#they're something alright. not a good something but something nonetheless

[k1ttysh1ft4r]

Scripting struggles

I'm changing my magical girl outfit and I have 5 I like and I cant pick one... they don't even match the magic I gave myself anyways idk why I'm like this...

Anyways I'm just taking them all 🤷🏾‍♀️ when I wear them in my DR I'll decide which ones I want to keep.

On that note I need to pick a wand/weapon too. The struggle starts again.

[love-belle]

i bet you think about me !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is just them shading each other on instagram and co parenting their cat.

or

for when you know they're thinking about you. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lando norris x fem!reader

sequel - i'll be loving you for quite some time ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language. both the reader and lando are petty bitches having a petty virtual stand-off.

author's note - hello!!!!! so sorry for the wait, i've been busy with stuff :/// i really hope u like this <3 thank u so much for reading!!! i love u <3

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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landonorris happier than ever.

8,927 comments

username THE CAPTION

username oh.

username no bc why did this hurt me.

username my heart can't take it what the fuck

danielricciardo unnecessary caption but alright.

-> landonorris i did not lie though???

username WHY IS THIS HAPPENING

username i haven't recovered from their breakup and now ur telling me that they ended on bad terms??????

-> username no they're fine!!!!!!! this is just lando being silly!!!!!!!!!!!!!

username no bc why THE FUCK is lando out here looking all fine while my girl y/n was seen crying in front of her mom yesterday

-> username weren't there rumours that they broke up bc y/n was committed to this relationship more than lando was????

-> username oh what the fuck

username "happier than ever" like we didn't see u and y/n all those years with eachother

maxverstappen1 👍

*liked by landonorris*

username nah bc if i was y/n i would be so hurt by this what the fuck.

-> username imagine going through a breakup after being together for more than 2 years and they post THIS after a WEEK like

lilymhe fake ass bitch

*this comment has been deleted*

username god i love lily defending her wifey

username LANDO HOW AM U SUPPOSED TO DEFEND U LIKE THIS

username no bc my heart's aching for y/n she doesn't deserve this

charles_leclerc need to talk to you real quick.

-> carlossainz55 just a friendly chat!

-> username oh they're maaaaaaad

username im a child of divorce what the fuck

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

yourusername i’ll think of something else your initial can stand for

*this post is not available*

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lilymhe, carmenmmundt, danielricciardo and 789,979 others

yourusername blocking him isn't enough when i want to throw tomatoes at his head like he's a medieval criminal

8,926 comments

username PLEASE

username SOMEONE TELL ME THEY SAW Y/N'S LAST POST

-> username NO BC WHEN U TELL U MY HEART BROKE

-> username "i’ll think of something else your initial can stand for" do u want me to cry.

username bet lando feels like an asshole after seeing that post 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

-> username imagine fumbling so hard 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

lilymhe replace those tomatoes with concrete blocks and we're good!

-> yourusername alright slow down

-> username HELP

username y/n liking all the comments roasting lando but blocking all the ones who are hating on him is actually so personal to me

-> username like girl hates him but only she's allowed to do it

-> username my parents!!!!!!!!! divorced but parents nonetheless!!!!!!!!!

charles_leclerc i can arrange the tomatoes

-> carlossainz55 i can lock him in a room for you to throw tomatoes at him

-> danielricciardo i can stand by and record the whole thing for you to look back on and laugh

-> yourusername i adore each one of you wtf ☹️☹️☹️

username that prev caption hits hard knowing that lando got her a necklace with his initial 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username THE LYRICS TOOK ME OUT OMG

username imagine breaking up with ur bf and seeing that post he posted after you posted a heartbreaking yet wistful post abt him like

-> username ngl that's gonna be my last straw

francisca.cgomes asking pierre to show it to him brb

-> yourusername LMFAOOO PLEASE

username this is so chaotic i CANNOT

username mother is mothering so hard after her breakup

-> username she broke free of the shackles 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

*liked by yourusername*

username babe it's okay me and our kids forgive u just come home ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

maxverstappen1 sending this to him

-> yourusername do it no balls

-> username pls she's so unserious i love her 😭😭😭

*liked by yourusername*

username i KNOW he looked at this post and cried

*liked by yourusername*

username me when they still post abt eachother but indirectly and with shady undertones 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😘😘😘😘😘😘😘

username i will get over a lot of things but i will never get over y/n and lando breaking up

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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landonorris pov: you're better now 🤍

7,926 comments

username pov ur a liar.

username lando it's okay honey u don't have to lie

username he said this yk like a liar

maxverstappen1 not me watching you wipe your tears right now

-> landonorris LEAVE ME ALONE

username the way i've been crying since i found out and it's not even my relationship like DAMN.

username lando how does it feel to fumble a bad bitch like y/n 🎤🎤🎤

username no bc i KNOW the drivers reallllllllly gave it to lando after they found out about the breakup

username IS THAT Y/N'S CAT

-> username they're co parenting caz 💀💀💀

-> username it's weekend with dad ig 😭😭😭

danielricciardo pov: you're a liar ❤️

-> landonorris choke ❤️

username max and daniel really calling him out on his bullshit 💀💀💀

-> username as they should

username the way i fell to the floor when the articles first came out abt their breakup

username so y/n WAS committed to this relationship more than he was

username me having a nice day and suddenly remembering the fact that lando once said that y/n was everything he had spent his life looking for and everything he thought he'd never find

-> username I WAS HAVING A NICE WHY DO U DO THIS TO ME

username "pov: you found your soulmate" hahahahahaha!!!! im fine!!!! totally not going crazy over this!!!!!

-> username do u get deja vu

carlossainz55 lies.

-> landonorris blocked.

username need them back together again for mental stability i fear

username they're actually very happy together my delusions told me!!!!!!!

username no way they're just over like that when we could SEE how much they loved eachother like

-> username the articles being all "they had different priorities" NO MF THEY KEPT SAYING HOW THEY COULDN'T WAIT FOR THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER

-> username to the person who wrote those articles, drop the addy i just wanna talk :)

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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yourusername when u know he's gonna think u every time he hears a taylor swift song and it'll make him want to CRY

7,532 comments

username the ultimate revenge

username the way i lit up whenever i see one of them posted but it's literally just them shading eachother like I CANNOT.

username LMFAOOOOO

carmenmmundt he'll listen to lover and it'll make him want to cry

-> georgerussell63 playing that the next time he walks in a room

-> yourusername thank u for ur service carmen's bf

username the way this whole thing is like a tennis match 💀💀💀

username ngl this is so entertaining

username couple weeks since they broke up and this is how their post breakup era is going

-> username when they're still so 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼

username they're just being silly!!!!!!!! just a prank y'all!!!!!!!! silly y/n and lando!!!!!!!!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

danielricciardo can confirm that exile was playing when i walked into his driver's room

-> yourusername HELP OMG

-> username not exile LMFAOO

username why are u so pretty

username post break up glow be hitting different ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

*liked by yourusername*

username women become 1000000x more beautiful everytime a m*n disappoints them

*liked by yourusername*

lilymhe asking alex to make all the playlists just taylor swift babe we're destroying his peace

-> yourusername OKAY SLOW DOWN FOR A MIN

username y/n telling her fans to be kind and lando straight up to ignoring everything does tell u a lot abt them tbh but some people are not ready for that conversation yet

-> username the way y/n and him were FINE after their breakup until he posted with that caption likeeeee

-> username nah bc what if.............HE WAS THE PROBLEM

-> username men need to go back to war

lewishamilton can't wait to see you next week!! roscoe misses his favourite dogsitter!!

-> yourusername missing my buddy so much 🤍🤍🤍 see you both next week!!!!!!!

username the entire grid adores her i can TELL

username this is what he deserves

username no bc i know im supposed to sad that they broke up but them posting abt each other indirectly while having the other person blocked is so hilarious

username my y/nlando heart 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username the grid still being close to y/n is so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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landonorris how i feel every time i hear a taylor swift song and my mind goes straight to her

7,931 comments

username NOT HIM USING HIMSELF AS MEMES

username so who's gonna tell him.

username people who follow both of them 💀💀💀💀💀

username lando...babe...

username no bc they DO shade eachother and roast eachother since they broke up but the fact that y/n tells all the ppl hating on lando to "shut the fuck up and get a fucking life" and lando straight up blocks them is so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username IT'S WHAT SHE WANTS

danielricciardo chuckles knowingly

-> landonorris WHAT DO YOU KNOW

-> danielricciardo NOTHING

-> landonorris WHAT

-> danielricciardo NOTHING OH MY GOD

username smirks

username good.

username yes cry abt it x

username the way "the 1" is literally them LIKE

-> username "it would've been fun if you could've been the one" 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username CAN U HEAR ME CRYING

charles_leclerc this is interesting

-> landonorris ?

username lando being confused is sending me 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username y/n fr manifested this 💀💀💀

username IM GIGGLING THIS IS HILARIOUS

username someone send this to y/n

*liked by danielricciardo*

maxverstappen1 we get what you mean but please stop playing the 1

-> landonorris none can do sorry

username NOT LANDO PLAYING THE 1

username im so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username y/n is chuckling rn i can feel it

lilymhe this is interesting!

-> landonorris WHAT IS

username OH MY GOD

username them shading eachother while having the other person blocked is top tier comedy i cant

username the next race is gonna be so interesting I can't wait 🗣️🗣️🗣️

username PLEASE OMG

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

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yourusername i bet you think about me

8,467 comments

username MOTHER

username ATE

username HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD

username step on me please.

username i KNOW he looked at this post and cried

lewishamilton as pierre taught me, slayed the house down with boots or whatever

-> yourusername LEWIS OH MY GOD

-> yourusername but thank u that means sm to me 💌

username SHE'S SO SVANAKDJDMKSJSJ

username iconic.

username taylor swift always right !!!!!!!!!!

carmenmmundt pretty pretty

-> yourusername yeah you you

username my bi awakening

-> username that's so real actually

username THIS IS PERFECT

username someone thank daniel for showing lando's post to y/n so that we could get THIS

*liked by danielricciardo*

username WOMEN

lilymhe marry me rn idc i loveeee u ur so pretty ahahahaha pls.

-> yourusername babeeeeee i love u sm we're absolutely getting married idc abt ur bf we're eloping

-> alex_albon it's not even noon yet give me a break

username carmen, lily, kika and y/n ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username YEAH I BET U THINK ABOUT ME

username he DOES think about u

username no bc if i was lando i would be in my knees screaming crying throwing up for her to take me back

-> username real like how will u explain to people that u ended up fumbling a bad bitch

francisca.cgomes GORGEOUS

-> yourusername I LOVE YOU

username "i don't wanna think of anything else now that i thought of u"

-> username DIDN'T SHE POST THAT WHEN SHE ANNOUNCED THEIR RELATIONSHIP

-> username lord i am not strong enough for this.

username kinda missing them together ://

-> username i miss lando panicking in the comments section everytime y/n posted like homeboy was down BAD

-> username frrrr like he was down SO bad it was almost embarassing

username I JUST GASPED OUT LOUD HOLY FUCK

charles_leclerc can confirm

*liked by yourusername*

username I NEED LANDO'S REACTION TO THIS OMG

username both of their pr personnel are having a field day with this

-> username i would not want to be either of them today 💀💀💀

username exes beefing is so entertaining i swear im here for this petty bitch fight

[miniimight]

Gotta admit the way you write midoriya is just so... Literally can't find the words to describe it. I had this scenario I wished to request of you it's okay if you don't want to do it. Midoriya with an significant other that hears people taking about them, not deserving of him and how they are using him for his fame and all, then he teaches them a lesson?

DEFENDING YOU the gossip around the office gets on his nerves a lil bit

with izukuuuuu :heart: + gn!reader

notes absolutely in love with this request ! thanks for reading my stuffs <3

a while after you were revealed as his girlfriend, izuku was faced with many backhanded comments about his relationship. sure, they were few and far between, but when they did happen he felt his self-control diminishing way faster than usual. especially if that person had the balls to say it to his face.

to be completely honest, he thought that everyone else should mind their own fucking business. he doesn't kid around when it comes to the people he cares about. the fact that he wants and needs you is enough.

but, nonetheless. people will still run their mouths.

it was another casual day in the office. you had the day off work and he was stuck at the agency headquarters, flipping through paperwork.

you were excited to see him. izuku had been holed up in work for what seemed like forever, and you were so happy to get the chance to spend time with each other during the coming weekend.

as you walked through the halls, you noticed the eyes following you. they were hard to miss, but they were part of the routine at this point. you soon found yourself in the elevator, head ducked as you pulled out your phone.

izu: you coming up soon baby?

you: yeah, i'm like 5 mins away

you: okay im in the lobby, heading up rn

izu: yayyy can't wait to see you, love :3

you smiled softly to yourself. when you looked up, the elevator was packed; all you could see were the backs of the seven or so individuals in front of you, pushing you into the corner. your stomach felt a little uneasy, thinking about how you'd have to tell these people to move to let you through, but you remembered izuku was on the top floor. there was no way they were all heading there.

the hushed voices of a few employees made your heart pound.

"you're talking about deku's s/o?"

"yeah! aren't they... i dunno. a little out of his league?"

"i'm saying! like i'd get it if they were maybe a model or something. but they're literally just a civilian. how disappointing is that? like uravity is right there."

"i'm sure they're just using him for his fame. he's in the field so much with other badass heroes, they probably barely get to see him. if deku wasn't deku, they'd dip in a heartbeat."

they all laughed.

you wanted to stop listening. flood your mind with meaningless thoughts to distract you. but you couldn't resist tuning in, feeding your insecurities and doubt.

the ding of the elevator saved you. they filed out of the elevator, leaving you with the cheerful jingle of the lift.

you were quiet as you walked down the long halls of the top floor, their words echoing in your mind. you knew they weren't true—and god, would izuku reassure the fuck out of you—but negativity was negativity. and negativity had a way of finding cracks and slipping through.

the giant glass doors slid over the tiled floor soundlessly, yet izuku's head popped up from behind all the papers and files at your arrival.

a huge grin bloomed on his face as he sped over to you, paperwork forgotten. "hello, honey. did you get up here okay?"

"yeah," you smiled and held up a takeout bag. "i got some snacks for us."

izuku's calculating gaze bore into you as he gingerly accepted the bag. "you alright?"

"hmm?" you tilted your head in confusion. of course he noticed. "yeah, i'm good." the last thing you wanted to do was stress him out even more.

his brows furrowed. he stepped closer to you, his hands resting on your waist. "don't lie to me, sweetheart." his tone was scolding but his eyes were gentle. "what's bothering you?"

you pursed your lips, sighing. "just a couple people talking about us, 'n how i don't deserve you—"

you felt him stiffen, his expression going cold.

"how i'm using you for the fame, blah, blah, blah." you forced a smile, trying to play it off in an amusing light. "you know, the usual."

izuku was tightlipped, responding only with a "hmm."

he was staring at the wall behind you, eyes narrowed as if he'd seen a villain or something. you knew that expression well.

you cupped his face, guiding him to look at you. "hey. it's okay, izu, i'm used to it. don't mind them, alright?"

izuku's gaze softened and he leaned into one of your palms, the other lifted off his face by his own hand. he pressed a little kiss to your wrist, rubbing his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you both walked out his office.

he decided to drop it, and just love the shit out of you as an apology for experiencing such disrespect. even if he did everything in his power to make sure everyone knew he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him, he still felt guilty when people attacked you.

he still had many questions: who were they, what floor did they get off, and how can i discipline them? he usually felt sympathy for when employees messed up, but suddenly... he wasn't against firing them all.

the ride down to the lobby was filled with many adoring employees who giggled at the sight of the pro-hero, a phenomenon you were also very familiar with.

soon, you were gliding through the lobby, so close to freedom when he picks up on the idle chatter he hates so much.

"i think that's them!"

"it is. woah, his s/o is way more dull when you see 'em next to each other."

izuku grit his teeth. his eyes glanced down to you, seeing the way you blinked and pursed your lips. he suddenly paused. you walked forward a couple steps before you were tugged back by his stationary hand.

you looked at him curiously. "izu..?" your eyes darted around, lingering on the three that said those things about you.

he smiled, bending over you as he kissed your lips gently, pecking your forehead as well. "why don't you go to the car, love? i'll catch up in a second."

you gave him a warning look, noticing how he was drifting to where the three sat. "izu... really, let's just go."

he kissed you again and your head was swimming. "i'll only be a minute, angel. go on." he pat your back and watched as you left the lobby. when he turned around his expression was completely different.

he walked over to the three people, who instantly straightened at his approach. they shared glances with each other, both a little scared and confused.

"hello." izuku smiled, but there was no indication that he was happy. "i'm deku, and you all are..?"

they meekly listed their names, to which izuku took mental notes and nodded.

"great. uhm, i overheard you talking about my s/o?" he cocked his head to the side. "please, i'd love to hear your thoughts." he chuckles. "i'm kinda obsessed with them, or whatever."

"o-oh..." they stutter and avoid his gaze, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "no, it was nothing, really."

"hmm? nothing?" izuku and his months of public appearance training only made him more intimidating when angry; the joyless smile he wore as annoyance bubbled through him was ten times worse then any outright show of anger. "are you sure?"

"yes! promise." one nods eagerly.

he laughs mirthlessly and the three weakly chuckled along, thinking they were out of trouble. leaning close to them, his voice dropped into a low hum. "i'd like to keep it that way, yeah? let's not make them sad just so you could feel like you have an opinion about something that does not concern you whatsoever."

the three held onto each other, eyes rounded with shock as they listened to the pro-hero before them.

izuku's head tilted ever-so-slightly. "well?"

they began to trip over each other with their agreement, yes, of course! we wouldn't dream of it. consider it done! whatever you say!

izuku flashed his famous smile. "glad we got that sorted out. and just so that we're crystal clear, if i—or anyone for that matter—catch you talking down on my s/o again..." he pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in thought. "i'd hate to have to terminate your contracts... it's a lot of paperwork, you know?"

they shook their heads, bowing deeply to the pro-hero. "never again, sir!"

"great!" izuku chirped. "bye!"

[]

your leg bobbed nervously in the car, wondering what izuku was doing and if you should go in there and see for yourself. just as you were about to act, you saw his green hair bob over the cars beside you, eventually coming into view.

you exhaled in relief as he slipped into the driver's seat, sighing happily. he turned to stare at you, leaning dreamily over the steering wheel. you smiled, though your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"you're so pretty." he sighed.

"i—" you blinked, laughing. "thank you, baby."

"i'm so lucky to have you..." he continued, leaning over the compartment separating your seats.

you giggled, matching his energy. "mhmm."

he gave you a lopsided smile. "you deserve everything i have and more."

your face felt warm as you shy away from him, knowing why he was spouting all these affirmations. his fingers hooked under your chin, tilting your face. his hair brushed against your forehead as he captured your lips. he grinned at you when he pulled away, staring at you with such adoration.

"so..." you ignore your racing heart and try to regulate your breathing. "are you gonna tell me what happened?"

he squished your cheeks before turning back in his seat, starting the car. "nope!"

you smiled and rolled your eyes, uncertainties gone and doubt erased. in the end, you weren't ever bothered. and strangely, you never saw those three faces again.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[charlesslut16]

-Ugly christmas sweaters-

summary : lando and you go to a christmas party, which had the theme 'ugly christmas sweaters' but lando does not like his sweater....

PAIRING : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope you like this imagines! Request some more, as we have not every day in the dezember masterlist!

december masterlist ; masterlist 

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

One week before your friend's Christmas party, you bought Christmas sweaters, ugly ones, as the theme had been 'ugly Christmas sweaters'. You knew that Lando didn't like the theme, but for you and your friends' sake, he would do it.

So two days before the party, you confronted and showed Lando the Christmas sweaters. Obviously you knew that Lando wouldn't be as happy, but if you were being honest, you could not care less.

“You’re telling me that we—no, I am going to be wearing that?” Lando softly lifted one of the sweaters, holding it as if it was a bag of 2 weeks old garbage. As if he was going to be infected with something dangerous.

“For our friend’s Christmas party?”

The splash of colors and patterns really confused him; it seems like the designer operated on a whim. Every thing looked out of order and nothing fit together. Like someone had destroyed it and then.

"Come on, it’s not even that bad! The theme was ugly Christmas sweaters, and I picked out the best ones the market had on the hanger, I think they're cute," you stated, defending the sweaters you had bought a week ago.

"This is far from cute! It is horrendous. Your taste in fashion must be very questionable," he scoffed, nonchalantly returning the sweaters to their initial resting place on the chair, so that he did not have to look at them anymore.

"I've practically styled your entire wardrobe, and you've received so many compliments because of me!" you argued back. Now he had gone too far, to question your fashion taste, although you had styled most of his clothes combinations.

"Alright, but your sweater choices are still terrible!" Lando countered.

Ignoring his protests, you insistently hold the sweater in front of him, trying to picture the look despite his puzzled expression. You knew that even if they did not look so good, Lando could pull them off nonetheless.

“Not in a million years will you catch me wearing that. In will never live this outfit down.” Lando declared, hands up in protest.

But, you didn’t care whatsoever, as your determination knew no bounds.

“Stop moving, you're making this harder.”

“What—” he started, but you were already on a mission, determined to make him at least consider the sweater. Even if Lando was a grown man, you needed to put it on him, so that he could see how it looked on him.

“It does suit you.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but you can't just say that by imagining how I'd look in it!”

“Why don't you try it on?” You extended your hand, catching him off guard. His reaction was too slow, and you ended up tossing it at him.

“I'll wait for you.”

Lando sighed loudly, unfolding the sweater and eyeing it with skepticism. He wasn't convinced, but just trying it on wouldn't bee that bad.

“Fine, but don't get your hopes up. It still looks absolutely horrendous.”

As he struggled to put it on, you couldn't help but laugh at the sight. The vibrant colors clashed with his usual style, making it even more amusing. The orange colour he normally would was bright and colourful but this. Absolutely vibrant.

“Ta-da! Happy now?” Lando struck a pose, a mockingly exaggerated smile on his face. You knew that he hated every second of it. Like when he drove and became second and not first, or when his brother hated the last donut that he wanted.

You chuckled, "Look! It doesn't even look that bad! You can totally pull it off. I mean, you can totally pull off everything that somebody gives."

Rolling his eyes, Lando played along with your answers and exclamations.

"Sure, sure. It looks fantastic on me. Just a bunch of silly trees and tiny elves on this sweater with squiggly lines—seriously, what were you thinking when you added this to the cart? It ruined everything good on me."

You shrugged lightly, unfazed by his words. Lando often exaggerated things, and you were accustomed to it. It was nothing unusual for Lando to overreact and overdramatic, things as they were or had been.

“I expect you to stick with this—we've got just two days until the party.”

“But can we not switch—”

In the middle of his sentence, you stood up and walked away into the kitchen to make you a hot cocoa and to go back to your shared bedroom, so you stopped hearing his complaints and overdramatic nature.

Two days later, the day of the Christmas party, you had the exact same conversation, but you knew that Lando could do nothing about it, as he knew that he would do almost everything for you in a heartbeat.

His complaining tone faded as you rushed down the stairs with the matching sweater in your hand. Quickly draping it over your white shirt and white skirt, you settled on the couch in the living room. As you scrolled on your phone to pass the time, you later heard shuffling in the background.

“Ready to go, my handsome man?” you looked up, seeing your boyfriend in the sweater you bought—he hadn’t changed it. You gave him a big smile, rising from your seat, as you wanted to hug him and tell him how good he looked.

“Looking good there, Norris.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll run up the stairs to change,” he teased, soon linking arms with you as you headed towards the door. But you knew that he was just teasing, he would not change as the time was at a limit.

“Honestly, though, I don’t think I look too shabby in this,” he asserted, eliciting a giggle from you.

“What can I say? I have an eye for what works.”

“Maybe you're onto something.”

"Maybe I need to trust you more, with clothes."

"You should."

He opened the door, so he could let you both out and locked the door after you both, but before you could walk to the car, he pulled you into his chest and gave you a romantic long kiss and then pulled away to look into your eyes.

"I love you, angel"

"I love you, handsome."

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  when you say their dick is too big 𝆬 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Kunikida, Fyodor, Nikolai, Sigma, Bram, PM!Dazai

content: nsfw, some dub con, size difference, dacryphilia, degradation, praise, breeding kink, fangs, sadism, corruption kink

| reblogs & comments very appreciated! | kinktober masterlist |

You're on your back, your legs spread terribly wide when you suddenly gasp out that it's too much and he won't fit into you. DAZAI merely raises an eyebrow in response, his smirk sly and, oh, he'd be a liar to say he's not enjoying this. There's tears in your eyes, slowly dripping down your cheeks as his cock all but spears you open, and your whimpers are pitiful.

