod, he continued, “I have come to understand that I shouldn’t be thinking about exchanging buttons with the Young Master—” 

‘Oh dear.’

“As his vassal, I should be more concerned with the fact that should he exchange buttons with someone, it would ruin his attire—and by extension it may ruin his reputation.” Sebek nodded to himself, pleased with his own reasoning. “So, I chose to prepare a lot of buttons for the Young Master to pass out to those seeking his button.” 

“I... I see.” You exhaled. If you had to describe what you felt for Sebek at this very moment—you would describe it as exasperated, but fond. He wasn’t a bad person--just... hilariously attached.  

'Malleus...’

Had it already been two years since you came to Twisted Wonderland? Had it already been two whole years since you had met him in the gardens of the Ramshackle Dorm?

No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t remember how dark it had been that night—nor could you remember the exact reason why you had still been awake.

“Hm. Who are you?”

What you do know is that everything faded away in favour of remembering how you felt when you first laid eyes on Malleus. 

“Well now this is a surprise. You are a child of man.” 

Long dark hair that tumbled down to the small of his back, pale porcelain skin, and vividly green eyes that were framed by long, thick lashes. The light of the moon was bright enough to illuminate him and it made him all the more ethereal in the night. 

As you had stared at him, you felt your throat dry, your heart picked up its pace and your cheeks burned. You didn’t know—you still don’t know—but something about Malleus just left you so speechless... and in awe. 

You raised a hand to your chest, as you felt it skip a beat just at the thought of him.

‘I have it bad.’ you had to accept that much—even if you knew you had—practically—zero chance with him. 

“[Name]?” Sebek brought you out of your stupor. You dragged your eyes back down to Sebek’s palm, and the shining buttons in his palm. 

“I’m surprised you’re even offering.” you pointed out, and Sebek glanced at you thoughtfully.

“Regardless of my personal feelings,” Sebek sniffed. “I at least know that the Young Master thinks of you as an important friend.” 

‘What was it that Jack said?’ 

Jack had said it was something of a serious promise (Ace completely disregarded it--but... well, you were more likely to believe Jack between the two of them). You also remembered that Malleus wasn’t even allowed to show up in front of the Ghost Bride because he was the sole heir of the Valley of Thorns... 

‘It’s not like Malleus would give me his he...’ You couldn’t help but blink in surprise at the bitterness of your thoughts. ‘Since when did I...’ You quickly shrugged it off, before you finally nodded at Sebek.

“Sure, why not?” After you picked it up, you began to play with it in between your fingers. 

“Come to think of it [Name], what are you doing here?” Sebek eyed you suspiciously. 

“Ah that’s because—” 

“I invited her here.” At the sound of his voice, a shiver ran down your spine—and you felt the tips of your ears burn with a blush. You both turned to see Malleus as he entered the main hall. 

Your eyes widened, and a gasp slid past your lips at the sight of him dressed in the dark coloured summoning robes. As the robe billowed around his long legs, he moved with a certain grace that made it seemed like he was gliding towards you. 

“Woah...” you raised a hand to your lips in surprise. In return, Malleus’s lips only curled—pleased at your reaction.

“Ah, Young Master! You look amazing!” Sebek exhaled, as awed as you. 

“Thank you.” He inclined his head elegantly, before his eyes shifted back to you. You shuffled in place uncomfortably, before his lips raised into a gentle smile.

“I apologize I could not come to Ramshackle tonight. We were busy preparing for graduation.” Malleus said, “I thought we could walk instead in the gardens of Diasomnia... before I escorted you home. Not a bad plan, no?” 

“Young Master...” Sebek furrowed his brows briefly, but Malleus only raised a hand—his eyes never leaving your form.

“It is fine Sebek. I will not take too long.” He tilted his head; his dark hair gently fell across his face at the motion and your struck by the motion to tuck it behind his ear. You had to curl your fingers together to stop yourself. 

“Shall we?” 

-

You walked quietly beside Malleus through the gardens; your heart pounded in your ears. 

‘I have to tell him. I really need to.’ You glanced at him quickly from the corner of your eyes. His eyes had slid shut as he inhaled, his shoulders rose and fell at his action. Your heart twisted regretfully, and you could feel your eyes tear up briefly.

His smile was gentle—delicate, much like the fairy lights that naturally accompanied him every night. 

He looked so peaceful. 

He looked content.

He had once been so forlorn.

His eyes had been so viridescent and sad. Loneliness had wrapped him up in a cold embrace.

You wondered if centuries from now—Malleus would remember you. 

You doubted it. 

You were just a drop in the ocean of Malleus’s life. 

As if you could ever... 

“I’ve been wondering.” you flinched as he suddenly spoke, and you blinked rapidly—as you hoped that none of the wetness in your eyes fall out. 

“Yeah?” you hoped he didn’t notice the way that you had been so overcome with your feelings that you had to choke that out.

“That.” Malleus pointed at button that you had been unconsciously playing with your hands. “Why are you holding a button?” 

“Oh that’s...” you looked down at the button in your hand, “Sebek gave it to me. He said he was passing it out to people who would ask you for your button.” 

“My button?” the dragon fae blinked slowly. You quickly told him about the tradition Ace had mentioned. 

“Ah.” Malleus let out a soft chuckle. “Yes, I do believe Lilia mentioned it.” then he peered down at you again. “That begs the question... why did you accept the button from Sebek?” 

“Well... that’s because...” you nibbled on your lower lip. ‘It’s not like I can tell him that I...’ you stopped walking, and when Malleus realized that you had stopped moving—he turned around to face you.  

“Little one?” 

“I just figured... well... I don’t think I’d ever get one.” you said in a self-deprecating tone. “So, I thought... might as well... It’s a cute tradition anyways.” 

Malleus felt his brows furrow in response. He had easily noticed that your mood was not particularly bright. He frowned; he despised the things that would make you sad—it made your light dim. 

Your brilliance saved him. 

He would be damned before he let anything cause you to flicker out like a dying star. 

When you saw his shadow approach you, you couldn’t help but flinch. You didn’t want him to look at you right now—when you know your feelings are all over your face—when you couldn’t control the way your heart hummed in pleasure—knowing he was with you. 

Malleus grabbed your hands, and you swear he could probably feel the way your heartbeat moved into a rapid pace at his touch. At this proximity—Malleus’s scent—gentle but fragrant—of wildflowers and smoke—enveloped you, it made you instinctively relax. You looked at your hands as he gently pried your fingers open to take the button away from you. 

“I see...” 

Before your eyes, the innocent little button caught a flame and burned away. 

“Malleus, that’s overdoing it—don’t you think—” when you looked up, you caught sight of the way he reached for the buttons on his uniform.

Snap.

“I wish you spoke to me first.” Malleus said softly as he pressed the button into your palms. He looked down at you, with those eyes—

Vivid greens--but so gentle, so loving. 

Nobody had ever looked at you like that. 

“After all, I would gladly give my heart to you, my bright light.” your eyes widened, and they began to sting.

“You can’t... you can’t just do that... You’re a fae prince... and I.... I don’t belong here... I... I...” Malleus listened intently as your breath grew uneven as you tried not to cry. “I... I don’t...” you tried to give the button back, but Malleus only pressed your fingers close. “Crowley told me I could go home...” 

“You do not have to.” Malleus leaned down and lifted your head so that he could press his forehead against yours. Your eyes were too sad—too wet.

He could not believe that you thought of yourself like this. 

‘You don’t understand little light... If there’s anyone who should be unworthy to bathe in your presence it would be I....’ 

“You could stay here, with me. You could be my Queen...” Malleus paused thoughtfully, “No... that is wrong. You already are my Queen.” 

“I’m no fae. Not even a magician. Not a speck of magic in me.” your grief escaped you through your tears, “you still want that?” 

‘Volatile as I was... so arrogant and self-assured in my own powers.... but you had not given up on me, little light.... that is why... I won’t let go of you either.’ 

"Of course.” he replied easily, “you possess more power than you think. You possess so much power over me.” he whispered, and his breath fanned over your face. “I do not mind how powerless I am against you.” 

“I’m not an immortal. You... I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Oh, bright light... I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side... rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.” Malleus professed. You were now openly sobbing, and Malleus pressed his lips against your jaw, onto your cheeks and over your eyelids. 

“And should you worry about the centuries after... that is alright my bright light. I will simply find you again.” 

As he pulled away, he noticed that your breathing was still shaky, and he leaned in again to give you several more comforting kisses. 

“Won’t you... get bored of me?” 

“Ah... but you are such a bright spark... I will never tire of you.” He made sure to stare straight into your eyes, “I will never tire of the way you look at me, the way you blush... the way you react when I call for you—and the feel of your heart...” He moved his thumb to feel the rhythmic beat of your heart. 

“Will you not… let me…have your heart too?” He found the button—his button from earlier—and pressed it once more into your palm, to remind you of his earlier gift.

‘His heart...’  

“...How... can I say no?” you choked out, “Yes... of course... Malleus.... I’d... there’s never been anything I wanted more.” 

He could feel his shoulders slacken in relief at your response, as he bent down to brush his lips across yours. 

‘I was terrified that you would slip away from me... Thank you...’ 

“Then let whatever years we have together... be ours only....” 

-- 

[a-froger-epic]

tw: mention of eating disorders

hey i read something about freddie having an eating disrorder, and I hate asking this but could you please explain if you know anything about it. my poor baby :(

Hey anon!

I’m sorry it took me a while to reply. This is a sensitive topic for many, so I wanted to take my time and give you the nuanced reply it deserves.

I’ve talked about this a little before, but I might as well take the opportunity now to speak about it at length. This is only my personal opinion based on everything I’ve read about Freddie and many different takes I’ve seen others put forward.

So, did Freddie have an eating disorder?

The shortest answer to that, as far as I’m concerned, is... maybe?

Before I carry on, I’d like to say that I think everyone is free to speculate about this and make up their own mind, as well as creatively explore this in their writing, and I don’t consider my opinion to be any more correct than anyone else’s.

Why do people think Freddie might have had an ED?

There are a few things about Freddie and food which could be interpreted as ED behaviours. First off, here is what Phoebe has to say about Freddie and his eating habits:

His taste in food changed over the years I was with Freddie. When I started the group of us would make monthly visits to the restaurant Shezan, an Indian eatery, in Knightsbridge. Freddie never had a menu as they always provided his favourite selection of foods without asking. As his illness progressed, his taste buds could not take the assault of spicy foods and he tended to more bland foods. He also turned his eating habits around. He used to have a lighter meal at lunch and then have a big meal in the evening, usually at a restaurant with a big group of friends. Towards the end he would eat more at lunch and a smaller meal in the evenings.

Nothing much out of the ordinary here, as far as I can see. Freddie definitely had favourite foods he enjoyed, but then, a common misconception is that people with EDs don’t like/enjoy food, and that isn’t true. Phoebe also says this:

As I have said before, Freddie was a very light eater. Some of us live to eat, but Freddie was one of those people who ate to live. He was the master of moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten a good amount. He did enjoy good food, but really didn’t need to consume very much. He loved entertaining guests at meals in the dining room at Garden Lodge and was able to disguise his non-eating by making sure everyone else was ok during the meal. Don’t get me wrong, Freddie always ate enough to keep him going, but I can’t remember one time when he leant back in the chair saying ‘I’m stuffed!’

Now here we have a lot of things to unpack. There are three things in here - moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten more, disguising his non-eating and never eating enough to be full - which are definitely known ED behaviours.

However, people who just do not care about food all that much and are light eaters do also exist. In fact, I’m one of them myself. I did struggle with Disordered Eating in my teens and my early 20s, but I have a healthy relationship with food now and I never like to eat until I’m stuffed because it’s not a nice feeling, physically, to overeat. I’m also someone who easily and genuinely forgets to eat when I’m in a creative haze. Just as an example.

Also, seeing as Freddie most likely was made to finish meals all throughout his boarding school times, like many children in lunch halls, which is usually not a great experience for children who are picky or light eaters, the “moving food around the plate to make it seem he’s eaten” could well be an old habit stemming from there.

Either way, Phoebe doesn’t seem too concerned about Freddie’s eating, and even though people with EDs are very good at hiding them, Phoebe did know him for a long time and very, very well. Phoebe could also be withholding information that he considers too private. All of that is possible, all of that is speculation.

There are other things which point to the fact that Freddie was definitely preoccupied with his weight/appearance. In this interview in 1974, he says:

“Oh really,” he exclaims in disgust, “this paper has no flair - I mean to print this picture three times in succession … and just look at my arms!” He was horrified, “look at how fat they appear, now my arms aren’t like that at all - what do you think?” He rolls up his sleeves for me to inspect and I’d like to state here and now that the poor dear’s arms are quite, quite slender!

The photo Freddie is most likely talking about, is this one:

It’s not a very fortunate angle, admittedly. So I think it’s possible to see where he was coming from, but even so, he was worried about his arms looking fat at a time when he looked like this:

Yes, it is important to keep in mind that people were generally thinner in the 70s than we are used to now. (Brian, for example, was also incredibly thin.) But in this picture it really is evident that Freddie was very, very thin at this point.

Other things which are often brought into the discussion around Freddie’s eating habits is the account of him throwing a fit when Brian ate one of his biscuits once, choosing to walk after a meal at a restaurant while his driver drove alongside him and his friends, eating cereal on the floor in his dressing room, this picture where he clearly prefers salad to chicken wings (unlike Roger “What Even Are Vegetables” Taylor):

All of the above, to me, are things which can be heavily read into but ultimately don’t prove very much.

