#we don’t talk about Bruno playing in the distance

[intistone]

y/n teaching the kiddos how to swim? or maybe a movie night?

a wholesome animated movie it is then :)

[theresattrpgforthat]

games to play with my long distance partner? we’re queer nerds, i have a lot of dnd experience and some not dnd experience, they have a little bit of dnd experience, we both have fucked up schedules so something that’s asynchronous or short would be best. uh. there’s two of us. yeah i think that’s everything.

THEME: Long-Distance Games.

Hello friend, I am excited to introduce to you the joys of epistolary games!

From the Petals to the Leaves, by somewhere with stories.

This is a two player game about writing to a loved one while you are apart.  Throughout the game you will write to each other while in different gardens, surrounded by plants and flowers of your choice. 

This looks to be a pretty small game, but I think it fits the mood of writing to a loved one, with a concrete topic to base your conversations around - the plants in your gardens. I don’t own this game but I own a similar one by the same creator, so I’m assuming that the game provides you with a prompt list for each letter you send each-other. You can create your characters slowly as you write, uncovering bits and pieces about each-other through your fictional personas. If you just want something a little extra to flavour your letters to each-other, this might be worth looking at.

Soulum Scriptum, by Radmad.

Featuring the art of Marisa Bruno, Soulum Scriptum is a letter writing game for two or more players. You are isolated and alone, until a mysterious courier arrives at your door. They give you a proposition: write letters for someone just like you and they will bring you letters in return.

Develop the broken world and the haven that protects you, all while fighting despair and taking what hope you can find in your new connection across time and space. 

This is a game of connection, between two isolated individuals who are struggling with despair. There are pages for various steps of the game, from world and character creation, to how to manage your feelings after your first letter. There’s also instructions for what to do when you fill certain tracks, including the track for your Haven (your home) and your Hopes (lines and pieces of the letters you receive that give you hope). If you like emotional games that have great potential to tell a story that grows brighter as you play, I recommend Soulum Scriptum.

Talking Thunder, by Eleanor Hingley.

‘Talking Thunder’ is a two-player correspondence RPG about finding connection in a dystopian world. 

As the world changes, you never know what news each letter from your only friend will bring…

If you even hear from them again.

Another game about connection, this time in a post-apocalypse of some kind. I’m curious about how the letters are meant to reach each-other in the fiction of this game, although I suspect that ultimately that is up to the two of you!

We Are Ciphers, by Jgurantz.

We Are Ciphers is a 2-player letter-writing game where you craft a story using coded messages sent through the mail.  You and your partner both covet the Prize, which you believe will transform your lives for the better. But acquiring it is an extremely tricky operation. Many things stand in your way, including the Target. 

This is a letter-writing game with an added layer of complexity, because both of you could be writing in code! The code part is optional, but the premise of the game is that you are two spies trying to get your hands on the Prize - whatever you two decide that may be. The game comes with a list of popular media for inspiration, as well as a series of checkboxes for you to tick off to help you create a game that would be fun for the two of you. There’s also a number of worksheets to help you build your world, craft your codes, and create your characters. If you would like a fair amount of guidance as to how to play the game, We Are Ciphers might be up your alley.

The Wanderers, by AdventureByMail.

You and your friend wait to board two ARK-4 Civilian Class Shuttles charted for new colonies in the hinterlands of space. Though you will be several light-years apart, you promise to keep in touch through the interstellar communication network known as the Unified Starways Parley System. You'll use this network to tell each other about the life you build and the love you discover in the far reaches of space…

This creator makes a number of games designed for long-distance play, so if you like The Wanderers, you might want to check out some of their other work as well! The game itself is small enough to fit on a brochure, so it should be easy to print out and keep somewhere for easy reference. There are roll tables to help you create a character, and some advice on how to write your first letter. Following letters will be provided prompts based on a deck of playing cards, with special rules for drawing Aces. If you like using a bit of randomization to help drive a story, this game might be for you!

Games I've Recommended in the Past

I've played The Reaper's Almanac with a friend before and I really really love the premise of it. It has a chance to dive into some pretty traumatic material, however, as it is about death, so make sure to talk about your partner about the things you'd like to steer clear of if you play this game.

[foggyfanfic]

Love and Fury

Chapter Preview: “It happened so fast, we were saying our goodbyes and suddenly he just swooped in, no warning, and- and- yeah,” Leandra used both hands to sweep her hair back from her face as she started to pace, “it was only a peck, really, but I just… my dad isn’t going to come home tonight, a-and I know Cicero isn’t going to like… just appear at my place but I-I, I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

CH1 Prev Next Master List

Chapter 16 Round Two

The week following Leandra’s and Bruno’s talk by the river had been a good one. He had finished Sense and Sensibility and they had discussed it at length on Tuesday, then he wrote another story and brought it to her stall to share it on Thursday. Friday he had a migraine, and she had taken the risk of rubbing his back in a show of sympathy.

He didn’t protest so she had offered him some of her food at lunch, which he nibbled on, then complained about how his mother had made his favorite for breakfast but he hadn’t been able to enjoy it because of his migraine.

Eventually, she’d given him a hug and sent him home, pointing out there wasn’t much Cicero could do to her in a crowded market. He’d hummed thoughtfully and she knew he was adding the statement to his list of clues.

It was almost funny the lengths Bruno would go to, to avoid a difficult conversation. Almost.

He had made it three steps from her stall, when a vision had burst into his head with little thought for his migraine. Leandra had vaulted over her counter and caught him when he’d started to droop. They waited out the vision, a glimpse of the play at that year’s harvest festival, then Bruno had returned home and collapsed into bed.

Cicero had approached her in Bruno’s absence. Leche had refused to let him into the cheese stall, but that didn’t stop the cabrón from plopping his ass on her counter top.

Now she would have to deep clean it.

Convincing him she was oblivious to what was happening hadn’t been hard, he was already convinced he was the smartest, most clever, most special person ever. She had just asked if something had happened between him and Pepa she didn’t know about. He had calmly spun a story about Pepa being an insane, obsessive ex.

Apparently, his father was now insisting he spent four days a week helping at the winery. Something Cicero felt was incredibly unfair. Leandra, who did everything she could to reduce her own father’s workload, struggled to feign polite sympathy.

“Anyways, the point is, I’m free today, Sunday, and Wednesday, you know, if you want to spend time together,” he had said, with a charming smile and a thin attempt at seeming shy.

Leandra had hemmed and hawed but hadn’t been able to come up with an excuse not to see him on Wednesday.

So, here they were, Wednesday afternoon, strolling through town. She had tried to keep her distance, but that just resulted in Cicero putting his hand on the small of her back, so she put her arm through his.

“I mean,” Cicero was saying, “it’s not like he doesn’t have plenty of workers. I don’t see what he needs me for.”

“Maybe he’s trying to get you ready to take over the family business,” Leandra suggested with a shrug.

“I suppose,” he sighed, shaking his head, “we are the town’s only winery, we do have quite a bit of responsibility to our community.”

She bit her lip to keep from making a snarky comment, Cicero eyed her mouth.

“You have beautiful lips, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Sí,” she gestured over her shoulder, “Señora Sanchez said that the last time I borrowed a book from her.”

“Oh,” he was briefly thrown, but didn’t let it stop him for long, “do you ever get bored of the market? You spend so much time here. Perhaps we should stroll by the river instead, or, I could show you around the winery.”

Uh-oh, he was suggesting a secondary location, “That sounds fun, but… I’m a little thirsty, how about we go grab some juice? Maybe a snack? You can tell me about that plan for the harvest festival you mentioned.”

“Oh! It’s going to be brilliant, I only have to convince my father,” Cicero jumped on the subject and she breathed a sigh of relief as he began pulling her to the nearest cafe.

The great thing about men like Cicero, was that they could talk about themselves for hours without a young woman being forced to come up with a response. It was exactly the reason she’d never found him that attractive, but she now considered it a blessing. Even better, when he spotted a friend of his, he called the other man over and soon Leandra was little more than decoration as the two men laughed together.

She feigned interest in the things the men said, but otherwise spent the time running through a mental to-do list or thinking up gift ideas for Rosalie’s birthday.

Bruno’s birthday was a few months away, she would have to start thinking about what to get him. Not to mention his sisters-.

The men laughed and she laughed along so they wouldn’t notice she’d stopped paying attention.

-but they were a bit easier to shop for. Pepa was always decorating her red curls with scarves and clips, so a set of new ribbons should be a good gift. Julieta had once confessed that it never felt like she had enough aprons, so a new one of those was a safe bet. But Bruno…

“Right princessa?!” Cicero asked, clapping a hand on her shoulder. He had a broad smile on his face.

“Oh, definitely,” she nodded, smiling back.

“I don’t know,” the other man (what was his name, started with a “J”) shook his head, “I think poker takes way more skill.”

Anyways.

But Bruno wasn’t big on worldly possessions. He liked books, sure, but the merchants of Encanto only made the journey to trade with the outside world twice a year, and they wouldn’t be leaving until after Bruno’s birthday. She’d have to buy some books from them then and stockpile them for future birthdays.

Food? Could she get him food? No. His sister was the best cook in town. Food was a nice gesture in the day to day, but it wouldn’t make an exciting birthday gift.

Maybe she could make him something, although the only things she knew how to make from scratch were soap and cheese. She wasn’t bad at sewing, but she wasn’t exactly a tailor.

“Joder,” Cicero suddenly swore, “is the sun setting already?”

Leandra looked up at the orange tinted sky, and nodded as Cicero’s friend made a snarky comment about watching the time.

“My father, I don’t know what his problem is lately, but he insists that I must be back by nightfall,” Cicero scowled, “I’m afraid I must go.”

“Oh, alright,” Leandra said brightly, “wouldn’t want you to get in trouble with your father because of us.”

“I might,” the guy whose name started with a “J” joked, as he stood from his seat and started to walk away.

Cicero grinned at him and shook his head, even as he waved his friend off, “I’ll see you Friday. Princessa, would you like to come back to the winery with me? My mother is making enchiladas for dinner.”

“Oh, I uh, I wish I could, but my Pá is coming home from the far mountain just to have dinner with me,” this was a lie, she was going to be alone that night. Her Pá was showing his apprentice what fields were open for public use. Getting the goats from their fields to the public fields on the other side of the valley without driving them through anyone else’s land took all day, and her father wanted to stay the night with them and his new apprentice. The boy was young and still in school. He could watch the goats on the weekend, but his parents preferred that her father stay with him when he did.

“Then I suppose this is where we say goodbye,” Cicero sighed, then before Leandra could do anything, he swooped in and kissed her. She froze.

Thankfully, it didn’t last long. He pulled back with a soft smile, tucked a hair behind her ear, then stood.

“Adios princessa,” he said, sweetly.

“Adios,” she managed.

She watched him go, fingers shaking. Eventually, when she was sure he was gone, she also stood and began walking. Not in any particular direction, she just needed to move.

The sun was setting fast and suddenly she didn’t feel safe being out alone at night. She gripped her hands in her skirt and looked around, feeling briefly lost. 

The solution came to Leandra all at once, like a firework bursting in her head.

Determinedly, she turned towards Casita. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be interrupting their dinner. She just… she needed to see Bruno.

Casita waved a shutter at her as she approached, she waved back and asked, “I wouldn’t be barging in on their dinner if I came in right now, would I?”

Casita opened the door in answer and she decided she would have to risk it. The house was silent except for the sound of pots and pans being moved about in the kitchen. She took a few hesitant step towards the sound then paused.

“Is… is Bruno in?” she directed the question at the floor tiles, which clattered a path towards the stairs. When she followed them and walked up the stairs, the clattering continued right up to Bruno’s door.

“Gracias Casita,” she sighed, walking quickly. 

Bruno’s visage stared back at her from the glowing door, and even though it looked utterly fearsome, she found it incredibly comforting. She was careful not to knock on his face and instead knocked beside it.

She waited.

Casita merrily shook a potted plant back and forth.

Eventually the door knob turned and Door Bruno’s scowl was replaced by real Bruno’s curious eyes. He blinked at her in surprise when he saw her there, but didn’t seem displeased.

“Hey,” she smiled at him a bit nervously, “Is- may I come in?”

“Claro,” he moved aside, waving her in, “I-I wasn’t expecting you. I thought…?”

She had told him about her plans with Cicero, and had talked him down from following them. Something that she both regretted and was relieved about. She had no idea how Bruno would have responded if he’d seen Cicero kiss her.

Was she one of the few people he cared about enough to get genuinely angry on their behalf? And what would he have done if she was? Bruno’s temper was so rare and hard to ignite, it made him unpredictable.

“Yeah, it- we- I didn’t get any useful information out of him,” she confessed, walking into Bruno’s entryway, she eyed the hourglass shaped opening and the curtain of falling sand, “although I now know for certain that his father has tightened the leash on him. So I guess that’s good.”

“Are you alright?” he was looking at her hands, which were once again tangled in her skirt.

Leandra gulped, she opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, then admitted, “He kissed me.”

“What?!”

“It happened so fast, we were saying our goodbyes and suddenly he just swooped in, no warning, and- and- yeah,” she used both hands to sweep her hair back from her face as she started to pace, “it was only a peck, really, but I just… my dad isn’t going to come home tonight, a-and I know Cicero isn’t going to like… just appear at my place but I-I, I don’t really want to be alone right now.”

Bruno took a step closer to her, arms coming up before he second guessed himself, he wasn't sure if they were there yet.