He's quick to coo at you, faux sympathy dripping from his voice as his words, sweet yet degrading, make you squirm; he doesn't stop moving even once while telling you that you're opening up so well for him, you must really be made for this, you're a natural at spreading your legs like a slut. Despite concealing it with praise, he's terribly mean, a jerk to the bone, and seeing you cry only makes more precum pearl at the head of his dick. His thrusts are unnecessarily rough, though you're not complaining anymore — not that you're able to, as the only coherent word that falls from your lips is his name.

“Oh? My, my, belladonna, look at you; suddenly you take my cock so well. And you're so wet, too! Don't tell me you've been lying to me when you said it was too much for you to handle! Ah, either way, you look quite adorable like this.”

CHŪYA notices something is wrong when your thighs tense where they're wrapped around his waist. He's quick to pause in his movements, his gaze shifting from curious to concerned as his eyes meet your tear-filled ones, though he can't help but huff out a gentle laugh when he hears your worries — that he'll never fit, that he'll rip you apart.

His lips brush over your own as he smiles against your mouth, his tone just a little teasing as he tries to calm you down. Then, he reaches down, his thumb drawing lazy circles around your throbbing clit, and you all but flinch at the sudden pleasure that shoots up your spine. You already seem to unclench a little at that, though he offers to finger you more or to eat you out nonetheless; after all, the best way to make you relax is to make you feel good, right?

“Aren't you a flatterer, baby? Hah, don't you worry your pretty little head that much. So you're still too tense, hm? Let's change that then. Wanna cum on my fingers first before I fuck you?”

The second you whine about his dick being too big, RANPO pauses for a second. Then, however, his lips curl into a smirk and you can all but feel how his dick twitches inside of you. He doesn't even bother to pretend that your words don't turn him on; his hips thrust forward in sudden impatience, though you're way too tight for him to sink in all the way.

He can't help but tease you for your simply unrealistic worries — of course he'll fit, silly you —, though Ranpo has to admit that the sight of you, whimpering and teary-eyed, is quite a nice one. He's quick to think of a solution; it being him leaning down to close his lips around one of your nipples, kneading the soft skin of your tits between his fingers. It'll certainly take your mind off things and, well, he's not one to ever ignore an opportunity to mouth at your chest.

“What are you saying? That I won't fit? That's adorable, sugar. Adorable and naïve, if I may say so. I'll definitely make it fit. Ah, but why don't you relax a little first? You always like it when I do this with my tongue, after all.”

When you all but choke on a sob while telling KUNIKIDA that he's too big, with tears welling up in your eyes, his eyebrows twitch into a frown. He stops almost immediately, his expression one of concern as he checks on you to make sure you're alright. Eventually, once you've calmed down a little, he attempts to push more of his dick into you, though he won't force it; if you tell him to stop again, he will.

His lips are soft against your forehead as he presses a kiss there; Kunikida is all about praising you while he finally bottoms out. His voice is more raspy than usual yet soothing, though his constant sweet words are rather counterproductive — you clench tightly around his cock when he calls you a good girl, after all.

“Fuck—, ah, good girl. You take me so damn well. See? It fits after all. I told you so. Oh—, God, you're tight. Relax a little for me, at least try to. Yes? There we go. That's good.”

For less than a split second, FYODOR'S lips twitch into a pleased smirk when you whimper and cry about his dick being too much for you to take. You make a pitiful picture; on your back with your thighs spread wide, your own arousal clinging to your skin, and yet you're crying, your bottom lip trembling and whole body shaking and tense. He's certain you've never looked more adorable, more innocent before, and the urge to ruin you properly is nearly overwhelming.

He coos reassuring words at you while pressing into you steadily, not even pausing when you beg him to; after all, don't you want to take what he's giving you? Are you not keen on pleasing him? Soon enough, his narrow hips are flush with yours, and amusement sparkles in his eyes as you hiccup out some more sobs, yet you're not complaining anymore. Besides, you're obviously enjoying this; why else would you be this damn wet? While his initial pace was uncharacteristically gentle, his thrusts are anything but, and soon enough you're trying to curl into him, to hide your face in his shoulder and to hold onto him, scrambling for purchase as the head of his dick nudges against what you're sure is your cervix. Fyodor doesn't wish to see you cry, he craves to see you break.

“Oh? Did I understand you correctly, you want me to stop? My, my, dear, and here I thought you were so keen on being obedient. Ah? So you did change your mind after all? You're awfully fickle today, darling, but I won't hold it against you in a situation like this. Simply lie there all pretty and focus on taking what I'm giving you. You can manage that, yes?”

Honestly, you think NIKOLAI is being unnecessarily cruel when he positions you on his lap, his smirk smug; he knows well enough that the obvious size difference of you intimidates you greatly, and while making you ride him might seem like a kind idea, you're sure there's a hidden motive you don't get yet. It becomes obvious when he pushes you down onto his cock, his grip on your hips ungiving even as you tense up and tell him that it's too much. In fact, his smirk only widens at your pleas to give you a break.

He chuckles when you tear up, his eye shining with mirth and, really, you're in for a tough time; he enjoys this terribly much, how much weaker and tinier you are than him, and seeing you cry with your tears spilling over your cheeks only makes him thrust up into you harder. He doesn't hesitate to comment on each and every reaction of yours either, if only because you're terribly adorable when embarrassed.

“Oh? You're adorable, darl! You're truly pretty when you cry like this, you know? And the way your tiny cunt's so tight around me, too — ah, you're just a wet dream come true, aren't you? Come on, doll, be good and cry some more for me, yes?”

SIGMA stops pushing into you the second you tell him to stop because he's too big, he won't fit into you; he raises his eyebrows in mild surprise, though one look at your flushed face and teary eyes is enough to know you truly believe that. What matters most to him is your comfort; he's quick to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss while murmuring soothing words, his touches careful and loving.

Despite being impatient himself — can you blame him? You're still clenching tightly around half of his dick, wet walls pulsing around the tip of his cock —, he doesn't mind waiting until you're fully comfortable and allow him to continue. By the time that happens, though, Sigma's pace is more rough, more fast than it would have initially been; he's so close already, just from having you involuntarily warm his dick for a while, and the way his hips snap against your plush ass has both of you moaning.

“Try and calm down, will you, love? Ah—, you feel so good around me already. Absolutely heavenly. I promise I won't hurt you. Simply tell me when you're ready.”

Honestly, PM! DAZAI doesn't get why you'd possibly think that babbling about his dick being too much for you would make him stop — the second he notices the way you're squirming and whimpering, sudden fear obvious on your face, given how he's only halfway inside of you and you already feel so full, he scoffs. In his mind, you're being ridiculous, though the way you sob and whimper is at least amusing to him.

A sadist at heart, Dazai gives you a second to relax, only to thrust into you at once moments later. Your breath catches in your throat and your whole body is shaking pathetically, and his wide smirk borders on uncanny as his nails dig into your soft inner thighs, drawing blood. He's not above mocking you for being this pathetic; his words are anything but nice as he calls you a slut and a whore for spreading your legs for him this willingly despite acting all shy.

“Ah, I can't believe you're crying just because of my dick, darling. Should I feel flattered or pitiful? Oh—, hah, would you look at that? You're all but dripping. One second you say you want to stop, the next you're gushing around my dick like a bitch in heat. Tell me, love, what should I think about that?”

You're on your back, your legs spread wide, and you can't help but cry out when BRAM'S dick pushes into you moments later. You're incredibly tight, your cunt clenching down hard around him, making it nearly impossible to push in further and earning you a low grunt from him. Halfway in, you choke out garbled pleas about how he'll never fit into you, that he's too big and it's just anatomically impossible, though Bram doesn't care to hear anything about that.

Instead, he huffs out an almost disbelieving laugh before he sinks into you with one smooth thrust, all but relishing in the way you cry out and arch your back off the bed, your thighs shaking. For a second, his fangs graze over your throat, not breaking skin, but the sensation is enough to take your mind off how much he's stretching your cunt out — that is, until he thrusts into forcefully, causing your sight to blur with tears of pain and pleasure alike.

“Oh? So you dare to complain even when I fuck someone as filthy as you? Hah. What silly thoughts you have. Worry not, I'll make it fit.”

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[bitterchocoo]

Hello. I was wondering if you could make a platonic Honkai Star Rail story with the reader being Sunday's child and but they ended up living with their mother because Sunday and the readers mother got a divorce when the reader was very young. it takes awhile but a few years but the reader returned to Penacony with their mother for a visit. (I was kind of inspired by Charlie and Lucifer's relationship from hazbin hotel) (But if you're uncomfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning, afternoon or goodnight😊)

Like Father Like Son

Sunday | M. Reader as his child (Platonic)

----------

"You can't stop DNA.."

----------

Penacony. Planet of Festivities.

Or rather..

His birthplace.

The place he never would have thought he'll visit.

He was young, yes, but the memory still sear into his brain like a stain on a white shirt. The fighting, the yelling. Everything.

To think he'll be going back to the place where these memories took place...

It left him on edge.

Sure there are some good memories. The laughter, the joy, the perpetual smiles.

He remembered how he would enter his father's office and saw him hard at work, those countless paperwork on his desk and that stern expression that softened once his eyes locked onto him. His precious son. His little angel.

Tales.. about his lofty dreams..

He would listen to it breathlessly.

A kind man with ambition. That was the type of man his father is. Although..

Through some other things.. that image began to stain. Leaving behind holes and stains on a picture perfect family.

.

.

.

Dewlight Pavilion. A place with insane security, even when it's "family" that's visiting. Paranoid much? But nonetheless, the place is exactly as he once remembered it was. Filled with puzzles and other security mechanisms. Why did he decide to go here again? To visit his father? Why is he doing this while his mother is busy lounging around at Golden Hour?

No matter.

It doesn't matter.

None of it matters.

After gently knocking at the door, he opened it and was greeted by a specious office and the man himself. His wings can't help but flutter at the sight of his father. After all these years...

"Long time no see.. father.."

"Ah, you finally arrived, [Name]. How was the ride?"

"It was nice, the driver was also very welcoming."

Getting up from his seat, Sunday approached his son, standing in front of him. He can't help but smile at the sight. "You've grown. Last I saw you, you barely even reached my waist."

[Name] laughed at his father's remark. "Ha ha! Oh but I was just a toddler back then."

They're very alike.

Both donning a perpetual smile, their auras are warm and welcoming, their clothing is equally fancy and well tailored.

They're more alike than they originally thought.

----------

As days passed by, their little family reunion went smoothly, no bumps on the road. As it should have been. Sometimes [Name] can't help but wonder if this is the life he'll live if only his parents didn't get a divorce. It's nice, it's warm. He feels.. complete..

A happy family at last.

----------

He doesn't like it.

He doesn't like him.

Not one bit.

He doesn't like the fact that this.. guest..

The mess, these shenanigans, the tricks they're pulling. Whatever this guest is doing, he doesn't like it.

How could he? When this wretch is plotting everything!? Who knows what goes through their head?! What if they try to do something to his now happy family?! What if they try to do something to Penacony?!

He can't have that! He won't allow it!

Not after "Death" had picked its prey.

After losing someone to that "thing" [Name] isn't too keen on letting something else go out of control.

As the son of the Family's Head. [Name] has rights to pretty much everything and the thought of this guest causing more harm doesn't sit right with him.

"Nice office."

"Thank you."

An invite from the one and only [Name], son of the Head of the Family. That's something no one in their right mind could refuse. How could they? It's him after all! The second most influential person in Penacony, second to his father.

The two casually walked through the office, while the guest is busy admiring the specious and luxurious office, [Name] had stopped in front of the giant aquarium in the office. One he had requested upon the construction of his very own office in the Dewlight Pavilion.

The light of the aquarium gently illuminates the room, giving it a nice blue glow. The fishes swim through the waters, unbothered and calm. They're safe after all. No predators are there to harm them. An aquarium is the most safest place for these creatures.

The guest soon noticed [Name]'s interest in the aquarium as they soon joined him at watching the fishes swim freely from one end to the other.

"I like aquariums. They're nice, you can put as many creatures as you want and decorate it as you wish..." [Name] spoke up, breaking the silence between them. "I can see that, the tank is pretty big and you have lots of different fishes here too." The guest replies, making a simple observation before turning their head towards the winged man.

"But that's not why you summoned me, right?"

"Now what makes you say that? What if I wanted to make you my friend?"

They went silent after hearing those words came from the other's mouth. [Name] chuckles at the reaction, putting his hands behind his back, he asked. "What is Penacony to you?"

"Penacony..? It's.. a nice place.. it's like a paradise.. a home. What about you? What's Penacony to you?"

His gentle smile seems to widen at the question that's been thrown back at him, his gaze never leaving the aquarium, he answered. "I'm so glad you found a home here... A flower garden isolated by the rules of the world."

"The only absolute law is simply to live and not cause any harm, everyone must live in harmony here..."

"I adore it."

"It's like an aquarium, a unique world of my own creation."

.

.

.

.

.

The first thing he thought of when he saw such.. disharmony.. is..

"A serpent had made its way to my Garden of Eden."

Penacony.. Planet of Festivities..

That's what it's known for.. but to [Name]..?

It's an aquarium. A unique world of his own creation. His Garden of Eden.

How dare they.. how dare this guest do such a thing and ruin the harmony inside this paradise of his?! His own creation.. it has to be a perfect place. How dare this guest cause such a thing! The Family already has that Memory Meme on their plate, they don't need another one!

This serpent that had entered his Garden of Eden.. how dare they try to tempt the people with the forbidden fruit..

No matter.

It doesn't matter.

Not at all.

.

.

.

.

.

"Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear his tongue and palm with a hot iron, so he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows."

They're very alike.

Both donning a perpetual smile, their auras are warm and welcoming, their clothing is equally fancy and well tailored.

That same smile that hides their schemes.

That aura that left people feeling on edge.

That unsettling chill that runs down on people's spine the moment they gave them a certain look.

Those wings and halo that makes them look ethereal yet mysterious.

They're more alike than they originally thought.

And "control" is their middle name.

.

.

Like father like son, no?

----------

Should I make a part two of this? If so, who will be the "guest" ? You guys have any ideas in mind?

----------

[weenwrites]

can you please do TFP Ratchet, Optimus, or Ultra Magnus with a human charge who is too soft hearted. Like they can’t say no too a friend and they would give people presents no. The charge is very shy and lonely cause they go to a different school than the other humans and the charge would do anything for people to like them

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

Ratchet

He doesn't have the patience or tact to try and help you with your problem in a way that is helpful to you aside from telling you that you have one, so he just says no to your "friends" for you! Well, he offers to do it for you. Put him on the phone with your friend, he can pretend to be some relative you're staying over with, and he can say no on your behalf.

But he'll only do this for you oh so many times before you can't turn to him to do it anymore. He'll keep trying to nudge you towards saying "no" yourself, and whenever he hears you say "yes" to something you don't want to do, you can hear his disappointed sigh from the couch and you can see that he simply lowers his head and keeps working.

Optimus

He puts it much gentler than Magnus does, it's better to be liked for who you truly are than being liked for the front you put up to please others. This front you put on will only attract the wrong kind of people, the ones that make you miserable. Granted, there is a chance that nice people may come around you, but you're lying to them when you say yes to things you don't truly wish to do. He's not disappointed or upset, he's just concerned about the kind of people you attract with this behavior.

He gently tries to encourage you to say no, and if you feel guilty about changing your mind, he'll tell you that it's alright to change your mind at the last second. And even if you can't bring yourself to say no, then it's alright, you can try again next time.

Ultra Magnus

To put it bluntly, Magnus thinks you're too much of a pushover. It's easy for people to take advantage of your unassuming nature and people-pleasing tendencies, especially if they know they can keep getting away with it. He knows this can become a very dangerous thing if you happen to get around the wrong people, so he attempts to tell you that you need to stand up to yourself.

Although depending on how sensitive you are, it may actually take a while for you to understand where he's coming from, because he doesn't handle the topic with any emotional tact, nor does he beat around the bush. He's not good with being too considerate of your emotions, so unfortunately this is the best you're going to get.

But when he eventually gets around to trying to help you out with this issue—that is, if you truly allow him to help, not just to please him—he attempts to teach you to say "no" to people. You need to be louder and firmer with your declination, he'll say, you need to maintain direct eye-contact as non-verbal body-language is just as important as verbal body-language in order to make the overall message a consistent and clear: "no". His teaching methods are strict, militaristic, and formal, which may yield varying results, but hopefully they're helpful nonetheless.

[mashiraostail]

could you elaborate on that wyll turn om your wrote? pretty please? 👉👈

being a wyll fan is literally looksmaxxing.

nsfw under da cut!! My Wyll bias is sooo gnarly i could write a book about him he's sooo handsome.

You were hobbiling towards camp, the sun was already lowering in the sky, not that you had the energy to lift your head up to see the sky and notice. Wyll had your left side and Karlach your right, you were dragging your feet letting the duo mostly carry you.

"I think," Karlach hoists you up a bit, "we should ban the casting of haste on our good friend here for at least 5 days."

"Possibly six." Wyll agrees, squeezing your waist a bit.

"Never again." You turn into him, in favor of Karlach.

"I'm sorry, Gale was hoarding scrolls." Wyll hobbles a bit at the sudden shift of weight but he still helps you along none the less.

"I wasn't hoarding anything!" Gale argues, "don't blame this on me! I'm carrying all the stuff, I've repented!"

You chuckle a bit, "don't be mean to Gale."

"Defending Gale??" Karlach guffaws, "oh god, they're delrious." She hoists you over her shoulder, "Wyll standby, they might need mouth to mouth."

You laugh but reach out for Wyll nonetheless, "Wyll! Get me down!"

You lock eyes for a second with him, not before he gives your body, hoisted upon Karlach's shoulder, a once over . He can see your exposed sides through your armor, the fabric rumpled up so he could even see down to the small of your back. When he looks at your face he can't deny you do look a bit delirious. Your eyelids looked particularly heavy but you were smiling at him sleepy and content.

"Come on, give them to me Karlach you're scaring them." Wyll chuckles a bit and gestures for you.

"I don't know if you can keep this one on a leash." Karlach shakes her head, "what if they really have lost their mind? What if they're a doppelgänger?"

"Is it so odd they would be nice to me?" Gale sounds offended, "I'm shocked, and offended. We really are good friends, the two of us!"

Karlach sets you down on the ground once you can see your camp in the distance and you stumble into Wyll. He steadies you by your waist.

"Alright, be careful." Wyll wraps an arm around you, "Karlach don't shake them around so much next time."

You're laughing, giggling, turning into him. He uses his free hand to rub his face and look anywhere but you. You don't notice the way Karlach snickers but he sure does.

Back at camp the others were already settling in for the night, dinner had been started and everyone was lounging around pretty contentedly given the dire situation you all found yourselves in.

"Let's get you settled down then." Wyll helps you down to lounge against a log by the camp fire. "Are you alright?"

"I'm alright." Your head lolls to the side, "exhausted."

"I can imagine." Wyll produces a small flask of water and hands it to you, "have something to drink. I'll get you dinner." He starts to stand, "and try to wash up a bit? I'd hate for you to fall asleep covered in the dirt from today."

You nod lazily with no real intention of heeding his words, you could sleep in your armor right now. When he returns his own armor had been discarded and he had dinner in hand for you, to be fair to pot wasn't far away but you were almost certain you'd be sleeping right against this log tonight.

"Will you be alright if I go help Karlach out with some things?" The way you reach out for his hand makes his stomach flutter nervously. You're looking up at him with tired eyes, your dinner sitting beside you, forgotten.

"You won't stay with me? I need some place more comfortable to lay on." The back of your head is resting against the log you're leaned on. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

'I....will be back for you as soon as everything is sorted." He feels your thumb slide over his knuckles. You're pulling his hand subtly, enough so that he can feel and just take half a step towards you.

"Can't you sort it later?" You pull again and of course he kneels, not before choking back a gasp tinged with equal parts arousal and surprise. When you're closer to eye level he can see the way you fight to keep your head upright, the way it subtly lolls every time your eyelids linger closed. He supposed it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, to yield to you. He could lay down right beside you and your would go to him, wrap your arms around him, he could take a deep breath of you and enjoy the feeling of your skin against his. He'd wanted to do nothing more since your initial getting together, but he had difficulties finding the right time for such indulgences given your rather dramatic day to day lives. You seemed to not share his troubles, dusting your fingers over the tattered hem of his shirt and down the short hairs trailing towards his pants. He'd seen you look there before, but in the fleeting moments you spared with him you tended not to linger on it.

"Gods-" He doesn't manage to choke it back this time.

"Wyll," He feels your other hand starting up his arm.

"What are you doing now, I can't-" He's willing all the heat out of his face as your hand closes around the crook of his neck, "what are you doing now?" If you can sense his nervousness you don't mention it.

"Oi! Wyll!" Karlach's voice echos all the way across camp, it makes you jump.

"I'm sorry-" You scrub your face, "I'm tired it's...poor impulse control. Karlach is looking for you."

"Karlach is-" Wyll looks over his shoulder, "I'm....I mean she doesn't...it's not pressing." He clears his throat, "if you..have something you need from me?"

"Wyll!"

"It sounds pressing." You look up at him, "I'll..be here I can't move." You flop backwards and the loss of proximity makes Wyll feel cold. He gets up though, seems to dust himself off before heading in whatever direction Karlach had been screeching from.

He almost feels bad for how little help he is to Karlach. His mind simply can't stop wandering to how you stuck to him. How you'd seemed more than open to showing him all the things you liked about him, and all the places you'd wished to linger. He wondered if he hadn't gotten up would you have started letting your lips wander the way your hands did? Even covered in your conquests for the day he still found you to be incredibly inviting. Had you not been in the middle of camp he would have been happy to lay back and let you touch and mouth all over him, if it's what you wanted. And the way you'd said his name then too, it was just knocking around what felt like an otherwise empty skull. Poor impulse control? Did you think about touching him all the time then? What other impulses would your sleep hazed brain be unable to inhibit if you were alone with him? He was almost too egear to find out.

"You know they're alright?" Karlach seems to take his absent mindedness as worry, "just exhausted. It's gonna be okay."

"I.." Wyll shakes his head, trying to get the various nude images of you to fuck off, "yeah..gods..yeah trust me I know."

She seems to perk up a bit, "well is there something I don't know?"

"No secrets between friends, Karlach." Wyll waves her away as the memory of your sleepy, coy smile creeps back into his mind.

True to your word you don't move, not because you don't want to. You simply felt no desire or motivation to get up and move. You do eat a bit, and chat with Astarion briefly, but then you're alone again contemplating the fire. When Wyll returns your glad to see him for more reason than one.

"Gods, you're still in your armor." He holds his hands out to you and you take them, hoisting yourself up. "Come on, if you needed help cleaning up all you had to do was ask."

"I didn't want to trouble you." You follow him staying close behind as he walks around the edge of camp to the water. You cant resist the temptation to reach out and brush your fingers over the exposed nape of his neck, he falters just barely, but says nothing about it.

"It's no trouble." He sits you on a rock and starts helping you remove your armor. You do notice the way his eyes seem to latch onto each and every inch of your newly exposed skin. "It's an honor."

"An honor?" You laugh a little to try and hide your embarrassment, "come off it."

"It is." He insists, even taking off your boots for you. Once your armor was discarded he takes a damp cloth to your skin. "I'm honored you trust me to have you like this. I hope I'm one of a few."

"More like the only." The cloth feels perfect on your sore skin, red from where your armor chafed against you and dug into you all day. You figured, since he's touching you, you may as well get to touch him. You graze your fingers down his forearms, and over the veins on the back of his hand. Your other hand brushes over the side of his neck and down to his chest pulling just barely on the collar of his shirt.

"You'll never be rid of me if you keep blowing up my ego." Wyll warns you, but he's smiling, his free hand is damp too and pinning your hair off your face.

"I don't want to be rid of you, Wyll." You cast your gaze up to meet his, "I'd like you close, just like this, for the forseeable future. Closer even."

He laughs, "well there will be no protest from me." You feel a wave of warm content wash over you at the sound of his laughter and voice which it makes keeping your eyes open all the harder. You drag your flat palm over his chest, then back up over his shoulder.

"Am I putting you to sleep?" He asks, wringing the cloth over the water.

"It just feels nice." You shake your head, "'s all." He brings the rag to your face, beginning to wipe off the dirt stuck to you there. "And your voice is very soothing."