And there is this bit from Mercury & Me:

The Sun did later print a photograph of Freddie taken while he was performing at the festival, which he didn't appreciate. It showed off "Flabulous Freddie" with a slight paunch, wickedly describing it as his "midriff bulge". When he saw the picture he looked at me and shook his head in despair. 'It's typical,' he said. 'If I'm slim the papers say I'm too thin and if I put on a little bit of a belly they say I'm too fat. It's a no-win situation.'

Now, that doesn’t give off the impression to me that Freddie was particularly distraught about that article, at that point in his life. But it certainly appears to have bothered him to some degree.

So what’s the conclusion?

To me, personally, it seems quite likely that Freddie did suffer from Disordered Eating in the early to mid 70s. That’s really not uncommon, sadly, although it usually afflicts young women more than young men. But he was in the spotlight and had to care about his appearance. He was clearly very preoccupied with it, not only when it came to his body, but his looks in general - there is plenty of evidence regarding that. He was very selective about which photographs of himself he did and didn’t like. However, I find it impossible to say just how much this preoccupation affected him exactly. 1974 especially was also a very taxing year for Queen. Their management was shit, they struggled with money, they almost lost Brian, their touring schedules were brutal, the press was bashing them, Freddie was struggling with his sexual identity. There were a lot of immense stress factors, and he could have very well been someone who responded to stress by not eating - just like others respond to stress by eating too much. And Disordered Eating is not classed as an eating disorder. It is, if you will, the beginning of one.

Or, he absolutely could have developed or already had an actual ED which he was hiding fairly well, and it could have affected him a lot, but nobody would have ever known because he would have been unlikely to ever speak to anybody about it.

Both is possible. I simply don’t think that there is enough information to do more than speculate on the matter, beyond: He had a preoccupation with his looks and minded what and how much he ate throughout his life.

However, in the second half of the 70s as well as the 80s, he was still thin but had started working out and looked more “athletic” thin rather than gaunt. I think it’s entirely possible that whatever issues Freddie had with food were not a constant thing but something that may have been worse and better at times, depending on his overall mental well-being and his levels of confidence.

Or, it could have been something that he always struggled with.

Again, as far as I am concerned, both is possible and I don’t feel I can say for certain. And so, my take leans towards Disordered Eating when younger and less preoccupation with it later on. That’s the impression I get.

But I wrote all this out so that others can make up their own minds, and rather than share my exact opinion, I encourage you to do just that.

[asherlockstudy]

Rhett and Link’s problems with the Enneagram

I have now watched both Enneagram EBs and the second one actually set my gears to work (So Anon here it comes! I promise it was spontaneous).

After listening to Link and mostly Rhett talk about the Enneagram again and again, I realised I have a problem but I can not place its exact root. There is either something fundamentally wrong with the Enneagram itself or maybe it’s Rhett and consequently Link who talk about it in a way that made me feel a little uncomfortable.

My problem and cause of concern was that everything that was said during the two podcasts had a clear negative tone to it. I will have to bring in myself to it to give you an example so bear with me for a paragraph. I did the test and I am a 5 (Investigator - Observer, something like that) which suits me rather well, especially since it agrees perfectly with my Myers-Briggs INTP type. The results said I was a 5w6 (essentially an emotionless analytical robot) which is definitely wrong as I am clearly a 5w4 (a sad mess who analyses the world and searches pointlessly for the true meanings in life and wants to come up with the ultimate all-encompassing philosophy). I mean, OK, they are not described exactly like that but trust me, that’s the point. But despite all the flaws associated with it, especially in the fields of socialising and tremendous procrastination due to an insane fear of failure, I am actually very much in touch with it. I revel in analysing, in trying to see the bigger picture, to make up my own theory about life and the world. It gives me fuel to go on, it fills me with excitement, it gives me a purpose.

Now, what I kept hearing from Rhett and Link are the things they would hope to run away from. I can’t seem to remember a single positive thing they said about their personalities. All traits they mentioned ( which were all pretty one-dimensional for both I dare say) were presented in the context of torturing them and having to confront them. With these insights in their personalities and the spiritual deconstructions earlier, their old (surprising back then) statement that they are “fundamentally sad people” makes more and more sense. Some of their traits, like Link’s care for perfection to the smallest detail and his moral concerns could have been neutral or positive but, no, they are almost all given as clear negatives or at least as things that have an emotional toll on them.

This gives me the impression that Link and especially Rhett have found comfort in studying the Enneagram and try to find an explanation for what they are like, to feel part of a group, represented in their misery. In short, they focus on the analysis of the flaws of their personalities as a part of who they are and avoid dealing with the root that caused said flaws. Link is more self aware while Rhett still struggles to reach the root of it, which is his childhood. Not that he doesn’t know it but he can’t just deal with the people and the situations that impacted him enough to make him a three. For instance, Rhett seems to believe that he is a natural three that his parents made manifest even more strongly. It could be the case or the threeness we observe in him is the direct product of his parents’ constant judgement. By keeping chanting he needs to “be” instead of “do”, I am not sure Rhett will achieve much. Honestly, the one impactful step he needs to take is to stop caring about what his father thinks and I am sorry to say he is still not near achieving this. Especially when I take into account how scared he was during his videocall with his dad in GMM and how relieved he looked after the call was over without drama. In short, my problem with their take in the Enneagram is that it seems that Three is Rhett’s pack of unresolved issues rather than his complete personality type.

Furthermore, Rhett speaks knowingly about all numbers / personality types which proves he consumes passionately all Enneagram information that is available. For a man of his level of active lifestyle, hectic schedule and impatience, this shows that he indeed seeks comfort in finding a detailed description and an explanation for his personality, for the way he feels and acts. What does this mean? Well, that he does not like the way he feels about himself a lot. Not only that, but he is actually in a search of self. At this point, he is no longer cryptic about it but it is more serious than he lets on. He tries to make sense of himself and he tries desperately to find something in himself to love. I hope there are people in his life who let him know that he is worthy of their love, friendship and appreciation even though he is so deep inside his head that even the affectionate feedback can only help so much. Rhett will start finding some peace only if he takes the one step I mentioned above.

And then it seems that Link’s personality type is also exclusively a byproduct of his childhood and is aggravated by his relationship with Rhett. Link’s perfectionism doesn’t cause him enthusiasm - he just dreads the disturbance of his supposedly perfectly stable world. In all honesty, Link doesn’t strike me as an ambitious person. Link would just love to have his dear routine and a loyal person to share it with. Link needs stability and companionship. He is fine with just one person as long as this person contributes to the stability of their bond. Who that one person is in Link’s life is another story…

Link doesn’t care that much about the creative process and, frankly, he doesn’t care all that much about the comedy. Link cares to keep the environment Rhett and he work stable and safe. For Link, judgement from the audience is not as alarming as Rhett’s frustration because of it. Link cares to ensure that Rhett’s idea will be successful enough to keep working and to keep working together. So Link’s entire self-identification as a one seems to stem from his fear of abandonment and worthlessness only. Link fears he has not much to contribute to Mythical and he tries to counteract that by becoming the ultimate source of management and control. Because if he didn’t even manage the company, then what would Rhett need him for? Hence, Link’s obsession for control is a consequence of his fear, he doesn’t necessarily love to be in control for the sake of it. This is proven by his plane example, which shows that he finally relaxes when he does NOT need to be in control.

Link has been working hard most of his life to ensure his position next to Rhett. This brings even more insight in his resentment for Rhett that explodes from time to time. Link resents Rhett because he tries so hard to be always by his side but due to Rhett’s opportunitism, he can’t tell whether Rhett wants his companionship or he simply needs it for their brand. Even worse, Link dreads that the reason Rhett is his friend is because Link feeds his ego with his loyalty and admiration, because he takes Link for granted and not because he loves Link for who he is.

“Do you care for me or do you revel in the fact that I care for you?”

Now, I can’t get inside Rhett’s head but I doubt he uses people. I believe his genuine care for Link can be found in the weirdest examples - those from which Rhett has nothing to gain i.e getting frustrated when Link doesn’t enjoy food as much. Yes, this is a sign of love. Rhett enjoys food so much that he wants to share that enjoyment with Link. He can’t realise Link’s tongue works differently - he thinks Link is missing out and it frustrates him. Another silly example is Rhett buying Apocalypse equipment for a clearly disinterested Link and probably never getting its money’s worth back. This is important to Rhett for some reason and he is concerned enough to protect careless Link as well despite having no personal gain from it.

The truth is that these two men feed off each other; Rhett keeps Link attached to him to always feel worthy and Link keeps Rhett attached to him to always feel safe. However, the fact that Rhett is almost his entire source of safety and that Link is Rhett’s biggest calibrator of worth is indicative of the levels of love and need. Nevertheless, Rhett and Link are not independent people. They were constantly in search of support from one another and they lost themselves in the process of satisfying others or being safe. This is something they are realising only now.

Link’s fear of abandonment is so big that it frequently leads him to an almost paranoid behaviour. It is crazy that he felt left out when Rhett communicated with the audience during a podcast whose key purpose is to… communicate with the audience. His fear here has two sides: 1) that Rhett didn’t consider him an equally important business partner so he preferred to speak directly to the audience and 2) that Rhett isn’t emotionally invested in him in order to open up to him. And by saying he can deceive people if he needs, Rhett doesn’t help Link overcome his huge insecurities. This is why Link begs Rhett to talk to him about his feelings more. He does not understand whether Rhett loves him or uses him. The notion that Rhett doesn’t truly love or appreciate him is one of his biggest fears in life.

As for Rhett, it is certainly huge growth that he starts opening up and being vulnerable to a few thousand strangers yet it all still derives from his need to be accepted by said strangers as I am afraid that the late disproportionate criticism he gets for silly stuff on Twitter and Tumblr surely don’t help him deal with his issues, no matter how hard he tries. Therefore, Rhett is trapped in a vicious circle. Besides, Rhett was overly sensitive to be hurt when Link stated the obvious; that he was being vulnerable in hopes to be understood and accepted, because that was clearly what Rhett was openly doing. However, having someone discussing openly his vulnerability immediately made Rhett retreat back to his shell because no matter how hard he tries, Rhett hasn’t managed to separate vulnerability from weakness in his mind yet.

Long story short, Rhett and Link might be Three and One respectively but I am not sure they have a good understanding of themselves anyway. They may have figured out their types correctly but they certainly narrow their entire sense of being to their unresolved issues and phobias. They entirely lack a sense of self-worth and they probably have not realised the extent of the traumas in their youth. In the Enneagram language, the nine personality types have nine levels of development. I believe Rhett and Link are either in the average levels or the mildest unhealthy level. They are certainly not in the healthy top three levels.

Their obsession with the Ennegram helps only superficially but they seem to have based an illogically huge part of their self exploration on it. The Enneagram might offer some insight but won’t offer the resolutions they long for and badly need in order to find some relief. The ones that come when you confront your environment instead of overanalysing yourself and beating yourself up because of it.

[sonnetthebard]

On Losing One’s Head

Or, in other words, my entry to @shipwreckedcomedy‘s fanfiction contest. I have had a really fun time reading the works of Washington Irving to prep for this, and it’s only made me more excited for this series. Even though I know in a modern adaptation it may be changed I’m sticking to a lot of the facts that Irving gives us about the Headless Horseman. Thank you to everyone on here who gave me ideas/ inspiration/ let me rant to you for a bit while I figured this out. It took a bit longer than I had anticipated, but I’m really happy with it. This is probably so far from canon, but I got a prompt from the wonderful ‘S’ anon on here and I had to write it. Enjoy!

Genre: Comedy/ Fluff/ Mystery/ A Pinch of Angst

Words: 4249

TL;DR: Ichabod Crane tries to unravel a bit of the Headless Horseman’s past in order to try and figure out where his head might be. 

TW: Minor bullying, Mentions of war, mentions of PTSD, mentions of decapitation

__________________________________________________________

Ichabod Crane navigated the hallways of the school, eyes trained on his feet. He normally wouldn’t allow himself to walk with such a closed posture- it exposed him for how nervous he was (which was, contrary to popular belief, a more recent development in his personality). This town had put him a bit on edge. This town and his roommate, who was as inexplicable as he was persistent, and happened to be the reason he was allowing himself to walk with such a closed posture. He had a series of questions to ask his roommate at the forefront of his mind, and he’d spent a majority of the day figuring out how to word them so that he didn’t sound completely heartless. He didn’t want anything or anyone distracting him, because the talk he was about to have was very important- well, he thought it was anyways. It was important to him. His roommate seemed like a good person, and he really did want to help him (though it seemed like his roommate was doing more ‘helping’ at the moment than Ichabod was). 

Ichabod’s roommate was, of course, the infamous Headless Horseman. It had certainly made his life interesting- especially given that he was only just settling into this new town and his new position. He was just navigating his new life, and now on top of that, he was also trying to find his friend’s head. So far, no luck on that front. He hadn’t had a lot of luck on many fronts. It didn’t seem like his colleagues were particularly fond of him- especially not Douffe Martling or Brom Bones and his cronies. He wasn’t quite sure what it was with Martling other than perhaps a naturally uptight attitude, but he could at least venture a guess on why Brom Bones didn’t like him. It seemed they both had their eyes set on the same woman- which was another front on which Ichabod had not been very lucky. Katrina Van Tassel, the woman his heart had decided to set on, did not seem to reciprocate his affections in the slightest. Mind you Ichabod also found her incredibly hard to read. She was confident and smart, and one could interpret nearly everything she did as flirtatious. But you also got the overwhelming sense when interacting with her that she was not flirting in the slightest. 