Leandra didn't give him a chance to put his arms back down. She didn’t give a flying fuck if they were there yet, she needed a hug. She dove into him, wrapping herself around his waist and ducking her head into his shoulder.

“Can I stay here? Just for a little,” her voice was muffled by his shoulder.

He nodded before she even finished asking, “Sí, sí, as long as you need. Mamá is having dinner with Señora Guzman tonight, so we’ve invited Agustín and Félix over. You can join too. It’ll be like a party. Except better, because it’s just people we already know, wh-which I think is better.”

Leandra smiled, “I would like that.”

“Great, I’ll um, I’ll let Julieta know,” he slowly loosened his grip on her and she let him, “if um, if you’d like to… I’ll show you my tent.”

“Your tent?”

“Well, you didn’t think I slept in my vision cave, did you?”

“Meh, sort of, there’s actually a lot of debate about it in town,” she followed him as the sand curtain parted for them, “nobody who’s been in here has ever noticed a bed or anything so some people think you don’t sleep.”

Bruno snorted, “They’re not completely wrong. Julieta’s food is the only thing keeping my eye bags at bay.”

When they got to the bottom of the stairs he turned right around to face the sand curtain again. She watched the sand hit the ground, and apparently disappear instead of piling up. The curtain parted again, revealing a cave under the stairs.

Bruno waved her in and gestured to the tent, “There’s a couple places to sit in there, it’s k-kind of a mess but…”

“You’re showing me your private tent in a secret cave in your magic room in a sentient house,” she pointed out, “I can’t imagine how snobby a person would have to be to turn up their nose because it’s a bit messy.”

He smiled and held the flap open for her. She walked in a couple steps then paused when she noticed the rats playing tag on his bed.

He chuckled nervously, “O-oh that’s Turnip and Carrot, they- well they’re two of- they won’t bother you if you ignore them.”

“They’re cute,” she said, reassuringly, “how do they do with strangers?”

“I uh I don’t know, I’ve never introduced them to anyone before,” he rubbed at his arm.

“Alright, then I won’t push them,” she walked over to the comfy looking pile of cushions and curled up on it, “although I certainly wouldn’t mind having a furry companion at the moment.”

“W-Well if you want- I mean I could help them get used to you, if that’s what you want,” he had a large grin on his face, then he paused and said, “Oh! Wait, I need to go tell Juli- I’ll be right back, th-then we can-, you can meet them.”

Leandra watched him hurry off with a smile on her face. Just being around him made her feel better. And she liked his tent, messy as it was, it was cozy. The cloth walls of the octagonal tent were a cheerful green, and there were some beautifully decorated lamps in four of the eight corners that cast a warm glow on the interior. The rats playing on the bed somehow added to the cozy mood, although she couldn’t quite say how.

She leaned back against the large pile, so she was curled a little sideways and could watch the rats chase eachother in circles. Eventually, one of the rats fell off the bed, catching itself on the bedspread then jumping onto the ground, and she giggled. It looked over at her, whiskers twitching curiously. 

Leandra wiggled her fingers at it.

The rat approached her slowly, pausing every few feet to eye her. She remained as still as she could and waited. When it reached the cushions it dove into the pile instead of walking over it. A couple minutes later, a tiny snout appeared next to her hand and sniffed her.

The rat popped its head out of the cushions, and when she didn’t react, climbed onto her hand.

“Hola,” she said, very softly, “are you Turnip or Carrot?”

The rat didn’t respond other than to climb up her arm until it reached the sleeve of her blouse. It tried to duck into her shirt but she held the sleeve down with her other hand.

“Sorry, I promised Bruno we wouldn’t go to third base,” she told the rat.

“And I appreciate you keeping that promise,” Bruno chuckled, reappearing through the tent flap, “that one is Carrot.”

“Hola Carrot,” she greeted the rat that was now on her shoulder, sniffing her face.

“She’s always been a brave one,” Bruno walked over to the bed and collected Turnip then joined her on the cushion pile.

“Are they both girls?”

“Heh, sí, you would uh, you would notice if they were male,” he held Turnip up to her hand and they both waited as Turnip sniffed her.

Carrot spotted her friend and ran down Leandra’s arm to tackle Turnip. Turnip squeaked as she was unceremoniously shoved out of Bruno’s hand, then jumped up to chase after Carrot. The two rats raced off, and for a while Bruno and Leandra just watched them.

“They really are cute,” she muttered, scooting a little bit closer to Bruno, “you said you have two boys as well?”

He nodded, smiling, “I- yeah, Shoe and Tire.”

“How did you pick these names?”

“The girls are named after what they were eating when I found them, boys after what they were hiding behind,” he admitted.

She snorted, “I see. So, where’re Shoe and Tire?”

“Oh, did you see the chicken coop by the cave’s entrance?”

“That’s where you keep them?”

“Well, when it’s not their turn to wander the cave,” he shrugged, “the rats really like it in there. I’m thinking of getting another that I can leave open.”

Leandra smiled at him fondly, “You are such a sweet man.”

“Wh- am I?”

“Yeah, I mean… you found some rats, you know little animals that most people try to avoid, and you took them in. Gave them a home, you take care of them,” she shrugged, “it’s sweet.”

Bruno blushed and shrugged, wringing his fingers, “Well I don’t know about that I… I like rats. They have tiny hands for grabbing things. A-and they’re way smarter than most people realize.”

“Do they get treats?”

“They do, although you have to be careful, I-I don’t want to give them anything that’ll hurt them,” he gestured over at the bedside drawer, “I keep some dried fruit, nuts, and stuff in there for them.”

“Can I give them treats? Before I leave I mean.”

Bruno gave her a wide toothy grin, eyes alight with excitement, “If you want.”

“I do.”

“Great! That- they’ll like that.”

She smiled and nodded and settled into silence. The thought of Cicero kissing her creeped in and she grimaced. His lips should have felt… slimy, they should have felt like itchy wool, or stinging nettles, but they had just felt like lips. Slightly chapped, and very unwelcome, but just lips.

“You alright?” Bruno asked.

She debated brushing it off, shoving it from her mind, but ultimately elected to scooch even closer to him, so she could lay her head on his shoulder, “Not really.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know why, but I sort of assumed we would have come up with some brilliant plan to keep him from being a massive pervert by now,” she sighed, “I’m not saying I’m backing down. I don’t think that’s even really an option now that I have his attention. I just… I just don’t feel safe. I don’t think I will until this is all over.”

Bruno didn’t say anything at first, he didn’t know what could possibly be said to that. He wrapped an arm around her back and felt somewhat gratified when she pressed herself against him, seeking the comfort he wasn’t sure how to give.

“Is all this… really necessary? There’s no other way to stop him?” 

She shook her head against his shoulder, “None that we could think of. Well, we could kill him, but that would create as many problems as it solves.”

Bruno snorted. Suddenly he remembered Pepa asking him if he would help her hide a body on the night of the quiceñeara. This must have been what she meant. Cicero was making himself enough of a nuisance that people’s lives would be easier if he was dead.

Reina sighed again. He leaned his cheek against the crown of her head, trying his best to ignore how soft her hair was.

Now was not the time to think about how attractive she was. She needed comfort, not more perving.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening with all this,” she murmured after they’d been sitting in silence for a while.

“No, no, I- anything I can do,” he hesitantly reached across their laps and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.

She squeezed it back, “Being around you makes me feel better.”

Bruno closed his eyes and reminded himself that he needed to be very, very normal about the things she said. Don’t look too deeply into it, he told himself, she said she wants to be friends. Friends. Friends turn to each other for comfort. This was normal.

She smelled good.

Damn it.

He opened his eyes and looked around his tent for something to distract himself from the woman pressed to his side. He turned towards the bookshelf and in doing so accidentally pressed his face into her hair.

Was that lavender? She must have been using it in her latest batch of soap.

He scowled at himself. He was not being normal about this. Maybe he could extract himself from her, give her some space. A little bit of space was all he needed. Probably.

Then Reina hummed thoughtfully and said, “I'm not making you uncomfortable, right? This is helping, but you don’t ha-..”

“Is- it’s- great, terrific, h-happy to help,” he tried to make his voice as chipper as possible. Hopefully she would write his stuttering off as his usual difficulty getting a coherent sentence out.

“Yeah,” she said faintly, “we should hug more.”

“Sí por favor. I-I mean, if that’s- if you’re comfortable with that,” he gulped.

“Mh-hm, of course,” she breathed, “I trust you Bruno.”

Bruno bit his lip, surprised by the way that sentence affected him. He expected the rush of warmth that filled his chest, but not the excited shiver that ran up his spine. Dios, what was the matter with him?

“I was thinking earlier.”

“O-oh?” he tried to cross his toes in hopes that would somehow grant the luck he needed if she said something else that affected him in ways he didn’t expect. Maybe she’d like to tell him how much she liked his eyes, or how soft his bed looked.

“Your birthday is in a few months,” she began playing with his hand.

“Oh.”

“What do you want?”

Well, off the top of his head, he’d love it if she started flirting with him again, or maybe straddled him while they made out, either one. Of course, he couldn’t say that. Because friends. 

He hemmed and hawed for a little.

“Maybe something for my rats?” he eventually said, “They always need more chew toys.”

“Chew toys?”

“Sí, to keep their teeth healthy.”

“Huh, ok, noted. But are you sure you don’t want anything for yourself?”

He stared down at their joined hands, watching her tap her thumb across each of his fingers and back again, “The soap.”

“The soap? You’ll have to be more specific, I sell five different kinds.”

“Th-the one you put in the thank you basket, when I gave you that vision? About your goats? I… I really liked it, the scent I mean, but- but I noticed you don’t sell it,” he explained.

“Oh, that stuff?” she wrinkled her nose, “That was the first batch of soap I ever made, it was totally amateur.”

“I liked it,” he shrugged the shoulder she wasn’t resting on.

“Hmm, I’ll have to check to see if I still have the recipe,” she muttered, “I’m pretty sure I used a little too much honey in that batch… was it a mint scent?”

“I-I think so?” He wasn’t the best at identifying all the different herbs and spices by scent alone, “It was sharp and earthy, but also a little sweet.”

She made another thoughtful noise, thumb tapping out a pattern on the knuckle of his ring finger. Slowly, Bruno gave in to the temptation to turn his head again.

“What uh- what do you use? For yours?”

“Oh, like what do I use for my own personal soap?”

“Sí.”

“Lavender, jasmine, and of course honey,” she ticked them off against his palm, “I like floral scents. And honey is just a good ingredient for soap over all, it’s moisturizing and very cleansing. It means adjusting how much lye you use, but it’s worth it.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know why he’d asked, he was just glad she wasn’t offended by the question. Still, he filed the information away. Lavender, jasmine, and honey. Like a sweet herbal tea. He let his eyes slide shut and he just breathed her in for a little.

She yawned, and her thumb stilled. For a second it seemed she was going to fall asleep cuddled against him. He immediately decided that if she did, he would put her in the bed and set up a hammock for himself outside the tent.

A knock echoed through the canyon, making her jump, then Pepa’s voice rang out, “Dinner time!”

“Dinner time,” he repeated, softly.

She sat up, stretched, then nodded and agreed, “Dinner time.”

Agustín and Félix were helping to set the dining room table when they got there and they greeted Bruno and Leandra with gusto. Agustín waited until Bruno was distracted by Félix then waggled his eyebrows at Leandra obnoxiously.

She stuck her tongue out at him and announced she was going to help Julieta carry things from the kitchen.

Pepa was already in there, giggling with Julieta about Félix and Leandra took the time to pass on some interesting information Felipe had told her. Félix had been talking about Pepa nonstop, to the point of annoying his younger brother. This just encouraged the giggling, right up until the man in question appeared to lend his hand as well.

Julieta, Leandra, Bruno, and Agustín all exchanged knowing looks and mischievous grins as they conspired to ensure that Pepa and Félix were sat together at the table. Julieta updated Agustín on Félix’s confirmed interest and he snarkily made a toast to “Family: past, present, and future” which pulled giggles from the assembled women and an eye roll from Félix.

Soon the night was filled with good food, laughter, and a few hints of flirting. By the time dinner was over, drinks were drained, and Bruno’s rats had been given treats by all three guests, Leandra was feeling better.

Nonetheless, when Alma arrived and insisted Bruno walk her home, she accepted. And of course, she had to invite him in for a warm drink before he made the journey back down the mountain. 

One cup of tea turned into three and a half as the conversation lingered on.

When Bruno got home just before sunrise he found Pepa and Félix curled up together over a book. The two triplets made eye contact and silently negotiated a peace treaty. Bruno wouldn’t tease her about staying up with Félix, if she didn’t tease him about staying out with Leandra. Julieta, on the other hand, had no problem teasing either of her siblings as they chugged coffee the morning after.

Right up until Bruno caught Agustín slipping out the back that is.

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Bruno Bavota & Chantal Acda

Photo by Cath Van Laere

A Closer Distance, the new collaborative record by composer Bruno Bavota and singer-songwriter Chantal Acda, happened under the now-typical circumstance of long-distance remote creation. What was originally imaged as a small EP blossomed into a full album, with both parties finding the process “weirdly natural” (to quote Acda). Dusted’s Ian Mathers calls the result “the kind of record where its sparseness and concision feel like products of intense focus and care, both for the sounds produced and the people who might hear them.” The two artists have split this Listed between them, with each selecting five records that are important to them.

Bruno Bavota Picks

I'm picking music that had a real impact in my life before I became a musician. I started playing piano at 26 years old and before that I started playing acoustic guitar at 24 years old. Music has had a great impact in my life filling a big emptiness I felt during the beginning of university (18 years old) to my twenty-sixth year. This is really a selection that helped me a lot and as I’ve always said, music saved my life. This is also a music selection for things we lost.