"Is it?" He seems elated to have you like this, if his grin and the flutter to his voice are any indication.

"And you're very handsome."

"I'm thrilled you think so, I've noticed you've been having a hard time keeping your hands to yourself." You can hear the smile in his voice as he drags the cloth down the cut of your jaw, "but am I handsome enough that you'd consider spending the night with me?"

"I was worried you'd never ask." You manage it through a yawn that puffs your chests and pulls out your collarbones in a way that makes Wyll turn his eyes up to the stars to save his own decency.

"You're always invited. You know it's only a short walk across camp from your spot to mine." He's kneeling between your legs to get the best access to your neck and shoulders which he'd left for last. Your hands were wandering again, just like they had at the fire. One on his stomach and the other running up his arm and shoulder. After a moment he discards the cloth, but let's his hands stay against your skin. When you lean forward he isn't sure what you're going to do, but the way your lips graze over his exposed stomach and down to the hem of his pants was probably closer to the bottom of his list. He can feel your breath against his skin, in deep through your nose and out through barely parted lips.

You lean back again to see him, looking down at you with a mixture of shock and arousal.

"I'm not unwelcome, am I?" Both of your hands are on his arms now, like you were mapping out every part of him you liked, he was almost egar to find where you'd indulge yourself next.

"No, not not..not at all." He shakes his head and you feel his gaze all over your face and neck, almost like he was waiting for permission.

"KIss me." You turn up at the feeling of his hands on your face, he's quick to indulge you, and when he does he feels your hands drag immediately down to his chest and stomach.

"You've never touched me like this before." Wyll chuckles into your lips, "it's all very telling."

"My impulse control." You remind him and he hums, a knowing tone in his voice.

"Well feel free to..never control another impulse of yours again."

"Do you intend to make me wait forever, Wyll? To have you?" You wrap you arms around his shoulders and draw him into you, your lips go easily to his throat and down to his collarbones.

"I will not make you wait a second longer." He rolls over with you, taking you in his lap. He easily discards his shirt and feels you working at his pants which he doesn't protest in the slightest. "Tell me what you want." The feeling of your palms against his chest keep him grounded enough to keep talking to you, otherwise he thinks he'd be somewhere on cloud nine.

"Touch me, Wyll just touch me." He watched your chest rise and fall with shallow sleepy breaths, so content to look that he'd plain forgotten your request for him to touch as well. You guide his hands over your body, one on your chest and the other on your thigh. You kiss him, over his neck and shoulders, his bicep his chest, occasionally biting anywhere that looked particularly supple.

"Oh gods you're being unfair now-" He feels you starting to rut against him, "gods you're so lovely."

You're practically purring for him and he realizes he's hardly done anything but call you lovely, and if it was as easy as that he was happy to continue to indulge you.

"Maybe tiring you out like this isn't a bad thing." He feels your hips starting to to stutter and he figures he'll do you the favor of turning you over and helping you along.

"Should I take this off?" He tugs the last bit of fabric covering you and all you can do is nod and drop your head back. You're grateful he doesn't feel the need to tease you or be cruel, he's touching you immediately, fingers stroking over you with a firm touch. You're arching into him gratefully, all the while still practically groping him.

You can feel his breath heavy against the side of your neck as he dips a finger inside, then another. He holds one of your legs against his chest, the other you spread almost comically apart for him. You were holding your breath, you aren't sure why, maybe you'd forgotten to let it out.

He presses his temple against your leg draped over his chest and shoulder while his eyes scan over your body, "don't hold your breath, just let it all out, let yourself go, I've got you, right here." His fingers curl at the knuckles and true to his word you take in a deep, shuddering breath, your hand scrambling for his wrist.

"Please, Wyll," You squeeze his wrist until he pulls away, "I want you."

"I know you do." He runs his palm flat against your stomach, "can't I just enjoy you a bit first?"

"Please." You turn your head away but buck your hips a bit.

"Okay, okay, you know I can never say no to you." He leans down to your lips and you wrap your legs around him desperately as he pushes in.

"Yeah that's it, wrap your legs around me, just like that pull me in. I want to feel you, close." He's rocking his hips into you, he can feel the rattling breaths your taking in as your chest expands against his. He doesn't mind the not so subtle groping of his arms and chest at all, or the way you bury your face into his neck. The biting was unexpected but he really doesn't mind that either.

"You can bite me, hold onto me, it's okay, whatever you want." Your moans make the side of his neck vibrate underneath your lips as you squeeze your legs around him, pulling him deeper. You feel his chest rumbling against yours as he moans, "oh gods, just like that, pull me in, that's perfect."

If he had any idea what the sound of his voice and the rumbling of his chest were doing for you he was being more than generous with you.

"I love to look at your face like this, you can't even keep your eyes open," he looks down at you, just a few inches between your faces, he uses one arm to hold himself up, the other pulls your leg tighter around him.

You head lolls to the side and he makes a quiet noise, like he's kissing his teeth, "don't move, don't move. I'm right here, it's all yours, I'm all yours, I just want to see you." When you turn your head back to him he grins, "that's it, that's it my love."

Now that you think of it, the grin on his face tells you he more than understands what the sound of his breathless voice does for you. He'd probably always been a devil, even without the horns, they certainly helped.

It didn't take long for you to work yourself up to near hysterics, especially when you found the sort burst of energy to turn over. You were sat on his lap, with unfettered access to his chest and arms, and a perfectly clear sightline to his stomach. You didn't need much to finish after that, and when you both do it's easy to flop down onto him, pressing your face into his neck.

One of his hands holds the base of your skull, the other rests on your back. "I'll have to talk to Karlach, about that rule." He pushes your hair to the side, "I'd like for you to always be this honest with me."

"I'm always honest." You sound almost offened, but too tired to push it there.

"It was your body, you love me." He sounds proud, preening, actually thrilled,"you couldn't help yourself, you were practically begging me to touch you and I hadn't even done anything. I quite like this side of you, you know? Who were they? What's their name? How could I see more of them?"

"Stop it," You shove him, your face burns but he couldn't see it, hidden in the crook of his neck, "I want to go to bed."

"I will happily take you there." Wyll's hand drags suggestively down your back and you gasp at him.

"To sleep."

"Yes, I completely understand." He sounds smart when he says it, teasing, and simply delighted.

"And you should carry me, for you indiscretions."

"Oh, nothing would make me happier my love."

[happy74827]

Parallel Hearts

[Marty Mcfly x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Just as he was about to leave for good, Marty finds himself at a standstill because of you.

WC: 1,595

Category: Fluff

I always wanted to write about the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance and now I have. Enjoy!

『••✎••』

“Marty, that was very interesting music.”

The words were uttered in a tone that was as dry as a desert, but Marty didn’t care to take heed of it, for he had a mission – and that was to get home as fast as he could.

He knew Doc was waiting for him at the clock tower, with the DeLorean fully hooked up and ready to go. His face was probably set and grim, too. In fact, Marty was certain Doc would be more than a little concerned, since Marty had been away much longer than he had told him.

But he had to make sure he was going to be able to return back to 1985, so what did it matter if he spent an extra ten minutes just to make sure he was still going to exist?

Besides, the old-fashioned audience actually appreciated his guitar skills (for the most part), and it felt good to be noticed, even if it wasn't the type of audience he was used to. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

And so… Marty was going to leave this outdated time period behind with a smile and return back to 1985, the town Hill Valley that he had grown up in, where he had his best friend who knew him, his frenemy, his parents, and the life that he loved.

He was going to return to the Hill Valley he called home, but then he saw you.

He had only met you a couple of times before, but he recognized you instantly. It was hard to forget the young woman that was so dedicated and so determined to help him out in his mission, despite being completely clueless about it. You had helped him a great deal with setting up George and Lorraine, and the way you had helped him was something he could never repay.

He couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of regret when he thought of his rushed adventure in the past, because he had never gotten the chance to get to know you. He was just aware of your name and that you were a good friend of Lorraine.

“Leaving so soon?” you asked, the smile on your lips soft and gentle. Your eyes sparkled in a way that was very familiar, and he remembered how Lorraine had looked at him when he first approached her.

It wasn't exactly the same look, but there was a spark of something in your eyes that made Marty stop in his tracks.

Maybe it was a mistake to linger, because he knew that his life was quite literally on the line. And yet, here he was, doing just that.

“Uh, yes?” he replied, feeling like an absolute fool for being so tongue-tied. He could barely manage to get a word out, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He was usually cool under pressure, but right now, he was anything but cool.

Your expression softened, and you looked at him with such sympathy that it made his heart ache. He could feel a blush slowly creeping up his cheeks.

It didn’t make any sense, he didn't even know you! And yet, it was as though there was a connection. It wasn’t something physical, or something tangible, but something deeper and more meaningful.

Marty couldn’t understand his strange thoughts, or the way his heart was racing so fast. The sensation was unfamiliar, and it was almost as though he was experiencing his own life from an outsider's perspective.

It was strange, and not something that was easy to describe. But one thing was certain...

He really did want to get to know you.

You tilted your head slightly, a look of amusement crossing your features. He realized then that he had been silent for a long time.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out and placing your hand on his arm. "You look a little lost."

“What? No! I mean, yes. Yeah, I'm… peachy." he replied quickly, trying his best to regain some semblance of composure. "I, uh, just wanted to thank you again for helping me out with the whole Lorraine and… uh, George situation. It worked, and they're together... in love. Soon, they'll get married and have three kids, and hopefully this time be a happy family.”

He could see your confusion at his words, but you hid it well as a smile spread across your face. "That’s… very specific, but I’m glad it worked out. Lorraine really needed someone who would cherish her. She's a very sweet girl."

There was a long silence, and Marty felt his heart thumping wildly against his chest. It was so loud that he was certain you could hear it.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. It wasn’t working.

One thought told him that he needed to go. The other urged him to stay.

A strange mixture of fear and anticipation made his heart pound even faster. He glanced around the room, searching for an escape route.

It would be easier to walk away now and forget about you. He knew he couldn’t afford to dally, not when Doc was waiting for him at the clock tower. He would probably have a heart attack if he was kept waiting any longer.

Marty turned to look at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "I should, uh… really be going," he said, his voice faltering. "It's been really nice to see you again."

Before he could take another step, though, you reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

Marty turned to look at you, and was surprised by the intensity in your eyes.

"Can you spare one dance?" you asked, giving him a small smile. "Just one. It'll be quick, I promise."

He had a feeling it would be a bad idea. He was on a deadline, and time was running out. He was also supposed to be avoiding any form of contact with people from the past. It could change history, and he couldn't risk making another mistake.

But wouldn’t it be a mistake if he walked away from you?

What if the reason he felt this strange connection was because he was meant to get to know you? What if it was a sign that he was destined to meet you, and that he shouldn't walk away?

Marty took a deep breath, and decided that, for once, he was going to go against his better judgement and follow his heart.

Doc would probably hate him for it, but Marty didn’t care. What he did care about was the way your smile brightened when he caved and allowed you to drag him back.

He was slightly irritated with the fact that the band was still playing without that guitar, as it meant they completely bullshitted him on the whole 'can’t play without Marvin' thing, but when he took your hand in his, he forgot what he was mad about, and found himself getting swept away by the moment.

It wasn't a complicated dance. In fact, it was incredibly simple, but it was nice. Dancing with you was nice. It was like dancing in a dream. He felt like he was floating on air as he was lulled by the soft melody of the song.

It was a magical moment, and he wished it could last forever. However, reality came crashing down upon him, and he was suddenly reminded that his time was short.

He had to get home.

"I... I really have to go," Marty muttered, his gaze flickering down to your lips. You were close, so close that he could feel your warm breath tickling his cheek.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss you, but he knew that would be a mistake. If he kissed you, it would only complicate things.

As much as he wanted to stay, he had to go.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I wish I could stay, but I… I can't.”

"That's okay," you replied, giving him a sad smile. "I understand."

You pulled away, and Marty instantly missed the warmth of your body pressed against his. Man, this was hard. He had never felt such a strong attraction to anyone before, and it was a struggle to resist.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Marty," you began, and his name sounded so sweet coming from your lips. "Thank you. For everything."

Before he could ask what you meant, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It was light and quick, but it was enough to send his heart racing.

"Goodbye, Marty," you whispered, a hint of sadness in your voice.

And then you were gone, disappearing into the crowd, leaving him standing there with his jaw hanging open and his heart racing.

He didn't know what to say or how to react.

All he knew was that he would never forget the look in your eyes as you turned and walked away. It caused his hands to shake a little, and he couldn’t help but run one through his hair.

Damn. He couldn’t stop the memory of the way your lips felt against his cheek from lingering in his mind. It was a moment he would never forget.

He didn’t know if he would ever see you again, but he knew that he would never forget the girl with the sparkling eyes.

And, perhaps, if he was lucky, he would see you again.

[astriiformes]

Comparing your work to other people's is a great way to kill your joy for a thing so let me be clear and say this is not that, I am just a human person with human emotions and sometimes that means needing to be the tiniest bit petty and then moving on. You know. For your health or something.

There is a very popular cosplayer who coincidentally keeps doing the same costumes as me, and I am just the tiniest bit annoyed about it, because as is the case with many (...most) very popular cosplayers, they have a very specific, airbrushed, conventionally attractive, perfect makeup, etc aesthetic to all their photos that is. Not what I personally value in cosplay, at least. Which is fine! Different people having different approaches to costumes is part of what makes cosplay such an interesting hobby!

But it does bother me a tiny bit that the work I put into my costumes is not necessarily the kind of work that gets attention, and it does make it a little glaringly obvious when it's The Same Characters.

(Also you all know the kinds of characters I cosplay. I gravitate towards them in part because they have weird energy, not super put together attractive energy. But that's only part of my point.)

Anyways. I do not follow them on Instagram because why would I do that, but nonetheless I saw that they're apparently also doing a Laois cosplay now, which I guarantee will get lots more attention than mine. And for the most part that's fine, I love cosplay and I love doing my weird little thing and I especially love that I do in fact know other people that value the same things as me & that we have fun together. I will have a great time in my fun little costume, dressing up with my friends in their fun little costumes and I am looking forward to it. And I do not actually need likes to validate that I am becoming a pretty damn good cosplayer (whose stuff is better quality than many popular cosplayers' because I care more about craftsmanship than I do getting attention). I am even thinking pretty seriously about having Laois be my first ever competition costume if the armor turns out alright, because I think I'm genuinely getting to that level.

But it would just be kind of neat if being a weird little guy with weird little ideas who is into the hobby because I like sourcing historical patterns and materials and thinking about the worldbuilding that goes into costumes and creating neat little "in-universe" ephemera to hand out to people and all the things I like didn't always mean getting overshadowed by Instagram Perfect Attractive People.

Alas. Okay glad that's out of my system I'm normal again. I'm going to make some more chain mail.

[herzgeist-writes]

Ahhhh yes!! I had to jump on this now that your requests are open again. Could you do Law x reader, maybe a newer relationship and they find out they're expecting? You can run with it however. If you want to do a scenario where they keep it or where they can't keep it, totally up to you. How would Law react or what would he say? Thank you!!

Pairing: Law x fem!reader | Word count: 2k | Warnings: Angst - mentioning of abortion

Synopsis: (Y/n)-ya are you alright? Please talk to me! Your boyfriend is in worry. Almost every morning you run to the bathroom, not able to keep your guts in. Fatigue crashes over you and- oh my god . . you missed out your period this month. Could it be?

A/N: I always wanted to write this . . man I had to keep in some salty droplets to myself, while writing this. Thank you so much for requesting Anon - hope you like it

this song struck a nerve

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

"Good morning sleepy head!", you whisper sweetily, shuffling over to your completely knocked out man - he isn't ready to get up just now. The only thing you hear are his annoyed grumbles as he rubs his heavy lids and glides through his messed up raven hair.

Supposedly he mutters a faint 'Morning, my heart', words so gentle reaching your ears it warms you from within. Kisses pepper along his jaw line, over his cheeks and onto his nose, pestering Law to a certain extent. You earn a set of growls, yet as you break away, he pulls you in closer again. 'Don't stop' translated from his mute language.

Pressed on top of him, you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, his scent leaving you in a haze, the odor reminding you of amber musk. "Coffee?" - "Never a day without.", his answer lets you snicker and you heave yourself off him, making your way to the bathroom.

Suddenly, the unexpected state of feeling awfully sick to your stomach strikes you. Slamming your palm against your lips to withstand the urge to rid the unwelcome gathering of acid in your mouth, you sprint to the toilet.

"(Y/n)-ya? What's wrong?", Law immediatly gets on his feet, following you in concern. As the door slams right in front of his face, he merely hears your pained groans. Leaning against the wall, he idles his head against it impatiently. So he asks again: "May I come in?" - "No!"

He sighs, vexed by the fact he cannot not help you at all, but he isn't giving in so easily. Knocking against the metallic door he explains: "If you won't let me see you, I can't take proper care of you. Please."

On the other end of the creaking steel you stand, opening the way to the bathroom. Paleness hues your face and dark circles draw beneath your eyes, even competing the sleep deprived doctor's. Something isn't right, that is for certain.

With slow motions he approaches you, worry furrowing his brows and steel orbs hovering over your rather fragile appearing frame. There are no additional observations needed for him. "You just caught a norovirus. Erm, I mean you got the stomach flu.", he reassures you, lids narrowing suspiciously. Nonetheless accepting his prognosis, you don't pay no further mind to the occurence.

Which was easier said than done, as the sickness plagues you in the upcoming mornings. This is bad, it's been three days now since this chaos started.

The oddness couldn't get any worse can it? It won't last, will it? To your demise it does. You decide to call it out to your lover on a tranquil evening, snuggled up on the bed together and reading to your heart's content. "My love, do you remember the last time I was on my period?" - "Yes, it was from the 26th to the 30th last month. What's up?", his sharp mind never ceases to amaze you, remembering the smallest of matters with ease.

'Shit' reverbarates in your thoughts. It's past due. Thus you stutter: "Law, could you please scan me?" He stares at you and doesn't dare to question your request, simply tagging along. The both of you prepare yourselfs, you letting your legs hang from the edge of the mattress and the doctor goes about his work infront of you. Kikoku hums across his vision and the doctor analyses every inch of your quaking body.

Silence. The Captain is speechless. It is clear as day now. His deep voice reaches you, strain dragging his confusion: "You are . . well." - "Pregnant." Bewildered, also touched, Law leans in and cups your cheek lovingly. Are his eyes shimmering with the faint spark of tears? Lips quiver a sentence you wish you could eradicate out of your system this instant: "We can't keep her, (Y/n)."

"Her? It's a girl? How do you-", mid-utterance you realise your lack of underestanding has been answered verily quick, given the fact you are talking to a powerful man capable of every medical term beyond your comprehension. The ability allows him to see all possible aspects that are relevant to him.

And so, Law saw, that he could be a father to a little girl. Is what you thought at least, for he proceeds: "We're pirates. Having a baby out at sea isn't just dangerous for the child, it's going to be hell for you throughout the ten months of carrying it. The pressure in the submarine isn't exactly a good condition for your womb. I-"

Deep in thought he comes to a stop, scratching the back of his neck as he lifts his white hat off his dark strands. Never have you seen him this upset before, not out of agitation, but sadness - melancholy. Lungs retract and push out a shaky breath out of you as tears gather and you whimper: "I want to keep her. This is a sign of our love, given form, a life." your hand glides over your lower stomach, feeling it up in disbelief something starts to grow within you "We're at a point of coming to an end in piracy, Captain. We achieved our goals and more, what else is there left to gain? Please . ."

Your inner torment is met with stillness. The doctor just looks at you, a mixture of pain and indifference curling his lips to a frown. Cold steel irises fixate on your e/c ones, emotions vacant in his restless demeanor. "I love you with all my heart, and I would gladly give my all to you.", you fight against the lump in your throat, trying to keep composure, yet in vain.

Salty droplets dwell over your cheeks as you beg your partner to listen, to out his mind and reconsider.

Again, nothing escapes Law, only unsteady huffs of nervosity coming your way. The crack of your voice takes him aback as you raise against him: "Trafalgar, speak to me! Please . . let us find a home. I don't want to lose her. All I wish for is for us to be at peace for once! Now that we have the freedom to do what we want . . this is a miracle!"

It hurts. Your palm presses onto your belly, symbolising how dearly you cherish what Law has gifted you. Slowly you step closer to him, however he keeps his distance, leaving your shared room quietly. With a violent shake in your hand, you close your mouth with it, muffling the low cries that leave you as they get louder.

You just stand there, trembling in overwhelm. So this is it? You're not going to be the mother of your much adored significant other? Not to mention, will you be able to stay together as a couple?

Law hasn't left completely, his back pressed on the other side of the door, listening to your cries. Something inside him wants to go back in there, however his rational thinking won't budge, holding him in place. It rips him in two. Hence, even a resilient man of his stature cannot win the battle against the heartache, pouding in his chest. Pulling down the brim of his hat, he hides the tear drifting down his skin.

The day of the abortion has come. It frightens you, utterly crushes you. At the infirmary, you sit on the inspection table, sniffling and wiping away stray droplets to show more poise.

Entering the room, you see the tall shadow of your boyfriend and you shudder by his nearing presence. Exhaling deeply, you look up at him, noticing the dark circles beneath his eyes, darker than ever. Sleep was out of question for him, as the both of you decided to seperate your ways for the last two days.

The nodachi glows in a light blue light, and Law mutters a deft 'scan', checking in on your vitals once more, before continuing his persumed ongoing. Then - nothing. Sheer fret overcomes you, anxious about his hesitation: "Captain?"

Laying aside his weapon, the doctor inches your direction and towers over you. The white hat finds a spot beside you on the inspection table and the tall man kneels down. "You'll be a great mother, my heart.", he whispers, reaching out his inked and calloused hand to your lower tummy, softly pressing onto it.

What does he mean? Confused you tilt your head. To his notice, he gives you a pained smile: "I want to keep her too. I will do everything in my power to find a home for us, however I am uncertain about the baby's health, if she will inherit the same suffering I went through as a child."

The shattered pieces of your world get rebuilt with hope, hearing him fumble his vaguely unadmitted sentiment. This is where tears of anguish turn into joy, earning a sigh of relief out of you, although the thought of your baby possibly being afflicted with the amber lead disease troubles you no doubt.

"It's difficult for me to say if I'm able to protect her from it. I don't want her to go through the same . . she deserves . . you-", swallowing hard, he rests his head in your lap "I need the both of you, safe and sound.", his worry is audible in his low and raspy voice, feeling the tensitiy in his figure. Black locks glide through your fingers, massaging the back of his head gently - it is concerning, yet there is a tiny speck of hope lurking.

Law faces you, a long lasting look of admiration and love beams at you as he attempts to smile again, this time with more confidence: "I want to see your belly grow. There's nothing else in the world I wish to witness more than you carrying our baby. Forgive me . . for my doubts and selfishness. . but, are you still willing to do that for me? With me?"

Without a word, you accept his wish in a nod, carressing his austere jaw and softly fondling his sideburn. The man before you melts, overjoyed, though with a hint of anxiety, he kisses the hand that consoles him and leans towards your stomach, doing all the same - lips granting your soon to be growing womb a peck of affection.

After staying like this for a while, him resting on your lap, you hum cautiously: "How would you like to call her?" The reply takes some time, the cogs in his mind noticably spinning and turning, until he finally mumbles: "Lami."

"Captain, look! She's so small in my paws!", the polar bear mink titters lowly, afraid to scare the little one in his black paw pads. Law simpers, asking his former Vice Commander to be careful. Bepo sniffs the tiny human with his enormous bulby nose, flashing a big toothy grin as he sees Lami chuckling and smiling, holding out to the snow white fur.

The display of sheer joy, contentment - warms your heart. You take a stand beside your partner. Law wraps his arm around you, kissing the crown of your head as he whispers: "Thank you." To that you blush, abashed by his mellow behaviour. Oh how you love him.

The both of you watch the mink play with your new born, lulling in baby language as he cradles it gingerly.

Luckily, Lami is a perfectly healthy baby, a wonderful mix of her parents, pitch black hair and a cute round face.

"She has your smile, love.", you coo, nuzzling Law as you give him a side hug. All his stoic fades, for he grabs your chin and turns your head to put his lips on yours, cherry skin being embraced lovingly and he hushes subsequently: "Don't be ridiculous, I don't smile. She comes after you."

His retort tickles you, opting you to shove this man a bit to underline your acted appall. Law throws his trademark smirk at you, holding you close as he mutters: "Love you, my heart." - "I love you too."