Ichabod needed to stop distracting himself, he thought, as pleasant of a distraction as Kat was. He was on a roll. He was trying to get back to his room in a timely matter because (and I cannot emphasize this enough) this conversation was important. It was also a conversation that his friend would prefer to keep confidential, so he needed to get back to his room and have it before anyone could decide to tag along. He wasn’t the only person in Sleepy Hollow who wanted to help the Headless Horseman find his head. In fact, he had many supporters. But this particular conversation was delicate. Ichabod intended to ask how precisely his new friend had come about losing his head. Ichabod believed that perhaps even though this head wasn’t the Horseman’s original one, it may be able to help with some of his memories- physical memories, that was. It would likely be a hard conversation, Ichabod considered. Losing one’s head seemed like it would be traumatic. Remembering that feeling wouldn’t be pleasant for his friend. He would eventually need to share the necessary details with those who were intent on helping him and his friend, but perhaps the Horseman might feel slightly more comfortable having the initial conversation privately where he could express his emotions without judgement- if, of course, he had any. It was more of a precaution. 

Ichabod found himself so consumed in his thoughts that he neglected to notice a foot extended in front of him. He was looking at his feet. He really should have seen it. But he was in a state not uncommon to him where the world within his head had taken precedence over the world outside of it. Ichabod tumbled to the ground with a thud, and it was not long until a roaring chorus of laughter resounded above him. He did not even need to look up to know precisely who he had encountered and what had happened. He did the courtesy of looking up anyways- though it was probably only feeding their egos to see the embarrassment flush on his face. As Ichabod had suspected, the figures of Brom Bones and his three usual companions Tripp, Cal and Blair loomed above him, their bodies racking with every laugh. Ichabod sighed, fixing his glasses and trying not to pay them much mind. The more upset he got with them and their shenanigans, the more satisfied they would be with their results (which meant that they’d be inclined to throw something else his way). He stood, brushing himself off and starting back on his way. Before he could get very far, though, he felt a strong grip on his arm pulling him back. Even once he had stopped walking, it didn’t let go. It seemed Brom wasn’t through terrorizing him yet. 

“Where are you going?” The strapping Brom Bones smirked. It was a smirk Ichabod was all too familiar with, and one that he had very much hoped he wouldn’t be seeing. Brom was holding him up intentionally. He knew Ichabod didn’t want to be there. “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

“Well-” Ichabod started before being cut off.

“You going to try to pick up Katrina?” Tripp teased, pouting and cooing mockingly at the mention of the woman Ichabod had taken a liking took. He sighed as all four men found amusement in that and erupting into laughter again. 

“What? No!” Ichabod blushed.

“Ichabod and Kat, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-” Cal and Blair cooed before Brom raised a hand to signal for them to stop. 

“That’s enough, guys.” Brom told them, trying not to show how much that bothered him. There was only just a hint of jealousy in his tone, but it was enough for the boys to know they’d gone too far. He seemed to size up Ichabod again, before letting go of Ichabod’s arm. Ichabod sighed in relief, thinking that he was finally free... until Brom wrapped an arm around him in a seemingly friendly gesture, putting on his smug smirk again. Ichabod seized up a bit. He was not too fond of physical contact at the best of times, but especially not from Brom Bones. It took everything in him not to scowl. “So if you’re not going to see Kat... what’s the rush getting out of here?”

 “I’m going to have a talk with the Horseman.” Ichabod told him plainly, hoping that was enough to get him out of this. Whatever Brom Bones had against Ichabod, the feeling was entirely mutual.  

“But don’t you, like, live with him?” Cal pointed out. 

“You could literally talk to him any time.” Tripp nodded. 

“Yes, but I’ve spent all day planning this conversation.” Ichabod sighed. There were very few people Ichabod knew who would understand his situation, and these men were most certainly not among them. “I have to do it soon before I forget what I was going to say.”

“It’s just a conversation, man!” Tripp laughed. 

“It’s not just any conversation.” Ichabod told him, getting an idea. “It’s about his head.”

“You’re still on that, are you?” Brom rolled his eyes, letting him go. He knew he didn’t need to hold Ichabod there anymore. Not only did Blair, Tripp and Cal have him surrounded, but... now Ichabod felt socially obligated to stay. Brom Bones was a lot smarter than he let on (at least socially). Most bullies were. 

“Well... yes. I’d like to help him find it.” Ichabod shrugged. 

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Brom warned him in what Ichabod might almost consider to be a genuine tone. He hand a hand through his hair subconsciously, and Blair reached forward once he was done to fix a strand that had fallen in Brom’s face. Brom gave him a clap on the back as a silent ‘thank you’. Ichabod had always found those four men to be strangely close. “Listen, bud... he’s been missing his head a long time.”

“Since before we were born.” Blair added. 

“It’s not like you’re just going to waltz in and find it.” Brom sighed. “This head probably isn’t going to know anything.”

“We don’t know that.” Ichabod countered. “We’ve finally got people taking the search for his head seriously, and I think we’re making good progress!”

“Right... you keep telling yourself that.” Brom rolled his eyes. “Alright, guys, let him go.”

“But you said-” Tripp furrowed his brows. 

“He’s doing enough damage himself.” Brom sighed. The boys cleared a path for Ichabod, and he meekly started to walk away. He felt oddly embarrassed, or ashamed, about what he was doing. He tried to shake it off, but Brom had successfully gotten under his skin and he knew it. Brom chuckled, almost gloating. “Have fun, dork!”

“Thank you?” Ichabod tried, unsure as to how he was supposed to respond to that. 

Ichabod made his way out of the school (but not without a cold glare from Douffe). Perhaps what Brom Bones had said had some merit. His headless friend had been missing his head for a long time. Did Ichabod really think things were magically going to go better this time around? He wasn’t even dealing with the original head. He couldn’t expect to find anything new. But then again... Ichabod himself had also posed a good point. They did seem to be making progress. And how were they supposed to know if his head could ever be found until they tried? No, Brom was wrong. Brom was wrong a lot of the time, but especially about this. He walked down the streets of the town, head down but significantly more aware of his surroundings. He’d learned his lesson- at least for now. His room was within walking distance from the school. In this town, just about everything was within walking distance. He exchanged nods of acknowledgement with a few people on the street, a smile or two. Luckily, he was running into people who knew better than to bother him when he was like this. People like Judy, Rip Jr., Verla, or Matilda. Verla and Matilda probably didn’t want to talk to him anyway. But Judy had given him a nice smile, and it had raised his spirits. It’s funny how small things could do that. 

“Ichabod!” A light voice called out from behind him. Ichabod pivoted, recognizing it instantly. For anyone else, Ichabod would have simply waved, continuing on his way. But this wasn’t anyone. This was Katrina. Ichabod smiled softly upon finding that he was right. It was a dopey sort of grin commonly found in people when they saw the person that brightened their lives. “You’re out early!”

“School ended half an hour ago.” Ichabod furrowed his brows, confused by her implication. 

“Oh, I know.” Kat clarified. “You usually stay a bit longer, though.”

“Oh.” Ichabod nodded. And that was when it hit him: he had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. He’d always been a little socially awkward- especially when he was under as much pressure as he was with Kat. He bit his lip, trying to think of what to say next. Luckily, Kat took care of that for him. 

“Any particular reason you’re out so soon?” Kat asked, finally catching up with him. She kept walking as if silently asking him to walk with her, or maybe telling him it was okay for him to continue on his way. That she would follow. Either way, it was a great comfort to Ichabod.

“I thought of a few questions to ask the Horseman.” Ichabod told her. 

“What kinds of questions?” Kat asked. Ichabod could tell she wasn’t teasing him. She was genuinely interested. But there was also an air of amusement to her that was undeniable, and admittedly rather attractive to Ichabod. It made him feel like she genuinely enjoyed his company. A light blush covered his cheeks.

“Well... I was hoping to ask him about how exactly he lost his head.” Ichabod admitted. “See if maybe his history might be able to help us figure out where to look in the present.”

“That’s a really good idea! Maybe this head will know!” Kat hummed in agreement. “I’ve always wondered about what happened... People say he was a Hessian soldier. You know, during the revolution.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the concept of Hessian soldiers.” Ichabod hummed. “German regiments for hire, if you will, employed by the British to fight in the Revolutionary War. Do you really think he’s a Hessian?”

“That’s what the lore says.” Kat shrugged, smirking. 

“All the more reason for me to talk to him about this alone.” Ichabod decided. He blushed again, not having meant to think aloud like that. “Sorry, I-”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” Kat assured him. “He’s probably not going to want a lot of people around if you’re talking about... you know, war. It should be just you and him.”

“I’m glad you understand.” Ichabod sighed softly in relief. 

“I don’t like to talk about war anyways.” Kat admitted. “I don’t... I mean...”

“I understand.” Ichabod hummed sympathetically. No one liked talking about war. But on top of that, he knew Kat was very against slaughter of any kind. “Have you thought about how to approach it if he has... you know, PTSD?” Kat asked. “It’s pretty common in soldiers, even if this isn’t his original head.”

“I... haven’t.” Ichabod admitted. “I did work out how to ask the in a way that I think will be the least upsetting or offensive.”

“That’s a good first step.” Kat encouraged him. “Just... respect his boundaries. Give him the space and time he needs to answer- if he can answer. Don’t pressure him if he can’t.”

“Right.” Ichabod nodded, taking mental note of those things. “Thank you, Kat.”

“No problem.” Kat smiled softly. It was smiles like those that made appearances in Ichabod’s dreams as he rested his head. She had, Ichabod thought, the most beautiful smile in the world. It was so kind. They approached the inn, and Kat sighed. “Well, this is your stop.”

“It is...” Ichabod chuckled semi-nervously. He stopped, shifting his weight awkwardly on his feet. She had him so nervous that he couldn’t quite stand still. 

“Good luck, Ichabod.” Kat smirked. Ichabod blushed. It seemed that nearly everything Katrina did, intentional or not, made him blush. 

“Thank you!” Ichabod called after her, watching for a few moments as she continued down the street. 

Ichabod sighed, imagining very briefly what their family would look like. He imagined they would be a very handsome family (though the children would get their looks from their mother- he was of the opinion that he was a bit homely). He snapped himself out of it before he could go too far down that rabbit hole. He wondered for a moment if it was weird that he was already thinking that way about a woman he hadn’t even worked up the nerve to ask out. It likely was. But his heart tended pine after things and his mind did no helping, running wild with even the smallest of fantasies. When he was a child, a teacher once told him that his appetite for the fanciful was unsurpassable. He was now rather more a man of reason than he was then, where he was willing to believe just about everything he heard. But his mind did still run wild with whims about more everyday pleasures. Rational joys, like love, romance, and food. Mostly food, until Katrina came along. For a man his size, he had a surprising appetite...

“Hey, Ichabod!” Someone called. Ichabod snapped his head, looking for where it was coming from. Oh. It was Judy again. He waved. “Do you need me to call Lucretia to get you a new key?”

“What?” Ichabod blinked. 

“You’ve been standing there for a while.” Judy pointed out. “Did you lose your key?”

“Oh...” Ichabod blushed. He pulled out his keys, holding them up. “I’m fine!”

“Okay! Just wanted to be sure!” Judy chuckled, going back to her own business.

“Thank you!” Ichabod called after her. It was lovely that she cared. He quickly and carefully opened the door to his room. He saw his friend the horseman busy at work taking a tray of what appeared to be either muffins or cupcakes out of a microwave oven he’d been gifted by the family of one of his students. The room smelled wonderful. “Hello...”

“Oh, hey Ichabod!” The Horseman turned, his- or, rather, her (for now)- hair splaying out behind her in a fan-like motion. She gave him a brief smile before busying herself with her work again. Ichabod liked this head on the Horseman. “I hope you don’t mind, but while you were out I thought you might be hungry when you got home, so... I made some carrot cake muffins.”

“I don’t mind at all.” Ichabod sighed contentedly. So long as she didn’t burn the room down, he had no objections to food. 

“We just have to let those sit for a bit.” The Horseman muttered, removing the last of the muffins from the pan. “There! I’ve got a cream cheese icing in the fridge for when they cool if you want.”

“Lovely.” Ichabod chuckled. 

“How was your day at school?” The Horseman asked. 

“Good.” Ichabod told her, sighing and taking a seat on his bed. The mention of school had reminded him of why he had left school so promptly in the first place. She seemed to be in such a good mood... he hated to ruin it. “Would you... I have a few questions.”

“Oh... sure.” The Horseman shrugged, sitting down on the small chaise in the corner of the room. “What is it?”

“I... know this isn’t your body.” Ichabod bit his lip. “But... do you remember anything about it?”

“I... don’t know. I think, a bit.” The Horseman considered. 

“Do you think you might remember how you lost it?” Ichabod asked carefully. Well, that wasn’t what he’d planned on saying. He winced. “Your head, I mean. Do you remember how...”

“I... can try to.” The Horseman offered. "I don't know what I'll be able to get, though... I don't have the eyes, ears or mind of the original body"

“You could still find something.” Ichabod reasoned. 

“Just give me a moment.” The Horseman nodded, sighing. She closed her eyes for a moment, head in her hands. 

Ichabod gave her space and silence to think. Each new head the Horseman donned seemed to unveil a bit more about his personality. He hadn’t thought to ask about any memories before because it didn’t seem entirely logical to assume that any head other than his own would hold them. But... he’d gotten the idea at school today that maybe the body had a few memories of its own. Like a physical memory. It was silly. And it might lead to nothing. But the chance that it might amount to something was too much for Ichabod to pass us. He was a man of science. And with science comes experimentation. It’s how humanity evolves and grows. This was an experiment that might prove fruitless but was still necessary. Because like many experiments, you can never be certain of what you’re going to find until you conduct it. After a moment, the Horseman raised her head and opened her eyes. 

“Anything?” Ichabod asked cautiously. 

“Not much.” The Horseman shook her head. 

“Not much is better than nothing.” Ichabod blinked, pleasantly surprised. “What did you remember?”

“Well... I don’t have anything visual or auditory... because like I said, those are kind of gone...” The Horseman warned him. “But I can remember... I think the body was fighting. I mean, obviously it was on horseback. That’s how it got its name. But... I think it was holding a gun of some sort. Maybe a musket?”