Damien Rice — O

2004. I was in a car with one of my dearest friends. We were parking and the radio started playing “Cannonball” by Damien Rice. It was in the afternoon, a very strange hour to listen to this kind of track on the radio programs. I was 20 years old and that is the exact moment when music came into my life. Before that I didn't properly listen to music — it wasn't part of my life. I went to the music shop and bought the album that kept me company for the whole year, changing my feelings as a human being.

Nick Drake — Pink Moon

I really don't know how to start talking about this. After I discovered the album by Damien Rice, the guys from the music shop told me “Bruno, If you like folk, singer-songwriters you should listen to Nick Drake, who probably inspired all the current songwriters scene.” I never heard about him before and I bought Pink Moon at face value. When I went back home and put this album on my home-stereo I understood, not immediately I have to say, how powerful this album is. I’ve listened a thousand times to “Pink Moon,” “Place to Be” and “Things Behind the Sun”.

Balmorhea — All Is Wild, All Is Silent

This is home for me. I remember exactly the day when I discovered them. I was just surfing around on YouTube and then there was the “suggested for you” feature that worked really well before losing everything with the explosion of the digital era. The track I heard literally blew me away. It was something that I was looking for but never found. This album has always been a safe place for me and I always return to this album. I played “Settler” at my wedding.

Antony and the Johnsons — I Am a Bird Now

This is the time where I discovered new music at the music shop. In my town Napoli we used to have a very nice music store with wonderful staff that always suggested A LOT of wonderful music to me. I always trusted them and one day I came into the music shop and they called me. “Hey Bruno, I think you're gonna like this.” I put my headphones on and “Hope There's Someone” started. The right song and the right time — I was probably also hoping that there will be someone for me.

Micah P. Hinson and The Gospel Of Progress

I clearly remember when I saw him live for the first time in my hometown Napoli (South Italy) playing this album live. As I said, I picked music for the things that we lost and the place where this concert took place is gone. The concert was so intense and it was really for a few people in the audience and I still keep those memories. A really beautiful album.

Chantal Acda Picks

Music has always been a huge part of my life growing up, with a dad who was obsessed with pop music and a mother who was an opera singer. I always felt a bit weird within the kids in my school. But music gave me a safe haven and that actually never changed. It’s not what I choose to do. It happened and it makes me breathe.

Joni Mitchell — Blue

I refused to sing until I was 16 years old. I was quite an intense teenager and because of that I wanted to do what my mother did not! I also spent a lot of time surrounded by horses. A totally different world, but still the combination in my life that works best. My mum was often teaching in my house. In the room next door. I fell asleep with people singing. At a certain moment I took my guitar and started humming a bit. Someone waiting in the hallway heard me, drove home and took this record with her for me. I totally loved it. The stunning combination between melody, craft and depth really inspired me to start singing.

Nils Frahm — Felt

I love this record in so many ways. The sound of this record is just breathtaking. That on top of the choice in melody really sticks with me. I can listen to this album any moment of the day. Nils got on stage with me 10 years ago in Paris and we instantly connected. We decided that he would be the one recording my first real solo album. I had the best time. We were like two kids in a candy store. He put me in his strength. I guess we are both intense people. Both putting music first always. I will never forget what he did for me.

Amenra — Mass IV

Might sound like a weird choice for me. This is loud music. I play very slow music most of the time. But if there is a band I feel really connected to it's Amenra. Their music and being is all about connecting earth with all that’s above. Their approach is vertical in that way. Like mine. We both go for total surrender. To the music, to the energy and to each other. I don't think in genres or styles. I only think music. And they really touch me very, very deeply.

Kae Tempest — The Book of Traps and Lessons

What to say about Kae. How to love somebody you have never met. They are capable of changing people. Their words are reaching the bottom of my heart. They can break me and be soothing at the same time. They are impressive in being vulnerable and the biggest strength in one split second. Intensity. Depth. Realness. Truth. I saw them live once. The room shifted. Nothing felt the same anymore. The song “People's Faces” is not just beautiful but above all necessary. We need it. I need it and I will never be able to listen to this without tearing up.

dEUS — The Ideal Crash

The band that made me move to Belgium 22 years ago. This Antwerp band has been a part of my life since I was 16 years old and I followed them everywhere. They are exciting, different, edgy but soft at the same time. This record is full of beautiful songs. Great guitar parts. I know it by heart. I sing it when I am alone. It's my ideal crash.

[writing-fanics]

• ( Bruno Madrigal x Fem!Reader ) •

(We don’t talk about Bruno. Is the best song in this movie)

Chico crawled on the floor his tiny hands hitting each tile, as he did so. He looked so much like his father and mother, he babbled nonsense and cooed. But his mother could only see his father Bruno in his eyes.

(Y/n) smiled, picking up her child and cradling him in her arms. Kissing the baby and blowing raspberries on their cheek, causing Chico to giggle. His eyes lit up, “I wish Bruno was here to see you.” She said, bringing a finger to his face.

Chico grabbed it and sucked on it. She cooed in awe staring at her child, “Mi pequeño.” She whispered. Rocking the child in her arms while humming a sweet melody, to soothe the child to sleep.

Walking towards the window staring out it, looking out at the night sky. Wishing her husband was here with her to help care for their child. Chico whimpered, balling just hands into a fist and crying.

“Shh, your okay. Your mamá is here.” She soothed. Rubbing her child’s back a he cried, sitting on her and Bruno’s once shared bed. “I know you miss papá. I do too.” She soothed. As she sat on the bed her eyes began to droop, struggling to stay open.

Shaking her head to jolt herself awake, letting out a soft yawn she rocked Chico in her arms. Casita even playing some lullaby music on the record player. But nothing seemed to help, placing him into the cradle.

He just cried and cried, his face bright red and hands balled into a fist. Casita used the tiles to gently rock the child, “Thank you, Casita for helping.” She said, trying to sooth her child. It wasn’t until a rat scurried into the room.

“What the?” She exclaimed quietly. Watching as the rat climbed into the crib. Chittering and then Chico calmed down, and fell asleep the rat sleeping on his stomach.

She didn’t have anything against rats but whatever kept. Him quiet so she’d get some sleep she didn’t care. She sighed, laying on the bed.

Staring at the wedding ring on her finger, fiddling with it as tears brimmed her eyes. “Where’d you go mi amor?” She whispered. Wiping away the tears in her eyes.

She loved being apart of the Madrigal family. But hated how they would always focus on the negatives of Bruno’s powers. If it wasn’t for Bruno’s powers she wouldn’t of met him at all. You tell someone their fish dies and you blame them for the fish dying.

Despite everything she knew he loved his family more than anything. But… Why did he leave?! Why did he leave her and their son?!

“I miss him Casita, more than anything.” She sighed, turning to the spot where he used to sleep. She missed cuddling with him and hearing his voice, kissing his big nose. And hearing how excited he was to be a father.

Now he isn’t here having left the family, after being labeled the ‘black sheep’ of the family due to his powers.

His name now becoming taboo, her own husbands name being taboo. She was livid, she’d still walk around the house mumbling his name under her breath and only Dolores picking up on it.

And the down side of it all, kids in the village. Some people wouldn’t even talk to (Y/n) because she married him. Some parents didn’t want their child to play with Chico. Some nights she’d just cry and cry, she doesn’t regret marrying Bruno.

She just wish she stood up for him more, telling everyone in the village he isn’t bad. He’s just telling people his premonition and what happens is the future, something that’s out of his control.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she gripped, the photo of her and Bruno on their wedding day. She whimpered softly to not wake up her child, nuzzling her head into the pillow.

(Ten Years Later)

Chico giggled as he played with his cousin, Antonio. Her son was growing up too fast and she still wished Bruno was here to witness it. To watch their son move out of the nursery and get a gift, a gift of time manipulation.

Which of course being something powerful, some village kids kept their distance. But Chico looked like a carbon copy of his father. 95% is his fathers looks and 5% is (Y/n). Bruno watched through the walls, seeing his son with a gift. Seeing how grown up he’s become completely melted his heart. He wished he’d had the guts to leave the walls and go give his wife a kiss and hug his son.

Also so much was happening in the family. The magic possibly dying. Mirabel needing to find Bruno to ask about his visions and why she’s in it.

But of course her family didn’t even wanna mention his name, ‘We don’t talk about Bruno, no no no.’ (Y/n) only had sweet things to sing about her husband, ‘We should talk about Bruno no, no, no,’ she sang.

Chico didn’t know much about his father only things his mother told him. And other things some village bullies told him about his father. But all Chico had was good thoughts about his father. Despite what people have said/sung about him.

“Your tío Bruno could see into the future yes.” (Y/n) said, looking at Maribel. Letting out a sigh and looking at the vision, “I-I wish I knew where he was.” She sighed.

“So you could talk to him about this, and I-I could see my husband again.” She shook her head, and placed her hand on Mirabel’s cheek.

“I’m sure you’ll find away to figure this out. Your so strong Mirabel, you just don’t see it yet.” She said, smiling. “Sorry I couldn’t help more.” She said, giving her a warm smile.

After Mirabel left (Y/n)’s room. (Y/n) laid on her bed letting out a weary sigh, tears welling up her eyes. It’s been ten years since she last saw her husband, and all she wanted was to just see him again. He’s missed so much of Chico’s life. Countless birthdays, his gift ceremony.

But it wasn’t until casita collapsed, and when everyone in the village came to help rebuild. She saw him again dropping hammer in her hands, and running towards him. He thought she was going to hug him but nope. She grabbed him roughly by the ear, “Hey! You know how worried I was?! Leaving me to raise Chico while you lived behind the wall?!” She exclaimed.

“Also, Dolores why didn’t you say something?” (Y/n) exclaimed. She pursed her lips tugging at Bruno’s ear she wasn’t angry at all, just frustrated slightly but relief that her husband is back in her life. Even though he never left.

“You could’ve at least told me or Chico.” She frowned. Tears brimming her eyes letting go of his ear. Wrapping her arms around him, and kissing him on the lips. Chico ran towards his father giving him a hug as well.

“Papá, I’m glad your back.” Chico exclaimed. Bruno would never leave his family again, especially not his wife nor his son.

(Just imagine: Bruno being too scared to leave the walls to talk to his son and having to watch him grow up from inside the walls.)

……. Bonus …..

(Y/n) smiled, watching as Carina braided her fathers curly hair. “Mamá, l-look I’m doing papá’s hair!” Carina exclaimed, her tiny hands doing their best at braiding. Bruno was having the best time of his life, spending time with his five year old as they did his hair.

“Papá’s gonna do my hair after.” She said, looking down at his hair. “Right papá.” She asked, and he nodded smiling. (Y/n) couldn’t help but chuckle and kiss her husband on the lips and her daughter on the forehead watching as they spent time together.

[breannasfluff]

El Ratón Pérez

Written for @usedtobeguest123's #El Ratoncito Pérez prompt! The toothfairy in Colombia is a mouse (or rat, in this case). Antonio has some thoughts to address with Bruno about this story.

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

“We have a big problem.”

Antonio’s serious voice is not what Bruno is expecting during his reading time. Then again, reading time involves lying in a hammock, eyes closed, with a book tented on his chest. Not napping. Just resting.

It takes a long moment for Bruno to peel his eyes open from his…rest and focus on Antonio.

The little boy waits patiently, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“Toñito? Something wrong?” Bruno clears his throat and blinks a few more times, trying to kickstart his brain.

“Something is very wrong!”

This incites action, the tone penetrating through the last vestiges of sleep. Bruno swings his legs out of the hammock to the cool tiles, leaning forward to examine his youngest sobrino. “Are you hurt?”

“Nu-uh. But I heard a bad thing in town.” Antonio’s eyes are wide.

Miércoles. What could he be asking about? Something about Bruno’s visions? Something not fit for the ears of a five-year-old? What if he asked about…adult relationships? Ay, he didn’t want to have to explain it. Antonio should go to Pepa, or Félix or…anyone but him.

“What did you—hear?” It comes out strained and Bruno swallows hard. Dread mounts with every second Antonio doesn’t respond.

“Gabrio said el ratón Pérez isn’t real!” The statement is incongruous with the seriousness of the delivery.

After the immediate wash of relief—no adult entanglements to explain—Bruno firms his lips to keep from laughing. “Ah—ah. Pérez. I’ve heard the story. The mouse who collects teeth in exchange for a little present, right?”

Antonio nods and moves forward, pushing on Bruno’s knees. It causes the hammock to rock. “I know it’s a mouse but…you have rats!”

“Sí?”

He pushes harder. “I can talk to animals!”

Bruno plants his feet into the tiles to keep from knocking the boy over on the swing back. “Ah…and?”

Antonio gives up on the pushing and starts climbing into Bruno’s lap.

He winces at the small fists grabbing skin along with pants fabric and scoops Antonio to sit in his lap. One foot pushes on the floor, setting them rocking.

“We could make sure the story is true, tío. I can talk to the rats and they can collect teeth. Then Gabrio can’t say it’s not true.”

“But…” Bruno’s pretty sure the content of the conversation precludes Antonio from believing as well, but he's careful anyway. “It, ah, well…he’d only have proof if we, um, made it—true?”

Antonio huffs and thumps his head back into Bruno’s chest. “I know it’s not real. But Gabrio doesn’t, not really. And lots of other kids don’t.” He twists, turning shining eyes up to Bruno. “We could make it true for them!”