The Surgeon of Death now understands the principle, the miracle of life. It is a well deserved gift, after living such a checkered life like he did, cherishing the feeling of fatherhood. Law truly loves you, his sweetheart of a woman, grateful for you brought his daughter to this world.

He will protect her at all costs, no matter what. The wish to see his little girl grow into a fierce and strong woman, caring all the same like her mother - he cannot wait.

[terrence-silver]

Does Terry Silver get nervous butterflies when in love? I like to think about his sensitive side, if such a thing exists.

---

Oh, it exists alright.

He's pacing up and down, trying on several different outfits, putting his stylists through hell because the impression he wants to leave matters more than anything else right now --- he's overthinking, he's overplanning, his mansion is practically under siege, the long-suffering Margaret is reminding Mr. Silver that he should please, most respectfully, calm down before he blows a fuse because here he is, practically vibrating with excitement and buying expensive gifts in advance...and then buying several additional ones while soaking in his jacuzzi because the first one seems somehow insufficient to what he desires (and he's imagined you'll desire). He's making call after call that is meant to ensure he's delivered every bit of information, intel, every purchase, every commission, that every order is put into motion, that every piece of the puzzle that'll ensure him, say, a perfect outcome to something he's envisioned or planned with his beloved is completed to his specific instructions; he's all movement, all enthusiasm, all euphoria, he's weaving schemes in advance like he just made the business deal of a lifetime. He's been at it since one in the morning. Now, it's two in the afternoon...the next day. Man hasn't slept in over twelve hours and nobody knows exactly where he seeps the energy or endurance from; but whatever the source, there seems to be an infinite abundance of it. He's all giddy, all smiles, all laughter and that's Terry Silver in love for you. The human incarnation of a happy pill.

Impossible to contain or calm down.

His butterflies are absolutely on steroids and hitting new highs, loudly flapping away hard enough to cause a windstorm in his gut that'll put a pep in his step like he's a child about to meet his most cherished playdate after being separated for merely a day for all we know, running on excess energy, forcing everyone around him to just try and keep up with his overall stamina and increasing demands --- and good luck with that one. Milos Dadok could be there, diligently almost running behind a long-legged Mr. Silver, carrying bouquets containing a hundred and one red roses because it's go big or go home at every hour of the day in this dojo, grimly and very seriously attempting to pace himself to his Boss' wide, eager strides as he hauls the flowers forward followed by a team of staff members marching where Terry wants and needs them to be. They're on a tight schedule here! They've an agenda! Man could be any age at any time and he'll behave like a school boy about to go a first dance.

So, not only can he be sensitive, he's...I mean, look at this beautiful face?

☝️I envision Terry Silver in love is like that 24 / 7.

It's everything or nothing with him.

Guy beams infectious, boyish, unspoiled happiness like a nuclear reactor and when he truly cares and it's written all over him, I feel. All over his body language. His face. His expression. His energy. His behavior. His deeds. All of it. There's no doubt in mind this guy's enamored because when he is, emotions are open and raw. Beloved walks into the room and he immediately has this triumphant, shit-eating full mega-watt smile with two rows of teeth entirely on display at the mere sight of them as he runs towards them and his whole face along with his eyes just laugh with him. He lights up. I wouldn't say it is nervousness in the classical sense because I don't feel he ascribes to feeling, cultivating or nurturing any emotion he might view as limiting to his ambitions (in this case, his ambitions being beloved's affection), but nonetheless, it is the type of love one cannot hide and definitely the manner of reaction everyone dreams and yearns to be greeted with. He's just overjoyed. If anything, Terry Silver's very courageous and even adorably overbearing with his butterflies.

He can be the sweetest person ever or a literal nightmare.

Best pray he doesn't see you as an enemy.

[host-club-hq]

Indeed: ~This... is Our Ouran Fair~

➼ pairing: kyoya ootori x reader

➼ summary: there's no easy way to say this... but you and tamaki seem to be leaving the host club for good. just like that, you're gone. that is, until a certain pair steps in and declares what they've been feeling all along...

➼ word count: 17.5k

➼ what to expect: "Not like this, y/n."

➼ warnings: heavy angst

➼ chapter navigation

➼ talk to my characters!

➼ thank you all for your support through this whole journey! there will be an announcement post after this at some point to express more thanks and announce some things :) please enjoy! i spent a long time thinking this chapter through

As your chest aches with dread, your feet carry you one step at a time. Just an hour or so after Tamaki's heartbreaking announcement, as you all needed time to collect yourselves after such devastation. 

But now, like the absolutely horrible person you are, you're about to drop another devastation on someone else. At least, you hope he'll be devastated. Wait, that came out the wrong way. You mean... you hope he'll miss you. 

You had even contemplated leaving without telling anyone. Sweeping it all under the carpet and hoping they don't look underneath. You then decided that it would be cruel, regardless of how you felt about it. 

Kyoya insisted that you make an appearance at his estate to tell him your news as you were all so rudely interrupted by Tamaki's world-changing announcement. You truly insisted that it wasn't a big deal and that you should both just return home and let Tamaki's news sink in. 

But that wouldn't suffice, of course. Kyoya wants- no, needs to hear what you have to say to him. And... as much as you hate to admit it, even to yourself, you agree. He needs to. 

So here you are, where you've been standing motionless for at least seven minutes, standing at Kyoya's estate's front door. You're having an internal battle, your expressions matching your thoughts. 

Just as you and your mind are arguing, Kyoya's sister strides along past the front door, spotting you in the window that outlines the door and peers outside. Fuyumi stops in her tracks, tilting her head curiously. Then, without another thought, she pulls open the door and greets you. 

You nearly scream, instead settling for a quiet gasp when she appears before you suddenly. She smiles nonetheless, "y/n, what are you doing out here? Are you here for Kyoya?" She opens the door just a bit more to reveal her body. 

Are you? Are you here for Kyoya? Should you just turn around and leave, apologizing for the inconvenience and act like nothing's happened? Like nothing's wrong? You should. You should go; you should go right now-

"I think so."

Fuyumi's brows crease. She steps aside despite her confusion, "Come on inside; I believe he's expecting you." She nods toward the entry hall of their estate.  

You really wish he wasn't expecting you. With all of your heart, you want this to be a dream, and you're only here to spend time with Kyoya in the comfort of his own home. But, unfortunately, you bear the burden of news to share. And this is only the first step. 

It's like you've never been here before. The walls suddenly feel like they're towering above you, and you feel so tiny under the vast ceilings. It's like the first time you ever stepped foot inside his estate- the fateful year of middle school when you met him. 

Fuyumi watches you carefully, taking note of your tensed frame as you step inside, glancing back and forth anxiously. 

"I'll go get him. Can I get you anything while you wait?"

Her offer startles you. You shake your head, "No, thank you. I'm alright."

Fuyumi can practically see the gears working in your head. She knows you've got something terribly strenuous on your mind. Only time will tell what that is. Maybe that's why you're here to see her baby brother.

"I'll go find Kyoya." You want to stop her. You want to reach out; don't. Leave me time to sprint out the door and back to my car, maybe to drive it off a cliff somewhere. 

This is how you know you should not be allowed behind a wheel until this entire ordeal is over... maybe you'll call your driver after this. 

Fuyumi returns shortly; your nerves spike, "He's in his room. He'd like you to come to him if you wouldn't mind." 

No. He should come to retrieve you. You can't trust yourself even to make it to his room. What if you manage to slip past Fuyumi and leave?

"Sure thing." You nod, offering her a smile as you clutch onto the strap of your purse, brushing past her in the direction of Kyoya's room. 

You've made it. You've made it to his door. It's, like, half of the first step of your process, but it's half. That's more than nothing. You're congratulating yourself on the little things for now. You're hoping that'll make things easier in the long run. 

You knock thrice, inhaling deeply and exhaling in the same manner. Finally, you hear his voice beckoning you inside. 

You do as you're told, twisting the door open and peeking inside to find Kyoya working away on his laptop. He glances up as you enter, shutting it instantly. 

"How are you feeling?" He inquires genuinely. 

The concern in his tone makes your heart pulse. You sigh, "I could be better. What about you?"

"Likewise. But... we don't have to talk about that right now. Come, sit." He makes space for you on his pristinely white sofa. 

And you do, sitting cautiously on the opposite side of the sofa, placing your purse beside you and chewing your lip. 

"What're you doing all the way over there?" Kyoya chuckles, patting a seat much closer to him. 

Please, don't do that. Your actions betray your mind, gently scooting closer to him and an acceptable distance.

"What is it that you wanted to tell me? Looked like it'd been bothering you all day." 

Kyoya vaguely notices that he's doing most of the talking... something very unusual for your dynamic. Something must genuinely be bothering you. Whatever it is, he hopes you trust him enough to let him console you. 

"Right, um..." You might bite off your lip from how hard you’re chewing it. 

"I don't really know how to start this conversation." You admit, at last, exhaling heavily. 

Kyoya nods, "That's alright; take your time." He assures. Although, at your hesitation, doubt is starting to envelop the deepest corners of his own mind. What could it possibly be that's making this so difficult for you?

You nod to yourself, eyes cast to the nearly blinding white of his sofa. You can't bear to look him in the eye, "My father... when he came to the fair today..."

Just at that, Kyoya scowls. His gaze darkens. Has he done something more to you? Have you come here seeking refuge from him? He urges you to continue wordlessly. 

"He made it quite clear that he still doesn't approve of my relationships with all of you... especially ours." You still can't encourage yourself to bring your eyes up to his. 

"Okay..." That's not a surprise at all. Kyoya's known for a long time that your father disapproves of the shenanigans that go on in Music Room #3. Honestly, he himself disapproves of them sometimes. His own father disapproves of them as well. 

"So... he called me today." 

Kyoya nods, creasing his brow, "What did he say?" 

A beat of deafening silence passes the both of you by. Just the thought of saying it out loud brings tears to your eyes, and you frown. 

"y/n, you can tell me. Whatever it is, I'm sure that-"

"I'm moving." 

That's not what he expected you to say. In fact, that's worse than what he expected you to say. He expected you to tell him that your father disapproves of your relationship and sent you here to end it. But, you would both find a way around it to see each other. That's what he was expecting you to tell him. 

Kyoya knows the answer to his question deeply in his soul, "... where are you moving?"

You lament your answer, brow creasing as your face contorts with the effort of holding back a cry, "London." 

That's about as far away from Japan as possible, but Kyoya suspects that's on purpose. His expression darkens. 

"When?" 

Nothing but a whisper, "Soon… really soon."

Now you and his best friend have abandoned him. Just like that, you both got up and left without another thought about it. 

"Isn't there any way you could-?"

"No," You choke, "My father made it very clear that it's absolute."

Kyoya knows... oh, how he knows it's not your fault. Of course, it's not yours, but he can't help the frustration that bubbles up inside his chest, and it takes everything within him to keep from exploding. 

"Well, what about your debt to the club?" 

Your eyes finally manage to land on his face, blinking with bewilderment, "My... debt?" You exhale breathily. The word almost feels foreign. 

Holding back each and every emotion that dares enter his body, Kyoya nods, keeping a straight, unfazed expression, "You still haven't paid it back, you know." 

You furrow your brows, "What does that have to do with anything?" You straighten a bit. Blinking, you wipe at budding tears. 

You don't recognize Kyoya from the way he's avoiding your gaze. You don't detect the warm, soft personality that he truly has underneath all of those layers of a cold, icy exterior. Instead, you're only met with his side profile. 

"You can't repay your debt if you leave, and you know what happens if you break our agreement." Kyoya adjusts his glasses, causing the glare from the light above to hide his tired, miserable eyes. 

He's grasping at straws. He's grasping at you. Maybe, if he can hold on to a little bit of pride, a little bit of hope... you might stay. You'll hate him. Oh, God, you'll probably hate him for the rest of your lives... but despite that heartbreaking fact, you'll still be here. 

"What?" You're completely and utterly rendered baffled in disbelief. Tell me you don't mean it. 

"You heard me." 

You flinch at his words, placing a hand over your heart. You had honestly thought he'd forgotten entirely about that wretched debt you owed him. Clearly not. You feel small enough to be that middle schooler sitting in the very same position years ago. You remember the horrible nightmares that moment gave you for months. You have a sinking feeling that they'll start up again for the same reason. 

"So if I leave... you're going to hold up your end of the agreement...? You're going to go to the media?" You gasp, grasping at your purse beside you. You need to hear it one more time. You need to hear it come from his mouth and reach your ears. 

"Of course. That's what happens when you don't hold up your end of the deal, isn't it?" Kyoya crosses his legs firmly, folding his hands atop his knees. 

"Aren't... aren't we past that?" You shift away from him. You don't feel familiar in his presence; you don't feel comfortable. You don't feel... safe. 

This isn't someone you know. This isn't the man that kissed you in that abandoned church in Karuizawa. This isn't the man whose arms you've spent countless nights in, simply enjoying his presence. This isn't the man that swept you off your feet and had you falling head over heels for years.

This is... the little boy who initiated this debt in the first place.

You stand to your feet, jaw grown slack and agape, glaring down at Kyoya on the sofa. 

"You're really threatening me? After all we've been through?!" You sputter. 

Kyoya's eyes narrow, challenging you with a growing fury in his irises.

You're really leaving me? After all we've been through?

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“And, y/n, I hope you intend to place that order for that tea our guests have requested?”

“Of course. I always do as you command, don’t I, Mr. Ootori?”

...

“Well, my appreciation is immeasurable, good sir.”

“Not to worry, my lady, the pleasure is all mine.”

...

“Ah, I see even a proper lady like yourself can’t resist the Hitachiin brothers.”

“No! Not at all… they’re just so…" “… sculpted.”

...

“Because Mommy was keeping a secret from Daddy.”

“Whatever. Why does everyone insist on referring to us like we’re husband and wife?”

...

“It is amusing to watch them question themselves, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, it is.”

...

“I wouldn’t have hit him that hard,”

“Well, I’m here to ensure you don’t hit him at all.”

...

“I think it’s about time I learn how to swim, huh? That might be a good idea…”

“A good idea indeed, y/n.”

...

“I just… I didn’t know who I could tell.”

“I’m here to listen.”

...

“When will the teasing ever end?”

“Probably never. You’ll never get rid of me.”

...

“You sound like a common servant.”

“… Is that any way to talk to the person with the knife?”

...

“Even so… I have just the slightest feeling that everything will work out just fine.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?”

...

“Do whatever you’d like; I don’t mind.”

“Ew, no. This Kyoya is far too chipper. We’ll talk when my Kyoya is back.”

...

“I miss her.”

“I know you do.”

...

“Come on, Kyoya. Please?”

“… there will be some conditions.”

...

“Not too far to stay away, hm?”

“Unfortunately not.” 

...

“You just kissed me.”

"I think I did."

...

“You go to all this trouble, acting like you’re a perfect twat when…” “When being a sweet guy is quite natural for you… it seems counterintuitive.”

“That’s a very intriguing notion in its own way…”

...

“Kyoya… would it be wrong to punch a child?” 

“Let’s not have any threats of child abuse on our hands.”

...

“Kyoya? B-but- the picture, you made me get rid of it, how did you-”

“I’ll explain that later, but right now, we have much more pressing matters to deal with.”

...

“You’re so full of yourself, you know?"

"It’s healthy to be a little full of yourself-“

...

"Hm, maybe these aren't applied correctly."

"Get your hands out of my mouth!"

...

"Here, hold this."

"A-are you just going to leave me with this?"

...

"Better?"

"Much."

...

"You would?"

"Of course, it would be my pleasure."

...

"Just trust me."

"Alright, I trust you."

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If you were to wipe a stray tear now, you fear you'll look weak. You can't risk that now. 

"S-so, let me get this straight. I either have to stay and ruin my father's career in London or leave and ruin my father's career as a whole. How the hell does that work, Kyoya?! It's a catch-22 situation; I suffer either way! Why do you want me to suffer?" You point to yourself with a certain desperation, leaving Kyoya's chest aching incredibly painfully. 

Kyoya isn't sure he can handle the conflict within himself. He wants to pull you in with an insatiable hunger, kiss your trembling lips, and tell you that everything's going to be alright. That the both of you will find a way. 

But... his passion is turning to fury so fast that he can't tell it was any other emotion before. He's angry with you for leaving, but he knows full well that it's ultimately no fault of yours... which makes him all the more enraged at your father for doing this to you. 

But most of all, he's angry with himself. Angry with himself for never telling you everything he wanted to. Angry with himself for making you cry like you are now. He never wants to be the cause of this expression across your features. Disbelief, hurt, and hatred. 

Nonetheless, you know the expression, 'blinded by anger.' 

Kyoya stands to tower over you, fingers curled into his palms as fists, "Why do you care what happens to him, anyway? He's a bastard to you." 

You gasp indignantly, "Kyoya, he is my father! He's family! I know he's trying, I-I know he loves me... he just has a difficult time showing it." You're not only trying your hardest to convince Kyoya at this point but yourself as well. 

Kyoya can sympathize. Strong emotions are challenging to express or show, especially when they overwhelm each sense to the point that you feel as though you're simply going to burst. 

You cross your arms, your following statement going straight for the jugular, "Not like it's anything you'd understand."

It hits the target's bullseye, and Kyoya knows precisely what you mean. You've been so patient with him, and that word that makes everything just so different. It's too much different. It's not like you've said it yourself yet... but it's so painfully obvious how you would fall to your knees at his command. 

And it hits his limit. He squints his eyes shut tightly with the sudden urge to hurl himself over the edge of a bottomless pit and fall until the end of time. At least, that's how he feels. 

"You have until the end of the fair to decide your fate." 

Your features soften from absolute indignation to pure astonishment. Your throat constricts so tightly that you fear you might suffocate right here in his room. And part of you wants to... pass out and have absolutely no recollection of any of the events that have transpired today. 

"I... I thought we were past this. I thought you'd forgotten!" You can't help that your words come out as a desperate cry. 

Clearly, you were wrong. 

"I thought you'd changed." Barely a whisper. And what's worse, you'd even begun to believe that it was your doing that changed him. 

And you did. You changed him so intensely. But when fight or flight kicks in, many flight tactics include regression: returning to a previous state. 

And Kyoya's previous state is a cold, icy wall that protects his heart from the oncoming attacks that may or may not be approaching. 

"... I think we need to rethink this relationship, Kyoya."

One lonely bullet pierces through feet of thick ice and hits the softest spot within Kyoya's being. He wants to yell, scream, cry out in anguish, but he can't bring himself to do anything more than stand motionless, speechless. 

It can't be this easy... to sever such a strong bond formed by patience and trust... to merely break it with one weak moment of selfishness.

Your words even manage to soften his expression, making his chest heave as if there isn't enough oxygen in the room. 

Hold me tight, don't let me go. Hold me safely in your arms so that I don't have to face reality. 

"... maybe we should, then." 

You feel your heart shatter so abruptly that you must physically step away from him, staggering backward as you stare in disbelief at his side profile. 

Don't do this. Call me on my bluff, don't let me walk out that door and regret it for the rest of my life. 

Walking through the door and around the corner wouldn't have been so hard if you hadn't spotted the lone tear sliding down his cheek. 

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Fuyumi nearly stumbles as you storm past her, an absolute river cascading from your eyes as you throw open the front door and disappear. She doesn't even have a chance to call out to you. 

She blinks disorientedly, glancing between where you disappeared and the direction of her brother's room. Then, as quietly as she can, she tiptoes down the hall and to his door, left ajar after your quick exit. She senses no movement inside, but Kyoya is definitely still there. The lack of life inside makes her anxious. 

"Kyoya...?" She pushes his door open slowly, cautiously, and finds him seated on his sofa, unmoving. He's facing the window behind him, his arm propped on the back of the sofa and his legs elevated up on the seat. The light from outside merely outlines his silhouette, but Fuyumi can sense the tension that lingers. 

"What happened? Where did y/n go?" Fuyumi glances back where you disappeared and takes a few more steps into the room. 

A few more strides closer, she notices stray tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, but his expression remains emotionless. She nearly gasps. 

"We broke up."

"Oh." Fuyumi lowers her voice. 

He moves a hand from the sofa to rub over his mouth and chin as if he were thinking about something, considering something. He blinks; more tears. Fuyumi sits beside him, peering over his shoulder as his back is to her. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" She knows the answer. But, patiently, she awaits his response. 

"No." It's soft, almost inaudible. 

Fuyumi nods to herself, "Do you want a hug?" 

Kyoya places his feet flat on the floor, turning to look back at her with a wrecked expression, "Yes."

Fuyumi wastes no time pulling him in for a tender embrace, first removing his glasses and placing them haphazardly elsewhere. One arm around his back and the other at the nape of his neck. Kyoya tightly shuts his eyes, his arms desperately clinging around her torso as he buries his tear-stained face into the junction between her shoulder and neck. 

After a few silent moments, Kyoya inhales profoundly and exhales in quiet, trembling, breathy sobs. His body shakes, and his chest heaves. Tears spill over Fuyumi's neck and slide down her back, dampening her blouse, but she couldn't care in the slightest. 

Fuyumi hushes him like she would a child, stroking through his hair comfortingly as he clings to her. He might be larger than her in a physical sense, but she'll always be there to hold him when he feels so incredibly small that he might disappear. 

They stay like that until they lose track of time. Kyoya never speaks a word; remains silent. Fuyumi can feel every unspoken word in every tear. 

She'll hold him as long as he wants.

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Arriving home feels less dreadful than it usually does. You've let all of your tears stream during the drive home, your cheeks now slightly red and your nose tinted the same color. You shut your front door behind you, immediately greeted by your father. 

"y/n, there you are. Set the table for dinner; I have a friend joining us tonight." 

You nod indifferently, "Yes, sir." Then, you hang your purse to unpack later and stride straight for the kitchen. 

"I said now- oh." Your father blinks confusedly as you breeze past him without complaint or refusal. He assumed he was going to have to fight you on this.  

He watches quietly as you gather plates, setting them at one end of the extensive dining table, "Just one friend?" You inquire quietly, setting a place for them beside your father's plate. 

"Yes..." He responds absently, observing skeptically as you move out seamlessly. 

"Why are you so obedient all of a sudden?" He asks bluntly, narrowing his eyes to you. 

"Aren't I supposed to be?" You seem to have forgone the will to argue with your father day in and day out. Instead, you formally arrange the silverware and elegantly folded napkins at each place setting. 

"You are..." But you're not usually. 

You finish fairly quickly, folding your hands in front of you and peering up at your father, "Do you need me for anything else?" 

This is the most servant-like you've ever acted since he started treating you like one. He feels entirely uncomfortable asking his own daughter for anything all of a sudden. 

"No, that's all. Just be on time for dinner." 

You nod, "I'll be in my room then." Stepping past him, you aim to disappear around the corner when your father takes a sudden interest in your attitude. 

"Did something happen with Ootori?" He can't think of any other explanation for your behavior. It was Ootori that made you the way that you are, caused you to be so often upbeat, and seems to have been the reason that you fought him every step of the way. 

Your feet come together, and you remain still in the hallway, back turned to your father and unmoving as you allow his question to ring deafeningly loudly in your ears. 

Barely moving a muscle, "I am no longer with Kyoya." Your tone is, somehow, stable when you inform him of the events that have just recently transpired. 

Your father nods, quickly realizing that you're not facing him, "I see." He furrows his brow, confirming his suspicions. He should feel elated that you have separated, but why does it weigh on his heart and make his chest ache so?

"Will that be all?" You repeat, eyes darting to the left in hopes of catching a glimpse of him without turning your head. 

"Yes, go on then."

"Yes, sir." 

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Pulling the sleeves of your simple black dress down to your wrists on your way to the dining room, you catch wind of two voices. One is unmistakably your father's... the other belongs to woman that you do not recognize. 

You lift your head, mentally-prepared polite smile erased completely as you gawk at your father's aforementioned friend joining the two of you for dinner. 

If you were to analyze her character thematically from looks alone, you would peg her as a strict primary school teacher that all of the students pretended to adore but truthfully loathed entirely. While conventionally attractive and relatively young-looking, she looks as though she can tame a hoard of rowdy teenagers with one stern glance. 

Her sleek, starkly black locks of hair are tied neatly and tightly into a bun. The color of her hair matches her modestly flattering dress. It seems as though you have all dressed for attending a funeral- only you seem to think that the theme is appropriate. 

By the way your father kisses her knuckles, your stomach lurches. He isn't known to flatter any lady with such a gesture. 

Something is going on. Who is this woman?