“Interesting... so perhaps you were a soldier...” Ichabod hypothesized. “Anything else?” 

“Well... you’re not gonna like this.” The Horseman chuckled nervously. She clearly didn’t like it either. “I don’t think this body’s head was cut off.”

“What?” Ichabod blinked. 

“From what I got, it felt more like the head was ripped off. Or blown off. I’m kinda leaning towards it being blown off...” The Horseman winced. 

“With a gun?” Ichabod asked cautiously. 

“I’m thinking something a bit bigger than a bullet.” The Horseman shook her head. “I don’t know what, though.”

“Well, a cannonball would be too big...” Ichabod thought aloud. 

“You know what, I don’t think it would.” The Horseman snapped her fingers. An almost cartoonish ‘lightbulb moment' look graced her features. 

“A cannonball?” Ichabod gulped. 

Well... she was right. he didn’t like that. Because if his friend had lost his head to a cannonball, the odds of it being in good shape were slim. He certainly hoped that this Headless Helper, as he’d named her, was wrong. That maybe the head had been cut clean off. Or that if it hadn’t, it was at least in usable shape. Mind you, he realized, his friend was certainly not around by any natural means, and it was wrong to assume that his head would have been preserved by any natural means either. This entire situation was unlike anything Ichabod had ever been through. It was terrifying... and absolutely thrilling. Ichabod had always imagined himself playing hero, and though these circumstances were odd ones, he was finally living that reality in a way. But back to the matter at hand... perhaps he now had more clues to his Headless friend’s identity.

“I’m sorry...” The Horseman winced. “I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear.”

“Actually, it really helps. Very useful information.” Ichabod assured her. “This is the closest we’ve gotten to finding out who the Horseman is. Thank you.”

“I’m just happy I could help.” The Horseman smiled shyly. 

“Are you okay?” Ichabod asked carefully. 

“I think so.” The Horseman shrugged. “I just... I feel bad for this guy. What he went through sucks.”

“Yes it does.” Ichabod hummed sympathetically. 

“I mean, I guess it was a quick death.” The Horseman reasoned. “I just... wow.”

“I’m sorry for-” Ichabod started. 

“No. Don’t be. I really want this guy to find his head.”  The Horseman cut him off. “I’m fine.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Ichabod nodded, not wanting to push. There was a moment of silence between them. “You know, it’s okay not to be.”

“What?” The Horseman blinked, confused. 

“It’s okay not to be fine.” Ichabod told her. “And if you’re not, or you need anything... I’m here.”

“Thank you.” The Horseman sighed. There was another moment of silence. Ichabod didn’t know what else to say. "I think the muffins have probably cooled enough for us to try. Want one?”

“I would love one.” Ichabod nodded getting up, walking to his desk, and pulling out his notebook. 

And so Ichabod Crane took some rather detailed notes on his findings, however scarce, and his new hypotheses about where they might find his friend’s head. While he did this, he snacked on one (or two, or three) of the Headless Helper’s muffins- which were exceptional. Especially for the grade of the oven they’d been baked in. This head had a knack for knowing precisely what Ichabod needed and providing it to him. The other heads he’d encountered... not so much. It was a finicky business working with his headless friend because with every new head he changed fairly drastically- almost as if he were an entirely different person. What a mess Ichabod had gotten himself wrapped up in... Truly, he’d only come to Sleepy Hollow to teach science. Teaching was his passion, and he was very much enjoying his job in Sleepy Hollow. But his mind had always wandered towards the inexplicable, and that was a term that more than aptly described his friend the Horseman. 

In a sense, Ichabod felt that maybe that had been the true reason he was drawn to this little town. That perhaps a higher purpose did exist in his life than simply to teach. He had always thought teaching was his calling, but perhaps it was simply a step on the journey that was meant to be his life. Or a vessel, he supposed, for it was teaching that had brought him to where he was. Whatever the case may be, Ichabod knew that what he was doing in helping the Horseman felt right. He wasn’t usually a man to trust pure gut instinct, but this was different. This felt like the start of something. Ichabod hoped that it was a good something. He would hate to be on the wrong side of history. The Headless Horseman had been a beloved legend for so long, and Ichabod felt it in his bones that he was now building onto that legend. That was a scary prospect. Because if he made a wrong move, all that he was building could crumble as quickly and as easily as a Jenga tower and leave him buried under the weight of his failure, the villain of a story he had never intended to be written into. 

[bbhyeoliskooks]

Can you do a Beomgyu Imagine where you try to break up with him cause he keeps ditching plans with you to hang out with his friends and he begs you for a second chance and doesn't leave until you agree?

ᓍृ∗੭ᐝ 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐃𝐨 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 ᓍृ∗੭ᐝ

You find that it’s best if the two of you break up.

You find that it’s best if the two of you break up.

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

Pairing: Beomgyu x Reader (female)

Genre: 3 cups of angst, but the 4 cups of fluff overwhelms it in the end !!

Warnings: a cheesy and cute ending, cursing 

Song: Best Part

(Yo, even if this seems like a lot of angst... you need to read to the end !! It’ll be all worth it, I promise. Also, I’m so sorry to the anon who requested this that it took long... I didn’t expect it to, so I hope it’ll all be good in the end! Also, unedited due to school !!)

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

For heck’s sake, where did you go wrong?

Where or what did you go wrong in your relationship?

You don’t remember doing anything destructive that would damage your relationship with Beomgyu, so why did he keep ditching you for those friends with his?

Every day he would arrive home late, his newly dyed blonde hair tangled in a mess as if had been doing something extensive for the whole day. He would place his jacket you gifted him last year on the tall chair beside your bed while you asked him how is day went. Only doing that would snap something in him, believing that you were being a pest. 

You got used to it, more or less.

On nights where you would actually beg him for cuddles or a little bit of attention, he would push you off to talk to his friends on the phone. Being nosy, you would try to listen to what they were saying, but Beomgyu would whisper quietly before going to the bathroom. You wanted to go there with him, perhaps pretend to use the toilet, but he would only shoo you away to go to the one downstairs. If you remembered correctly, the longest one was until three in the morning though you weren’t counting. 

You checked the electric bills the next morning, and the one for his phone was off the charts compared to normal. Maybe he had to do a favor for them, but it was a constant cycle where he would ignore you almost every day just to "help” his friends.

Not being able to anything but watch your heart slowly but surely break, you picked up a few clues that could possibly help you in this mess.  

First was the ever growing curiosity that worried you, but he would only push you off since it really wasn’t your business. Each time he would glare at you as if you had done something wrong, and the part that frustrated you the most was that he was adamant on not telling you! Then was the fleeting glances he would send you when he checked his phone for messages. They would usually come during the time where you two had a date inside, so that just extremely brought down the romantic atmosphere you put up.

Third, but not the last was that he’d get angry at you when you snooped a little bit on his phone as he took a lengthy shower. This happened on the other day, specifically just a week ago. You could understand him since it was his privacy, but he was receiving a few texts from someone named Mira. There were no emoticons or emojis at the end of her contact but when you called for him to pick it up he rushed towards you, his lips tightly painted in a line. There was this mean snarl on his face when he aggressively grasped it from you, telling you to screw off.

That night you cried alone, nose dripping with snot and pathetically lingering as you waited for your boyfriend to come back and say sorry.

It must’ve been worry or something of the sort if you were acting like this. You weren’t jealous since you knew you could trust him, but why was he being suspicious? He never kept any secret from you, telling you right away because he wanted at least one person to know. 

This kept going for a few weeks already so, quickly you got frustrated. Wasn’t he your boyfriend? Definitely not his friend’s, and you were his girlfriend. Trust was vital but with the time he kept losing to talk to his other friends, you couldn’t bring up the issue. There was nothing else you could do but feel your strong relationship crumble little by little each time he avoided you. 

So... for the last time, where did you go wrong?

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

“Hey, Gyu? Do you want to get ice cream today?” You tugged a little on his soft, winter seasoned sweater as he sent you a small grin. You noticed right away that it was not genuine, but you ignored it in hopes that he wouldn’t say something rude about it.

Well, at least he smiled at you now! Maybe he was going to say yes for today! You specifically checked his schedule for an answer yesterday, so you hoped that he could spend time with you and only you. You even pulled out your puppy dog eyes today, so it was going to work!

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I want to hang out with my friends today. I hope you can understand.”

He put on his heavy jacket, not caring to say goodbye to you. He seemed too anxious to leave, running to the front door. Little did he know that he took your broken heart with him, purposefully forgetting to kiss you on the cheek as a goodbye. You hid your frustrated tears well this time. 

You opened the door shortly after he left to see him excitedly get into his friends’ car, but you noticed that there was a woman in the front seat. You had never seen her before, who could she be?

You internally slapped yourself on the forehead, becoming frustrated at yourself for thinking too deep about this. But the fact that he had forgot about an important date weighed on your mind, and you concealed your feelings hoping that he would do something sweet for you later. 

Even in melancholy situations like this, he never failed to call you his princess... not to mention, that it was your third anniversary too.

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

Weeks had gone by, and he still kept this up. The long phone calls, the glares, especially the sudden disappearing whenever both of you had a date- it was safe to say that you were drained from it. 

You came to the conclusion that he didn’t love you the same way anymore. He couldn’t when he kept pushing you away from his life, but what was the cause? When did he stop seeing you like that? Were you too boring for someone like him?

There were too many what ifs and questions that kept repeating over and over in your head which caused a pounding headache in your head. You felt a little faint, although forcing yourself to do the laundry which had been laying there for a while now. 

You strolled tiredly to the room where Beomgyu was scrolling and texting on his phone. Of course, he was... you rolled your eyes, putting in some effort to have a sing-song voice in front of him. 

“Hey, could you give me your shirt? It’ll go with the laundry I’ll do tonight.” 

“Um, sure. I could do it, if you’d like!” 

Well, that was disgustingly sweet for him to offer! So now he was going to pretend that he loves you, huh? You snarled at him, grimacing at how innocent and pure his eyes were when he glanced up at you from his device. “No, Gyu. I’ll do it myself; just leave me alone.”

Beomgyu gulped nervously at your cold, snappy tone. Something must’ve been bothering you, but he didn’t want to say anything in fear that it would annoy you even more. Instead, he threw the shirt he was currently wearing towards you, to which you caught with ease. You muttered a thank you under your breath while he went back to texting his friend.

Almost fifteen minutes passed by when you separated all the clothes since you were too preoccupied with your thoughts. Your eyes landed on his shirt beside you. It was a bit dirty with a few speckles of brown on the side, but you figured it must’ve been his friends pranking him like they did every once in a while.

You grabbed the shirt on its side, inspecting it closely in the black of the room. There was a prominent spot on the sleeve, and you squinted your eyes to see it. Once you realized what it was, you dropped the shirt smack dab on the floor in repugnance. 

It was a lipstick stain, hell it was a fucking rouge lipstick stain!

Hiding your face in your hands then threading your fingers through your hair was enough to show that you were frustrated. He was being unfaithful to you, and it was right under your nose! You rubbed the tear that had already fallen out of you right eye. This was it. This was the evidence that you had been searching for, for a long time.

Jumping to conclusions wasn’t the best but... certainly you could because he had been avoiding you this whole time. With the way he was acting lately, it was no doubt that he had probably lost interest in you. Of course you felt guilty that you suspected him of cheating with you, but this- this just took the cake. It was the icing on the top, telling you that hell, he didn’t love you anymore.

He was cheating on you with another woman. For how long now? You didn’t want to know, trying to save a bit of blissful ignorance from the happy scenarios you made up in your head every night before you went to sleep although he was right next to you. So close, but still so far away was a good way to put it.

The fancy perfume that wasn’t your own proved it all, as well as the lipstick stain on the side of his shirt’s sleeve. 

Straightaway, you sprinted into the room, bumping into the closet door from how fast you were running. Your cold hands quivered while you gathered a few clothes from the hangers. Beomgyu sleepily walked in, rubbing his eyes at the sudden brightness from the light of the room.

“Princess...? Is there something wrong?” Hearing his voice was enough for you to dash out of that condensed room. 

Crap! You totally forgot to be quiet when he was sound asleep. There was no time to worry about that though, as you snatched your phone on the drawer beside. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows at your hastiness, perplexed at what you were doing when it was the middle of the night. He grabbed your quivering arms while you struggled to get the suitcase under the bed that you two shared.

A suitcase? What would you need that for? Unless you were leaving... all of the fatigue that dragged him down simply disappeared when he noticed that you were putting more and more of your possessions in. 

“Y/N? Y/N, what are you doing?!” 

“Leaving, Beomgyu!”

“Stop it! Why are you leaving?”

“Because... because- you already know! Stop pretending that you don’t want me to leave!”

A mocking scoff was permitted from his mouth, and he tapped on your shoulder several times to get your attention. You weren’t being serious, right? 

“Y/N! You need to listen! I don’t fucking want you to leave!”

You continued to ignore him, shoving whatever things you could fit in that suitcase. “That’s your fault, not mine! Don’t expect me to stay with you when you ruined us!”

He ruined the two of you? You were pulling on his leg, he was sure of it. There was nothing that he did to hurt your feelings, if he remembered accurately! He searched his memory, but nothing turned up. “What are you saying?”

He waited for you to answer him, but you only threw your phone into the back of your pockets ignoring him like he did to you for weeks. Rolling his eyes at how strange you were being, he snatched involuntarily at your hands that was weak against his will. 

“Stop putting more clothes into that damn thing and talk to me!”

“And what for?! Talk about our breakup? Because we’re over- if you haven’t got the memo.”

If you had said that when he was wide awake, he would be on his feet flinging you on the bed so that you would talk it out like adults... not in that way though!