“Um, hmm.” Bruno tries to mentally estimate the number of children in the Encanto, the number of teeth they’d lose, and the logistics of sending rats into houses. “Um. It’s an…interesting idea? How do you think it would work?”

Resettling, Antonio reaches to play with the edge of Bruno’s ruana. “You don’t have that many rats. So, we can’t get all the teeth.”

He tries to keep the sigh of relief subtle.

“But as long as some kids see Pérez, the rest will think it’s true.”

“That’s—not a bad idea, kid. As long as it’s a few. Sometimes. Maybe.”

“Pérez can’t be seen all the time! Do you think the rats would help?”

Bruno runs a hand over Antonio’s curls as he thinks. “You’d have to ask them nicely. And explain what they’d be doing. Um, it might be better to do it at a house where the parents give us permission? I don’t want to send the rats across the Encanto alone.”

“I’ll make sure nothing eats them!”

“Ah…yeah. No eating.” The thought of hungry animals joins worries of long distances for small paws. “We can let a rat out by the house?”

The head beneath his hand bobs. “We can give the rats a little candy to leave. Something light, so it’s not hard to carry. I can ask Gabrio’s parents if it's okay?”

“You need to ask the rats, first,” Bruno says. “If they aren’t up for it, lo siento, but I gotta say no, okay?”

Antonio nods. “Animals come first!” He never pushes his new friends, even for his own goals. He squirms until Bruno sets him back on the ground. “Oh! Pérez needs an outfit!”

“Dios mío.” Bruno’s head sinks into his hands at the thought of his poor rats dressed up. “What does Pérez wear?”

“Um…” Antonio tips his head in thought. “The book had a picture. A hat! And glasses, and a jacket, and little pants, and he had a bag for the tooth!”

Each article of clothing causes Bruno to sink further into the hammock. “Does he need…clothes? Isn’t it enough to be a rat?”

“Then he’s just a rat!” One foot taps the ground; not a stamp, but a firm refusal. “He needs something.”

Bruno thinks of his rat’s personalities and mentally compares clothing items to temperaments. “What about a hat. Just the hat. Mirabel could make it?”

“And a cape,” Antonio bargains.

“Only if the rats say yes.” He feels like he’s been played, somehow, despite being the adult in the situation. But Antonio glows with excitement and Bruno’s weak for five-year-old sobrinos he’s spent little time with. “Antonio…”

“Sí?” He turns back, a few steps into his quest to find the rats.

“Why is it so important that Gabrio and the others believe in el ratón Pérez?”

The curly head tips, dark eyes boring into Bruno’s. “Everyone deserves some magic.” Then he’s off again, calling for the rats.

Bruno sits back in the hammock, slightly stunned at the statement. It’s too deep for a child. Or maybe, because he’s a child, Antonio’s able to see what adults can’t.

Everyone deserves some magic, whether it comes in the form of rats and mice or miracles and Casitas.

Bruno smiles and heaves himself out of the hammock. Mirabel has a tiny hat to sew.

[fawkesthephoenix394]

Bruno Madrigal

GO WATCH ENCANTO!!! ITS AMAZING.

So, I can’t stop singing “We Don’t Talk About Bruno”… it’s officially my favourite song….

BUT WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT BRUNO!!! Because guess what my people!?!!!! Bruno Madrigal was in fact, THE TROUBLEMAKER CHILD.

I’ve seen so many posts depicting Bruno as being reserved, awkward, and distanced from the family even before Mirabel’s prophecy, but, like, and I mean pre- and post- gift ceremony, I don’t think Bruno was reserved or anything like that.

Let me explain…

“Bruno walks in with a mischievous grin”

Now, obvs this is supposed to be seen as menacing, to show him as evil, but later, once Bruno reunites with the fam, he sings:

“Pepa, I’m sorry ‘bout your wedding, didn’t mean to be upsetting

That wasn’t a prophecy, I could just see you were sweating”

So he wasn’t saying a prophecy, he was just trying to lighten the mood… with a mischievous grin, while full-well knowing she could control the weather.

Sound familiar to anyone? The brother who tries to cheer you up with their funny antics, the one who can never be serious, who’s the comic relief of the family, who is always causing mischief?

That’s right, Camilo!!! (Also, you might have someone like this in your fam… it’s my older brother for me). Basically, Bruno was TOTALLY just like Camilo as a kid!

Get rid of all those reserved, low-self esteem, withdrawn from the family tropes, and join the mischievous child (and adult) Bruno fandom!!!!

I love Bruno as mischievous, BECUASE THERE IS SO MUCH MORE FUN AND ANGST YOU CAN HAVE WITH IT!!!

Bruno as the mischevious child who is always in trouble, who everyone is always annoyed at b/c of his antics… who everyone is now even more annoyed at b/c of prophecies

People finding it so easy to blame Bruno for the prophecies, b/c they’re already annoyed at him, what a troublemaker, he obviously did this on purpose, of course he enjoys bringing pain and suffering to the town, he always loved a prank

Bruno who is so different now he’s back, still a troublemaker, but riddled with insecurities that his family has never seen before, insecurities that have never been there before

Bruno, who is awkward where he once was confident, who is unsure where he once was so sure of himself

Bruno who connects with Camilo, who theatre nerds out with him, who plays pranks with him, who finds his old confidence once more, while helping Camilo find himself too

Bruno who was so confident in his own self that he never let the negativity of the town people get to him, because his family still enjoyed his antics… until his sisters had kids, and suddenly they didn’t have time for him anymore, they didn’t have the patience for him anymore

AND SO MUCH MORE

TL;DR: Bruno Madrigal has always been a mischevious little shit, from childhood until a few years before he retreated into the walls.

[sunnyoldbear]

Luca Headcanons Part 3!

I can’t fucking stop please someone help me

Luca:

All seamonsters have a lot of fish qualities and different sea monsters take on different fish qualities, even within a family.

While Luca isn’t as equipped to handle the deep as his uncle is, his father does have some traits that would help him out. Luca doesn’t know this, but he can survive deeper pressure than most others can. Like, significantly deeper, but not to the point of the Deep. He’s have to get accustomed to it and he might not have even survived.

His species can also echolocate! He also doesn’t know he can do this even though it’s from his mom’s side. He just thinks he clicks and squeaks when he’s happy, he doesn’t know he can also echolocate. Since, again, he hasn’t been to the Deep, the ability is very diluted and he can’t locate things very far but… he can, if he tries hard enough. He won’t, though, cause he just thinks his clicks and squeaks are just that.

He loses his shit when he finds out about dinosaurs. He loves them.

If you even mention a museum he will practically beg to go and he will be in there from opening to closing and still come back for more. He takes in every bit of information he possibly can

He doesn’t flip people off, he just sticks his tongue out

Cloud watches! He thinks it’s cute :)

Is cold blooded. They found this out when he passed out in the middle of class one day during the winter. Winter months are very hard for him at school because of it, so he treasures the break and stays under a bunch of warm blankets.

Talks with his hands a lot

One day when he was swimming to the surface after seeing his family, a fisherman who wasn’t too approving of sea monsters tossed their harpoon at him. It grazed his arm and it hurt like hell, but he still tried to hide it. Of course, since he was clutching his arm and there was blood between his fingers, the Marcovaldos panicked and healed him tot he best of their ability, but Luca simply smiled, turned to Alberto, and said “look, we match now!” (If you see Alberto standing beside Luca so that their scarred arms touch since they’re on opposite arms, no you didn’t)

He finds out about bubble wands and thinks they’re the coolest thing!

Avoids every kid named “Bruno” at school like the plague because he doesn’t want them to think he hates them

Whenever something cool happens he instinctively turns to tell Alberto and his face drops when he doesn’t see him

Definitely the kid to accidentally say “mom” (and)or “I love you” to a teacher and then stare in horror

Grabs Alberto’s arm, wrist, or hand when they’re doing something together if he’s not grabbed first just so they don’t lose each other. It’s just instinct.

Once sobbed for an hour because he saw a dead frog in a pool

Falls asleep if his hair is played with

Still gets made fun of for smelling like fish but due to being a fish he can’t really bathe so Giulia and her mom just spray him with perfume. It makes him feel better.

Forgives Guido and Ciccio with no hesitation, will never forgive Ercole. In fact, he’s terrified of Ercole.

Technically canon, but he is the biggest mama’s boy. She learns from her mistakes and fixes her relationship with him and he becomes super close to her

Only lets those close to him call him “Bubble” like his grandma does

Loses his mind when he sees fireflies

He keeps his hair pretty short

Refuses to eat fish

Is more of a prey fish

That being said, he develops a few survival markings, such as a spot on one of his fins to look like eyes

For some reason I feel like he’d be like clownfish and be able to swim through anemone without getting zapped

Was never good at making friends. The Branzino kid often tried to befriend him but he was too scared of disappointing his parents since Daniela and Mrs. Branzino don’t get along

Wears a seashell anklet

His grandma taught him to read secretly when he was little

Never stops talking. Never.

In class, he’s always the kid raising his hand, even if he doesn’t know the answers, just because of his eagerness

Calls Alberto all the time, more than he calls his family

Carries Alberto’s drawing with him everywhere. Used to be in his pockets and then transferred to his wallet.

Is definitely more of a writer than an artist! With his vivid imagination he can write for days, and Alberto is more than happy to draw them out for him

Lets his hair grow out a bit towards the end of his final school year. The stress of school means he doesn’t quite care for his appearance

Can’t sit still. When he’s at school he’s always fiddling with something but when he’s in Portorosso he just grabs Alberto’s hand and plays with his fingers

Definitely a teacher’s pet

Gets bullied a lot. You can’t expect the world to just be okay with sea monsters overnight. A lot of the world will never accept him. There are kids that make his life a living hell at school.

As much as he loves school, he aches to be free sometimes

Gets super flustered super fast

Sits at Alberto’s side and talks about anything and everything and Alberto will sketch it

His scales are more like a duck’s water-resistant feathers. Water rolls right off.

Loves taking Nerone for walks

Definitely wears skirts and dresses in secret! He just thinks they’re neat :)

Loves romance movies but will never admit it

Literally bites his tongue to hold back from rambling. Giulia and Alberto constantly have to tell him it’s okay and he can talk all he wants, but he’s bullied so often for talking too much that he still holds back if he catches himself

Alberto:

Similar to a Betta Fish! His kind of sea monster aren’t known for bonding well and tend to fight.

When healthy, his scales are long and gorgeous just like a Betta’s! (Giulia is mesmerized by them)

You know how dolphins get high with puffer fish? It’s not just dolphins.

His teeth are a little sharper than most other sea monsters. Yes, he bares them at Ercole every time they see each other. No, he won’t stop

Definitely the “he ask for no pickles” friend

No one knows what he’s talking about half the time except for Luca, Giulia, and (sometimes) Massimo. They just kinda go with it.

Has his own words for everything. Only Luca and Giulia know what he means.

He’s actually super, duper close to Giulia, but they do fight pretty often. They’re siblings.

Likes to put his hat on Luca

Everyone thinks he’d be a bad flirt/get flustered super easily but the opposite is true! He’s a big flirt! He just knows what to say to make others fluster around him! Even if he’s not into you, if your his age or he’s trying to charm you, he’ll flirt up a storm. Living on your own from such a young age means you need to pick up survival tactics, and charm and streetsmarts were the ones he picked up.

Sometimes he faces small boats he sees just for the fun of it

He also sometimes grabs a rope or a net from Massimo’s boat when they’re fishing and just zooms to land to get them there quicker

Loves playing games with the kids when he’s on lifeguard duty, even if it can get him in trouble with his boss

You better bet he makes fun of those school uniforms. He laughs his ass off. He thinks they’re the funniest things.

If he sees or hears even a hint of danger, he is shoving his loved ones behind him and will protect them with his life.

Prefers to be barefoot

Heals surprisingly fast. Something about them fish genes.

When he’s fifteen he jokingly tells Luca he should become a teacher and then Luca’s eyes get all big and excited and Alberto regrets opening his mouth. But he still supports him every step of the way.

Whenever he hears Luca click or chirp, he calls out for him if he’s a distance away or grabs his hand since he recognizes it as echolocation before Luca does

More of a predator fish

Keeps his hair long and growing

I think he’d probably grow a mustache. Giulia hates it so much which is why he keeps it. Okay, he kept it to annoy her, but then he actually started to like it. But when Luca said he liked it, that solidified it

He’s so strong it’s kinda scary. Definitely stronger than the average fisherman, but was stronger even beforehand.

Sometimes just eats fish live and terrifies those around him

He’s super fast! Since he’s based on a tuna or swordfish, he’s pretty quick

Unlike Luca, he’s warm blooded. So when he heard Luca has to keep really warm during winters, he offers most of his clothes

His father abandoning him may seem cruel, but for his kind of sea monsters, it was what had to happen. Still, Alberto is a child and it shouldn’t happen.

Mainly a night eater

Can see further than most of his fishy friends

Good night vision too!

Was taught to read and write as a kid by his father but it’s not perfect so he asks Massimo to do it

Loves playing cards

Fins are sharper than average

Squishes Luca’s cheeks

Sword fights with Giulia except they’re sticks

Whenever Luca falls asleep on him (often), he just stays still and refuses to move

Scoops Luca up sometimes

Grabs Luca’s face and blows raspberries instead of kissing it. (Can be interpreted as platonic or romantic!! Italians kiss on cheeks as greetings)

Protectively wraps his tail around those he loves

Water clings to him a bit more since his built-for-speed scales are less water repellent

Every year he gets scared Luca won’t return

Paints the Hideout to look like Luca’s dream fish-stars after he’s told about it. The ceiling, anyway. Don’t ask how he did it, no one knows.