As if reading your thoughts, "y/n, this is Ito, Sara. You may call her Ms. Ito." 

"Or mother, if you prefer." Her voice is teasing, but you wouldn't dare laugh. Your father does, though.

Your breath hitches. At the thought of calling a woman by a term you hold so dear, your blood practically boils underneath your skin. You even begin to feel quite flushed. 

Although it may be hard to believe, this is the first time that your father has brought home a lady friend with whom he seems to be... romantically involved. If he ever has been involved with anyone after your mother died at all, he's never brought them home before, at least not while you've been home. 

"Hm." Sara's eyes rake over your stiff figure, arms crossed. When she approaches you, you cringe as she reaches out and tilts your chin up to meet her eyes with her long, gaunt fingers with short, clean fingernails. Her gaze bores into your very soul. Your jaw clenches visibly, the muscles working painfully hard as your feel entirely disgusted by her touch. Your posture straightens, and you fold your arms behind your back, gaze narrowing back just as maliciously. 

"Aren't you a cute little thing? Well-groomed, too." She tilts her head, and you catch a glimpse of the eyeliner that compliments her dark irises. She blinks once, twice, and straightens. You notice the handbag looped over her arm as she adjusts it. 

"You're a second year in high school?" She muses, looking for an answer. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Which school are you going to attend in London?" 

It takes you longer than you would like to answer, letting go of a breath stuck in your throat at the painful reminder. 

"I'm not sure yet, Ms. Ito."

Sara is quick to notice that you have chosen not to refer to her as your mother. She nearly grins. You clearly have some sort of unresolved attachment to your late parent. 

"And you attended Ouran Academy?"

Your father seems to have mentioned quite a few things to her about you. Odd... 

"Yes." You nod curtly. You feel as though you're being interviewed for a prestigious employment position. 

"And you are involved with an Ootori family member? You know, that's quite a feat. I hear they're difficult."

A huff of air through your nose, a gentle shake of your head, "We have recently split. I'm no longer involved with Kyoya Ootori." 

Sara pouts with an exaggerated, jut lip, "Oh, well, that's too bad. Must have been quite recent; your father and I were discussing you two just the other day!" 

Now you realize her aim. Her eyes are set on you, dragon-shaped with an intent to aggravate and tease. 

"Today, in fact. We split today." If you play her game, you'll let her know that you're not one to submit easily. 

"Oh, wow, you must be feeling a little down. But, you know you don't have to sit through a meal with us. You're more than welcome to... take your leave." Sara cocks a brow with crossed arms. 

Your eyes narrow into slits, and you move to cross your arms as well, "I'll be perfectly fine, but thank you for your concern." 

Sara touches her chest and turns to your father, "My, Daisuke, you have quite a daughter." 

A pulse in your chest; it's been quite some time since you've heard anyone call your father by his first name, especially in this type of context. 

"Thank you, Sara. She's lovely, indeed."

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Kyoya's eyes peel open slowly and disorientedly. He winces at the burn that comes shortly after, blinking rapidly with furrowed brows. He turns his head, noticing that he's lying on his side on his sofa. He glances out the window; darkness has fallen. He must've fallen asleep for quite some time. The sting behind his eyelids is painfully reminiscent of tears previously shed. 

A quiet trill draws Kyoya's attention to something behind his legs. When he cranes his neck to peer over, Noel's head pops out of thin air, yawning and stretching her paws over his bent calf. He cracks a smile as she leaps over his leg now that he's awake and crawls to nuzzle against his chest. 

"You took a nap, too, huh? When did you get here?" Kyoya muses to no one but Noel, smoothing a hand over her head and down her back as she purrs contently. 

Noel isn't a particularly vocal creature, only purring loudly and letting out trills when she wants or needs something. She only truly makes noise in the morning when she has not been fed. So, in response, Noel leans up into Kyoya's hand as he strokes her. She falls to her side and shuts her eyes, legs splaying out and head tilting back with bliss as Kyoya scratches the specific spot on her chest that seems to be her favorite. 

"You're being sweet right now, aren't you? No urge to bite or scratch me?" More often than not, when Noel lies on her back, if Kyoya strokes her stomach for too long, she'll wrap both paws around his wrist and kick at the palm of his hand, sinking her teeth into his skin. He never takes it to heart, gently prying her off and settling for petting her head instead. 

Though Noel seems too tired to play right now, purring as Kyoya strokes along her stomach. When he stops, she wriggles and opens her eyes, silently imploring him to continue. 

"Did you find me sleeping here? You know something's wrong, huh?" Kyoya chuckles, lips tugging in a sad sort of smile when Noel stretches tiredly. Shortly after you'd given him Noel, Kyoya did his fair share of research into the mind of female cats and also determined her breed- it seems as though she is a black Bombay kitten, Kyoya deducted from the criteria he was provided with. He also fell into the rabbit hole of research about how most pets know when something is wrong or when you are sick. 

The notion of you erases the smile from his lips. He groans to himself, allowing his head to fall back onto the sofa with a thud. He slithers an arm around his face and lets out a trembling sigh, peeling his glasses from the bridge of his nose and tossing them haphazardly elsewhere. 

Noel's purring rises in volume when she nudges his arm with her face, insisting that he make room for her. She happily takes the place of his arm, licking her paws and cleaning behind her ears. 

"I think it's time for bed, my love. Come on." Kyoya hoists himself into a standing position, rubbing a hand over his eyes where his glasses should sit. He leaves them wherever they may be for now. He doesn't know the time; his body just knows that it would like to go to sleep now. Noel is quick to follow at his beckoning, nudging her body against his shin and nearly tripping him as he makes his way to his bathroom. 

"You're gonna kill me one day, you know that?" Kyoya mumbles, reaching to open his medicine cabinet. 

The first thing that catches his gaze is bright pink. The feminine products he stocked in the cabinet for you. And restocked. 

And there's your spare toothbrush, sitting in the cup with his own, the bristles protected by a hygienic cover because you couldn't stand the thought of your toothbrush even grazing his own, despite the fact that his lips have done more than grazed yours on multiple occasions. 

Instinctively, he opens a drawer near his hip: hair ties, a portable brush, and a travel-size vial of your signature scent. 

Another drawer: cleanser, cotton pads, makeup wipes. 

Gently, he shuts them both. Nothing inside is disturbed nor dwelt upon for too long. That is until he realizes he's failed to take down the polaroid of you taped to the bottom of his mirror. Without thinking, Kyoya plucks the picture off the mirror with ease, taking a closer, longing look at it. 

It was taken after a particularly long night at one of his family's formal parties. Of course, just like any other event, you were on his arm the entire evening, charming the guests without giving it a second thought. Although this party seemed to carry on a bit too long for either of your liking, so you retired to Kyoya's room while the party was still in full swing. 

In this particular photo, you're sitting on his sofa, one strap of your black, flattering dress hanging off your shoulder, and you're bent down to strip off a heel. You're looking at the camera with squinted eyes and a tired expression. 

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"No, no! Stop!" You pathetically whine, lunging for Kyoya as he lifts the drying polaroid out of your reach once again. 

"Be careful; it's still developing." Kyoya teasingly warns, easily shoving you away. Gently, of course. 

"Well, I don't want it to develop. Give it here!" You tiredly lunge once more, trying and failing miserably to gain possession of the photo. 

You groan, "I'm too tired to fight you." Finally, you allow your body to lay on his sofa, fully outstretched, with a sigh. 

"Good. It's going on my mirror." Kyoya tucks the photo in a secure spot. You wave him off lazily. 

"Yeah, yeah." Your eyes slip shut, almost moaning at the relief you feel to rest your body on the cushion below you. 

A shadow casts over your eyes. You peel one open tiredly, finding Kyoya hovering above you, arms caging you in with a cheeky grin spread across his lips. You crack one of your own. 

"What're you doing?" You snort less than gracefully, nose scrunching at his proximity. 

"Lying down on my couch." Kyoya lets his weight drop and buries his face beside you, his hair brushing your cheek as you gasp dramatically. 

"You're crushing me!" You weakly shove at his limp body. Kyoya hums contently, "This is very comfortable; I could definitely sleep right here on this couch." 

"This sofa will gobble you up if you don't get off it." You turn your head and nibble on Kyoya's earlobe for emphasis. 

"Ow! That was uncalled for." Kyoya lifts his upper body and cradles his poor, abused ear. 

A brief moment of silence. 

"I should have never given you that polaroid camera."

"That is your bad." 

"Mm, my bad." Your fingers rake through his neatly combed locks with an aura of comfort, mussing them up, but Kyoya couldn't care in the slightest as he rests his head near your collarbone, just on your chest. As he adjusts his position, his glasses slightly dig into your skin, and just as he's about to take them off-

"Oh, let me get those." You take the arm of his glasses and slide them from his temples and the bridge of his nose. A shiver runs down his spine as he glances up at his glasses that you set on the table. He lets his head rest without restraint and sighs heavily. 

This is a type of comfort that Kyoya never realized he could find in another human being. He closes his eyes and breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. 

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That comfort has been cruelly torn away from him by the hand of his own selfish actions. 

A heavy sigh, a pang in his chest, Kyoya lets the picture gently fall into an open drawer with your belongings and shuts it tightly. 

A dreamless sleep is what Kyoya wishes he fell into when his head hit his pillow. Not a night filled with images of you flitting to and fro across his eyelids. 

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~School fair day 2 -- main fair~

After a dreadful night's sleep for each member of the Host Club, the central salon is buzzing with activity as the Club is open for business to the general public for the second day in a row, despite how they might feel. 

As composed and neatly put together as ever, Kyoya sets down a teacup before Lady Éclair with a smile, "Welcome, Miss."

"I know you. You're one of the Ootori family's sons, aren't you? Unfortunately, you're the third son, so you can never be the family's successor." Éclair peers at Kyoya's stiff appearance through her theater binoculars. An outrightly unpleasant thing to say, but Kyoya expects nothing less from an unpleasant woman. 

Deflecting her comment, "What can I do for you today, mademoiselle?"

A brief moment of silence passes before Éclair lowers her binoculars and tilts her head, "You can tell me how much Haruhi Fujioka is still in debt with the Host Club." 

Not even Kyoya can hide the fact that the irrelevant and strange inquiry catches him off guard. 

"Haruhi." At the beckon of her name, Haruhi turns Kyoya's way. 

"Someone to see you." And as Kyoya strides away to busy himself elsewhere, Haruhi finds herself wondering what exactly is running through his mind. It's clear as day, well, to Haruhi, that something seems to be amiss, other than the devastating news that the entire club had received just yesterday evening. 

Despite fighting with yourself, you've managed to show up to the last day of the Ouran Fair and make yourself useful. You had seriously considered not making an appearance and leaving Japan without a second thought. But, you thought it would be unfair to the rest of the Hosts, seeing as your job keeps their time free to busy themselves with guests rather than your work. 

Of course, you thought about how your interactions with Kyoya would go today. You simply plan to avoid him altogether. As petty as that may sound, you genuinely believe that it is the best solution at the moment. 

You mindlessly push your cart slotted with two trays of sweets and beverages for any guest who happens to stumble upon you and ask for either. 

"I wonder what happened to Tama-chan." Honey whines dejectedly as the Hosts have gathered into a small huddle. 

"I'm getting worried; something's up with him after what he said yesterday." Hikaru declares, hand propped on his hip with a scowl. 

You stop so abruptly that you nearly lurch over the handle of your cart.

"As of today, Lady Éclair Tonnerre and I are officially engaged. Furthermore, the Host Club will be permanently dissolved after the Ouran Fair."

It seems that the unpleasant memory has resurfaced for each host at Hikaru's words. 

Two claps and an encouraging voice, "Alright, gentlemen, no more idle chatter. Our guests are waiting for us." 

"Senpai, it's like you don't even care," Kaoru whines adamantly. 

Little do they know, Kyoya has become quite adept in using distractions to conceal underlying emotions- no matter how strong they may be. Years of training are to thank for that. 

"It's our job to take care of our guests to the best of our abilities." Kyoya adjusts his glasses with his pointer finger, "Remember, they're looking to all of us to entertain them. Their happiness is of the utmost importance."

The twins grumble, refusing to meet Kyoya's eyes. Then, honey takes action of his own, "He's right, Kao-chan!" He lunges into Kaoru's back and effectively pushes him away from the huddle. 

"Honey-Senpai, what're you doing?!" 

Mori wraps a crushing arm around Hikaru and drags him in the same direction, "C'mon, Hikaru." He orders in a gruff voice. 

"Let go, Mori-Senpai!" Hikaru strangles. 

As Kyoya turns, he merely catches your back as you lean forward and use your weight to kick-start the wheels of your cart, trodding off in a different direction. 

Kyoya feels the weight of the burden he bears. The weight of knowing such information that he is certain would devastate his friends if they knew. But none would feel the pain that he feels. None would feel the sense of longing and regret that his body contains. It wouldn't be possible, he believes. Yet, Kyoya knows something they don't, and it makes him feel as though he's hurting them all. 

He wonders if they can tell. He wonders if they can sense your despair as strongly as he can as it hangs in the air like something tangible. He wonders if they can see easily through his facade and are sparing his feelings. 

~This... Is our Ouran Fair~

As you slide a fresh teacup and saucer onto a guest's table, the sound of prominent footfalls catches your attention and you glance toward the offending noise. 

With his back turned, Kyoya's father and a colleague pass him by. Kyoya's eyes slide to the right to catch as much visibility of his father as he can. However, while the colleague bows to Kyoya, his father does not imitate the gesture. Rather, he stops just short of passing his son. 

"When they're young, many assume they have all the time in the world but really that is never the case. Don't waste your time with something that will ultimately have no value."

Shoving your cart out of your way, you huff angrily and audibly. Close enough to the pair to merely step across the aisle to reach them; you call out before your mind can catch up with your running mouth. 

Just because you split with Kyoya doesn't mean that you're heartless. 

"You don't get to decide what has value to someone else."

Yoshio stops once more in a similar fashion to moments earlier. He does not face you, but you know that he is listening. 

"You may be powerful, but you don't control human beings. Not even your own son." Your voice is filled with frustration built up over the past several hours as your body nearly trembles with rage. Nonetheless, you keep yourself in check. 

"And if entertaining others gives him and others fulfillment, what does that matter? Have you even thought of that? How could you possibly decide for someone you know next to nothing about?"

Craning his neck without turning his body, Kyoya's wide-set eyes land on your tense, indignant posture. 

"It doesn't matter what you say; I think your son has the potential to bend anyone to his will. But he doesn't want to. That's what sets you and him apart. That's what makes him better." 

As Yoshio and his colleague begin their path once more, Yoshio mutters, "I'm surprised that such insolence ever won Kyoya over." 

Your gaze is trained on Yoshio's retreating back; every muscle strained not to meet Kyoya's eyes that are staring straight into your side profile. 

At your side, Haruhi lets a few beats of stunned silence pass before she gently reaches toward you, "y/n-Senpai-"

And for the first time in all the length you've known her, you turn sharply from Haruhi without sparing her a glance or a word, resuming your duties as you whisk away from her side. 

Your silence cements the notion in Haruhi's mind- something has transpired that she has no knowledge of. But clearly, something dreadful. 

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Sliding on a coat, you ensure that your cart is safely out of the way of guests passing by and that the refreshments are handed out entirely. You straighten the sleeves and sigh, dusting yourself off as you spin on your heel and stride over to the first host that you find. 

Rather, the first host that finds you. Mori's towering figure stops you effectively in your tracks. Your head tilts back to meet his concerned gaze. He says nothing but has obviously taken note of your changed attire. 

With a deep intake of air, "There are some things that I want to tell you, but I don't have the heart. I hope you'll forgive me." His intimidating gaze nearly pricks tears in your waterline. 

Soundlessly, you know that Mori understands your intentions on a certain deep level. He hums, nods, and turns to reveal Honey standing directly behind him. 

"y/n-chan? Are you okay?" His eyes are wide-set and glistening with furrowed brows, gripping Usa-chan with confusion washing over his parted lips. 

You bend at the hips and place two hands over his shoulders, "Will you save me a seat next to you and Usa-chan for the parade?" 

You don't exactly know why you've asked that of him. But your heart pulses when he nods excitedly. 

"Of course! Usa-chan would love to sit with you! But... where are you going?" Honey innocently wonders why you won't be able to reserve your seat yourself. 

"I just have to check on something, alright?" Then, with a maternal hand, you stroke over his cheek and stand to your feet. 

You can't bear to look at his questioning eyes any longer. You turn more abruptly than you intend and pull your coat tight to you. 

At the door, you're stopped by none other than two identical gingers. You wince. 

"Senpai, where are you going?" Kaoru inquires casually, Hikaru arriving shortly at his side. 

"I just have to step out for a moment." Your throat strains with a searing pain. 

Hikaru shrugs, "Alright, but be back soon. We have your outfit prepared for you, and it'll take a while to get you into it." He simpers mischievously. 

You turn to look at them through glassy eyes. Finally, you manage a fond smile at their antics, "Okay." 

You're sure that you would have loved whatever strenuous pieces of clothing they have personally prepared for you. You hope they won't hold it against you. 

As they saunter off, you take one last longing glance at the grand central salon before sliding through the door and shutting it gently behind you. 

You expect your father has prepared you a ride to the airport as you scurry down the steps, holding your coat close to you for comfort. But when you lift your head, you're met with a red convertible. And standing just outside with an open door is Tamaki, dressed in a white suit. 

You merely stand gawking at him a moment before he gently smiles. 

"Where have you been?" You demand immediately. 

Tamaki chuckles, "Our fathers spoke. Your father asked if we would give you a ride to the airport." 

"You're going to the airport?" You lean slightly to the side and spot Éclair sitting on the far side of the vehicle, binoculars pressed to her eyes as she remains focused on her line of sight straight ahead. She spares you no acknowledgment. 

"I could ask the same of you." Tamaki teases. Though his tone of voice is playful, his expression conveys a solemn despair that you feel you mirror yourself. 

Your shoulders droop with a certain aura of anguish, "You're leaving too, aren't you?"

"To France. I... hear you're moving to London?"

Your resolve finally crumbles, leaping off the steps and into Tamaki's awaiting arms. You grip the back of his blazer, face buried in his chest with a heaving cry. 

"My darling, we're going to be alright." He whispers gently, stroking over the back of your head in a comforting motion. 

He pries you away by your shoulders at a close length, "I believe it's a sign that you and I are taking this journey together." He assures with a firm gaze. 

"But we won't be together." You sniffle, watering eyes meeting his violet irises. 

"You and me? We'll always be together, don't you worry." He jests, gently tapping under your chin affectionately. 

"Will you visit me? We'll be so close, Tamaki; we're just a two-hour train ride apart. I-I'll come see you every weekend, and we-"

He quickly brings your head back to his chest with his hand, resulting in your muffled silence and arms around his torso. You hiccup. 

Tamaki whispers quietly into your hair, away from Éclair's prying ears, "Do you trust me?" 

You nod into his suit with a pathetic "Mhm."

"Then this isn't the last time that you and I will meet. I promise."

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The King of the Host Club, which remains intact for only a few more hours, has failed to arrive for the Ouran Fair. A certain errand girl is missing as well. 

Kyoya stands solemnly by the window, glasses creating a glare as he urgently presses his cell phone to his ear. He knows that no one on the other line is there to answer, but he persists. 

"Kyoya-Senpai, what's with the outfit?" Haruhi grumbles from underneath layers upon layers of victorian-era women's clothing. Kyoya turns silently to her. 

"We told you, it's a costume for the special parade." Hikaru scoffs as a reminder. 

"You look so cute, Haru-chan!" Honey giggles excitedly. 

"I don't understand. Why am I the only person dressed as a girl? Where's Senpai?" 

"Aw, c'mon, it's cosplay, so it's okay for you to dress like a girl." Hikaru teases, leaning into Haruhi's space with a wagging finger and a grin. 

"I am one, you know." She huffs. Hikaru chortles maliciously. 

Kaoru's expression is less than amused, turning to Kyoya who's been trying Tamaki's cellphone for some time now. 

"Well?" 

"No luck. He's not there." Kyoya sighs, shutting his cell phone with a snap! and a frown. The rest of the Club tunes into the conversation. 

"I can't believe... they didn't show." Haruhi hands her head dejectedly. 

"I really thought Tamaki-Senpai was gonna make it despite what she said... but that doesn't explain why y/n-Senpai isn't here. Did she even leave?" 

"She left to get something... she said she would be right back," Hikaru recalls, his tone filled with exasperation. 

"I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t show." Kyoya's voice rings out unexpectedly, even to himself. 

"Senpai?" Haruhi echoes with utter confusion written across her features. 

"What do you mean, Kyo-chan?" Honey pries insistently, urging him almost desperately to continue. 

Without meeting a single one of their gazes, Kyoya shoves his cell phone into his pocket. 

"y/n and I ended our relationship yesterday." 

"What?!"

"Are you kidding?!"

"Senpai, how the hell did that happen?!" 

"Why would you go and do that?!" 

At the last of the varied exclamations, Kyoya scoffs, "It wasn't any choice of mine. She threatened to violate the terms of her debt and when I told her that it was unacceptable, she broke it off." 

Most of that is far from the truth and Kyoya knows it. 

"Now I know that's not true. y/n-Senpai would never do something that shallow." Haruhi defiantly bores her gaze into Kyoya's. 

In every sense, Haruhi is completely correct. 

"Yeah, Senpai, what really happened?" Kaoru pries further, also not entirely convinced. 

"Fine. You want to know what really happened?" Losing control of his tone steadily, "y/n informed me that she's moving to London by the end of the fair, and since that is in violation of our contract, I enforced her terms, and evidently she was unhappy with that result; therefore she ended our relationship."

Stunned gasps echo gently at his revelation. 

"She said she was going to be right back! Are you kidding me?!" Hikaru's fists clench, eyes trained intently on the floor as he recalls his earlier conversation with you. You lied to them, straight to their faces. 

"She said she was going away for a little bit..." Finally, realization sets in behind Honey's wide eyes. 

"She told you?" Haruhi inquires urgently. 

"She didn't tell me anything!" Honey cries. Mori steadies a hand on his shoulder. 

Hikaru buries his face in his hands, "Not like this, y/n." He gently sighs. Kaoru slides an arm around his shoulder and steadies the other on his upper arm. 

"So she's already gone? Why didn't she tell us, Kyoya-Senpai?" Haruhi glances to Kyoya for answers that he doesn't have. 

“She could still be coming back. To tell us goodbye." Hikaru insists. He knows you would never leave them without a goodbye. Never in a million years. 

In the beat of painful silence that passes, Kyoya wrenches his phone from his pocket and dials a number that he knows will get him an answer to the absence of his best friend. He worries that he might have taken the same path as you with each passing second. He turns to the window as the phone rings. 

The telltale sound of the receiver being picked up causes him to be the first to speak, "Hello, Shima? Been a while, hasn't it? It's Kyoya." 

"This is about Master Tamaki, isn't it? I'm sorry, Kyoya, but the Master will be departing for France soon."

Kyoya's eyes fly open, and he stumbles toward the window. 

"I tried to talk him out of it, but he said the Suoh family had forgiven his beloved mother and that he was finally going to see her again. He also said that if he stayed at Ouran any longer, his capriciousness would only continue to make trouble for you and everyone else in the club. I believe he is also accompanied by your partner, Miss l/n. She mentioned that she wouldn't like to burden anyone else with her absence and decided to leave it at that."

You warned Kyoya about saying things like that to Tamaki. On some level, he knew then of his mistake. 

"How could they be so stupid?!" Kyoya growls, gaining the attention of the hosts. 

Pulling the phone from his ear, "Evidently, Tamaki is planning to return to France. y/n is joining him on his way." 

Blow after blow to the hosts, they each cry out indignantly. 

"They're both leaving us?!" Honey sharply inhales. 

"We just can't let it end so suddenly!" Hikaru becomes enraged once more at the thought of everything falling apart. 

"Hikaru." Kaoru consoles gently. 

"Excuse me, sir." Shima quickly gains Kyoya's attention. 

"Yes?" 

"I was just thinking. If the Master's mother really is as remarkable a woman as he claims she is, then I can only imagine that she would be upset with the manner in which the Master has chosen to leave Ouran Academy. And... I can't imagine why you've chosen to let Miss l/n leave so easily like this."

"Do you know when they're leaving, Shima?" Kyoya presses imperatively, leaning even closer to the window. 

"I'm afraid their flights are this evening."

"Why are they leaving so soon?" Kyoya gapes with a tone of desperation. 