“O-our breakup?! We aren’t breaking up! You can’t do that!” Those were the only things he could say in his hazy mind, willing to put up even a weak fight so he wouldn’t have the love of his life leave him for good. 

“Watch me, then! You know that I can, and I will! You can’t stop me from-” he instantly wrapped his arms around you when he comprehended what you had said. You can’t leave him! He was just about to do something for you, you couldn’t leave now when things were going his way for the first time!

He inhaled the familiar scent of your shampoo that you applied just earlier today when your relationship seemed perfect. To Beomgyu, of course, not knowing of the pain he unintentionally put you through. Still he went on, tears of agony trickling against the both of his cheeks. He was having a difficult time breathing through his nose and mouth, clearly in disbelief that you were actually going to leave the door of his heart. 

“Princess... please. Please, don’t leave me. You promised you wouldn’t, so please just don’t leave me.”

“Beomgyu, stop it. I-I said,” you harshly scratched against his arms, desperate to leave the embrace that used to have you in euphoria. Used to.

“I’m leaving! I was so stupid for always staying with you when you called me a pest every single fucking day! I don’t want to be with someone I love if they can’t even give me what I deserve!” Finally you pushed yourself out of his grasp, backing up into the wall so he wouldn’t pull a manipulative move like that again. He can’t just say that when he knew he was breaking your heart for the other slut he was seeing!

The fact flew past his head, and he just held on even tighter to you in fear that he was going to lose you. “I don’t understand. Why do you need to leave? Did you suddenly stop loving me? Tell me! You know that we’re absolutely perfect for each other, and that’s the way it should be.”

“We were, Beomgyu. We were perfect until you cheated on me.”

“Cheated on you?! You think I would cheat on you?! Wow, that says a lot about your trust with me.”

“Can you really blame me though? These past few months gives the whole package away, not even a damn hint. And then the repulsive perfume that was leaking off your shirt for sure isn’t mine, there’s nothing to say. It’s so obvious you’re spending time with another woman you love... while I’m here waiting in the wee hours of the night for you to come back.”

“Y/N, I-” “you what? You’re sorry? Sorry isn’t enough to make me stay.”

With one harsh push away, you grabbed your suitcase ready to leave. The front door was just right there, so you rushed to open the doorknob. He couldn���t see you like this when you were about to break down! You promised long ago to yourself that he wouldn’t see you cry, and you planned to keep it unlike him and his promise to love you forever.

When you were just a footstep away from unlocking the door, you heard a crescendoing yell from your ex. 

“No, listen!”

He ripped the bag from your hands, all of the clothes that you had managed to pack falling out. Mistaken and shocked that he had arrived home early, you easily forgot to zip it up. You went to grab them smack dab against the floor, but he had grabbed your hand tightly so that you weren’t able to go away from him for the last time. 

You hissed at his seemingly icy touch. He really had the audacity to do things like this when he hurt you in the first place! “Why the fuck are you ordering me to do when you’re cheating?”

Beomgyu shook his head back and forth, searching for the answer on the wall as if it were there to tell you what he had been doing. “Y/N... please understand; that’s not it.”

“Then what is it? Explain the shit that you’ve done to me this past month! It’s crystal clear that you’ve stopped loving me a long time ago, and I can’t do anything about it! So, what did I do wrong?! Please, do tell me! I don’t want my last memory of you to be in vain-” before you could end what you were going to say, he smashed his face against yours in desperation, kissing you so you could be quiet. He was planning for it to be one that caught you off guard for a little while, but that didn’t happen since he was too caught up in what was happening to realize that he still had things to say. 

You responded back to his kiss eagerly, submitting to the warm lips that pressed passionately against your own. It had been so long since he had done something like this, you couldn’t get enough when he only brought you deeper. A couple of seconds had passed when the two of you had to gasp for air. He reluctantly pulled away, smirking a little bit just to tease you when you turned red at the embarrassment of him knowing you loved his kisses. 

“That was the only way to make you shut up, princess. Consider listening to me, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

He took a deep breath of air, the pace of his breathing becoming quicker when he tried to speak. You looked away- anywhere from his twinkling eyes, feeling extremely disappointed in yourself for getting affectionate with him once again. The train of thoughts that reminded you over and over again that he was a cheater was shattered when he gently tucked a hair strand behind your eyes, afterwards brushing his thumb against your cheek. 

“I’ve been ditching you to go to my friends because I wanted to surprise you. I thought that it would be a short and sweet month of preparation since they kept helping me, but some things got in the way. I guess the stress got to me, and I yelled at you. I’m sorry...”

Oh no... your heart dropped to your stomach, horror only an understatement at how rude you were being. Immediately, you had to apologize for being such a dumb idiot for not trusting in him. He was being so kind to you while you accused him for being with another woman. You felt terrible, now knowing that he only wanted to make you happy. That was until he placed a blissful kiss on your hand, the edges of your lips becoming a small curve from how truthful he was being. 

“I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, so I asked one of their girlfriends to help me with one of these things.” You tilted your head, a bit puzzled at his statement. “Like what?”

“Just close your eyes for a second.” He booped the tip of your nose lovingly, and you glared at him to hurry up and stop teasing you. “I don’t see your point-” he quietly chuckled at your endearing stubbornness. “Just do it, please?”

You heard the shuffling of his clothes, growing confused each second. Once he told you to open your arms, you found him kneeling in front of you, his eyes shiny and pure from the tears that had fallen down. Even in the dim light of the room, you could see that he was smiling softly. 

When your eyes roamed farther down even more, landing on the luminous diamond perched in his hand, you raised in eyebrow in confusion.

Wait, was that a ring...? 

Its band was golden and shimmering overwhelming the darkness surrounded the two of you. It was the middle of the night when you decided to leave him, but you couldn’t when he suddenly pulled that beautiful thing out! There was a diamond in the middle, reflecting many bright colors off the moon when he pointed it towards you.

You gasped in shock. Where could’ve he had the time to buy something as gorgeous as this? Surely, he wasn’t going to say those sweet words...

“You’ve always dreamed for this moment to arrive, right? Well, I guess I should say them now just so that you know that I truly, dearly love you the most.”

“We can’t end like this because of my foolish ignorance. If we did that, I know my world will fall apart without you. You really are the coffee that I need in the morning, I can’t do this without you.” 

“We’re soulmates, and you can’t ever say that we aren’t. You’re going to be bind to me forever, so I guess I just have to ask this one time.” His voice trembled when he looked back at you, the courage that he had built up for a while crumbling when you raised a surprise eyebrow at him. He wasn’t going to be surprised if you rejected him from the way he had been treating you, but he just needed to ask. 

“Will you marry me, princess?”

Waves of realization rushed over you again and again while you watched one of the tears in his eyes fall out from how happy he was to finally ask you the question that you’ve been pining for all your life. He was going to marry you after three years of your relationship! For the first time in forever, you didn’t need to wonder what life could be without him because you knew that he was going to be by your side until the two of you went to heaven together as breathtaking angels.

This journey of prosper was going to be difficult, but yet it was so beautiful. He was yours, and you were his. Even if it takes a long time for the two of you to really fall in love with each other, you’re glad that it’s him and only him. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You threw your arms around him in pure joy, relishing in the way that he had hugged you back with the same, reciprocated love. Giggling, you hoped never to let go of the warm embrace he enclosed you in, tightly gripping the back of his head as if he would disappear any second. You shut your eyes, sniffling silently at the precious feeling he had gifted you after a stressful argument. Only he could make you feel this special, if not being your fiance wasn’t enough. 

What other answer could be, if it wasn’t already a yes?

“O-of course, my prince!” 

With one strong, effortless pull, he took you into his arms and swung you around while you both laughed from the euphoria that was rushing through your veins. His smile was so big this time, and you took the opportunity to reciprocate the same delight. It seemed as if everything had stopped in time, reminding you that everything was going to be fine.

He slowly set you down on the floor again, holding you in his arms as you gathered your effort to stand up straight. There were tears in his eyes, but he didn’t want to show you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. 

“Thank gosh, you said yes. I’ve been dreaming you to say that for a long time...” He somehow brought himself much more closer to you, his nose pressing against your cheek. There was a faint smell of his cologne from the sweater that he owned, and he inaudibly groaned in your ear. Your saccharine perfume was always the best for him, whether you realized it or not, but he found it absolutely precious whenever you wore his home clothes looking so innocent like that. You just grinned at his little wish, pecking him on the cheek. “How could I not? You said it yourself, we’re soulmates.”

Like the many times in rough patches of this relationship, you realized that you couldn’t go wrong in this relationship as long as you remembered to trust Beomgyu. 

*·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.**·✧ ऀืົཽ *✧.*

Posted: 9/29/20- 8:18pm

Tags:

[trainsinanime]

I would be really happy to see a meta of yours debunking the cold take that Ladybug supposedly doesnt care about Chat Noir

Oh, a request! Awesome, thanks anon!

And a good question as well. Yeah, I’ve seen a few people argue that. For this issue, as with most stupid headcanons, the best way to deal with them is to just watch the show and look at all the small and big ways she makes it absolutely clear that she appreciates him.

In Befana, she’s genuinely happy when he wishes her a happy birthday. 

In Dark Cupid, Marinette goes “he’s under mind control. Guess I finally have an excuse to… uh, I mean, guess I have to kiss him” with zero hesitation. 

In Glaciator, she is genuinely distraught when she learns that she has to turn him down romantically, and does so in the most respectful way possible.

Chat Blanc, main timeline Marinette: Her pain and angst in this episode is a bit about Paris being destroyed, a bit fear for her life, but mostly concern for her friend.

Basically every single two-parter or special features a scene where Marinette is at the end of her rope, and it is reassurance and often a hug from Chat Noir that gets her going again. Origins, Heart Hunter, NY Special…

It may sometimes seem like she doesn’t because she gets annoyed at his antics, or may just plain disagree with his decisions. Fair enough. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate him. Relationships, if they’re well written at least, are not just full unconditional support of everything. They have their sides that work well and their problems, misunderstandings, and plain different disagreements. But there is a wide gulf between being sometimes annoyed, and not appreciating him. The NY special, among other things, was all about that.

The best argument that could be made might be Reflekdoll, where they swap jobs, and she makes his look easy, while he struggles with hers. I know this has made a lot of fans very angry. How dare a show insist that it’s female lead is simply the best? Now we don’t have time to unpack all that, and there has been a lot of great meta written by other people about that episode specifically. But I think it’s not really relevant anyway. Reflekdoll made it clear that she’s the leader, and for good reason. Just like every single other episode did. That does not mean she doesn’t appreciate him, or that she could do this without him. Yes, she has fun, she teases him, he teases her. That shows how comfortable they are around each other.

He is the heart of the team, the emotional task leader, and she is absolutely dependent on him doing that, and loves him for it. Anything else is an AU. And compared to other shows (anyone remember Lucy in Fair Tail?), he actually gets to be very competent for a “the heart of the team” kind of character. 

So in summary, that take is obviously wrong.   It’s been proven wrong over and over again. For me, the interesting question is why people keep saying it anyway.

People don’t say Marinette doesn’t appreciate Chat because it’s true, they say it because they want it to be true. It fits their mental model of the show, which can be very different from the actual show.

One big shared mental model here is the „salt“ one: People think Marinette shouldn’t appreciate Chat, because they think he’s a horrible person, a sexual abuser and so on. This has no basis in reality. I think it’s important to note with salt that salt is only at best partly a reaction to anything in the show; mostly it is about expressing teenage frustration. That’s why you get so many tropes in them that objectively don’t make sense, like that whole „MDC“ business, or that the aggression is all tiny stuff in a world full of literal supervillains. In other words, we can safely ignore all that. 

The other side is the Adrien centric one, which I see far less off. It overlaps with “Marinette is horrible actually”, usually “Marinette is a creepy stalker”, and sometimes “Marinette is a Mary Sue who isn’t getting punished enough for her mistakes”. I honestly have no idea where those are coming from, since they are rarely in well-thought fanfics or meta posts; mostly they’re in short Tumblr text posts with too many exclamation points. But the idea that misogyny plays a part is almost certainly true. I have also seen some people criticize Marinette for stringing Chat along, which is clearly wrong. She’s always made her boundaries perfectly clear, and I would argue that he has always understood them - even if he hopes she changes her mind. The mindset that "friendzoning is bad" is toxic, and the show makes it very clear that it doesn’t believe in that. Yes, being in love with someone who doesn’t love you romantically is painful, but the show doesn’t put moral blame on anyone for that.

TL;DR: Marinette obviously loves and appreciates Chat Noir. There is no valid basis for claims to the contrary.

[tickle-bugs]

I had two people ask for some advice on starting up/running a blog, so I thought I’d make a little post for anyone else looking for advice! There’s no one right way to run a blog and I am by no means an expert. This is just a compilation of some of the things I’ve learned :) 

Feel free to add advice to this!

- The first thing is something I cannot stress enough. Write for yourself first. You will be absolutely miserable if you’re only writing for attention. I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s so incredibly important. If you don’t like a prompt, fandom, or scenario? You don’t have to write for it! A personal example: I’m a theatre kid and total musical nerd. I could probably write some compelling Dear Evan Hansen or Hamilton headcanons if I wanted to, but I don’t. That’s fine! I’m allowed to say I won’t write for it and deny prompts/requests for those fandoms. 

- Set boundaries. This is a very mixed community with all sorts of creators and participants with hands in different baskets. Don’t want minors to interact? Put minors DNI in your bio. SFW only? Put it in the bio. No RP? Bio. This goes for private conversations/askbox/other interactions as well. If someone comes into your askbox/dms and says something that makes you uncomfy, shut it down. 