Changes his last name to Marcovaldo

Thinks pet fish and aquariums are hilarious and will poke fun at the fish (“haha, losers! No freedom!” “Alberto!” “What?!”)

LOVES DINOSAURS

He and Luca share a bed when Luca comes over!

The Vespa poster hangs in his room on his door

Calls Luca’s nightlights “light fish” as a nod to stars

Has Giulia and Luca’s names tattooed onto him because they’re his best friends

Tried to take Caligola and Machiavelli on walks… yeah that goes as well as you think

Giulia:

Is a fast reader

Isn’t a massive poetry fan but does have a few favorites

Also keeps a few drawings from Alberto in her folders

Also scoops Luca up randomly

Can and will bite you

Wears dresses as much as she does shorts

Ties her hair up when serious

Rubs her nose against her family’s as a sign of love. It’s just something she did as a kid, so sometimes she’ll just rub her nose against Alberto’s and he gets really confused

Is low key a little jealous of her brother and best friend being sea monsters

Is a bit of a builder! She makes a bridge from her room to the treehouse

Rarely starts fights with Alberto, but she’ll sure finish them

Half regrets teaching Alberto to swear

Though she seems pretty calm, she’s gotten into her fair share of fights at school. Mainly punches kids who bully her and/or Luca. Also sexists.

Although this is 1950/60s Italy, I imagine she’d be very accepting of homosexuality and not hide it, even if rumors of her being one start spreading and she gets hurt. She has a strong sense of justice and she doesn’t care about consequences.

She’s the only person allowed to make fun of Alberto. No one else is. She’ll quite literally attack anyone who dares.

Her parents were surprised she didn’t take after them in fishing or painting

Honestly I can see her mentoring the kids for the race every summer! Once she hits 18 and is no longer able to compete, she holds practice sessions and loves seeing the kids have fun

She definitely runs the race when she’s older. She moves to Portorosso since her marine biology career is helped by her sea monster brother and the town’s closeness to water

Teaches the boys to make sandcastles

Holds such strong resentment for Alberto’s father and Daniela. Lorenzo and Luca’s grandmother she’s fine with, but Alberto’s biological father abandoning him pisses her off more than she can put into words, and Daniela manipulating her son and sending him away makes her want to break something.

Her “santa (cheese)!” comments slowly change into “Santa (fish)!” exclamations. Like, “Santa Goby!” for example. 

Is more close to Alberto than he wants to let people know. She can read him like a book. He’s honestly her best friend. She tells him everything, they go to each other after nightmares, they share everything, all the fun cute stuff that Alberto would rather die than admit.

Still has no idea what “Silenzio Bruno” and “Piacere, girolamo trombetta” mean and at this point she’s too afraid to ask

Though she loves the Portorosso kids, she’d rather die than be a mother. Her parents understand, but secretly hope she changes her mind so they can spoil a grandbaby. 

Begs Massimo to coverup his sea monster tattoo, which he does

Also a “he ask no pickles” friend!

Is super patient with Luca and Alberto’s adaption to the human world (though she doesn’t like it when Alberto shoves his feet on her-which he loves to do because it pisses her off)

Secretly saves money up for the boys to get a Vespa

While she isn’t the best cook, her pasta meals are pretty damn good! 

Has the trophy from the Cup in her room next to a picture of the three of them on the Vespa

[leoneslover]

Rainy days ༄

Bucci gang x reader(gn!)

Synopsis: How do you guys spend rainy days together <3

Warnings: a little bit of angst if you squint during Abbacchio’s and Narancia’s bit.

A/n: I wrote this while it was raining like crazy during a black out, enjoy.

☆彡 BRUNO:

* I feel like he would be the type to actually enjoy rain a lot.

* If it’s raining during the day, then he’d definitely get up to make himself some piping hot tea.

* It doesn’t matter if it’s one of those summer storms where even though it’s raining, it’s still hot as hell.

* He will make himself some tea and slightly burn his tongue when he takes the first sip.

* He’ll make you one too, if you’d like. But be careful with it lol.

* He’d probably either sit by the window and watch the rain fall, or cuddle with you on the couch.

* Or sit with you on his lap by the window while you drink from the same cup.

* He likes to take moments like these to just relax and just be with you for a while.

* Please play with his hair if you’re cuddling, it’s his favorite way to fall asleep 🥺

* He’ll be pretty silent though, but don’t worry about it, he’s just ~breathing and thinking~

* Overall it’s a pretty relaxing experience, definitely helps a lot if you’re too stressed from work or just life in general.

☆彡 LEONE:

* Oh he doesn’t like rain.

* In fact, he hates it.

* It’s reminds him too much of a lot of bad stuff that has happened.

* Specially if it’s a thunderstorm.

* The sound of the thunders makes him anxious.

* So, if you happen to be with him when the water starts to pour, please don’t let him get too lost in his thoughts.

* It’s one of the very few times where he won’t put much of a fight if you just want to take care of him.

* Maybe get in the bed and hold him close to your chest, or let him use you as personal teddy bear.

* PLEASE Stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, it puts him at ease.

* These probably would be the times where he actually decides to open up a little to you, if he feels comfortable enough.

* He won’t go too deep into his past (he’ll probably never tell you much about it), but he will let you know how he’s feeling, or what’s on his mind at least.

* You don’t have to really say anything back, just the fact that you’re listening is enough for him.

* But if you really wanna say something, then just reassure him that he’s doing his best, and that he’s the best boyfriend that you could even ask for <3

* Just help him take his mind out of his bad thoughts please.

☆彡 MISTA:

* He’s pretty indifferent about rain tbh.

* He’ll probably have some weird conspiracy against it though (like his whole anti-4 thing)

* “Did you know that doing certain stuff while it rains can mean that you’ll die soon?”

* He’ll probably whisper that in your ear while you’re cuddling and he hears a thunder in the distance.

* Let him rant about it, the rest of the squad didn’t even pay attention to him while he told them this the first time.

* “Well I guess I won’t be going out when it rains anymore”

* “Exactly, you shouldn’t!”

* Though if you guys ever happen to be outside when it starts to rain, he will insist you to kiss him under the rain.

* He doesn’t mind getting wet, he just wants to see if it’s as romantic as the movies make it seem.

* Will probably end up convincing you one way or another.

* And it’ll be vary awkward and gross.

* The rain picked up while you were in the middle of it and it kept getting into your mouth.

* Not a great experience really, -5/10 not romantic at all.

* He wants to try with an umbrella next time tho.

* You guys end up going to a nearby cafe to wait for the rain to stop while eating some strawberry shortcake so that’s a win ;)

☆彡 NARANCIA:

* He has mixed opinions when it comes to rain.

* In one hand, he kinda likes the whole running under rain or jumping on puddles to get other people wet kinda stuff.

* But on the other hand, it reminds him of the times where he was homeless, having to brace himself in the middle of the night while the wind got colder and colder.

* You might catch him staring out the window while the rain picks up, with an uncharacteristic melancholic look on his face.

* This is the times where you have to distract him, otherwise he might have a little breakdown and we don’t want that do we.

* Offer to make him some snacks, put his favorite movie on while you cuddle on the couch, let him show you and ramble about his current favorite albums.

* Anything to take his mind out of the gutter will be welcomed.

* I feel like he’d also be kinda scared of thunders, or really loud wind or something.

* Just hug him close to your chest and remind him that you’re there for him.

* His favorite thing to distract him from thunderstorms is when you tell him fun stories about your childhood, or just funny and slightly embarrassing stuff that has happened to you before you guys met.

* He find comfort in them, and in you in general <3

☆彡 FUGO:

* He doesn’t really like the technical aspect of rain (he doesn’t like getting wet), but he appreciates summer storms.

* If it’s raining at night, then he’ll probably just hold you closer to him and fall asleep almost immediately.

* (Rain sounds actually lull him to sleep and calms him down but you didn’t hear that from me).

* If you happen to be with him when there’s a black out because of the storm, then he’ll probably try his best to comfort you (in case stuff like this makes you anxious).

* “Hey, how about we keep reading that book you mentioned the other day?”

* He will lay down, making you get in between his legs with your back against his chest, some hot beverage or snacks in your hands while he holds a book that you like in front of you two for him to read.

* It’s cannon that he has the best reading voice out of the entire team (followed by Bruno or Giorno probably), and you can’t tell me otherwise.

* He’ll also tell you stories or just random stuff that he knows when you get bored of it, playing with your hair or hands while he talks.

* These are one of the few moments where he truly feels calm, just spending time with his s/o without any distraction or worries.

* He likes to think of these moments when he gets really angry.

☆彡 GIORNO:

* He likes the sound of rain, but hates thunders.

* They’re so unnecessarily loud.

* He’ll probably be the one to sit by the fireplace (because of course he has a fireplace) with a book and some coffee and just wait for the rain to stop.

* He’ll let you sit on his lap and maybe even read to you if you want.

* He likes the smell of rain too, so expect to find him with all the windows open in the middle of a storm.

* (If the wind starts to throw wet leaves and stuff into the room then he’ll close them, but will probably sit closer to them so he can still get a little scent).

* This is when he discovered his new favorite thing to do (specially with you)

* Which is to sit by the window, watching the rain fall and then suddenly using his stand to turn some water droplets into flowers.

* He still remembers your expression the first time he did this and he treasures it forever.

* It became your n1 activity to do since then.

* He finds it hilarious to do it when there’s people walking around just to see their confused expressions when they get hit in the head by a whole damn rose during a storm.

* Sometimes he makes them fall into his balcony so after the rain stops you can have a space filled with your favorite flowers.

* “I swear to god Giorno if you turn them into water again I’ll cut that stupid braid of yours in your sleep”

* (He did it once to see what’ll happen and he still teases you about it even to this day).

[brunos-beloved]

wine and cards : bruno bucciarati x reader

summary: bruno comforts a wasted y/n, unknowing that he’s the reason.

word count: 1.7k

—✧—

“Va tutto bene, y/n?” Bruno asked, a concerned look softening his normally stiffly straight posture. You’d always wondered how he managed to keep such professional composure up for so long. You yourself had never had a problem with that either, but you rarely kept one up around those you knew didn’t need it or expect it, leaving that side of you for missions or deals. But Bruno? He was capo, and a very consistent and committing one at that.

“Y-yes, grazie Bucciarati.” The stutter that formed unwillingly came from the push of a hiccup at the bottom of your throat; you’d never been a drinker...but tonight was different. Tonight you just didn’t want to think of a way to deal with what you were feeling other than that, which you hadn’t even thought of yourself, but childishly took the suggestion from Abbacchio and the bottle of wine he’d popped open for himself. 

You recalled playing cards with Narancia and Fugo, now you knew you were a confident drunk. But you could only win for so long, and you came crashing down from the high. Now things seemed to be getting fuzzy, and Narancia and Fugo’s game you’d skipped out on produced squabble that felt like nails on a chalkboard to your numbing ears. Though, this messed up state you were in, this had been exactly what you’d wanted, right? So why did you suddenly feel so much more helpless and overwhelmed than before? Every word and every noise seemed to amplify the more you thought of it, and you felt a headache coming on, along with the desperate craving to just leave. Though your body didn’t move, and your limbs just grew more tired. The high was nowhere near worth this crash, you thought, even if it did seem to null your feelings for the capo for a while.

Although you had reassured him earlier, his long black shoes never did leave your gaze that had sunken to the floor. Was he watching them play? Even raising your head had become a chore with all the noise in your head and alcohol in your system. Rather than the side profile you’d imagined, you were met with sapphire eyes, focused on you rather than the boys. 

“Is everything alright, y/n?” Bruno repeated. His striking eyes seemed sterner than the gaze you’d received last time, so your own eyes darted back to the floor rather than providing an answer. Somehow though, that and your uncomfortable expression seemed to be enough for him. He offered you a hand with such grace you wondered again just how this man managed to present himself in such a way. From his composure to his very movements Bruno was someone who just mesmerized you with anything he did. That was the very reason you’d drank bottles tonight, you could never picture yourself keeping up with him, being enough for him, being wanted by him. That is what ate you alive. But, as a soft smile formed onto his full lips and in his beautiful eyes, black bob swaying as he tilted his head towards the door, how could you say no to an exit like that?

As expected, the way off your seat and onto the balcony had been anything but graceful. Rather than being lead by only his hand, you’d found him carrying half your weight, you tried not to hang off the arm supporting you. Unbeknownst to you, Bruno truly didn’t mind the close quarters. He’d always been so careful and doting towards you according to the others, but you’d assumed that was just how he acted with most he cared about, it was just in his nature. Finally arriving at said balcony, you’d couldn’t help but gawk at the stars. 

“I thought you needed fresh air.“ He mused, the same welcoming smile upon his handsome face. You couldn’t help but stare and feel lucky. You leaned onto the railing, feeling a chill breeze run through your hair.

“I did, thank you.“ Was all you could manage, staring at the way his olive skin soaked up the moonlight and wondering what it’d feel like under your touch. Another gust of wind ran across your bare shoulders, you couldn’t help but shiver. You’re cheeks were on fire, they had been for hours but now, in front of him, they felt completely ablaze, making the ice cold feel so much harsher. His warm palm landed onto your shoulder.

“Are you cold dolcezza? We can go back if-” Your mouth ran before he could even finish. You were finally back to enjoying the night, you weren’t ready to sleep and you weren’t looking to crash with your own thoughts yet again.