"Master Tamaki would have left sooner, but he said he had to wait until the Ouran Fair was ending."

Just as she speaks, a red convertible dashes by on the road below the very window that Kyoya stands at. 

He gasps, "y/n!" 

At his exclamation, the Hosts rush to the window and press themselves against it. 

"Tama-chan!" 

"y/n-Senpai!" 

"No way!" Kaoru presses his hands on the window pane with a whimper. 

"The Ouran Fair isn't even over yet!" Hikaru shouts. 

Haruhi remains seated in her chair, hands poised elegantly in her lap as her eyes continue to bore into the table before her, seemingly shell-shocked. 

"My family's car should be in the parking lot!" 

"Haruhi, let's go!" 

Only then does Haruhi raise her head.

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As the sun sets behind the clouds, the Host club sprints across the parking lot of the Academy, aiming for Kyoya's family car, where his driver sits, awaiting their arrival. 

Kyoya bends to his window, "We're in a hurry. Can you drive us?" 

"I'm sorry, sir, but..." 

Both hands gripping the vehicle, Kyoya urges his driver to spit out whatever he's got to say, "What is it? What's wrong?" 

"Well, you see, the thing is..." 

As he speaks, the members of Kyoya's private police force filter in through the cars surrounding them, silent as they approach cautiously. 

Feeling irked to no end, "You want to tell me your orders? Let me guess; you've been hired to protect Lady Éclair."

Through a protective mask, "I'm truly sorry it has come to this, but as you know, as members of the Ootori private police, we answer to your father." 

Hikaru and Kaoru face the officers with caution, barring themselves around Haruhi without thinking twice. 

Brow twitching and face contorting into a grimace, Kyoya's bottled fury releases with a sudden burst of strength. He brings his fist down onto the hood of his family's car and leaves a significant dent and a loud, echoing bang!

"Damn it!" 

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but we've been ordered not to allow any of you to leave, even if we have to stop you by force." 

Conveniently, the two martial arts masters are missing. 

But it isn't long before the Host Club can hear the sound of hoofbeats and rolling wheels, a carriage bursting through the tight ring of officers, carrying none other than Honey and Mori at the reins. 

Honey leaps from within the carriage, and the police force wastes no time in recognizing who exactly they're dealing with. 

"Hikaru, take the carriage. If you use the back hills bypass, you can cut them off." Mori directs in one breath, joining Honey's side, much to the horror of The Ootori Private Police Force. 

"It's Haninozuka!" 

"And Morinozuka!" 

Hikaru and Kaoru are the first to mount the carriage. Kaoru reaches for Haruhi, "C'mon!" 

Although hesitant, Kyoya grabs her tightly by the shoulders and gently nudges her forward. 

"Haruhi, go get those idiots. Hurry." 

Just as she leaves his grasp, Haruhi uses her last few remaining moments and grabs Kyoya by the lining of his jacket, pulling him along with her. 

"Senpai- if we don't succeed, you may never see y/n-Senpai again. You need to fix this yourself; you have to stop hiding from the pain even if your efforts are in vain."

Gripping her shoulders with renewed vigor, Kyoya's fingers tremble. Then, with one last urge, Haruhi yanks him forward by his coat and he stumbles onto the carriage as Hikaru flicks the reins.

"Hah!" 

With a talented driver behind the reins, the horses pick up their speed and dash straight through another group of police officers. They barely leap out of their way in time.

"Don't just stand there! Stop that carriage!" The officer giving orders is knocked to the ground as Honey uses his helmet to leap across the pavement and block the path left by the retreating carriage.

Kyoya steadies himself in the wagon, gripping the edges as Hikaru continues to urge the horses to their top speed. 

He decides in that moment that if you're going to leave, he's not letting go without a fight. 

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Sunlight filters through the rapidly passing trees as Kyoya, Haruhi, and the twins press on in their strangely chosen mode of transport. 

The horses are approaching a dangerous speed, but Hikaru continues to urge them on. 

"Hikaru! Don't you think we should slow down? Somebody could get hurt!" Kaoru exclaims as the carriage jostles them; both Kyoya and himself are prioritizing Haruhi's safety. 

"We're not slowing down till we get y/n and the boss back!" 

"But Hikaru-!" 

"If it wasn't for y/n, then the two of us would still only be lost souls. We were able to become friends with Haruhi and the others because the Host Club brought us together. To think that all of it could end so suddenly like this..."

Hikaru grimaces, "... is something that I can't tolerate!!" 

A crash is heard below them and suddenly the carriage is lifted into the air. The horses stumble mid-air, and both Kyoya and Kaoru leap to grip the sides of the carriage and hold the three of them steady, eyes squeezing shut.

With no one to steady him, Hikaru's body is hurled from the carriage and into a nearby pumpkin patch. He hits the ground with a pained yelp as the horses whinny in surprise and halt immediately at the sudden upheaval. The carriage hits the ground loudly and comes to a screeching halt. 

"No, Hikaru! Hikaru! Hikaru!" Kaoru leaps from the carriage and rushes to his brother's aid, falling to his knees and heaving Hikaru's body into his lap with all the strength he can muster. 

"Hikaru, are you okay? Is your arm hurting you?" 

The sun continues to set behind the trees, and only the clock tower is visible over the horizon. Both Haruhi and Kyoya observe the twins as they come together. 

"This can't be the end." Hikaru's voice comes out with a struggle, leaning into his brother. 

"It's just not fair; the Host Club's the only thing that made us happy. Damn it..." 

"Hikaru..."

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"Where are you going?" 

You turn at Kyoya's groggy voice, rubbing his eyes as he sits up and lets the blanket fall from his chest. He looks so adorably sleepy that you almost laugh. 

"To the washroom. Is that alright?" You suppress a snicker with a teasing tone. 

It's well into the early hours of the morning, and Kyoya is roused from his sleep by the sudden loss of warmth in his arms. You'd decided that you would spend the night with Kyoya after a particularly rough day. 

"You can't just leave me so suddenly." 

You snicker, "I'll always come back, you know." You peek at him from the doorframe now, slowly inching away. 

"Well, next time, I'll just have to come chasing after you, won't I?" 

"I would be worried if you didn't." 

Kyoya cracks a smile at your own, listening to your laughter as you disappear into his bathroom.

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Kyoya hasn't noticed that Haruhi's cosplay wig and overcoat have come off as she pulls him back into the carriage and out of his deep train of thought. 

"Kyoya-Senpai..." He glances at her, "We have to go."

With a determined nod, Kyoya picks up the reins. 

You were right- he never knew he'd need to know how to drive horses until this very moment. It's a damn good thing he picked up a thing or two in the past two days.

"Hah!" With a shout, the horses pick up their feet again and are speeding off with only two remaining passengers. 

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"What's the matter, Tamaki? You haven't said a word since we left. You're a host, aren't you? C'mon, entertain me." Éclair urges with a sultry plea, her binoculars boring into Tamaki's solemn expression. 

"I have a question. Are you sure about this? Will you even be happy married to me, or are you just... following orders?"

The hoofbeats against the ground are no match for the pounding of Kyoya's heart in his ears. The sound is deafening as they rapidly approach the bypass that overlooks the bridge they anticipate you and Tamaki to be driving on. 

"Look!" Haruhi points to a moving figure between the trees. Surely enough, a red convertible drives along below them. 

Desperate to match your speed, Kyoya flicks the reins with another shout, "Yah!" 

Your chin is propped up on your fist as you stare over the side of the bridge, watching the water glisten with the last dwindling glints of daylight. 

The bypass is slowly narrowing, and both Haruhi and Kyoya know that it's coming to an end soon. Kyoya demands the horses continue, resulting in the pair of steeds leaping into the air to avoid falling. Kyoya feels his stomach drop as the horses leap off the ledge and onto the paved road, surely giving the wheels a scare. 

The sound can be heard for near miles and certainly doesn't go unnoticed by you all in the vehicle. Upon hearing the loudest crack! you think you've ever heard; you turn your head in curiosity to glance at the road behind you to see what the trouble is. 

You honestly believe your mind is playing tricks on you when you spot a horse-drawn carriage catching up to your vehicle. When you spot the two passengers inside, you nudge Tamaki urgently. 

"Kyoya! Haruhi!" You call out, twisting your entire body to face them in complete and utter bewilderment. 

With windswept hair and furrowed brows, Kyoya's eyes meet yours briefly, and the only thought that enters your mind is how much he resembles a knight in shining armor, arriving to save his damsel in distress. Kyoya shouts again; the horses match your convertible's speed. 

"What are you doing?! This is dangerous! Stop that carriage now!" Tamaki shouts as the carriage arrives alongside the car with miraculous strength. 

"Guys! Please come back to Ouran!" 

"Slow down!" You scream over the rushing wind and beating of your heart, leaning over the back of the convertible for the pair to hear your pleas. 

"All of us would be completely lost without you guys." Haruhi urges, ignoring your commands. 

Tamaki frowns, shrinking in on himself, "But they... they all said they were put out by the Host Club." 

"You really are an idiot! What's wrong with you?!" Haruhi all but growls in response, completely fed up with Tamaki's obliviousness to his surroundings. 

"After all this time we've been together... you still can't tell when we're joking and when we're serious?! Everyone loves being in the Host Club... we really do! Even me, Senpai! I love being part of the Host Club too!"

Tamaki's eyes become vacant as Haruhi reaches to him with an outstretched hand and fond smile. 

In the moment of desperation when you catch the carriage's nature of instability, you lean over the car door, "Kyoya, stop the carriage! This isn't safe!" 

"I'm not stopping until you do!" Kyoya grips the reins tightly, his voice rising in urgency and volume over the noise of the carriage and galloping horses. 

"You're being ridiculous!" 

"That's rich, coming from you!" He barks back in response. 

"I thought I had a debt to repay; what happened to that?" You shout, tears brimming your waterline as you bang your fist onto the door of the convertible. 

"No, you don't! I don't know why I threatened you with that stupid debt in the first place! I... I didn't know how else to keep you here, but I know it was selfish and wrong. I see that now... I don't ask for your forgiveness because I don't deserve it, but I ask you to stay!" 

The passion and desperation in Kyoya's voice feel utterly foreign to you. You stumble over your thoughts to gather them as well as your words. 

"I... I thought you didn't care." Your voice barely reaches Kyoya's ears, but when it does, he cries out indignantly, more so with agony rather than irritation.

"Are you so dense that you don't know how much I feel for you?! I've never felt this way toward someone, and you- you just got up and left!" 

The visible confusion on your face ignites an inevitable distress within Kyoya that his point is completely missing its mark. 

"I-... I'm in love with you!" 

Your head lifts to meet his gaze, eyes open wide in disbelief, and you stand to full height in the car without a second thought. The speed at which you straighten jostles you, and you nearly fall back into your seat. Kyoya flinches, arm briefly reaching out for you in concern as he grips the reins in his remaining hand. 

Just the mere sound of Kyoya's voice declaring those words feels like you've reached home. And all at once, your heart drops as you realize you've made the worst mistake of your life. 

You lean forward as Tamaki reaches out toward Haruhi. Just as he does, a hand grabs his arm and tries to pull him back down. Tamaki glances down at Éclair for a moment. Her blindingly blue irises plead with him jealously. 

If Kyoya could pinpoint his mistake, it would be letting go of one of the reins. The horses knock shoulders violently, jostling the carriage enough for Haruhi to fall into Kyoya's arms. 

They each know what is inevitably coming as they glance at each other, Haruhi squeezing Kyoya's coat in her fingers for dear life. Kyoya acts too quickly for his mind to catch up as he sweeps his arm under Haruhi's legs and hoists her into his arms bridal style. 

"Tamaki!" He exclaims, managing to gain Tamaki's attention for merely a split second before he prays to whatever god is listening and hurls Haruhi's lightweight body with all of his gathered strength toward her savior. 

"Haruhi!" Tamaki screams, lurching over the side of the convertible and catching her easily, pulling her into the safety of the vehicle and cradling her head against his shoulder with a firm grasp. 

The carriage scrapes along the parapet of the bridge with a deafening screech, and Kyoya is flung toward the edge, barely able to stand on his own feet. 

"Oh my God, Kyoya!!" You shriek, watching as his balance is lost. 

Eyes swimming with panic and terror, Kyoya's gaze meets yours as he's thrown from the carriage and over the side of the bridge, reaching for something, anything that might save him from his fate. 

Risks be damned, you don't spare the couple behind you a glance before you hoist yourself onto the side of the vehicle, managing to steady yourself before lunging over to the now mostly steady, still moving carriage. Your foot barely meets the wagon's floor before you're lifting off again, using all of your strength to push yourself off and over the bridge. 

And Kyoya watches you helplessly, reaching out for you subconsciously. Then, miraculously, Kyoya's arm stretches, and your hands meet. His reaction is immediate, gripping your hand tightly and pulling you firmly toward him. 

"Are you crazy?!" He yells, eyes still carrying a significant amount of panic. 

"About you? Yeah." 

Two souls colliding together, two hearts beating as one.

The clock tower chimes in the distance, but the two of you are lost to the world. The chime should result in the carriage turning back into a pumpkin at the last stroke. But with a combined effort, the fairy godmother has decided otherwise. In the last glimmer of hope, you made the spell permanent, retrieved the glass slipper, and restored everything to its rightful place. 

You secure your arms around Kyoya's neck, his hand pushing your forehead to bury in his chest for safety. The both of you close your eyes, bracing for impact and holding each other as tightly as possible. 

Will you save me when I fall into the deep water below?

You know I will.

With a splash, your bodies are submerged into the cold water under the bridge. But neither of you have anything to fear. Not anymore. 

The feeling is familiar- you resting in Kyoya's arms bridal style as he wades through the shallow waters and toward the shore.

"We have to stop meeting like this." You jest, glancing up at him with a smile. 

Kyoya rolls his eyes, "Moron." He groans. 

"Excuse me?" You gasp as Kyoya sets you down on your feet in less than ankle-deep water. You put a hand on your heart, feigning a hurt expression. 

Kyoya reaches for you and you jerk away from him. 

"You, sir, cannot touch me like that. I'm single, you know." 

You cross your arms and turn away from him as a child would. Kyoya purses his lips, sighing in exasperation. 

"Did you miss the whole 'I'm in love with you' part earlier?" He cocks a brow at your behavior, nearly cracking a smile himself. 

Silence, save for the sound of water lapping at the shore.

"... you better take me off the market again before someone else does." 

Kyoya decides he's had enough of you, lunging for you quickly, "Come here, you." 

You squeal as he takes you in his arms and spins you around to face him, twirling you elegantly before dipping you with grace and sealing his lips against your own in a passionate kiss. Your hand cups the back of his neck, unable to kiss him properly because of the stupid smile spread across your lips. 

Kyoya hauls you to your feet again and laughs, "Dance with me, my love." He arranges the pair of you in an embrace appropriate for dancing, and you snicker at his antics. 

"But there's no music." You remind. 

"My heart sings when I'm with you. That's music enough." Kyoya insists, moving along to the beat of his own heart. 

You laugh long and loud, throwing your head back, and he continues to move with you beautifully. 

"You're being weird." You snort as Kyoya twirls you and pulls you back into his arms for a gentle embrace. You allow him to sway with you as you bask in the utter bliss, entirely unafraid of drowning if you're in Kyoya's arms. 

The mood between the two of you makes a noticeable shift, and you stretch onto your tiptoes to cling around his neck, "Please don't let me leave." 

"They'd have to pry you from my cold, dead hands."

You giggle, pulling back only just to meet his eyes, pressing your forehead to his. 

"I'm in love with you, too, Kyoya." Your lips meet in another searing kiss, and this time it's Kyoya's whose lips are stretched into such a broad smile that he is unable to give you a proper kiss. 

"Hey! Are you guys alright?" 

You manage to pull away from Kyoya enough to crane your neck to the voice behind you. Tamaki and Haruhi are leaned over the bridge's parapet, seeing as the convertible has stopped to let them out. 

"We're alright!" You assure with an enthusiastic wave, Kyoya mimicking you smally as Haruhi waves her arm. 

"y/n-chan! Kyo-chan!" A screech of your names turns you the opposite way, finding Honey throwing himself from the inside of a car and clumsily stumbling toward the shore to greet you with enthusiasm. 

"Senpai!" The twins follow him not too far behind. A quick glance back toward the bridge confirms that Tamaki has taken off to find a quick way to convene with the rest of his club. Haruhi must not be far behind. 

Meanwhile, Honey lunges into your awaiting arms with a squealing giggle, and you swing him around once and set him back down. 

Behind you, the red convertible waits for just a moment more before pulling away and peeling off down the road, continuing on as if nothing has changed. 

"Boss!" Tamaki arrives as quickly as his legs can carry him, a worn-out, breathless Haruhi on his tail. 

"Man, he's fast..." She bends over, hands placed on her knees as she heaves out short puffs of air. 

"The both of you are morons..." Kyoya grumbles bitterly, drawing both your and Tamaki's gaze toward him with confused expressions. 

"... leaving without saying goodbye? What were you thinking?" He scoffs. Tamaki's lips tug upward in a soft smile as Kyoya pulls you close to his body, seemingly unwilling to let you out of his arms for even a mere second after one of the most frightening experiences of his life- almost letting you walk away without even putting up a fight. 

"I clearly missed playing dress-up. You all look so dashing in your victorian outfits." You tease, tugging at Kyoya's time period-accurate collar. 

"Let's get you into your costume-"

"-before you run off and leave us again." The twins seem playfully bitter; arms crossed with teasing scowls upon their brows. 

You let out a sound that can only be characterized as a laugh mixed together with a sob, leaping onto your tiptoes and tossing your arms around their necks, causing them to bend to your level with surprised grunts. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, a grin splitting your cheeks in two. 

"I hate you guys." You sniffle, an unsteady giggle forcing its way through your throat. 

Hikaru clears his throat, "Yeah, well... you're the worst, so." He rolls his eyes. 

Kaoru scoffs, maneuvering the three of you apart so that he can sweep you into a tight embrace of his own, claiming you to himself for just a brief moment, "Can't just leave us like that, Senpai." He whines pitifully. You coo tenderly, pressing a hand to the back of Kaoru's neck, threading your fingers through his ginger locks as his face presses into your shoulder. 

"Couldn't ever leave you, Kaoru." The ever-present reminder that you know him sets Kaoru's heart alight with a comforting warmth, a smile spreading across his lips as a content expression settles over his features. You know him separately; you see him for who he is, an individual. 

"Hey, I'm still here," Hikaru grumbles as Kaoru pulls his face from your neck to face his brother, you turning along with him with a smug smile and a knowing glance. 

"Admit that you were going to miss me, and I'll hug you, too." You cross your arms playfully, a self-satisfied simper playing your lips. 

"You know, he was pretty distraught when we-"

"Shut up! I... I was gonna miss you." Hikaru mumbles. 

He isn't quite ready for you to pounce on him the way you do, practically hanging from his neck as his arms uncross themselves, unsure of how to react. Then, his miffed expression is completely erased and replaced with one of unexpected surprise.  

"I would have missed you and your stubborn ass, too."

Hikaru's cheeks flood with heat, tinting them a dusty pink shade as he groans, "Yeah, yeah." His arms cautiously encircle your body, apprehensively sparing Kyoya a glance as he does so. 

While expecting your partner to be glowering at the show of affection you're giving them. Instead Hikaru finds a fond smile spread from cheek to cheek, eyes soft and unaccusing. 

Hikaru lets his eyes slip shut with a feeling of relief, huffing out a breath of air over your back. When you pull yourself from him, his prominent frown has softened, and he looks at you as though you've returned something precious to him. 

A hand presses down onto your head, twisting gently through your hair as you crane your neck to meet the perpetrator's eyes. Mori's irises fall on yours with a tender expression. 

"I forgive you." He manages. 

You snort with laughter as he lets his hand trail from the top of your head to your cheek fondly, allowing you to lean into his callous palm before he's gently pulling away. 

"Are you okay? I can't believe you guys fell off the bridge like that..." Haruhi approaches you cautiously, carefully avoiding the edge of the water. 

You smile, embracing her tightly, to which she returns just as enthusiastically, "I should be asking you the same thing." You chuckle, pulling back far enough to meet her eyes. 

"Oh yeah, that was probably one of the scariest experiences of my life." Haruhi threads her fingers through her short locks, tittering awkwardly. 

"But even so... thanks, Kyoya-Senpai..." She turns to meet Kyoya's eyes. 

Kyoya places a steady hand on her shoulder, "Don't thank me... I should be thanking you." He settles Haruhi's confused expression when you settle in close to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you tightly. 

"You guys made up?" Honey inquires with hopeful, glittering eyes. 

"After that show? How could I not forgive him?" You tease. Kyoya rolls his eyes, gently shoving you in a playful manner as you stumble with a malicious giggle. 

"What? You guys fought?" Tamaki gawks, a panicked expression overtaking his features. 

"And broke up," Kyoya adds with devious intent, actively fighting a smug smirk. 

"WHAT-?"

"Senpai, it's okay... they made up," Haruhi assures, intervening at the perfect time to ensure that Tamaki doesn't break into an outburst. 

A shiver runs down your spine, causing your body to convulse briefly as you start to comprehend the consequences of plunging into a body of water in November. As you're pressed into Kyoya's body, his reaction is immediate. 

"Let's get you into your costume." He takes you by the shoulders and leads you toward the vehicle. 

"Yeah, it's cold out here." Hikaru agrees, rubbing his hands over his arms as the club crowds toward the car they'd arrived in. 

You glance up at Kyoya as you walk, "You know, I'm gonna tell everyone we ever meet about this." 

He groans, "Oh, God, please don't." He pleads futilely. 

"Kyoya hijacked a horse-drawn carriage and fell off said moving carriage over a bridge, all to get me to stay in Japan." You recall with a sense of dramatic theatricalism.  

"You fell off the bridge too, you know," Kyoya grumbles bitterly, wrenching open the door to the car before you get the chance to. 

"Yeah, trying to save you!" You remind with a wide grin. 

"Get in the car." Kyoya pleads with a knowing look, gesturing to the car's interior. 

"Sure you don't wanna take the carriage-?"

"Enough." 

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You're more than ready to end your eventful evening with a waltz or two with your club... with your friends. You do your very best to slip and squeeze between swaying dance partners despite the rather generous skirt of your costume's gown. With the help of Haruhi, Hikaru, and Kaoru, your hair is dried to near perfection and styled according to the time period. 

You pick up the light, baby pink skirt of your dress so as not to trip over it as you search for someone you know. 

"y/n-chan!" Before you know it, someone takes you by the wrist and spins you around to face them. After realizing that the perpetrator is none other than Honey, he takes you by both of your hands and continues to spin the both of you in a series of tight circles. 

Before you can get a word in, Honey's relinquished his grasp on you and sent you spinning without a partner. Although, it's not long before someone takes your outstretched arm and pulls you into a much calmer embrace, assuming the traditional waltz position. You're met with Mori in his navy blue tailcoat, severely concentrating on smoothly moving along with you. 

Meanwhile, Yuzuru Suoh and Yoshio Ootori convene in Yuzuru's office with a convenient view of the clock tower. 

"I'm sorry that we caused you concern. It looks as though Grand Tonnerre will not be purchasing my company after all." Yoshio's hands are folded in his lap as he occupies the sofa adjacent to Yuzuru's desk. 

"An unexpected backer turned up. They bought the company before Tonnerre had a chance and the backer said that he was turning all the management rights over to me."

Your next dance partner is Kaoru, swaying along with you with a gentle smile across his lips. 

"That was a bold move. Which funds manager was it?"

Kaoru twirls you under his arm expertly, drawing a giggle from you as you spiral right into his identical brother. 

"A student investor called K.O."

"Oh, God, what happened to your arm?" You gasp, finding that Hikaru has shed his jacket and opted for a sling around his right arm hanging off his neck. 

"Carriage accident, nothing too bad... you know it's kind of your fault." Hikaru smirks, trying his best to spin you around single-handedly. 

"He cleverly left his name out of the deal, but it didn't me long to figure out who it was." 

"Yeah, well- whoa!" Hikaru slings you along to your next partner. You seem to be progressing toward Kyoya, who is ready to welcome you with open arms when Tamaki slithers between the two of you. 

With a sinister smile, Tamaki steals you away for a brief waltz, much to Kyoya's shock and dismay as he stands speechless. 

You laugh at his reaction, placing your hands on Tamaki's shoulders and allowing him to dip you low to the ground, hoisting you back up with a goofy grin. 

"You are something, you know?" You snicker, watching over Tamaki's shoulder as Kyoya's gaze bores into his back, rather impatiently awaiting your return. 