- My advice is more geared towards writing than art or video, but I suppose you could apply this advice as well. Make what makes you happy! If you’re only in one fandom, feel free to stay there and make content for it. Multi-fandom? Excellent! Completely non-fandom? Epic! Make the content that you want to see and the content that makes you happy to create, especially if you’re in a more niche fandom/area. 

- Organization. ...I’ll admit this one is more of a personal pet peeve than something urgent, but it is something that people positively respond to. If you have some sort of consistency/organization to your blog, it’ll make it easier and more enjoyable for people to navigate. Make a fandom list/indicate your fandoms somehow (mostly for prompt purposes. people can’t read your mind, so it’s important to tell them what you will write for and what you won’t, however you want to do that)! 

Make a masterpost/link your fic tag! Use a fic tag of some kind. Give your fics summaries and leave a little bit of the fic above the ‘read more’ to intrigue folks (look at #my fics and my masterpost for basic examples of how I do this, if you need!). Use read mores. Please use read mores (if you can, idk if they’re on mobile. regardless no one wants to encounter a three thousand word block of text on their dash). (No seriously though, organize your blog, even if it’s super simple. literally just a ‘mine’ or ‘my fics’ or ‘[pseud] writes’ and a fandom tag. It’ll make it easier for people to find your stuff and support you)

- Practice general internetiquette. Please remember that the people in this community are real people with feelings, boundaries, and lives outside of the blog that they run. Be genuine and people will respond to you! Don’t manipulate people into likes/reblogs/attention. No one wants to be on the other end of that. Being in this community isn’t a transaction or a mosh pit, it’s an experience.  

- Be ever-so-liberal with the block button. Someone’s user makes you uncomfortable? They give you bad vibes? They’re a minor/older than you and you don’t want them interacting with your content? You don’t wanna see their blog for some reason? Block em. This goes for anons too. That’s what the button is for. Don’t feel guilty for using it. Use it. 

- How you write is 100% a personal choice and not really something that I can give advice on, but embrace your style! take prompts if you want, or don’t. Write oneshots, series, drabbles, or novels. Write romantic, or don’t. Etc. Change things up if you feel like it. Do what you want. Your blog, your style, your rules. 

- Numbers matter. Don’t let them define you. This is a bit of a harder one to explain, but I will try. I often say that I don’t care about numbers, and I really don’t, but that’s not to say that I don’t see them and they have zero effect on me. I absolutely notice and am bummed if a fic doesn’t get notes, or at least the notes that I was expecting. That is entirely normal and okay to experience. What isn’t okay, though, is creating for the sake of getting notes/numbers/attention (re: write for yourself first, internetiquette). If you find yourself relying on tumblr for gratification and a reward, I implore you to take a break. I’m not your therapist or your parent, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but when you make things only for the sake of notes, people notice. Celebrate your milestones. Know that it’s okay to be bummed about low notes/celebrate getting plenty. Just make sure that you don’t depend on the numbers for your happiness, or you will be miserable.

- You’re (probably) doing this for free. You are providing people content: a service. Produce as much or as little as you’re comfy with, but always remember that. No one is entitled to what you make. If someone asks you for headcanons, sends a prompt when prompts are closed, etc, and you don’t feel like fulfilling it? You have no obligation to do that. Getting commissioned is another story entirely, but as long as you’re making free content, you have zero obligation to do anything for anyone and certainly no time constraints. It can take me months to finish prompts, and that’s okay. I do them when I do them and I fill them how I want to. If my prompts are closed, I deny new ones until I’m ready to accept them. Make yourself happy first.

- How you interact with others is up to you! It’s generally considered good practice to like/reblog your mutuals fics/art, but this is not necessarily a hard and fast rule. I veeeeeery rarely reblog fics for fandoms that I’m not in, even from my mutuals. What you can do to show your support (and you should try and show support somehow. No one is in competition. Everyone’s in your boat, whether they have no followers or 1k) is send an ask/reply to the post/leave tags to let the author know you liked it. Like the fic and don’t reblog it, if you don’t want to. Just make sure you show your mutuals (and others in general!) roughly the same support they show you, however you decide to do that. Treat others how you want to be treated, as cheesy as it sounds :)

- Don’t repost content that isn’t yours without express permission from the original creator, and credit them appropriately. If you see a cute piece of tickle art and the artist doesn’t want it reposted? Don’t repost it. Don’t post fics/videos/gifs that aren’t yours (obviously if it’s like a scene from a movie/a clip on youtube that’s different, but don’t take credit for things you didn’t make, including ideas). Can’t tell you how frustrating it is to have work stolen from you. Don’t be that person. ‘Credit to original artist’ and ‘credit unknown’ is total bullshit btw. Link/tag the creator in the original post and make it clear you don’t own the content. Best practice is to ask the original creator if they’re okay with reposting, work inspired by or connected to theirs, etc. This goes doubly for saving/downloading someone’s fics. 

- It is not illegal for a minor to have normal, nonsexual, healthy friendships with people older than them. There’s a weird attitude that minors have nothing of value to offer adults besides a relationship/sex, which is...not true? Minors are thinking, living human beings with feelings, thoughts, and opinions. You can talk to them like normal people, because they are. Just obviously don’t talk about/introduce sex or endanger them. Minors don’t bring up sex/activities you’re underage for with an adult. IDK this isn’t a seminar just...don’t be weird. Adults can offer great life experience, support systems, and the basic joys and needs of human connection. Minors can too. Mind your business unless someone’s actually in danger. The next point is a caveat, though: 

- If you’re a minor, don’t interact with NSFW blogs/blogs with ‘Minors DNI’, NSFW blogs don’t interact with minors, etc etc. Not your parent or whatever but this is pretty common sense and it’s for everyone’s safety, but especially the NSFW person. internettiquette!

- If you use your TK blog as a side blog (meaning you have another blog as your main blog, not two separate accounts) and don’t want your main exposed, that is up to you. I recommend not liking posts. Also, follow people that you trust. These actions route through your main blog and your main will show up in the notes. You can reblog from a sideblog. If you want to send an ask “as your tk blog”, send an anon and sign it somehow, like ‘hey :) // @/tickle-bugs’. It should tag you in the post so you get a notification when it’s answered!

- Find your people! As an anxious person this one has been hard for me, so I know it’s hard for a lot of people. Fandom is literally a community of shared interest. Peachy and I have an iron bond almost two years later and we met talking over shared interests. You can absolutely find your people here. If someone makes you happy, strike up a conversation! Send an ask! You never know what doors it might open or whose day you might improve :)

- If you were an anon/lurker on someone’s blog and they inspired you to write/submit/start your own, sign your messages!! the common form that I see is either an emoji or [noun/context of the ask]!anon (prodigal!anon (i miss u every day), butterfly!anon, etc.) Let us know how to find and support you!! Those messages produce good brain juice. 

- The big finale: Have fun. If you’re not having fun here, maybe you could tweak something to make things enjoyable. Running a blog is like driving a car. Keep your hands on the wheel, respectfully indicate your intentions (flashing lights optional), and be safe. Poebody’s nerfect, y’know. If you make a mistake, course correct. I’m by no means perfect. Your favs aren’t either. Just do your best and have a good time :)

@rosytickles and the anon in my inbox, I hope this helps! Thank you for asking me, I’m very honored that you value my opinon/experience/advice. I apologize if I come off as preachy or aggressive, I envisioned grabbing my younger self by the lapels and shaking me vigorously while I wrote this. Probably a bad idea. 

Anywho, hope it helps. Anyone with questions, additions, or comments, my askbox is open! Just be constructive, is all I ask. 

[marybethsjournal]

Fare You Well, Dear Sean

Summary: Karen finds out what happened to Sean in Rhodes

Pairing(s): Sean Maguire x Karen

Warning(s): kidnapping (Jack), major character death, religion talk, reference to vom!t, vague thoughts of suicide, super vague implication of pregnancy(?)

Word Count: 1749

A/N: To the anon that asked for Karen x Sean fluff, this is not it lol. Yours is coming, but this is just pure sadness

Also, here’s the link to the song from RDR2 that inspired my title: https://youtu.be/S5N-nLY32KA

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29829786

Today was absolute chaos. It had started out normal enough. Karen had woken to Sean shaking her wildly just like she always did when he actually made himself useful and went on a job outside camp. He thought she cared so much about what he was doing for the day. He hadn’t gotten the hint that she didn’t care. Well maybe she cared just a little… but not much! She knew that he wanted her to be impressed and think that he was some sort of hero, but Karen had a strict rule against getting impressed by stupid men. Especially stupid men named Sean Maguire.

“Miss Jones! Wake up and give your suitor a kiss goodbye!”

“In your dreams, Sean.” Karen mumbled, opening her eyes and swatting her hand at him.

“I always was told I’m a dreamer. My da-”

“No, not today. Too early.” Karen cut him off. Sean’s face fell for half a second, barely detectable, before a smile was plastered on his face again.

“You’re right, it is early. You know what they say, though, the early bird gets the worm! Sad to say that my worm-” Sean was going down a path that Karen did not like the looks of.

“Sean! That’s disgusting!” Sean laughed, glad he was able to get a reaction out of her. Any attention from Karen was good attention, at least in his mind. 

Karen patted the ground next to her, signaling for him to sit. “Where you boys off to today, then?”

Sean's face lit up as he sat down next to her, happy to be able to tell of the important job that he was going to go on today, “The Grays need security so naturally they called upon Dead Eye Maguire. Nothing gets past me! I could do it by myself, you know, but I decided to let Bill, Micah, and Arthur on the job. Poor boys needed something to do.”

Karen rolled her eyes at the inflated story Sean just told, but upon hearing that Micah would be there, she felt her instincts screaming that this job wasn’t such a good idea. All of Micah’s plans were terrible, truth be told, but Dutch thought differently, for some reason. “Be careful, alright. I don’t trust Micah as far as I can throw him.”

“Ahhh he’s a bastard but he ain’t got nothing on ol’ Sean Maguire. Don’t you worry your pretty little mind about that.”

Karen sighed, remembering that anytime she expressed any concern, Sean’s ego grew. “Forget I said anything.”

A silence, neither particularly comfortable or uncomfortable, grew between them. Karen thought that for once, maybe Sean was just going to leave her alone and go on about his business. But then he wouldn’t be Sean.

“Can I have my kiss now?” Sean puckered his lips and leaned forward. Karen could hardly find it in herself to not slap him.

“Hell no. Go bother someone else.” She tried to shoo him but he wouldn’t leave, not that she particularly expected him to.

“I know you love me, you should just stop fighting and admit it. I’m irresistible”

“I wish I was resistant to you” 

“You’ve got to stop wishing such pain onto yourself,” Sean paused for a second before remembering something that he apparently deemed far more important than further pumping up his ego. “You feeling better today?”

Karen sighed. No she was not feeling better, not at all. She’d been feeling worse and worse every day since she had first fallen ill a little over a week ago. She appreciated Sean asking but didn’t feel like worrying him (and she especially didn’t want to confide in him about what she thought may be causing his illness). “Maybe a little. I’m fine, I promise.”

“Karen, you puked on my shoes last night.” Sean pointed out. 

“Ugh, okay, maybe I’m not fine, but I will be. I’ll be alright, Sean.” Karen’s tone grew softer at the end.

“I’ll pick you up some cola syrup in town. Maybe that’ll help?” 

“That’s not gonna make me kiss you, Sean.” Karen teased.

“I know. Just want to help, is all.” Sean took Karen’s hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Cause I love you, I really do.”

Karen sighed, feigning exasperation. “Oh alright, come here, you.” She pulled Sean in for a quick kiss. It lasted no more than two second but it was more than enough to make Sean happy.

“See everyone, she loves me!” Sean yelled way too comfortably for Karen. He was practically floating on air, skipping across camp. 

Sean had already gotten up onto his horse before Karen yelled back at him,”I do not, you ass!”

Several hours later, the whole gang had turned to chaos. Something had happened to Jack, he was nowhere to be seen. Karen had thought woefully that when no one was watching, maybe he had tried to go swimming in the lake and had drowned. The thought sickened her. But soon enough, Kieran came forward and said he had seen some men come by and had thought they were coming for a meeting. Since no meeting had taken place, it was then assumed that someone had taken Jack. Karen hoped against hope that he was safe.

Karen, trying desperately to comfort Abigail, barely noticed when Micah, Arthur, and later on, Bill returned to camp. And she certainly didn’t notice that Sean didn’t join them. It wasn’t long after Bill returned, however, that Reverend approached her, a solemn look in his eyes.

“Miss Jones, I need to take you somewhere private to talk.” he grabbed for her hand.

“Are you crazy, you drunk bastard? Jack is gone! We all need to help look.”

Reverend’s face changed to a look of pity, which made Karen’s heart sink. She didn’t know what had happened, but something was terribly wrong.

“You’re right, we need to look for Jack, but I still need to talk to you first.”

“Alright.” Reverend led her over to one of the far sides of camp, next to a wagon. Karen grew more uncomfortable with every passing second

“Karen,” Reverend started, “The boys went into town to see the Grays this morning.”

“I know that already!” Karen interrupted impatiently.

“It was a setup. They shot Sean.” Reverend bowed his head.

“Well where is he? I’ll go to the doctor to see him, right now. I’m sure he’ll want to see me.” Karen rambled quickly.

“No, you don’t understand. He um, well he passed. Bill told me earlier and said there was nothing they could have done.”

Karen backed away from Reverend, her hands shaking. “No, no. That-no” She didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m really sorry, we all cared so much about him.” Reverend awkwardly hugged her. She normally didn’t like physical affection, but she didn’t want anyone to see the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. This couldn’t be happening. Sean hadn’t done anything to deserve this. 

“Bill buried him, nice and proper, he said. I’m going over there now. Couldn’t read him his last rites, but hopefully I can still pray over him for a safe journey to Heaven. I’ve got to at least try. I’d like for you to come along, if you can find it in you.”