“No! I want to stay with you.“ Your boldness surprised the both of you, and a silent pause followed. Immediate dread ensued, and your blurry thoughts caused you to panic and defend yourself. “We don’t get to talk often, so it’s alright if I’m cold.” Even saying that made you crave a slap to the face, your inability to think anything through made you feel foolish, yet it had gotten you to say the truth. You slapped a hand over your mouth, as if it’d move on its own, then squeezed your eyes shut to sigh and hiccup. Opening them again to look up at the man, wondering if he felt the same, if his doting nature was for you and only you, rather than just anyone. Yet in your insecure mind that seemed so reaching, so you inhaled, “I’m sorry, I-I don’t know what I’m saying, you can leave if you’d like.” You said, though you prayed he wouldn’t. 

Your drooping eyes perked back up at the sound of a dry chuckle, it wasn’t something you heard often from a man so serious and hard-working, your heart tinged at the sight, remembering the heat on your cheeks. 

You’d gotten him to laugh. 

“Why would I want to leave? We don’t get time alone like this often, didn’t you say so?” You were equally surprised by the reply you’d gotten.

“I just thought what I said sounded stupid.“ You regret freeing your mouth of your palm for even a moment, realizing that acknowledging your stupidity only points out the stupidity you were trying to conceal in the first place. Bruno looks ready to laugh again, but luckily decides to spare your pride, and send you a smile instead. For that you were grateful. 

“Not at all, I thought it was sweet.“ He adds with no strain at all, easily honest. You breath stutters, and you’re also a little more grateful for your running mouth and wine stained lips. It’s your turn to chuckle, and Bruno takes the relief in your voice as a good time to leave you temporarily, coming back with a blanket for your chilled shoulders.

Bruno wraps it around you, careful and doting just like your friends had described, and your mind drifts from his eyes to his lips. “Here you go carino, better?” His hands haven’t yet left the ends of the blanket, so you’re drawn into him quite closely. The noise inside -a mix of blaring music and the gang reacting dramatically to a card game that got surprisingly competitive- muffles and fades, you wonder if it’d be alright to close the distance. All you’d need to do is cover a few centimetres, and you’d be pressed against his chest and in his arms, your stomach flips at the thought. Meanwhile, Bruno stares down at you, equally torn about letting go of you. You tear your head away and switch your gaze to the stars, your heart strained enough. 

“The stars, they’re really beautiful tonight, no?“ You feel Bruno shift, and his grip on the fabric around you loosens, looking out into the vast and dark sky like you’d asked. He hesitantly agrees, was he just breaking out of the same daze you were? When Bruno turns his head, you feel his arms about to free you, and without thinking twice, you use the angle of his face to your advantage. You grasped his cheek, pecking the other and drawing him back in. When you pull away slightly, his cerulean eyes are on you, and you wonder whether or not it was your place. Then the swift hands that had released you are easing into your waist, and your doubt dissipates, you’d actually thought correct. You can’t tell which of you closes the distance, but his lips are pressed onto yours, and your hands pull him in even tighter by the back of his neck. Your bodies press together, and the warmth he grants you is heavenly, so much so you wonder if you were dreaming, actually passed out onto a counter somewhere. Fortunately, when your eyes flutter open you instead see Bruno Bucciarati, blue eyes looking down at you with such fondness your heart could burst. You arms go from his neck to his shoulders, relishing in the soft fabric of his black and white suit as you press your face into his chest, humming in relief. You relax at the rhythm of his heart, the both of you enjoying the silent embrace.

After such warmth and relief all at once, you feel yourself sink into a soothing fatigue, and Bruno insists on getting you to bed. You wish to wrench yourself from the party inside the moment the mayhem of loud teenagers reach your ears, Abbacchio passed out in his room from his own wine presumably. 

“Well look what the cat dragged in! And with- Oooooh!” Mista whistles at you from the couch, you stick out your tongue at him, but you can’t help but grin as you lean back into Bruno’s arms and make your way up upstairs, eager to muffle the loud voices downstairs with your bedroom door. 

Once you arrive, Bruno helps you into bed, you reassured him you hadn’t had that much to drink, but he insists. The moment you curl up into bed you already miss his touch, needily flipping over to look back at him before he leaves. Your actions surprise him, he’d swore you would be out like a light, but you’re determined to see him out it seems. So, he humors you, and presses a tender kiss to your forehead before ushering you to sleep. 

“Buonanotte, amore mio.”

—✧—

first fic on here, it’s 12:30 AM, wooooooo :0 hope y’all enjoy :)

[teawaffles]

The Fugitives from the Fire: Chapter 5, Part 2

“Hey, madam innkeeper: where would you normally have been in the building?”

“……Since when did you get in charge of the investigation?”

As Sherlock took the lead, it seemed Gregson was displeased, but also no longer in the mood to put up a fight.

Hillary sniffed.

“I was always at the reception desk. I’m the only one managing the inn; I don’t have a single employee.”

“In that case, do you remember when these three men came to book their rooms? Or rather, at the time, had there been anyone with burns on their face?”

Sherlock was now diverting the conversation away from the case, instead attempting to verify if there were eyewitness accounts of the other fugitive. However, Gregson responded in a low voice.

“Holmes: it’s not going to work. We also tried asking her when we arrived at the scene back then, but it seems she has a strange policy of protecting her guests’ privacy, so she doesn’t check her guests’ appearances and such too closely.”

It seemed Hillary had heard him whispering, for she spoke up in defiance.

“You know, these parts are full of people with something to hide. I always make sure they pay up, but I don’t do such tactless things as staring people in the face.”

“Tactful, eh……”

Even Sherlock couldn’t stop himself; he cracked a wry grin. He didn’t know if it was an unwritten rule of the slums, but the innkeeper’s response was certainly a little too risky.

Nevertheless, at this point, there was nothing to be gained from laying blame on her. Sherlock continued.

“In that case, when the fire started, were you also at the reception?”

“That’s right. I wanted to stay there until the fire was contained, but a bunch of bobbies dragged me out at the very last moment.”

It seemed the lady possessed a truly dauntless spirit, so much so she had been willing to go down with her inn. That elicited something close to admiration within Sherlock, and he looked over the suspects.

“You mentioned ‘the very last moment’… That means you stayed at the reception until everyone had escaped?”

“Indeed: as the landlady, I have to ensure my guests are safe. Besides these guys, I definitely saw the ones from rooms 102 and 201 escape out the front door.”

“You’re indeed the epitome of a host.”

In his mind, Sherlock added this new piece of information on the guests’ rooms.

Excluding the murder victim, there had been five guests in total.

On the ground floor, rooms 101 (Jerry Dorff) and 102 had been occupied.

On the first floor, rooms 201 and 203 (Mike Myers).

Then on the second floor, room 301 (Bruno Campbell).

As he gathered the respective locations of the guests, the proprietress spoke up.

“Oh yes — earlier, everyone was talking about who had the chance to go up to the second floor, right? You’ll have to rule out Mr Jerry over there: for some reason, he immediately ran outside when the fire began. He seemed the very picture of alarm.”

“Hmm; this man, panicked?”

As far as he was concerned, people were free to run away in any manner they liked. But the gap between that and the taciturn, mysterious man before them made even Sherlock’s expression soften. It seemed Jerry had been strangely embarrassed by that reaction, deliberately clearing his throat.

Then, the detective turned to Gregson.

“Come to think of it, when you were going back upstairs, did you go past anyone? There must’ve been people rushing to escape.”

“I remember that: I passed by Bruno, Mike, and one other guest on the stairs. But is that important somehow?”

“If the killer had been among them, then he must’ve murdered the victim in the short period between the time you went downstairs to check the situation, and the time you returned to the second floor.”

Gregson groaned. “……Of course, that interval feels way too short. It didn’t even take me 30 seconds to go downstairs and back up again. So, that means……”

The locations of the suspects’ rooms. The escape route. The span of time until the victim had been murdered. Putting together all the clues they’d gathered by questioning the people involved, a single answer surfaced of its own accord.

“——It’s impossible for the killer to have gone upstairs and murdered him.”

Sherlock sounded as if he were pronouncing a judgement. Then, Gregson finally got his head around it — just like what a detective’s assistant would’ve done.

——“In that case, how did he murder the man in the room?”

“T-Then, the man in the room — how was he murdered……?”

Once again, the John in his imagination overlapped with Gregson. In theory, this ‘riddle’ had turned into something impossible to solve, and the assistant inspector was wracked with an anguish akin to agony.

However, that was a tale that only applied to ordinary people.

With his singularly transcendent powers of deduction, the consulting detective had already narrowed down two answers to this case.

Truthfully, right now, he could proceed to the solution right away. But for some reason, he didn’t want to do that. Surely, the reason why he was investigating the truth like this, was because he saw the figure of the man before him strenuously racking his brains.

As Gregson continued to despair, Sherlock Holmes placed a hand on his back.

“Gregson, do you have a moment?”

“……What do you want?”

He looked exhausted — but that was a weariness born from his own sense of responsibility, and even Sherlock refused to take a jibe at him now.

Gregson was shouldering a duty as a police inspector, so the detective resolved to use a little discretion.

“I want to talk to you outside for a bit.”

“…………”

Sherlock had said so in a serious tone, and Gregson didn’t put up a fight.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Once they left the inn, an unnerving oppressiveness made their skin prickle: clearly, the locals’ anger had only intensified. Lestrade was trying his best to negotiate with and conciliate them, but it wouldn’t be long before their frustration boiled over.

Yet, even as they were caught in this race against time, Sherlock remained unhurried. On the streets to which filth clung here and there, he began to speak as if they were simply having a chat.

“First off, from the conversation earlier, we’ve eliminated the possibility that the culprit went to room 303 and killed him. As such, we have to consider a different tack.”

“A different tack?”

“What I mean is, the idea that he didn’t attack from the door — rather, the window.”

Sherlock proposed the theory he’d thought up at the start: that the man had been shot from the window. With this idea, they could break free of the ‘riddle’ created by the locked room — the murderer could kill the victim even without going all the way to the second floor.

However, Gregson shrugged in amazement, and explained in an indifferent tone.

“This might dispute the deduction you’re so proud of, but we did look into that as well. Firstly, for this method to work, there must’ve been two men in total: one to start the fire at the inn, and the other to shoot the victim from outside. But hiring another collaborator to silence an accomplice, or settle a falling-out, brings its own share of danger. In addition, in order to shoot his victim, a gunman would minimally have to be at the same height as him. There’s a brothel across the street from the inn, facing its north wall, and with three floors to boot, it fits the bill. But at the time of the murder, there’d been people on its second floor, and no one testified that they heard a gunshot. Hence, that explanation has to be rejected.”

Unusually, the inspector had discussed his view without a hint of his usual thorny attitude.

But Sherlock was adamant. “If that’s the case, then——”

——“If that’s the case, then how about something like this? Sherlock.”

His partner’s voice resounded through his mind. Now, the detective persisted in playing the role of an assistant, raising another idea to the inspector.

“From the street beside the inn, he could’ve aimed at room 303’s window and shot the victim. With that, he wouldn’t have raised suspicions among the people in the brothel.”

“……That’s rather cliché. There were officers outside the inn, so if there’d been someone with a gun outside, they would’ve arrested him long ago. Moreover, the victim collapsed a step away from the room door. If he’d been shot from the window, he would’ve lain there still. Even if he had then used the last of his strength to crawl all the way to the door, with that level of blood loss, it’d be strange that there hadn’t been a trail of blood leading from the window. As I said earlier, as far as I could tell through the keyhole, I didn’t see any marks like that.”

The inspector calmly refuted his theory, and Sherlock made the same troubled face as John always did.

——Then and there, he eliminated one of his two suppositions, and completely saw through the ‘riddle’ of this case.

“Is that so? Then I’m completely at a loss here.”

“Hmm, what’s gotten into you since earlier? ……You kept making deductions that were quite unlike you.”

Gregson had casually said something that, deep down, revealed a glimpse of his recognition of the detective’s ability. Unwittingly, Sherlock broke into a gentle smile.

But just as quickly, he replaced it with the troubled expression required of the fool he was playing. Sherlock put both hands behind his head, and looked up at the sky.

“Hey, Gregson. Somehow, we’ve been talking over and over and getting nowhere; so for a change of pace, how about a quiz?”

“Huh? You purposely brought me all the way outside, for a quiz?!”

Gregson frowned, but Sherlock continued without a care.

“Let’s say there are two children, A and B, and they’re friends. One day, the two of them play catch at a distance of about 20 steps away from one another. But although A can throw the ball to B, B can’t throw it back to A. Why is that so? In case you were wondering, the two of them have the same strength.”

“……Hmm.”

Gregson forgot about his complaints for a moment, and pondered.

“Did B sprain his shoulder?”

“In a quiz like this, that kind of reasoning’s rubbish, isn’t it?”

“There’s a wall between them.”

“Then A couldn’t have thrown the ball over.”

“……Another kid suddenly appeared and stole the ball.”

“You’re being a little careless, aren’t ya?”

It was unclear what the intention behind this quiz was, and to top it off, Sherlock had rejected every one of his answers. At last, Gregson raised his voice.

“Dammit, just tell me the answer already! Also, what’s the point of a quiz like this?!”

“Come on, now,” Sherlock parried. “I’ll give you a hint: for example, try looking at this building here.”

“Hmm……”

The detective pointed to the inn they had just stepped out of. Coincidentally, just like the one that had burnt down, this building also had three floors.