"Have to tease him sometimes, you know?" Tamaki's eyes disappear as he grins, twirling you thrice under his arm. 

"K.O. is Kyoya Ootori. The new backer was none other than my own son." 

Tamaki turns you by your shoulder and thrusts you in Kyoya's direction. 

"Well, aren't you a vision?" Kyoya's simper widens, sliding an arm to rest on your waist and the other to intertwine with your fingers. 

"Yeah? Like it?" You beam confidently, absently reaching to touch the matching cherry blossom flowers in your hair. You allow your body to fall into a natural rhythm with his. 

"Indeed." Kyoya nods, eyes remaining on your smiling features. 

"You know, you say that a lot." Your brows furrow with the realization. Kyoya tilts his head. 

"Say what?" He inquires. 

"You say 'indeed' a lot. Why is that?" You tease, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a giggle. 

Kyoya shrugs, "Couldn't say." He fails to keep a smile off his face. 

"Is that your thing now?" Kyoya twirls you, pulling you back to his body closely. 

"If you want it to be." Kyoya nearly laughs at the way you're looking at him. 

"At least we know we don't have to worry about the future. I thought I knew how brilliant Kyoya was, but it seems he's even smarter than I thought."

You hum in contentment, gasping in realization when your mind sifts through topics of conversation, "Oh, my God. What happened with Grand Tonnerre? Aren't they buying your father's company?" You glance up at him anxiously. But to your surprise, he doesn't mirror an ounce of your worry. 

"I don't think we'll have anything to worry about." 

"What? How could you not worry? I mean, I don't want to stress you out, but it's sort of a big deal." You scoff in a nonthreatening way; brows furrowed as you mindlessly let Kyoya lead you in a gentle sway. 

"Maybe so, but I think your son is the one who's truly amazing."

"Don't get me wrong. I know it's a big deal." Weirdly enough, Kyoya cannot find it in himself to stop smiling. 

"I am responsible for the entirety of Kyoya's education. I always knew he would surpass his older brothers someday."

"Then- why are you being so weird? Aren't you afraid of your father losing the company?" You shake your head in disbelief at his reaction. 

"No, not really." Kyoya shrugs his shoulders, nibbling his bottom lip, containing his excitement for now. 

"However, I must say I'm shocked. While I can imagine Kyoya taking over a company, I never dreamed he'd turn around and give it right back to its original owner." 

"You-... You know something that I don't." Narrowing your eyes in an accusatory way, cracking Kyoya's resolve. 

"I might." 

"Are you going to keep being annoying, or are you going to tell me what the hell you know?" 

"As Kyoya grew up, I was constantly dangling the Ootori family companies in front of his face, torturing him with something he could never have." 

"Don't worry; I made sure that my father won't be losing the Ootori Group," Kyoya assures. 

"Spit it out, Kyoya. You can't keep going like this-"

"I... bought it out from under him." 

You blink, freezing on the spot. In turn, Kyoya's body halts along with you, both seemingly frozen in time in the traditional waltz position. 

"You... bought your father's company?" Your eyes grow wide in awe, your fingers tightening around the fabric of Kyoya's jacket where it lays on his chest. 

"Now, not only has he taken it out from under me by force, but he's basically told me he doesn't want it and has thrown it back in my face."

"That's unbelievable! Are you kidding?! I knew you were capable of something like that." You grab him by his collar, pulling him slightly down in your excitement. He chuckles. 

"Well, I didn't keep it." 

"Do you understand what that means?"

"What? Why the hell not? You could've... I don't know, taught your father and everyone else a lesson about underestimating you." You shake your head to yourself, eyes no longer focused on Kyoya's face with a creased brow. 

Kyoya hums, sliding his hands over your forearms and up to your wrists, tenderly taking hold of each one with affectionate eyes. 

"It means he's finally found it. He's found something that has an even greater value to him." 

"Because I have much more important things to focus on... I wouldn't have time for all of that." 

It's like a promise to spend your futures together. That owning a company at such a young age would hinder his attention on your relationship. Nearly letting you walk away has made Kyoya reconsider his priorities in a major sense. He's placed you at the top of the list. 

Your eyes well up with appreciatory tears, lip trembling as you whimper. You spring upward and drape your arms around Kyoya's neck, your nose buried into the junction of his shoulder and neck. He reciprocates quickly, arms encircling your body as he helps you reach him by holding your weight against him. 

"I love you." You whisper softly, eyes shut tightly and fingers just as tightly anchored to the fabric of Kyoya's jacket. It feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders just to say something so intimate to someone that you feel so strongly about. 

Kyoya's grin could practically split his cheeks, "I love you, too." He blinks, feeling a terrible stinging behind his eyes that he is nearly unable to put a stop to. 

Kyoya puts you at a distance enough to face each other, cupping your chin with his fingers and meeting you in the middle, and molding his lips to yours. 

A terribly loud crack! echoes through the sky, and you part from Kyoya abruptly, a startled gasp forcing its way through your lips as you glance to the starry night sky and find that a firework show has begun. 

"Oh wow... perfect timing, huh?" You exhale heavily, a hand over your chest, soothing your rapidly beating heart. 

You gasp, covering your lips, "Oh, we're in public." While your lips are still tingling with a spark, you glance around at the guests and fair attendees who might be watching you. 

"I'm aware." You squeal as Kyoya surges forward for another peck, flashing a smug smirk shortly afterward. 

Your heart swells with warmth. You hum with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek in appreciation. 

Kyoya's pocket vibrates, his ringtone for an unknown caller blasting in the silence between you. You separate yourself enough so that Kyoya can slide his hand between the two of you and fish his cell phone from his blazer. 

"I don't usually answer unknown numbers... but with everything going on with my father's company..." Kyoya sighs, glancing at you briefly. 

"Oh, no, by all means. I'll find one of the twins to dance with in the meanwhile." You tease. Kyoya groans, "Keep them under control; I'll be only a second." 

You pat him on the shoulder and spin on your heel to find either Hikaru or Kaoru, or the first host that manages to sweep you up; you don't particularly have a preference. 

Kyoya presses the phone to his ear, "Kyoya Ootori." He answers, voice taking a quick turn from gentle in your ear to professional over the phone. 

"I assume that my daughter is with you? Seeing as she's not at the airport with me by now." A grumble comes from the other line. 

Kyoya blinks, a deadpan expression over his features as your father's gruff voice reaches his ears. 

"She hasn't contacted me about anything, and I cannot reach her. I asked your father for your number, so here we are." 

Kyoya nods, soon realizing that your father cannot see anything he does, "Yes, she's here at the fair." 

A long sigh on the other end and a groan, "I somewhat expected this... in that case, I'll be leaving for London soon enough."

Another moment of silence, "I'm calling you... to say that I owe you an apology and a bout of gratitude." 

That's probably the last thing Kyoya ever expected to come through the mouth of your father and through the phone to his ears. 

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean." Kyoya's brows furrow with a baffled expression. 

"I've just caught word of the nameless backer that returned your father's company to him. The initials couldn't have been any less inconspicuous, you know."

Is... that a speck of sarcasm in your father's tone that he hears? One surprise after another. 

"And you gave it up."

Kyoya exhales, "Yes, sir, I did." 

"If I'm not mistaken, that's thanks to my daughter, is it not?" 

At the mention of you, Kyoya swivels his head to find you in the crowd. You're being tossed between Hikaru and Kaoru, respectively. He can hear your indistinguishable shouts of alarm as you're switched to and fro. 

"You guys!!"

If Kyoya weren't on the phone with your father, he would laugh. Instead, he shakes his head to himself, a fond simper tugging at the corners of his lips, "Indeed." Kyoya affirms. 

"I also caught wind... that you know of a certain unfortunate incident that transpired under my company some years ago."

Kyoya's heart drops to his stomach. Your debt. He's talking about the safety error found in the l/n Model 7 that he kept for years above your head. 

"And I wanted to thank you. You managed to keep that secret for God knows how long... I still wonder how you found out, but nonetheless, you didn't..." Your father pauses with a heavy exhale, forfeiting his next choice of words. 

"And I know that it was for the sake of my daughter and her continued financial security, but in turn, you also saved me from a world of trouble."

Kyoya inhales deeply, "I care for your daughter more than you know, sir, and I want to ensure that she is always safe in every sense. Whatever that may mean." 

The statement has a self-evident underlying meaning, and it certainly does not fly unnoticed over your father's head.  

"I'm going to continue to London. I believe that my daughter would appreciate the space for the time being. I trust that she would be more than happy to have the house to herself. But I need someone to check up on her every now and then. I think you're the man for the job."

It's becoming increasingly clear to Kyoya that your father is a man that does, indeed, care deeply for you and your well-being. Despite his doubt, he realizes that you were able to look past all of his outer behaviors and many, many flaws and see his inner workings. 

Your father trusts Kyoya to keep you safe. And although he may fight it, Kyoya's heart flutters gently at the notion, "No danger will come to her as long as there is breath in my body; you can be sure of that." 

Sitting alone in his grounded private jet, your father nods to himself. "Good, good. I hope you mean that. And I trust you'll relay the message to y/n."

"I will." Shortly after his reply, the line goes dead. Kyoya brings his cell phone away from his cheek and shuts it promptly, stuffing it into his blazer pocket with a newfound sense of pride. 

It isn't long before Kyoya finds you after he begins his search, squeezed tightly in Tamaki's arms as he shields you away from two griping ginger-haired brothers. 

"You can't just toss my daughter around like a rag-doll! Have some respect!" Tamaki hollers. You, on the other hand, look like you're about to asphyxiate with Tamaki's constricting arms around your body. 

"Alright, that's enough." Kyoya intervenes firmly. 

Tamaki is quick to relinquish his grasp on you, startled by Kyoya's appearance. You inhale with a gasp, clearing your throat with relief shortly after. 

"I will dance with you later, Tamaki. Go find Haruhi." You pat Tamaki on the shoulder, ignoring the pink tint that spreads across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose before turning to Kyoya eagerly. 

"So? Who was it? You were talking to them for a while." You adjust his collar absently, peering up at him expectantly. 

"We'll talk about it later. For now, I just want to dance with you." Kyoya pleads softly. 

You sigh, "You already danced with me, darling." You tease. 

"Then let's just sway here, alright?" Instead of assuming the traditional position for a waltz like your surrounding peers, Kyoya slides both hands to your waist and encourages you to sling both arms lazily over his shoulders. You do just as you're told. 

"You're cute; I like you." You giggle once your mouth is within proximity to his ear, nudging his head with your own. 

"Like me?" Kyoya raises a playful brow, not that you can see it, but you can practically hear it. 

"Fine. Love you." It seems as though neither of you can get enough of hearing or saying the word. 

"You're ridiculous." Kyoya scoffs. 

"Mhm, but you love me." You sing with a playful tone. 

"Indeed, I do." 

If Kyoya could have written his own story in middle school, he knows it would have a different plot than it does now. But when he looks into your eyes in this moment, watching them sparkling at him with such adoration like the stars above, the reflection of the beautiful fireworks in your irises, he knows that he could rewrite his story time and time again, and it would always end in some shape or form with you by his side. 

You know that you can count on your fearless confidant to pick you up when you fall and kneel with you when you're down. You know that in his arms, you are safe. Safe from the godforsaken world, safe from reality, safe from any hardship you might face. 

Only those with excellent social standing and those from filthy rich families are lucky enough to spend their time here at the elite, private school Ouran Academy. The Ouran Host Club is where the school's handsomest boys entertain with too much time on their hands entertain young ladies who also have way too much time on their hands. Just think of it as Ouran Academy's elegant playground for the super rich and beautiful. 

Remember, you're welcome to come and visit us in Music Room #3 whenever you'd like. The Ouran Host Club will be waiting for you.

And we wanna thank you, from the bottom of our hearts.

We hope you'll stay tuned, for our author has a lot more planned for our future. 

We'll see you then!!

~FIN~

🎵I run and run a thousand miles, and I am barely breathing. Only the fuel of a passionate heart keeps this body strong and moving forward.

Could it be I found a place to rest? How far until I’m OK?

Trees of the town reveal the time has come once again to shift our shade and colors. 🎵

🎵The world always changes around us but weakness will always remain;

Through all the pain, believe in who we are right here and now! 🎵

🎵Raise one hand to the sky; raise them both lift them high!!

And you’ll cut through the darkness make it go!

The time to start is now! And I can show you how.

Start with me, and the world will be even bigger than ever before. 🎵 

want to read more? here's my ouran masterlist 🌹

and here's my bts blog💜

want me to write something you want to see? request something💌

have any questions? talk to my characters!🙏🏻

Adieu~ 🌹🌹🌹

[voiceofthesilly]

Hi, uhm.

Your designs for the voices in STP are..

Genius.

The premise of their design are simple (birds(?) with animal skull heads(?)) yet it makes them so distinguishable!

Also your art is very yummy- It's beautiful.

Ajsjadhdja thanku!! this means a lot, espeically since i love your designs for them a LOT Gonna take that as an opportunity to explain them some bc i havent really done that so beware, long rant under the cut

The general idea was for them to have masks of various woodland creatures, as a general reference to the cabin being set in the woods and to add a bit of a fairytale twist, as often in fairytales guiding voices in form of animals appear But thinking about it skulls are such a sick idea and might use them for less cartoony iterations honestly

From left to right!

Cold was actually pretty hard to pick an animal for - @3zethe3zr has been immense help figuring those out with various voices and we went through options like wolves and bears before i settled on lynx (quick, efficient and solitary assassin). I wanted Cold to feel big and overpowering, blocking out everything else. In a way that silence is big, sorta. You might also notice that they're the only voice without markings - its partially because everything i could come up with felt too on the nose, and partially because well. what symbol better than vast emptiness. Largest voice! 8'2" tall

Paranoid is a mouse, i feel like the association here is pretty straightforward. Big wings to hide behind and bald patches from overpreening. Their pattern is the eyes, they can't seem to get rid of them. Some on the feathers, some straight on the skin.

Hunted gets a hare mask because i said so and hares have amazing prey eyes. It's rather large, but always crouched over and ready to bolt, making it much smaller than it could be - Hunted always says we're small, but there's a moment where Wild refutes that. Of course it's not in reference to physical size there, but I wanted to use that nonetheless. Target mark on their chest and mask. Eyes on the side of the head - not sure where i heard it first but it was sych a good take i had to do it

Hero !!! I struggled a lot with the animal for them, went through a bunch of deer, wolf, even bird at some point (birds were off limits). In the end went with 3zr's squirrel suggestion - a little kind voice sitting on your shoulder. Hero also gets a cape, as a treat. for being there always. And because they're a hero and im no edna mode. Markings are the slits in a knight helmet!

Stubborn was im pretty sure the first one who got designed at all, due to intense stubborn brainrot. Animal is a boar, due to the mfs being extremely hard to kill, though i did want to go with a wolverine for a while. His mask is moved aside, he's straighforward and has no need for hiding anythin. Masks off and knives out, am i right . He's the shortest voice in the lineup (whole 3'7"). this is because im not tall and i like him. I tried to strike a balance between squarish and triangle build. His wings are proudly on display, and so are his scars - a testiment to our resilience.

Opportunist! my littlest guy who missed being a weasel by like 3 milimeters and ended up fox. because of course he did. He's fucking tiny - i usually like making voices who dont consider us strong bigger than they think, but in this case it felt fitting to make it something he works with. The markings are pointed knives, pretty self-explanatory i feel. Usually partially hidden under the chest feathers. Also, his arms are hidden behind his back here but the palms are red - blood on him hands

Smitten is a deer! They always felt very noble to me, and, well, heart shape in the antlers! The mask is somewhat ill-fitting and she can't see well but that's alright, love is blind. The largest marking by far - he's not one to hide his nature, and his heart is as big as the markings would suggest. I wanted to give her this sorta chivalrous fairytale knight build. Wings folded into a wing shape!

Contrarian is another long boi, i felt it would work well for whatever silly limb contortions hed do. The animal is a natterer's bat specifically - again, 3zr's genious idea

Neck feathers meant to resemble a jester's collar. Funky patterns meant to be confusing and disorientin. In the lineup in particular i didn't do it, but the idea is that with the mask slightly more up and beak open it almost looks like he has three heads, paralleling Stranger

Skeptic i wanted to have a very solid build, so square he is. The markings are question marks - both on the mask and feathers. He's a little silly with his saying wink out loud, so he gets to have a question mark tie. Wings folded behind mimicking a trench coat. He deserves glasses

Broken is actually second longest! It doesn't matter though, does it. They can be as large as they want, doesn't change anything. Mask is a raccoon dog - felt fitting vibewise. Bald patches around neck, wrists and ankles, as if remnants of shackles locked around them. The markings are meant to mimick both cracks (in shape) and chains (in layout). Mask pulled up for them double sad eyes and because there isnt even a point in hiding

Last up, cheated! Hedgehog bastard. I guess kinda paralleling Razor in that regard? They're not particularly big and their feathers are ruffled. Uses wings for extra expression! Markings meant to both resemble scars and diamond suit

Also, earlier verisons!

[creepy-spooghetti]

Heya dear fella! ^^

I was wondering... What about some platonic Hcs for BEN, Jeff, Helen and Toby (Sepparetly) with an early teen fem!reader (like 12-13 years old)?

Like- The reader is just this sweet, kind, caring child who is always trying her best to make people happy always with a smile on her face and make sure their okay (that goes for physical and mental) but is always the one everyone forgets about, the one that's always left out, the one that always fades into the oblivion.

And so one night (at likely 2 am) the creep in question just finds her sitting on the sofa and he, kinda shocked, asks her "hey, you 'kay?"

And then the reader just looks at him with a confused expresion until she starts crying and shaking her head no while saying "I never was!"

This is my kinda prompt :D

Thank you for requesting!!

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

BEN

In all honesty, this dude can be pretty oblivious to what's going on around him, especially when it comes down to peoples' feelings. So he genuinely took your blitheful front at face value and assumed you were alright! How could you not be? You seemed so happy all the time!

However, these false conclusions came crumbling down when he spotted you alone in the living room, sporting a blank expression as you stared at what was seemingly nothing. It was a concerning sight, to say the least. So he laid down the food he'd just raided from the refrigerator and walked closer, waving a hand in front of your face.

"Uhh...Y/n? A-are you, like...okay?"

The response he got was certainly not one he was expecting, and it took him greatly off-guard. He was not good at dealing with this sorta stuff, and the way his body stiffened significantly was proof enough of that.

Still, he wasn't about to leave. That would just be immoral. So he took a seat on the coffee table in front of you and tilted his head, letting you ramble on about how no one seemed to care about you even though you made it your #1 goal to ensure everyone else felt heard and accounted for. He held his hand up to halt your words and offered a sincere grin. "Hold up, hold up. I care about you. That counts for something, right?"

Jeff

He figured after seeing you around for a while that something had to be up with you. After all, nobody can be that happy 24/7. But you had never made any effort to signify that you wanted someone to acknowledge the potential struggles you had, so he kinda just shrugged it off with the thought, "if she needed comfort or something, she'd go to someone about it".

This theory of his backfired when he saw you looking so lost and saddened on the sofa, and it honestly startled him; what could have happened that made you so...gloomy? He had just returned from a mission, so his hoodie was coated with patches of fresh blood and his hair was messy, but he figured taking a shower could wait.

Hesitantly, he approached, raising a worried brow. "Y/n, hey. You good?" The glance that he received for that question made his stomach tense, and before he could really process it, you just started to cry, burying your face in your hands and explaining through tears how you felt ignored and insignificant. He blinked in confusion but sat down beside you nonetheless, resting his arms on his knees and leaning forward to get a look at your expression. His voice softened a bit.

"...Has this been happening for a while?" When you nodded, he huffed in contemplation, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Ya know, if you wanted help, you could've just asked. I know this place is chaotic, but bearing a burden like this alone is just not ideal. You gotta let people know how you feel. Otherwise they'll probably never catch on. They're all idiots."

You sniffled, and he gently patted your back, lacing a lighter tone into his words. "Feel free to come to me, okay? I know I can be an asshole but I promise I won't give you a hard time about it."

Helen

Like Ben, he's a bit unaware of what people are feeling, but only because he's always so lost in thought. From the way you carried yourself all the time, he was almost jealous of you. Why couldn't he be that content with his life? What was he doing wrong to prevent that?

He just kinda shut down for a few seconds when he noticed you on the couch, appearing solemn. What was he supposed to do? He's not a 'people person' by any means, and even so, the two of you were never very close. Then he thought back to that time he was being tormented by Johnny and you stood up for him, and a decision was made.

Hesitantly, he willed himself to walk over and sit a couple of feet away from you, staring at the floor and speaking in a low voice. "Are you...alright?"

"No. I haven't been. Not for a long time." It was difficult to comprehend, as you had never once acted miserable in the past, but here he was, and here you were, experiencing it. He listened unsurely to your venting without interruption, and when you tapered into a sob-brimmed silence, he took it as his cue to - albeit reluctantly - place a hand on your upper back and provide words of attempted consolation.

"...Sorry you've had to deal with that. If you want to...you can come up to my room and we can sketch or something? I have some extra supplies you can use. Just to...get your mind off of everything."

Toby

Toby is no stranger to feeling lonely or disregarded, except he never purposefully convinced people that he was 'okay'. He knew that you weren't what you seemed, however, and though he never attempted to further confirm this (he has his own troubles to worry about, after all), he still watched closely on occasion, as he's a naturally observant person.

Seeing you on the couch in the middle of the night rose questions within him, and he didn't put much thought behind the matter before stepping over and speaking with a muted voice. "What's wrong with you?"

"Everything," is what you mumbled after several moments, and he leaned away in mild alarm when you started crying. This was certainly a concerning thing to witness. Still, instinct kicked in, and he sat down close by your side, brushing some hair out of your face.

He didn't say anything, as he was never very skilled with verbal comfort, but when he realized that your emotional breakdown might last a while, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into him, expecting to be pushed away, but you only reciprocated.

And like that, you stayed, until you settled down enough to uphold a conversation. Then he opened his mouth. "Hey... Jane and I are getting together tomorrow to play chess. Wanna join us?"

[clarionglass]

yeah, we all knew this one was coming. 5395 words, if you're wondering exactly how bad the brain rot has set in ^^;

----- deja vu (sam reich!master cinematic universe, part 2)

Right from the beginning of Game Changer, Sam had had a small monitor in his dressing room where he could watch the show being recorded. He'd always appreciated it being there, but never quite understood the point of having it, if he was going to be on stage hosting the shows himself. 

When his doppelganger was hosting, though, being able to watch the show while hidden away was absolutely ideal. 

Since Escape the Greenroom, the pair had been less cautious about being seen in the building together. It was always more enjoyable to debrief immediately after a show, and besides, they had their secret weapon. The magic technology that kept anyone from thinking too hard about two Sams in the one place had turned out to be nothing more than a small lump of circuitry attached to a key on a loop of string, and whichever Sam wasn't on set at the time held onto it and watched the session from the dressing room. It was an extra precaution—hell, if everyone knew Sam was in the middle of a recording, why would they be going into his dressing room—but it was handy to have nonetheless. 

It didn't work if you knew what you were looking for, though, so when the door creaked open and his doppelganger walked in, pure glee painted across his face from ear to ear, he turned his megawatt smile on Sam straight away. 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Good record, was it?”

“Oh, was it ever.”

“Well, great!” Sam replied. “You were pretty keen for this one, glad it lived up to expectations.”

As his double nodded with satisfaction, Sam's eyes flicked back to the monitor, now showing a view of backstage, and Trapp, Ify and Siobhan talking quietly to each other. 

Something felt off. They didn't seem distressed or anything bad, bad, but the energy between the three contestants was weirdly muted. As it was for everyone, actually. Josh, Zac, Brian—the general vibe backstage was sitting noticeably lower than usual, particularly with such big personalities in the room. 

“How'd the cast take it, though?” he asked. “They all look exhausted, was everything alright?”

His doppelganger flapped a hand dismissively. “Oh, they're fine. It was just a long record.”

“No longer than usual,” Sam said, with a brief glance down at his watch and a frown. “We had seven loops planned, right? And you definitely didn't get through all of them, you only did, what—”

“Five, yeah,” his double agreed, speaking with him. “For the episode, we ended up recording five.”

There was an odd tone in his voice as he said it, an emphasis on the specifics that was just a little too weighted. Sam grimaced. 

“I'm sensing there's a but coming.”

“Yeah,” his doppelganger admitted slowly, then grinned, a bright, twinkling expression of pure mischief. “We actually ran a lot more loops than that.”