“Of course I can find it in me!” Karen cried.This was her last chance to say goodbye and there was no way she was going to pass it up.

Reverend helped Karen up onto the wagon and they went on their way. They sat in mutual silence, save for Karen’s soft crying, for most of the ride. Karen didn’t feel up for conversation, understandably. 

When they were getting close to Sean’s final resting place, Karen finally broke the silence. 

“God, I hope he didn’t hurt for long.”

“Bill said they blasted a bullet straight through his skull, so I’m sure he died immediately. Didn’t see it coming.” Reverend responded, without thinking much over how his words might impact Karen.

“Oh my god don’t tell me that!” Karen sobbed, placing her hand over her face.The sentiment made her feel sicker to her stomach than she already had been that morning. This had to be the worst day of her life, no contest.

“I’m sorry Karen-”

“I think I’m gonna be sick” 

“Hold on, we’re almost there.” Reverend assured her.

A moment or so later, they arrived at a little patch of grass, shaded by trees that overlooked Flat Iron Lake. 

“Sean! No no no!” Karen jumped off the wagon and ran to the grave before the horse had made a full stop. She collapsed in front of the grave and cried harder than she had ever remembered doing in the past.

“I know it’s hard, but he’s in a better place now.” Reverend said in an attempt to console her. “You think?” Karen asked between broken sobs.

“Yes, I really do.” Reverend told her, kneeling down and patting her on the back.

Karen, while sitting through Reverend’s prayers for Sean, recalled how poorly she had treated him. She was the worst girlfriend, or whatever she was to him, in the world. No sooner had Reverend said “Amen” before she looked at the cross, which had Sean’s name engraved on it and began rambling.

“I’m sorry I called you an ass. I really didn’t mean it, I swear. I love you, I can’t believe I didn’t tell you, God I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Karen, he knew. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that he knew that.” Reverend assured her genuinely.

“You promise?” Karen looked back at him, her eyes full of tears and puffy from crying.

“Of course. He’s probably watching over you right now. And I think he’d want you to be strong.”

“I don’t want to be strong. I want to be with him.” In fact, the last thing in the world that Karen wanted to be was “strong”. She was pretty sure she didn’t even have it in her.

“Here, Bill found Sean’s satchel. You can keep it if you like.” Reverend picked up the small bag from the other side of the tree and handed it to Karen.

Karen's hands shook as she opened the satchel. Inside was a wad of money, a half eaten chocolate bar, an unfinished letter he’d written to her that was dated back when he had been taken prisoner by Ike Skelding’s bounty men, an Emerald ring, and the Cola syrup he’d promised her that morning.

[im-the-punk-who]

Hi, I dont know if you read or know anything about Macchiavelli's "Il principe", but I am studying it in school and I cant help but compare it's fundamentals to how Flint leads. I'm just curious about what you think

Eekekekekekekekekekekkek okay so first off Anon, you are absolutely, 100% right to be getting those vibes. If it’s not actually textual it is at the least meta-textual that Flint ascribes to a very Machiavellian type of leadership. His whole ‘never was there a Caesar who couldn't sing the tune’ speech is...licherally a direct reference to Machiavelli's philosophy that leaders cannot retain their leadership without sacrificing some level of ethical behavior in order to manipulate and deceive their subjects into following them.

And, Flint owns at least two books from thinkers who drew directly on Machiavellian thinking in their texts: De Jure Belli Ac Pacis by Hugo Grotus and The Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes are both visible in Flint’s cabin, and both drew heavily on the type of leadership principles established in books like Il Principe. 

(Also, my eternal quest for the book that sits *under* The Leviathan in that scene remains. Y’all I will literally pay someone for this knowledge. My best guess is Plato’s De Republica.)

In fact, the whole system that Flint’s world was operating under at this time was very machiavellian in influence. 

Henry VIII, who converted to Protestantism and who would eventually lead England in the conversion from Catholicism to Protestantism that would then in turn eventually lead the country into the War of Spanish Succession(the war being fought during the London 1705 flashbacks), was a student of Machiavellian thinking. He took the teachings of Il Principe to heart and used them to transform his country. Over the next hundred and fifty years, England would change from an entirely Catholic country to a Protestant one. Of note, Catholic scholars generally disagreed with Machiavelli’s principles on the grounds that it did not support the Divine Right of Kings.

As well, the Enlightenment thinkers that influenced Thomas Hamilton(and Flint himself) were starting to argue more for personal liberty and choice of the governed, both concepts presented in Machiavelli’s writings. (For those following along, this approach was also being used to justify slavery, as what was ‘good for the state is good for the man’ was used as justification for everything from impressment to colonization and slavery. Men were willing to set aside their morals for what they justified as good for the state. Shrug emoji.)

As James says of England when he and Thomas view the hanging in London:

“You think Whitehall wants piracy to flourish in the Bahamas?”

“No I don’t think they want it but I think they’re aware of the cost associated with trying to fight it. And I think that that sound travels.”

Here we see that Flint knows what Thomas doesn’t or does not want to accept: that England is willing to sacrifice some morality and some amount of lives(both of pirate-prisoners and the ships they take) in order to save themselves the financial burden of rooting out the causes of piracy. The justification for piracy was that it is too costly to fight, and that the nation ultimately benefits from a bit of strife as it drives prices up and allows England to place within the sights of its citizenry an identifiable enemy. (Note that Blackbeard also argues the same of Nassau, that prosperity ‘made it soft’.)

Even as he is changed by Thomas’ line of thinking, this lesson will stick with Flint and we’ll see it over and over again as he deals with the men’s hatred of himself by redirecting them towards other avenues(Vane, Hornigold, England, etc.)

And in actuality, this is what sets Thomas very much apart from his political brethren - he was *not* willing to sacrifice his morals in order to achieve a ‘more effective’ victory. Once he realizes that moral deficit shown by England, he creates the pardon plan to argue directly for a more moral and just way of governance. His whole premise for the pardons was to show England that an approach that considered the needs and wants of the governed was ultimately more effective, both in cost and in gaining the genuine good will of the people. And again, this is another likely reason why Thomas was then targeted by Peter Ashe and his father. Railing against the entire system of government was dangerous. Particularly if one was railing against the government in a way that could be seen as support of an opposing system of religion and political rule(remember how I said before that Catholics were generally against the Machiavellian systems?) Put plainly, Thomas’ rejection of Machiavelli’s leadership tactics would have been yet another argument for his treason against the crown.

Interestingly also, Marcus Aurelius - Thomas Hamilton’s homeboy - is said to be one of Machiavelli’s five “good” emperors, of whom Machiavelli wrote,

“[they] had no need of praetorian cohorts, or of countless legions to guard them, but were defended by their own good lives, the good-will of their subjects, and the attachment of the Senate.”

How we tryna be.

And so we see that Flint has - not so much fallen back into England’s line of thinking but perhaps that he never really fell out of it. And that this is actually a rift in his potential ability to conform to Thomas’ line of thinking, assuming we see that line as more morally correct. We do see Flint, gradually, throughout the course of the show, move more away from this Machiavellian line of thinking, especially once he meets Madi and the Maroons.  And to me at least it’s one of the most important character shifts we see - in contrast to the trajectory of John Silver becoming Long John Silver  - throughout the series. Just as Flint is finally starting to really value the lives of those around him, Silver has learned how effective those tactics can be in achieving his goals. As Hands says - ‘I wonder if he knows how much you learned from him.’

And in fact, Silver almost directly quotes Machiavelli at one point when he talks to Flint about their different leadership styles.

“I once thought that to lead men in this world, to be liked was just as good as being feared, and that may very well be true. But to be both liked and feared all at once, is an entirely different state of being in which, I believe, at this moment, I exist alone.” 

Whereas Machiavelli in his chapters addressing cruelty and mercy writes

"Here a question arises: whether it is better to be loved than feared, or the reverse. The answer is, of course, that it would be best to be both loved and feared. But since the two rarely come together, anyone compelled to choose will find greater security in being feared than in being loved." 

This is clearly the approach Flint has taken - he is the most feared captain on the seas. Certainly in the colonial world and on Nassau, too, his name brings a certain amount of fear with it. Because of this he has been safe from rebellion for quite a long time - however he is also not unaware that his power comes from the people. In the very first episode he talks of his plan with Gates to “position people in all the right places so the crew would never turn.” He has, for an unknown amount of time but I would suspect from the very beginning, been manipulating the crew’s opinion of him to keep them happy. Gates himself, and Silver later, are prime examples. 

Both of them; Gates for the first ten years or so and Silver in seasons 2+3 act as a go between - being the ‘liked’ to Flint’s ‘feared’. They convince the crew - the ‘people’ in this case - that Flint’s plans are in their best interest and not truly the act of a tyrant. It is only when Flint forgets - or neglects to respect - that the will of his crew is how he keeps his power, that he really starts to fail. And, later also, that now he has a rival - Silver. 

Now, I do want to point out that personally I don’t think Flint is a needlessly cruel ‘ruler’ in the sense the crew sometimes thinks he is, nor is he trying to be as a king is to english subjects. He has power, of course, and he does manipulate, lie, and kill if necessary to maintain his power in accordance with Machiavelli’s principles, but he does not do so ruthlessly or to a degree that is unnecessarily violent, nor with only his own advancement in mind. His goals genuinely are in service of the people he leads, even if the tactics he uses sometimes put them in danger for it. Moreso, I would argue that Flint is a prince who created his own princedom. He took an existing power structure(the pirate council in Blackbeard, Hornigold etc) and took most of the power for himself, either through luck, violence, or political maneuvering. And then he kept it through skill and tactical advantage.

Silver, in contrast to Flint’s new princedom, is truly a ‘prince of the people’. He comes to power through convincing the other pirates that he has their interests at heart - even when he doesn’t. But Silver soon learns that being a well-loved leader is difficult. It isn’t until Silver kills Dufresne and Billy uses that fear to build a legend that ‘Long John Silver’ the pirate king comes into being. Silver learns, just as Flint knew, that in a world or corruption, often leaders need to make sacrifices of things they would have once deemed important. 

(I think it’s also important to note for Silver that his main goal is actually one Machiavelli writes of as being ‘a will of the people’. Silver’s main wish is not to rule, not really. His biggest motivator is ‘to be free’. To not have to make choices based on the will or subjugations of others. And so, he attempts to make the leadership forced upon him into something that frees him - unfortunately for him, Madi is right when she says that the ‘Crown is always a burden’ and it would be truly impossible for him to find the kind of freedom he wishes for while wearing it. Which, honestly, is part of why he ultimately fails in that regard as leader of the revolution.)

In the later seasons we see Flint go through this change in philosophy after he meets Madi and the Maroons. He begins to actually value the lives of the people he leads. When put to the choice of going through with the raid on the Underhill estate despite the risk it poses to the slaves on other plantations, Flint resists the idea. As he tells Madi - it would have cost them far more to ignore the ‘will’ of those people he hoped to lead - the slaves - than it would gain them to go through with the plan. And later, even though he can’t be blind to Max’s sway with Eleanor and the others, unlike Billy (and oh how the mighty have fallen, Mr. Bones!) he doesn’t even seem to consider keeping her rather than trading her for the lives of his other men. He no longer wants to trade a potential political victory for the suffering of those he leads. So, too, when he attempts to trade the cache for the fort, he is doing so with the goal being to not have to put those under his power in danger if there is another option. It is, at least to me, an incredibly moving character arc and one that is so very understated. 

And honestly, I think it’s what *needed* to happen before he could move on from his rage-hate bender and begin to find the sort of peace that one might argue those ‘good’ rulers had. Machiavelli’s principles tend to get in the way of your ability to connect with other people: when you see them just as pawns in a game, friends and foes lose their intrinsic value of just being important on an emotional level. It is only through learning to truly value his partners that Flint can learn how to be a better and more just leader.

Also, this passage in chapter 15 absolutely KILLS me in regards to both Flint, and Thomas Hamilton:

“Men have imagined republics and principalities that never really existed at all. Yet the way men live is so far removed from the way they ought to live that anyone who abandons what is for what should be pursues his downfall rather than his preservation; for a man who strives after goodness in all his acts is sure to come to ruin, since there are so many men who are not good.”

Like bitch!! We get it!! Too much sanity!!! Shut up!!!!!

Anyway, all this to say that you’re absolutely right in seeing parallels between Flint’s style of leadership and a Machiavellian prince - he is absolutely written as a prince-like leader. As are Silver, Rogers, even the Maroon Queen(and Scott and Madi as extensions of her) can be compared to certain rulers in Machiavelli’s archetypes. Even Thomas, who models himself after one of those ‘good emperors’ engenders a type of political leader Machiavelli writes about.

(Also lastly, i want to very quickly point out this guy, Cesare Borgia:

Who was a prince of ‘fortune’ who lost his princedom to trusting the wrong person. What a beard, amirite? What a face. He’s even got the rings! I’m sure this means nothing.)

So basically yeah, Flint is absolutely a Machiavelli bitch. 

[sunflowersseemhappy]

Heey I was wondering how would the main 6 react to an MC that is tall but really self conscious about it, I really like your writing btw 💕💕💕

This took a bit long, but got there in the end! Thank you for the ask and the compliment anon ❤❤❤

So I’m taller than average myself so I feel the pain of being harassed and knocking my cranium against low doorways. But for those that are harassed about their height just remember you are perfect (also I endorse smacking people upside the head if they’re rude about it 😂)!

For purposes of this headcanon say that MC is 6ft+ despite gender identity, as always I hope you enjoy! Tons of love!

REQUESTS OPEN, next up is Morga little romantic gestures!

Asra

At this rate it seems like he has a type, if you know what I mean.