“What about it?”

“Man, you’re still as slow as ever. Look……”

Sherlock pointed to a window on the upper floors, and moved his finger between that and the window below it a few times.

Watching that action, Gregson seemed to have arrived at the answer himself.

“I see. So the children were standing on the upper and lower floors respectively, and leaning out the windows to throw the ball? Although it could be thrown from the floor above to the one below, it would be difficult to throw the ball back up in the other direction. That’s to say, the distance of 20 steps was not lengthwise, but vertical——”

Right then, as if a bolt of electricity had coursed through him, Gregson twitched. His hand shot to his chin; sinking deep into thought, he remained absolutely motionless, with only his lips piecing fragments together into clues.

“There’s only one way…… To be able to kill without going upstairs…… In that case, the position of the body…… And it ending up as a locked room…… But, such an extraordinary method –– is it even possible?”

At his final question, Sherlock grinned.

“I don’t have the foggiest idea what you just thought of…… But when you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” [1]

“………!”

Gregson looked at the detective, standing boldly where he was.

Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

That was what he’d always maintained.

A suicide, or an accident. Pretending to be dead. Entering the room and murdering him. A sniper shot from the window. After carefully pursuing all lines of thought, in the end, only this solution remained.

In that case, it had to be the truth.

Could it be, that he’d started this entire conversation in order to guide him here……?

“……Hmph.”

At that thought, Assistant Inspector Gregson reassumed his usual, haughty attitude: the manner of a police inspector who saw the detective as his enemy.

“Let’s go, Holmes. I’ll tell you what I’ve deduced.”

——This is my case.

As Gregson strode away triumphantly, Sherlock chuckled.

T/N: Sherlock has grown so much..! (my /heart/)

Footnotes:

[1] A quote from Chapter 6 of the Sherlock Holmes novel The Sign of the Four, by Arthur Conan Doyle. (Wikipedia)

[ddarker-dreams]

first kisses / scarlet ribbons.

[Scarlet Ribbons description]

> Concept; Situations from the different “universe” possibilities in Scarlet Ribbons, where SR Reader ends up with a respective partner. All world building/Pre-VA events are identical in each universe, until they split off into romantic pursuits Post-VA.

>Bruno Bucciarati;

It’s been a strange vacation. You’d like to think that you’re patient, but this is testing the limits of what you can handle. To think that Bruno finds this an enjoyable hobby is difficult to understand. 

"I don’t think I can do this, Bruno...” 

Your hands are shaky around the fishing rod’s handle, making the task at hand all the more difficult. He places his hand atop yours in hopes of reassuring you. The sight before you is stunning, clear ocean water as far as the eye can see, accompanied by a breeze that tickles your face. It smells of saltwater and Bruno’s musky cologne. He’s envelopes you from behind, whispering words of encouragement, warm breath fanning against your earlobe.

“You’re doing just fine,” he hums, clearly amused with your predicament. You pout, uncaring that he can’t see, thinking of how to best get revenge on your Capo later. When he mentioned a getaway weekend to the beach, this wasn’t what you were expecting. “You’ve made it through situations more strenuous than this one, cara. Steady yourself.” 

You grumble out a low string of words. He’s impossible to stay upset with. Time passes by, no fish biting the bait in the water. Finally, you feel the unmistakable tug, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Summoning all your strength, you hoist the fishing rod over your shoulder. Your catch hangs from the hook, a sign of victory, and a reward for your patience. 

Pivoting on your heel, you beam up at Bruno who returns your enthusiasm. “I did it, I did it!” 

“What did I tell you?” He chuckles as you celebrate, jumping up and down on the pier. Everything hits at once. The thought of how his father would’ve loved you as much as he does, how the sunset complements your glowing complexion, of how long he’s wanted to be intimate with you like this. Softening his gaze, his hands cup either side of your face. Anything up until this moment is forgotten, Bruno looking deep into your eyes. 

He closes the distance, head tilting to the side. He tastes of finely aged wine, kissing you with every ounce of emotion that’s been repressed for so long. You return the sentiments with equal fervor, the two of you breathing in sync as your lips mesh together. It’s you who pulls back first, lips tingling from the sensation of Bruno’s passion. He has successfully taken your breath away, a factor he’ll undoubtedly tease you about later. Not that you can be upset with him. If there’s anything Bruno is good at, it’s winning you over. 

He chuckles as you rush to catch your breath, fixing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

>Giorno Giovanna;

Hand in hand, you stroll down the streets of Naples by your lover’s side. It’s been an evening long in the making. Giorno is busy as he is diligent, another reason you’re grateful that he had a lull in his schedule to spend the day with you. Your day has overwhelmed your heart with joy since its conception, the two of you partaking in a variety of activities. All of which pales in comparison to spending time with the one you love. Quality time with Giorno is meant to be treasured, and you intend on doing just that. 

He comes to a sudden pause, earning your attention. You follow his example, standing in place until he explains what he’s up to. The night sky hangs overhead, not a single cloud in sight. Moonlight shines against his face, eyebrows furrowing and full lips parting. Giorno takes the time to prepare his words, hoping to still his rapidly beating heart. You blink, recognizing his thoughtful countenance, wondering what he intends to do next.

He takes a deep breath. “[First]... I wanted to thank you. For lending me your strength.” 

The statement feels out of the blue, sincerity interlaced with every word. You tilt your head. Where is this heading? Giorno wills himself to continue, momentarily distracted by your cute expression. With the hand that holds yours, he brings it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss against it. Warmth floods your face at the intimate gesture. It’s hard not to recall how you did the same thing to him long ago, when Giorno first took his role as Don of Passione. For someone this important to be doing that for you, it’s dizzying. 

Giorno looks up at your flustered self through thick eyelashes, drinking in the sight. 

“Y-you don’t need to thank me for anything.” You stutter out, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. If anything, you’re immensely grateful to him, for giving you the possibility at a different life. Had it not been for Giorno, crippling debt would still have a stronghold on your life. He shakes his head in disagreement. 

“I don’t get to express my gratitude for you often,” he releases your hand, going to cup your face. The pad of his thumb rubs circles lovingly into your cheeks. “So please let me do so now.” 

His words are so quiet, meant only for you to hear. You know how vulnerable he’s allowing himself to be with you. Love swells in your heart, and you meet him halfway to reciprocate the kiss he initiates. Your eyes flutter shut, arms wrapping around his neck; and his hands settle on your waist. There’s so much work to be done to secure the future he wants. A future with you in it. But for now, his mind thinks of none of the sort, too taken with your existence to entertain the thought of anything else.

>Guido Mista;

“You should feel all better now, right?”

Number Five’s sniffles settle down when you pull back, face morphing into a teary eye smile. This has become a tradition of sorts. When the other Pistols take to bullying Number Five, you make sure to pepper him in tiny smooches. Finally content after receiving his share of affection, Number Five returns to his spot of sitting on your shoulder. You’re about to return to looking at your phone when you hear someone clearing their throat.

Mista is stealing glances, his hat having been removed at your behest. Loose, brown curls frame his face, which has an uncharacteristic frown on it. “So, [First]...”

“So, Mista?” You repeat back to him, raising an eyebrow. His arm is behind you on the couch, fingers curling up and warm eyes avoiding yours. His sudden shift in mood strikes you as odd. Mista is the confident, boisterous type. Fluctuating from winking at you, to sharing god awful pickup lines from his favorite movies, and even trying to hit on you in your native tongue. So this apprehension is jarring.

He lets out a laugh, a nervous tick you’ve picked up on. “I was just thinking, babe. About how we haven’t... well, y’know...”

Mista is talking with his hands, trying to communicate what’s on his mind. You have a slight idea at what he’s hinting at. Instead of playing along with him, you decide to tease him as revenge for all the times he’s embarrassed you.

“That we haven’t slept together yet? Is that it? Hm, it’s pretty bold of you to try and come out and try to say that...”

You can’t hold back your grin at how his eyes widen, tan face accented with a bright blush. He’s sputtering out words in a last ditch attempt to salvage his tattered pride. When he sees you breaking out into laughter, and realizes you’re just messing with him, he fully intends to return the favor. Your wrists are grabbed ahold of, Mista pushing you down against the couch. Even as he hovers above you with what’s supposed to be a threatening look, your laughter only grows louder.

What should he do with you...? There’s always the option of tickling you until you’re begging for forgiveness. Or, he could just get what he originally wanted, by making your first kiss his. Opting on the latter, he brings his face down to meet yours. The kiss is everyone you wanted. A bit sloppy, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip, and chest heaving with excitement. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he lets out a noise of surprise when you draw him in closer.

>Narancia Ghirgha;

“So, what does this lyric mean?”

This has become a familiar game between you and Narancia. He tends to enjoy English music more than anything else, and jumps at the opportunity to listen to it with you. Today, you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on your bed, sharing headphones. It’s a hot day out, your fan trying its best to stave off the summer heat. It’s always the little moments like this with Narancia that you treasure the most.

He waited until the song was finished to pose his question. You place a finger to your cheek, attempting to translate the notable lyrics in your mind before you explain them. You’re surprised that he’s expressing an interest in this particular song — Nights in White Satin — since it isn’t his normal taste. You were hoping to expose him to some other genres. The lyrics of the chorus are the simplest to bring over into Italian, so you start off with that.

His face goes red as a cherry as you repeat “I love you”, for every time the chorus would. Narancia stares at you, jaw agape, and it takes a moment for you to realize why he’s acting this way. Despite your close relationship, and evident feelings, neither of you have spoken those intimate words to one another before now. Feeling suddenly self conscious, you go to reaffirm that you were just translating the lyrics as he asked. 

“I was just—“

“I, uh, I l-love you too, [First]!” He exclaims at a loud volume, interrupting you.

You stare at him. He stares at you. Ah. It looks like you weren’t fast enough to explain the situation. You’re uncertain of who is most embarrassed at this rate. Neither of you speak a word, Narancia experiencing this situation through an entirely different viewpoint. Well, it’s not like you’d be lying if you had said those words with different intent. Still, such a heartfelt confession should be saved for a more fitting environment. Not when you’re wearing booty shorts and a tank top, fighting off sweat from Naple’s oppressive summer.

Narancia seems to be processing things on his own, shuffling to move even closer to you. He’s thinking that, after such a confession, now is the best time to make a move. His face is in front of yours before you know it, a shaky hand being pressed against the side of your face. He squeezes his eyes shut, puckering his lips, and leans in for the kiss. You’re in disbelief over how all of this is going down. It’ll be a story for the ages, you think.

Reaffirming his actions, you return his kiss with a smile, fighting off a laugh. Narancia’s body stiffens when your lips make contact, uncertain if he should hold back or go all in like he desperately wants to. The anxiety swelling up inside him wins out in the end. He pulls back, chest heaving, even though the kiss was very brief. He decides that you taste good, sweet as your personality. 

“Nara, amore mio,” you smile, giggles sneaking past your lips. “Those were just the lyrics to the song. So I’ll say it for real this time. I love you.”

He was... so enamored by you saying it the first time, but now everything makes sense. It hits him like a ton of bricks. Narancia wants nothing more than to sink into the earth, but settles for shoving his face into your pillow and screaming. This has got to be the most humiliating moment of his life. You find it endearing, reassuring him that this is a fitting first kiss from him.

That doesn’t make him feel better.

>Pannacotta Fugo;

“So, to repeat my previous point, you will need to find the value of x by using this process...”

Fugo, blessed be his soul, has appointed himself as your math tutor. While you’re immensely grateful for his efforts, it’s currently one in the morning. You’re fighting the urge to doze off, his velvety voice not making it any easier on you. The topic at hand has long since been forgotten, you think it may have had something to do with algebra. You watch him through lidded eyes, adoration bubbling up from within. He looks so serious, it’s precious. Every time he goes into a new explanation, you can tell that this is a subject he loves to talk about. You could listen to him speak for hours. Though it’d be preferable if it weren’t about math...

“[First]. You’re not listening, are you?” He inquires with a frustrated sigh, poking your cheek. At the interruption of your daydreaming, you lift your head up, straightening your posture. In a meager attempt to prove you were paying attention, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

“W-what was that? Sorry, I didn’t catch the last part, something about capybaras right...” 

Fugo squints at you, lips pursing. He takes in a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. You’re lucky that he loves you. Anyone else would’ve had a fork or some other sharp object shoved into them by now. He fights off any bitter feelings, looking down and catching the time. The excitement of teaching you got the better of him, he didn’t even realize that it had gotten this late, no wonder you’re falling asleep.

He closes your college textbook, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s enough for tonight. You need to get to bed. Now.” 

You mistake his concern for your well being as anger for not paying attention. Fugo always has a difficult time getting the full extent of his feelings across, and he normally doesn’t have any motivation to try. You’re a different story. A reason to better himself, so that he might feel deserving of your love. Fugo’s eyes soften at your crestfallen form, scooting his chair next to yours.

“Hey,” he speaks up in a whisper, tipping his head down to look you in the eye. “You did good today, I’m proud. We’ll continue tomorrow, but you should rest now.” 

“Mm, alright. But first, you need to do me a favor,” you respond through a tired haze. In this sleep deprived state, you’re acting on impulse, your eyes fixated on Fugo’s lips. There’s a single goal at this point. “I want... I want kisses.” 

He’s never seen you this bold before. How tired are you...? He’ll need to ask Bucciarati to reduce your hours after this. For now, he’s flooded with tingling warmth. Fugo has long awaited this day, a day where he could get his feelings for you across. A silent prayer is said that you’ll remember this in the morning. Fugo nods once, pressing a quick peck to your lips. Then to your nose, and your forehead after that. You’ve already fallen asleep, a content smile on your lips. What should he do with you?