“Wait,” Sam said, “wait. No, you didn't, I was watching the entire thing.”

“Come on,” his doppelganger shot back, a bite of impatience bleeding into his excitement. “You really think I'd fight to do the fake time loop episode and not throw in a real time loop or five?”

“Oh my god.” It was all Sam could say, and he really couldn't tell if he was impressed, or dumbfounded, or just really fucking worried. “Oh, my god. What did you do?”

The giddy delight shining in his double's eyes as his smile broadened even further, brilliant and infectious and only slightly predatory, did nothing to calm Sam's nerves. 

---

The first loop went well enough, and confusingly enough. Weird trivia, questions that clearly had an answer, but no way of working out what that answer was, cameos that didn’t seem to relate to anything—it was strange, but you knew that was what you were getting into when you signed up for Game Changer. Trapp, Ify and Siobhan knew that there was a solution to it, but they’d just have to work until they found it.

And then Sam pulled out that bizarre dance that he expected them all to join in on, and accidentally kicked Kevin’s camera out of his hands, and the three of them shuffled offstage for a two minute reset.

-

The second loop, the pieces were starting to fit into place. The trivia was a memory tester; the weird questions had answers that could only be worked out with knowledge gained in previous rounds; Zac’s—sorry, Grant’s—spaghetti was going to cause problems by way of Brian’s podium inspector; the list went on. 

This time, it was pretty clear that the kick wasn’t accidental. 

-

The third loop, everyone knew they were dealing with loops right from the start. 

-

“I think my watch battery is dead,” grumbled Ify on the t̷͖͗̅h̶̥̔͗i̴͉̞̊r̴̭͘d̵̢͔͌̈́ loop.

-

Loop aft̵̐͜e̷̘̓r̵̩͊ ḽ̵̞́o̷͉̬̼͈͘ö̸̖̠̭́̈̀p̶̡̣̖͂ ạ̸͌͘f̸̱̲͐͗t̶͈͐̇ẻ̶͇̮̄ř̷̤̗͝ ̷̹̌l̸͎͎̔̀̅̀̀̕ò̸̢̨̜͓̳̮̀̕o̶̮̕p̵̪̫̠̝̘̒͒͗̚ͅ, ad infinitum ad nauseam. 

-

A few loops in, Siobhan watched Brian get paler and paler as he examined the trio of podiums. And this time, he was actually taking the time to look at them properly, not just making an act of peering through that stupid little magnifying glass in order to justify a foregone conclusion. He was acting weird, even for him.

Still, he put a good face on it, declaring each one dirty in increasingly elaborate ways, just as he had every time before. Something had clearly rattled him, though, and it made her uneasy in turn.

“Sir? Excuse me, sir?” she said, just as she had the last few rounds, and smiled sweetly with a dollar bill folded in her palm. As Brian came over, she locked eyes with him, hoping the look was enough to convey her question.

“Camcorder, Jan ‘97,” he muttered as he took the money, and had given her the (bribed) point and hurried backstage before she could ask what he meant.

She knew the video he was referring to, it was one of his. Creepy, definitely, but very well-done, all about rewinding tape and rewriting time. And—yeah, man, duh. This was the time loop episode, apparently, so why state the obvious? And why so cryptically?

Unless… unless it was something to do with time loops that wasn’t to do with the format of the episode. 

How long had they been recording, anyway? All their phones were in the box backstage, Ify’s watch was dead, she wasn’t wearing one at all, and with her and Trapp on the outside podiums, there was no way she could ask him without making it look stunningly obvious. But it had been a while, for sure, and Sam wasn’t showing any of his usual signs of wanting to usher the recording session towards a natural conclusion.

If anything, he was looking wolfishly pleased with the way things were turning out. He'd even favoured Brian with a wider grin than usual, where Brian's own smile had been kind of watery. 

Another part of that video, Siobhan couldn't help but recall, was that sinister, looming silhouette.

-

Through more and more loops, and the brief interludes they were granted backstage, they’d worked out the rules, sort of. People weren’t affected by the loops resetting, they carried through pretty much as normal. Objects didn’t, though. Things on the set, like the ducks, the money in their envelopes, and the spaghetti stuck to their podiums, reset to the state they were at at the beginning of what they’d begun to call “Loop 3.0”. Things brought across the threshold of the set, like Zac/Grant’s plate of spaghetti, or Josh’s balloons, reset as soon as they crossed over that boundary.

Josh hadn’t had a good time when he realised that one. While the contestant cast and the cameo cast were kept separate backstage, the contestants had to assume that Brian would have told them everything he’d worked out. The next loop after Brian had given his hint to Siobhan, the contestants had to watch a very good character actor try to keep control of the creepy clown role while going through a moderate existential crisis. It was uncomfortable to watch, stuck at their podiums and unable to help. At least they could mutter a few words of encouragement each time they went up to pop a balloon, and the same with Zac and Brian each time they came by to mess up or inspect their podiums. 

It was good to have that connection, brief as it might have been. They might have been stuck, but at least they were in this fuckery together.

The crew, though, seemed to be immune from feeling the weirdness they were caught up in. Or—no. Not immune. Exempt. They weren’t trapped in the loop, they were part of it, moving along their set tracks like automata. It took the cast a while to work that one out, because Sam kept time perfectly, interacting with Ash when she brought out the contraption and the jar of beans as if they were having a normal, fluid conversation. But then Ify spotted that the camera operators were moving completely out of sync with the cast, and Trapp noticed that only Sam’s half of the interaction with Ash ever changed, and the illusion fell apart from there. The crew wouldn’t be a lifeline.

And speaking of Sam… Fuck, it was a hard one to swallow. He was their boss, their friend, and they’d all known him for years—hell, he’d come through for each of them multiple times. Until now, he had been pretty unequivocally a Good Guy. But it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the signs that Sam Reich was the puppeteer of this entire shitshow.

He was still pretending to not know what anyone meant when they expressed frustration with the loops, but the words were accompanied by a twinkle in his eye that said he knew exactly what was going on, and was staunchly refusing to help. He was delighting in their discomfort, even more so now the cast knew just how fucked they really were.

He looked like Sam, he sounded like Sam, every single mannerism was something that the cast knew intimately. But the personality driving his actions was wrong. Maybe this guy wasn’t Sam at all. Fuck, if they’d suddenly been catapulted into a reality where time loops were real, maybe so were evil clones, or brain-snatching parasites, or—no, the magician great-grandfather lore from Escape the Greenroom was still a stretch too far. But given the choice between believing that a weird sci-fi plotline was true, when another one was literally happening around them; or believing that their friend had secretly been some kind of torturer with access to sci-fi tech the entire time they’d known him—the decision wasn’t particularly hard. 

“We have to stop him from kicking the camera,” Trapp said quietly, as soon as they had all huddled backstage. “That’s what he’s going with as the trigger.”

“It could be another bluff,” Siobhan interjected glumly. “More fucking misdirection.”

Trapp shot her a look. “You got anything better you want to try?”

“I can get between him and Kevin if I’m quick,” Ify volunteered, the tallest among them by a good half a head, with a build to match.

“See what happens,” Trapp said. “But be careful, yeah? Don’t get yourself hurt.”

“So what’s the way to get out?” Siobhan asked, as Ify nodded his agreement. “There has to be something, I might start killing people if I let myself think this is actually completely random.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Popping the right balloon? Or winning the video game?”

“Or unlocking that,” Ify suggested, nodding to the green chest that had been sitting on the table the entire time. 

“Yeah,” Siobhan and Trapp agreed together.

“Cool, so we try and—”

“Sorry, y’all, but I’m supposed to take your phones?” Kaylin interrupted, holding out the box as she always did. 

By virtue of podium order, Trapp, then Ify, then Siobhan noticed it as they walked on and gave their introductions. Something had changed.

The point totals on the podiums read 14, 9, 14. The points they’d ended with in Loop 3, not started with. They’d survived it. Time was moving.

-

“Sam, look over there!” Siobhan exclaimed as she entered, and dragged a couple of boxes onstage with her in no more subtle a way than she did the last time. 

Trapp got it, he really did. These loops had been… wearing, was probably the best word for it. “Sadistic” was a bit too harsh, particularly when nothing actually bad had been happening (and to be honest, he didn’t even want to risk thinking too badly of the person who seemed to be pulling all the strings in this scenario, in case he somehow noticed, and decided to turn the heat up), but… yeah. Wearing. So he understood why Siobhan might be trying to keep things the same. Making the group less fun for their host to play with.

The trivia rounds were chaos, as always, and passed in a jumble of noise that Trapp was only half focused on. A quiz show was still a quiz show, even if it had descended into some kind of weird time loop purgatory, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to be first on the buzzer regardless. Maybe the points were the way to get out of this whole shitshow, who could say. But when Ify and Siobhan started to have their exact same argument over the equation question, complete with Ify’s triumphant twerking, Trapp felt his stomach rise into his throat, as if once again, the ground had been cut out from under him.

“Yeah, Solzhenitsyn,” Siobhan nodded in response to a question he hadn’t asked, and his blood went cold. 

Sam, or possibly ‘Sam’, looked him dead in the eye and winked. 

“Next up, there’s a little game I have just for Mike Trapp,” he said with a smirk.

Tinny music started up, and the bright colours of that infuriating video game popped up on the screen, but Trapp didn't care. There wasn't any point in pretending now. 

“You fucker,” he said, walking close to eyeball the host. “You mother fucker.”

‘Sam’ just wheezed with laughter, exactly as the real Sam Reich would when a contestant insulted him out of annoyance at the game, and for the briefest of moments, Trapp had his doubts. Everything about this man said Sam Reich, every tiny detail. Had he really been hiding this all along?

“You were doing great playing as a team,” ‘Sam’ said once he'd regained his composure, looking at Trapp with wide-eyed sincerity. “But that's not really the point of the game, now, is it?”

No. Sam, actual Sam, wouldn't do this to his friends.

“What have you done to them?”

“To them? Nothing,” whoever the fuck this was said brightly. “To the studio, though… Well, it would take too long to explain, and you wouldn’t understand most of it anyway. Let’s just say I can run this whole place like a VCR, and the only two people who wouldn’t be caught up in it right now are you and me, bud.”

“That’s fucked up,” Trapp said, as Ash, deaf and blind to their conversation, came out with the giant jar of beans. “That’s just fucked. Let them go.”

“Aw, but they’re probably having a better time than you are right now,” ‘Sam’ said, mock-serious. “They think time’s finally moving ahead for them, remember? And anyway, do you really want to be arguing with little old me when you’re wasting your one chance to earn points without any competition? It is an individual game, after all.”

Trapp’s eyebrows shot high. “Are you saying only one of us gets out of this? You sick fuck.”

‘Sam’ just shrugged and smiled, looking meaningfully at the empty podium. “Do you want to risk it? The choice is yours, Trapp, but time's a-ticking.” His smile flashed. “Or maybe it isn't.”

-

“Next up, there’s a little game I have just for Ify Nwadiwe,” ‘Sam’ announced.

Yeah, no shit. Ify wasn’t an idiot, even if his point total was sitting below his fellow contestants’. He’d been checking his not-actually-dead watch at the start of every loop, so he knew right from the off that even though their host had been gracious and let them pass through one gauntlet, it sure didn’t mean that the time fuckery had finished. 

This run, though, was looking extra screwed up. Siobhan arguing loudly with him about things he didn’t even say this time was the final confirmation. He was alone in this loop, just him and the guy who was running the show.

He knew that ‘Sam’ knew that he knew that he was the only person who wasn’t stuck. So he waited, staring flatly at the person who had taken over the host’s podium, watching to see what move he would make.

‘Sam’ just smiled. “Left or right?”

Alright, so that’s how he was going to play it. Yeah, no, absolutely not. 

“Nah, nah, nah,” Ify said instead of engaging, because it didn’t really matter. In his peripheral vision, the game kept scrolling through. “Fuck that. What’s the win condition? What do we need to do to get out of here?”

“Play the game,” ‘Sam’ replied.

“Shut the fuck up, man.” Ify shook his head, and ‘Sam’ chuckled like he’d told a good joke. “We’ve already done that, and it’s got us exactly fuckin nowhere. You put us in this thing for a reason, so there’s gotta be something you want to see happen.”

‘Sam’ blinked at him innocently. “Who says this isn’t exactly it?”

Ify took a deep breath. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying we’re in here, doing the same shit over and over again, until you feel like you’ve had enough?”

“In a nutshell,” ‘Sam’ beamed, “yes.”

“Fuck you, man,” Ify said, shifting his weight to lean more heavily on the podium. “Fuck you.”

“Noted,” ‘Sam’ said brightly. “But I wouldn’t spend too long being mad at me, because—” he broke off, giving the front of Ify’s podium a significant look, “—you’ve got quite a lot of ground to make up, in… well. Who can say how much time?”

“Fuck you,” Ify repeated, and ‘Sam’ just laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

-

Ify was taking too long to name a goddamn Keanu Reeves film, again, and Siobhan had had just about enough. So when he stalled, and stalled, and still came up with the same title he’d answered in the last round, grinning like he’d just got one over on her, she could have screamed.

And then she remembered where she was, and who was asking the questions, and her heart sank. They weren’t done yet, apparently, and this time she was completely on her own.

She playacted the rest of the argument, that and the equation question, and hated the fact that even to her own ears, she was sounding more and more shrill as she shouted, because yeah, it’s panic-inducing to continue a screaming match with someone who doesn’t even register that you’re there. Every word was another reminder that she was trapped.

And then the melodrama stopped, and ‘Sam’ smiled at her. “Next up, there’s a little game I have just—”

“—for Siobhan Thompson?” she finished with him, voice dripping with sarcastic surprise, just like she had in Loop 3.0. 

“That’s right!” ‘Sam’ said happily. “Now. Left, or right?”

“No,” Siobhan said.

The man in front of her raised his eyebrows. “No?”

“You’re not Sam, which means I’m not fucking playing. So, who are you?”

“Sam Reich,” he answered quickly, easily, naturally.

Siobhan frowned. “No. Bullshit. Who are you?”

“Sam Reich,” he repeated, sounding somehow even more sincere, and genuinely confused that Siobhan would be asking. Fuck that. She wouldn’t take it. Couldn’t take it.

“No. Bullshit. Try again! Who the fuck are you?”

This time, instead of doubling down, he paused. “Do you want to know a secret?”

After a moment, she nodded warily. He beckoned her close, and slowly, cautiously, she left her podium, walking up to this devil in the shape of a game-show host. Close enough to see his eyes properly, and how truly, deeply old they were.

“Even if I told you,” he stage-whispered, those ancient eyes sparkling with terrible glee, “it wouldn’t make a single bit of difference.”

-

“Did you just—”

“Yeah. And—”

“Yeah.”

The three of them were once again huddled backstage, debriefing. 

“So, are we allowed to do this?” Trapp asked quietly. “Because he seemed pretty against the idea of us working together.”

“Didn't say anything to me,” Ify shrugged. “And I don't see another way of getting out of this if we don't share stuff. And even then—sorry, but I think we're here til he wants to let us go.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Ify said. “Because we got the game, we got the key, we opened the chest, and here we all are again, so I dunno what we have to do. I asked him point blank about the win condition, and—”

“He made it sound like the points, to me,” Trapp interrupted.

Ify nodded. “Me too. But he also pretty much said we're here because he's having fun. I don't think the points are it.”

“So we can lose, but we can't win.” Siobhan's voice was dull.

“C'mon, Siobhan,” Trapp said encouragingly. “We'll get out of it. We've gotta have hope.”

Siobhan just looked flatly at him.

“Look, there are silver linings, okay?” Trapp insisted. “Not many, sure, but enough to look for. Like, because it means our actual friend isn't fucking with us—this guy isn't Sam, that's for sure.”

“I'm not…” Siobhan started, and winced. “This is going to sound bad. But I'm not even sure he's human.”

Ify exhaled deeply.

“Don't give me that,” Siobhan snapped reflexively, and Ify raised his hands placatingly.

“I'm not saying I don't agree,” he said. “It checks out. But it's heavy going, that's all.”

Siobhan nodded, looking calmer. “He still wouldn't say who he is, but… I saw him. The real him, up close. And yeah, he's the spitting image of Sam, but… fuck. People don't look like that behind the eyes.”

“Jesus,” Trapp breathed.

She just nodded wordlessly in reply, and despite knowing that it was costing them valuable discussing time, all three lapsed into silence. What could you say to that sort of revelation?

“The microphone,” Ify said abruptly, and Trapp and Siobhan’s eyes both swung to him. “I mean, I’ve still been thinking about win conditions. Or at least how he’s controlling the loop, and how we can use that.”

“He said he can run it like a VCR,” Trapp added. “But I’m not sure how, I assumed it was something in his podium—”

“But he keeps drawing attention to the microphone,” Ify continued. “Every single goddamn loop.”

“So we break it,” Siobhan said decisively. 

Trapp made a face. “Or steal it?”

“Whatever. Either way, we get it out of his control.”

“Sorry, y’all,” came a familiar voice, and they all had to stifle a groan. Planning time was over.  

The game started back up again, and—the point totals were as high as they remembered. The set was just as dirty. All promising signs. 

And then their host’s eyes turned to Siobhan after Ify’s successful run at the video game, and her stomach clenched. Even though the time loop continuing was the worst possible scenario, departures from his routine were never a positive thing.

He gave her an indulgent look. “But, Siobhan.” 

She was focused, she was prepared, she could handle whatever he threw at her. “Yes.”

“Because it is the last round of our game…”

Oh.

The buzzy little chiptune started up again, but to Siobhan, Trapp and Ify, it didn't mean a thing. The words “last round” rang in their ears sweeter than any music.

All of them knew it was probably false hope. Nonetheless, it was better than nothing. Something to cling to as they trod the motions of the remaining questions.

And then the cameo cast and all the crew came onstage when the wenis music played, and that certainly had a grand finale type feel to it; and Kevin didn’t get kicked in the face, no matter how much he was darting around in what had suddenly become a minefield of flailing limbs; and whatever it was that was wearing Sam Reich’s face led them all through more repetitions of the routine than usual, radiating manic joy the entire time.

“And stop!” he yelled as the music cut out, throwing his arms wide and looking around frantically as if the camera remaining intact had any fucking bearing on the time loop whatsoever. “Kevin, did we get that?”

The cameraman pulled open the now heavily duct-taped camera body, then looked up, scripted embarrassment mingling with scripted regret. “There’s no tape in the camera.”

And with that, their host turned away from him to look straight down the barrel of the main camera, favouring it with an open smile of pure, uncomplicated enjoyment; the sort of smile that invited you to share in it with him, no matter how strong the hatred that burned in your veins. “That brings us to the end of our show!” he announced happily. “Our winner tonight: Mike Trapp!”

“No-one’s a winner,” Trapp cut in, shaking his head. “No-one’s a winner here today.”

But even so, he was presented with a cool watch, and the confetti cannons went off, and they left the set for longer than two minutes and weren't called back at all, and finally, finally, they could let themselves believe it. 

The loop was broken. They were free. 

---

“What did I do?” Sam’s doppelganger repeated, pausing for a moment to think. “Oh, nothing awful.”

Normally, Sam would be content to let that slide. But just lately, he’d been getting a weird feeling from his doppelganger, and there was too much grey area between ‘something good’ and ‘nothing awful’ to be comfortable. “No, seriously.”

“We just ran the recording a few more times,” his double huffed, his smile fading—not quite impatient, but visibly put out, somehow, like he didn’t feel sufficiently appreciated. “Look at them, they’re fine.”

“I am looking at them,” Sam said. “And that’s why I’m asking. They’re my friends, I can tell when something isn’t right.”

His doppelganger hummed briefly, moving next to him to come and look at the monitor, and—just for a flash, less than a second—Sam felt the hair on the back of his neck rise when his double passed behind him. 

“Maybe you're right,” he said slowly, after watching the feed for a few seconds. “Okay, I'll fix it. I'll have a chat to them.”

Sam exhaled, relief washing over him. Of course there wasn't anything to be worried about.

“Thanks,” he said.

His double just smiled faintly and nodded, then left the room.

Sam turned back to the monitor, waiting for the moment a minute or so later when his double would appear in the frame. And sure enough, he did. The sound setup was only piped in from the stage, and even then it wasn’t the best quality, so Sam didn’t have a chance of hearing what was actually being said. But he watched as, without exception, every single cast member flinched when his doppelganger touched them lightly on the shoulder to get their attention. 

The conversations were quiet, with a gentle sort of intensity. His double seemed to be focused on making sure each person felt acknowledged—Sam couldn’t recall him breaking eye contact with anyone he was speaking to—and whatever he said, it seemed to work. One after another, he spoke to all the cast, contestants and cameos, leaving calm in his wake. And when he had talked to the last one, and everyone looked settled and genuinely at ease, he shot a look of pure satisfaction towards the backstage camera, and headed out of view.

“Thank you,” Sam said again when his doppelganger returned to their dressing room, and received a gracious nod in reply. “Just out of curiosity, though—what did you tell them? Because fuck, it worked like a charm!”

His double tilted his head, half-smiling. “Oh, you know. All the right things. That I was very sorry for anything that might have gone weird during the recording, that I wasn’t feeling like myself, that it’ll never happen again… Oh, yeah—and then I wiped their memories.”

Sam coughed. “You what?”

“Wiped their memories,” his double repeated matter-of-factly. “It was the simplest solution, really. Everyone stays in continuity, they’re blissfully free of any… more troubling memories, our cover isn’t blown—it’s perfect.”

“No, hang on, you can’t—”

“I can, and I did,” his doppelganger replied. “I fixed the problem—which you asked me to, I might add—and now everyone’s back to their regular happy selves. It’s a totally closed system. The only person who knows it happened at all is me. Oh, and you, of course.”

Sam frowned.

“Besides, this way, you don’t have to worry about having to work out the overtime for a time loop, because they’ve got no idea what the extra pay would even be for,” his double added breezily before he had a chance to say anything, then snapped serious. “And don’t look at me like that, Samuel Dalton Reich, because you were thinking about it. I know you.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t deny it. The tiny part of his mind that was always in Dropout CEO mode had been grappling with the ethical and financial implications of a time loop and getting nowhere, and the relief of not having to deal with it was like a fist unclenching.

“See?” his doppelganger said, meeting his eyes with a pointed sort of kindness. “I know what I’m doing, Sam, I’ve been doing it for a very long time. And it’s better for everyone like this.”

“I don’t—” Sam started, faltering. On the one hand, there was something intuitively and viscerally horrifying about his friends having their memories wiped. But on the other… 

“If you don’t want to know,” his double said softly, and god, it gave Sam the shivers to hear his own voice used that way, “there is a way around it. I thought you’d rather be a part of everything that’s going on, but…”

His eyes caught and held on Sam’s like magnets, and—something had shifted behind them, something small, but with a seismic effect. He was pinned by that gaze, trapped, electrified; wholly unable to look away.

“I can do the same for you as I did for them.”

On the other hand… his double was right. It was kinder, probably, if they didn’t remember whatever they went through, and in that moment, he realised he couldn’t even begin to guess what that was. And… it was definitely easier.

“No,” he said, and when the word came out as a whisper, he cleared his throat and tried again. “No. It’s okay.”

His doppelganger blinked, and the spell was broken.

“Great!” he said brightly, back to his usual cheerful self, with all traces of that scary side—that dangerous side—folded neatly away. “You know, I really didn’t want to have to do that to you—you’ve been so much fun to work with, it would have been a shame to have it all come to nothing.”

And Sam, feeling like a marionette with its strings cut, hated the fact that he agreed. Even with everything that had happened lately, he couldn’t deny that the electricity that came from working with his doppelganger, the sizzle of pushing ideas just that bit past the boundaries and laughing uproariously at the result, was liberating. Exhilarating. Addictive, almost, a heart-racing excitement that sang in his blood.

Maybe the danger was part of the game. And as long as nobody came to any harm, he could keep playing.

“Just… promise me one thing, okay?” he started, and his double turned wide, patient eyes on him. “Promise me I won’t have to see anything like that again. There’s nothing we can do to change this now, but I can’t let it happen again, yeah? They’re my friends, and there’s a line.”

“Sure,” his doppelganger agreed. “You’re right. And I do like them, so—hm. I’ll treat them like I would my own friend.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied, finally letting the tension drain out of him. “That means a lot.”

His doppelganger just nodded in acknowledgement, then clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. “C’mon. We’ve got more work to do.”

----- missed an installment of the sam reich!master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): you are here!