He actually really likes being the shorter one of a pair, not for any particular reason but it’s just always been that way.

Also the added benefits of having a tall person around are numerous!

He doesn’t have to stand on that rickety stool to reach the nightshade on the top shelf, there’s always a long shirt to wear when it’s too hot to wear anything else, and Faust has a place she can look down on the world.

Asra likes to joke that he keeps you around for that reason, but it’s said with love in his heart and the real truth in his eyes.

Asra’s known you for so long that he’s keyed into your habits when you’re feeling self-conscious about your height.

It could be something that was said in passing by a stranger or it could be that you’ve bumped your head on that door frame for the fifth time today...

Asra likes to take your mind off it, suggesting the two of you do something that you’ll enjoy (tea, a bit of magic practice, a woodland walk, or maybe some snuggling).

Asra likes to depart the odd pearl of wisdom once in a while, just to ease your mind while the two of you are out. (E.g. “most people are so caught up in what they are doing that they don't have the time to notice what you are doing or what you look like.”)

But if someone specifically mentions your height, Asra will deflect it casually, saying something like “Sure I guess!” and move on to such a tediously boring conversation that the person will be forced to retreat.

He may just ignore them altogether and talk to you instead.

When all is said and done Asra find’s it important to let you know that what really matters is who you are inside, and you are certainly the most genuine and gorgeous soul in the world.

But if it helps he’ll kiss every inch of you to let you know how beautiful you are on the outside as well as on the inside.

Nadia

She’s not so much surprised by your height, rather that you are not of noble linage.

Nadia’s always seen such imposing height as something possessed by those in positions of power or authority and yet here you are just barely fitting in the shop doorway.

As she is so intuitive it didn’t take her long to figure out you weren’t always entirely comfortable with being tall, but she did wonder why. Other than Muriel she seldom met unimposing tall people like you.

Then she realises that all the tall people she know’s are rulers or commanders of power who command attention (and their height helps) but you don’t want that attention.

The palace is a place where you get the best and worst of both worlds.

Given the high ceilings, large corridors, huge bath and giant beds you almost feel small, which is a nice change. Second to that the servants are always very polite, and although they indulge in gossip its not usually about your height (more like how lucky you are that the countess likes you so much or how nice you are).

Nadia also hires the finest tailors and shoemakers to fit you with perfect clothes (which is nice because everything’s always been a bit short).

But then there are the court and the visiting nobles...

The ones who find a misshaped pea interesting, and a person such as yourself fascinating crowding you with questions and stupid jokes.

Nadia was not impressed when she found you being hounded by them, instantly death glaring them without you noticing and guiding you out of there.

She wants you to feel comfortable so the next time she has visitors she advises them against commenting on you and instead talking to you like a normal human being. She’ll stick with you and encourage you to tell your own stories (the ones about magic are captivating to the nobles).

Maybe over time you’ll have so much confidence thanks to Nadia that your height will become the least interesting thing about you.

Nadia knows it will take a while to build up that confidence, but it’s not an unreachable goal and she know’s that one day you’ll be confident enough to flaunt it rather than hide from it.

Until then she’ll let you know just how appealing you are to her, maybe using more than words.

Julian

Was giddy about having someone he doesn’t have to lean down to kiss, his back aches sometimes so he thinks it’s fantastic that your lips are level with his!

Also he likes the dramatic effect of a ‘tall dark stranger’, he’s so intensely flirtatious about that particular scenario (but only if you’re into it).

With Julian being as tall as he is he’s had the odd comment and jibe, but for him it’s water off his back. When he realises you don’t quite have the same confidence as he does, Julian is pretty upset.

Height isn’t the measure of a person, it’s their spirit and personality and what they do around others.

He knows that out of all the people he’s ever met if they were asked to describe him they’d mention his personality before what he looks like, he wants the same to be true for you.

Couples who bump heads on cross beams together, stay together.

But in all seriousness, Julian has some kind of sixth sense when it comes to bashing craniums against low objects. It doesn’t work for him but he warns you moments before you’re about to smack your head, maybe it’s because he did it a couple of minutes ago.

He also understands your general everyday frustrations, like short chairs, small beds and constant back pain.

When Julian actually finds clothes that fit him he knows it will fit you too! So he buys like 50 of the same shirts in one day.

No hesitation, will confront someone when they are not getting the message that you don’t find the jokes on your height funny. Usually with something eloquently put about their own appearance or just some kind of snappy quip.

“MC’s legs are far longer than my patience for your jokes about their height.” or  "MC’s the kind of person that you can put up on a pedestal without having to go out and buy a pedestal!"

He’ll ask if you want to leave, if you do that’s absolutely fine, now it’s cuddle time! If you want to stay he will keep you by his side and just slather you with compliments and when people look at the two of you it won’t be because of your height but how good you two look together!

Julian is determined to make your height an afterthought (both for you and everyone you meet), showing you that in reality it is not anything you need to worry about because those hurtful comments are just people being thoughtless.

Maybe it can be a bit of an inconvenience but that’s all it is, something you can handle and overcome with ease. He won’t try to make you feel normal, but rather make you comfortable in your own skin.

And he certainly wants his love to be comfortable, showing it though his affections as he gives you worshipping kisses and engulfing hugs.

Muriel

It’s likely that Muriel is still the taller one of the two of you.

He was not entirely sure how he felt about you being this tall though, on the one hand he you don’t have to crane your neck to look at his face, on the other he’s never had anyone this close to him.

Decided he liked it when you so easily kissed him on the cheek, without even having to ask him to lean down.

He understands how self-conscious you feel, he’s always felt uncomfortable in his own skin when people were mean to him. But knowing you go through the same thing makes him feel less alone and a bit braver in standing up for the two of you.

The hut was practically built for you, although the door is a little low and a few of the beams are too, it’s got enough head space for you and Muriel’s bed is long and large. Fitting you perfectly.

Also Muriel is great at making his own clothes, so much so he makes you clothes that unlike a lot fit and are tailored to your likes.

It’s a nice feeling walking around town and not being the only one who’s being stared at, the two of you hold each other up in those situations.

Muriel may make you look smaller by comparison, so usually the comments are directed at him when the two of you are out. But when Muriel is not around or has his back turned you get the comments and the jibes.

When he comes up to your side and hears those mean comments, he’s annoyed and it shows on his face. He’ll say something blunt and to the point (“You’re rude.”), take your hand and leave with you in tow.

He won’t stand up for himself but he will for you, not to any physical point but if someone is being an ass he’ll call them out.

If what he says to that person is not scary enough coming from him that the person leaves then he’ll beckon you back to the hut where it’s safe.

He will tell you that it is hard to feel comfortable in your skin all the time and that it might always be that way but what matters the most is living happy despite that. There will always be mean people but they’ll end up pushing their happiness away by acting like that.

Muriel knows its not easy but together it’ll be a little easier.

He’ll whisper how beautiful you are and trace your skin, making you feel loved in his quiet, careful way with plenty of kisses to spare.

Portia

She’s the shortest out of the main six and is she daunted? Not at all! She grew up with Julian after all.

She expected you to be a bit more lively like Julian but soon realises you don’t have the same bravado like he does (to which she thanks the gods, she doesn’t need another tall idiot in her life).

At first she thinks it’s because you weren’t raised by pirates like she and Julian were, but then sees there’s more too it than that when you go quiet after someone mentions it.

Despite it’s size Portia’s cottage is always warm and welcoming, she makes the effort to pad the low beams where you bump your head (though she ended up needing your help because she couldn’t reach).

She remembers when Julian would complain about his aches and pains after he was bent or stooped over too long and how he would get a massage to relieve the pain. She offers to give you massages when you look like you’re in pain and they are perfect.

She’s very into the opposites attract thing, you’re tall and mellow, she’s short and spunky. The dynamic works, because you bring those aspects of your personalities together to make a perfect couple!

She will 1000% confront anyone who even looks like they’re going to say something rude (you begin to wonder why nobody has approached you yet about your height).

There might be one person that slips under the radar and say’s something hurtful, as soon as she notices or you ask her if you two can leave (to which she interrogates you why) she’s like a feral cat, biting into them with a rant about being a horrible person and doing and saying things that are wrong. (It’s a great show to watch, but not to be on the receiving end).

You have to tear her away, but it’s nice she cares so much. She’s like a mamma cat attacking a dog that tried to bite her kitten.

Portia is upset after taking people like that down a peg or two, mainly upset for you. She wishes everyone could be nice to each other, because you never know what someone is going through (your self-consciousness being a case in point).

She cares a lot about people being happy with who they are and what they look like because living with pirates (who are so diverse) she’s seen her family berated for looking different or being different and it applies to you too.

Portia just wants to give you the biggest hug and let you know that she loves you wholly and unconditionally.

Lucio

Lucio is unfazed by your height, maybe a bit jealous, but I like to think the first time he mentions your height he’ll say some s**t really flirtatiously like: ”I’ve conquered taller.”

But he digs the prospect of having a tall, gorgeous, and oddly quiet magician constantly by his side. The two of you together, look so good (at least that’s what he likes to say).

It takes him a hot sec to begin noticing how uncomfortable you seem in certain settings, he’s happy to be partying but it’s no fun when you don’t join in. It’s only after he hears visiting nobles making rude comments about the ‘Magician’ that it dawns on him.

Lucio tries his best to make you feel comfortable around the palace and in public spaces, although there was that time you had to stop him creating a law that made it illegal to say anything negative about you...

He loves that it’s brought you closer together in a way, you both get fitted for new outfits together and have the most luxuriously warm baths where you can ease the pain in your bones (and enjoy a tub you actually fit in) and he can keep himself smelling and looking good.

Lucio’s particularly keen on keeping attentions off of you if you so wish, he’ll be sitting next to you at a dinner with some dignitaries and will stand to tell elaborate stories. With him standing nobody usually notices how tall you are and even if they do his stories are just too much to resist.

So Lucio is all about diversion, but it’s not the sure fire way to avoid rude people. Of which rich rude people are always the rudest because they think they can get away with it...

Lucio will do one of two things; threaten them with having their tongues cut out or humiliating them until they run off crying. Although it’s done to your benefit you have to explain to him why that is not okay.

Maybe a part of him gets why people are so mean, after all he was once like that. “I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with others not liking something about themselves and calling attention to other people’s features out of spite and/or to make them feel better about themselves... But that’s just a guess.”

Regardless he doesn’t want you to hide who you are so he’ll always invite you to that party and if you don’t want to go then he’s going to chill with the most amazing person he knows. You.

Besides hugs and kisses are just as good as alcohol (just about).

[swashbucklery]

I was already planning on watching Julie and the Phantoms, but your tags have made me 110% more intrigued.

Okay anon LET ME PITCH THIS SHOW TO YOU bc this is a thing I love doing.

So first of all: this is a Kenny Ortega production for Young People, it’s rated TV-G, some of the teen actors are actual teens BE APPROPRIATE.

Secondly: it’s not like, good? But it’s also amazing. If we’re grading this on a spectrum from High School Musical to Descendents, I’d say it manages to hit the emotional beats consistent with a High School Musical 3, with the watchability of Descendants 3, but the weird and earnest heart of High School Musical 2.

Except not actually any of those things because the premise is GHOST BOY BAND and you have to just kind of. Open your heart to that journey from minute one. Not only are you asked to accept GHOST BOY BAND as the fundamental premise, you also have to accept that they are supposed to be a “rock band” from 1995 and that every single person involved in making this film is really banking on their target audience not having any idea what actual rock music from 1995 sounded like. You are asked to accept that they are a grunge band emerging from the post-Nirvana scene and yet somehow they sound like the Click Five and Busted and sometimes if things get real spicy the Plain White T’s mashed together.

(Like, musically I am never getting over this?)

(There is also an Evil Ghost who is almost certainly supposed to be a pared-down, no-drug-references family-friendly Brendon Urie, but if he somehow was from the 1920s? and this is DOUBLY ABSURD because they make a reference to actual human rock star Brendon Urie in the movie and I feel like, somehow, they owe him a hundred thousand dollars. For something. I don’t know what.)

Anyway. The songs are, despite all of the above, truly excellent and crushable pop singles and there are so many of them because it’s - like it’s serialized into 30 minute episodes but it’s also kind of not. It’s just a four and a half hour movie cut into little mini-breaks, and as a result really lends itself to being watched back to back. 

There is an actual emotional core, and Kenny Ortega is always best when he can make movies about real feelings (unlike say idk Descendants) and I think that is why this got me even though I’m an old person who remembers what 1995 sounded like and knows it was not fictional rock and roll band Sunset Curve. The ultimate core is just like. Music is important. Making music feels good and is healing and brings people together. There are also a lot of very genuine beats about like, grief and loss and family and the youth actress who plays Julie is really excellent in it when it counts.

There is also like. IDK if you can call it a love triangle, but they’re trying their hardest. There is drama, I guess, between a floppy-haired ginger teen that my wife and I started calling White Bread Sandwich and one of the Ghost Teens and - it’s whatever. You can be whatever about it. I still don’t know any of the Teen Boy Character names, they could basically all be named Jake? I don’t think any of them are named Jake but they’re all, you know. Present. Very adequate.

There are also baby gays and like. I will just tell you right now that there is absolutely ZERO kissing in this movie, so they don’t kiss just like everyone else doesn’t kiss but I am VERY salty about them in particular because they had the one arc where I think a kiss would have actually created some meaningful narrative payoff but whatever. WHATEVER, there are some extremely tender gay boy feelings and they’re very chaste and Disney but still shockingly affecting and cute.

ANYWAY: this show is beautiful nonsense, it’s light and fluffy and poppy and the worldbuilding doesn’t make a lick of sense but it’s not as egregious as Descendants and it was kind of exactly what I needed to watch right now. Maybe it is for you too?