Sighing, he picks you up, careful not to wake you. “You’re so much trouble, [First].”

And he loves you for it.

>Leone Abbacchio;

“For once, just let me show you that I’m serious!”

It hurts. The corner of your eyes are stinging, your throat raw from screaming. Abbacchio stares down at you, his own chest heaving from putting up a verbal fight. You’re insufferably persistent in seeking him out. He’ll give you one thing, when you don’t want to back down, you give it your all. Not that he understands it.

Why won’t you just leave me alone already? It’s for your own good. What you see in him is a mystery, that he isn’t willing to entertain any longer. He hurts people. He has hurt too numerous to count, and doesn’t want to add the person he loves to the ranks. Should you hate him, then so be it; maybe then it’ll be easier for him to move on. When you’re staring up at him with fire burning in your eyes, it makes it all the more difficult to hold his ground. He has to, he tells himself. 

“Enough with this already. I’m done here.” He inhales sharply, wanting nothing more than to vanish from this convicting situation. A part of him knows that it’s wishful thinking, the part that knows you. And how stubborn you can be once there’s an idea in your mind. It’s what he both dreads and adores about you.

You rush to block his path of escape, borderline stomping on the way there. He’s taken aback by how bold you’re acting — you’re so certain of yourself. This is how you’ve always been. Abbacchio can’t help but feel jealous at this self-assured nature, how you know what needs to be done. Dammit, even when he’s trying to distance himself from you, his mind drifts elsewhere...

The two of you glare at one another, both parties refusing to back down. If Abbacchio is going to cower away from you, so be it; but not before he understands how much you care. That you’ve meant every word you said. That every action, the hand of compassion you’ve extended towards him, and the relationship built off of it means something to you. You hope it means the same amount to him.

Grabbing a hold of his collar, you jerk the fabric down towards you. He’s scowling, about to ask what the fuck you’re doing, when your faces are inches apart. He needs to move away. He needs to keep you at an arms length, like it’s supposed to be. Abbacchio knows this, and yet, he remains still as a statue.

In stark contrast to your rough actions, your lips meeting his is anything but. It’s driven by months of suppression. Time is at a standstill, neither of you knowing with confidence of what to do next. He doesn’t reciprocate or push you away, too absorbed with his self deprecating thoughts to act clearly. It’s only when you pull back, eyes glassy, that he comes to his senses. 

Was your hunch wrong? Does he really not...? 

Abbacchio’s body acts on his behalf. As he now leads the kiss, it’s far rougher, conveying all that he’s afraid to say. It’s imperfect, as all things are; but the start to a brighter future. You won him over in the end, as frustrating as it may be to admit. It’s a victory that he doesn’t mind. 

>Trish Una;

“I-I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so beautiful.”

Is this what it’s like to see a goddess in the flesh? Trish stands before you, wearing a stunning outfit unlike anything you’ve ever seen; a black as night dress that hugs against her curves. She’s completely dolled up, ethereal. Wearing winged eyeliner, crimson lip stick, highlighter complementing her cheekbones and blush dusting across her face. It’s mixing in with how flustered you’re making her with that doting stare, Trish having a difficult time maintaining eye contact.

She looks down to her stilettos, the distraction offering an opportunity to think. You’re the first person to ever look at her like this. To offer your full heart and adoration, with no agendas hidden beneath the surface. No, there’s nothing but unabashed care in you directed towards her. Rivaled only by Trish’s love for you.

“D-don’t get all cheesy on me now,” she stutters out, willing herself to return your gaze. Your smile is contagious, and she finds herself returning it. You’re wearing a formal getup as well, and she admires every detail of your outfit. It was one that she picked out for you a week prior, and as predicted, it suits you perfectly. “You look... good. Amazing, I mean.” 

Trish’s heart flutters at the laugh that leaves your lips. Every movement you make has this bewitching power over her, a spell that she doesn’t mind being under. If it’s for you, that is. 

Tonight is an important one -- her first live performance in front of a crowd. You’re nothing if not proud. The two of you have come far, overcoming tribulations that most would crumble under. It feels right. Earned. After the hell you endured together, to experience a shot at something new. Your support for her is what’s made it all possible. 

It won’t be long now until she’s called on stage. If anything, she should be in the greenroom by now, checking through the final touches for the performance. Knowing that you’ll be in the crowd, listening to her song is a motivator unlike any other. For now, though, all of that has been put to the side. It feels like the perfect time. 

Heels click against the ground as she approaches, taking your hands in her own. Swinging them back and forth, she struggles to find the proper words. “Tonight... tonight was only possible because of you. I wanted to tell you that.” 

“But you--”

A manicured finger is pressed against your lips, and she shushes you. 

“Let me finish,” she smiles, content at how you nod, a blush forming on your face. “There’s one thing missing that you need to fix. Give me a kiss for good luck, or I won’t forgive you.” 

You’ve never been happier to follow an order. Her lips are soft, feather light against your own. Some of her lipstick is bound to rub off -- not that either of you care -- and she wraps her arms around your neck. Knowing Trish, she’ll be upset should you mess up her hair. You settle on wrapping your arms around her waist, bringing her in closer. The taste of her lip primer is addicting, tasting faintly of bubblegum. 

Trish doesn’t let you pull back for air, too intent on drinking you in for as long as she can. 

[anchoviesinthenightsky]

Here’s something that came to mind from seeing tangled the series that lives in my head rent free I don’t know what to do with:

Following a year after the movie, Luca comes home for early spring holidays. Alberto’s mood is oddly kinda down in a way him and Massimo hadn’t seen before. Luca and Massimo worry what could be troubling him, as Massimo reveals that he’s been down for a few weeks now since spring really kinda started. Massimo decides to take the boys fishing, thinking it would cheer him up to keep him busy, as Alberto had said he doesn’t know why he’s sad, it just happens every spring and it’ll pass, like seasonal depression. Though while out near the good fishing spot Alberto and Luca had shown early, they couldn’t get Alberto to focus much as he just focused on the island he use to reside from, like a trance.

Is it abandonment issues? Yes. Feel free with whatever ending or style, I know it’s not really Luca x Alberto but I am not good with romance plots I’m so sorry 😞 hope you enjoy it anyway

AN: What a GREAT prompt. I had so much fun writing this. I'm not sure if you meant this, but I took this to imply that Alberto's dad left in the spring. And I was thinking about why that memory would be triggered for a full season, and I landed on the idea that something in the environment (like a particular scent) that Alberto associated with his dad leaving, could make an entire season difficult. So I was playing around with that idea!

______: *✧･ﾟ:*___ >><(((・> ______ >><(((・> ____ _: *✧･ﾟ:*__

Spring was in the air, sweet and verdant, and flower petals floated through the air as Luca stepped off the train and into the Portorosso train station. School was on break for a week for the Easter holidays, and Luca had opted to spend the time back home, while Giulia stayed with her mom.

Luca heaved his travel bag off the train steps and looked around the platform. He saw Alberto and Massimo standing in the corner of the station. Alberto was looking off into the distance, not focused on what or who was in front of him. Massimo was lightly patting him on the shoulder and pointing to Luca.

“Beto!” Luca shouted, trying to get his attention.

Alberto shook his head, like he was clearing his brain of fog, and then locked eyes with Luca. “Luca!”

Alberto’s arms were strong and warm as Luca crashed into them. Luca wrapped his own arms around Alberto and squeezed. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Alberto whispered, hugging Luca tight.

And Luca noticed that something felt off about his friend. Maybe it was in the way he seemed to cling onto Luca for the hug, but barely touched him once they let go.

Maybe it was that there was a hollowness in his voice and a distance in his eyes. Like he was here physically, but not mentally, when he told Luca that he could stay in Massimo’s house, if he wanted. And that he’d already asked Luca’s parents if that was okay, and they said it was.

Luca picked up his bag and followed Alberto and Massimo out of the station. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about his friend.

[continued below the cut]

___

“Aren’t the flowers beautiful?” Luca asked. He and Alberto were walking under a trellis lined with wisteria and roses. The flowers wept through the openings, trailing down to brush the tops of their heads as they passed. Luca picked one of the wisteria buds and tucked it behind Alberto’s ear. “They’re almost the same color as your scales.”

Alberto pressed his lips together and took the flower from behind his ear. He looked at it for a moment before turning to Luca and putting it behind his hear. “Maybe you should wear it then, so we’ll match.”

“Oh, well,” Luca touched the flower. The delicate petals mixing with his curls. “We could both wear flowers.”

Luca reached up to grab another one, and Alberto stopped him from reaching the wisteria blossoms.

“Please don’t,” Alberto’s voice caught in his throat. He cleared it with a cough. “I don’t really like how they smell.”

“Oh.” Luca said, retracting his hand. “I didn’t know.”

“’’Sokay,” Alberto shrugged. “I’d never told you.”

___

The rocks beneath Luca’s feet clicked together as he followed Massimo away from the boat. He watched Alberto check the fishing nets. From a distance, he looked sure of his actions, like they’d become second nature to him.

“Luca,” Massimo said, putting a hand on Luca’s shoulder. “Have you noticed that Alberto hasn’t been himself?”

“Yeah,” Luca responded slowly. “It’s like he’s not totally here.”

“Yes, exactly.” Massimo said. “He’s been like that for weeks.”

“For weeks?”

Massimo nodded. “Do you know anything that might cause him to be like that?”

“Not that I know of. Maybe it’s seasonal? He was never like this in the summer.”

“Could be.” Massimo said.

‘Do you think it’s something else?”

“I do not know what to think, ragazzo.” Massimo took his hand off Luca’s shoulder. “I just want him to feel better.”

____

Water sloshed around the sides of the Giulietta, as the boat came to a stop at a particularly good fishing spot. Massimo lowered the net into the water and waited for Alberto to drop anchor. When he didn’t Massimo said, “Luca would you mind dropping the anchor.”

“Of course.” Luca stood up, his leg brushing against Alberto’s, and dropped the anchor gently over the side. He imagined it sinking down and the plume of sand that’d follow as it hit the ground.

He sat back down next to Alberto, who was looking toward the island they’d meet. The island looked different in the spring. It was more colorful than Luca remembered. Flowers dotted the island, and on the side of the island opposite the tower, there was a wisteria tree. It was close enough to the water, then some of the branches floated on the surface, rolling with the gentle waves that came to shore.

Alberto’s eyes were unfocused, and Luca nudged him with his shoulder. “What are you looking at?”

Alberto blinked hard, squeezing his eyes shut, before looking down at the water. “Nothing.”

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” Luca said quietly. He placed a hand on Alberto’s knee. “You know you can share things with me, right?”

“I know,” Alberto’s eyes flicked up to Massimo and then back down to the water. “Everything is fine.”

Massimo shifted in his seat, like he was about to speak, but Luca held up a hand to stop him. “What do you say about going on a swim, Alberto?”

“We’re in the middle of fishing.”

“It’s a good idea,” Massimo said. “I can handle the fish.”

“Come on Beto,” Luca tugged on his hand. “The water’s nice.”

“Luca, it’s May. The water’s cold.”

“For humans maybe,” he teased. “Come on.”

Luca slipped into the water, feeling scales shimmer over his body. He splashed his face to finish the change. “It’s really nice Alberto.”

“I don’t know.” Alberto leaned over the edge of the boat to look at Luca.

Luca flicked some water at his face, purple dots appearing where he hit.

“Hey!” Alberto rubbed the scaled away. “What was that for?”

“I just thought it’d be funny.” Luca said, unsure.

“Well, it wasn’t funny, and I don’t want to swim.”

Luca watched as Massimo looked between Alberto and the island. “Alberto,” he said. “You can go swim. I won’t go anywhere. I promise. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to go back home.”

Alberto’s shoulders dropped. His lips pinched together, and he nodded slowly. “You promise?”

“Of course.” Massimo replied.

“Thank you, papa.” Alberto said. He slipped out of the boat and dipped his head under the water, before popping back up to face Luca. “Where to?”

Luca grabbed his hand and pulled him down.

___

They didn’t go so far down that they lost sight of Massimo’s boat, but they were deep enough that the sky distorted under the water and the currents would carry their bodies if they left them.

Luca flipped on his back and put his hands behind his head, letting the water roll over him. Alberto stayed curled up, his tail curling around a leg.

“So, what’s really going on?” Luca asked.

“Nothing, I told you.” Alberto glanced behind him at the island. Luca could see branches of wisteria floating on the water.

“Beto,” Luca flipped over and put a hand on Alberto’s arm, “you’re a terrible liar.”

“I am not.”

“You are, and that’s okay.” Luca smiled a little. “But you’ve been acting out of it, and it seems like something is wrong. You can talk to me. I’m here for you.”

Alberto pressed his lips together and looked off to the side of Luca’s face, as if he couldn’t look him in the eye. “You know my dad?”

“Massimo?”

“No, the other one.”

“Oh.” Luca squeezed Alberto’s shoulder, hoping the touch was reassuring. “What about him.”

“He left in the spring.”

Luca nodded, afraid saying anything would stop Alberto in his tracks.

“It was,” Alberto turned and pointed to the floating petals on the water. “there.”

“Under the wisteria?” Luca asked. Heart dropping as he recalled trying to give Alberto a flower from that same plant.

“Yeah.” Alberto dropped his head. “We were sitting there, under the flowers. It was a nice day, where the weather was finally starting to get warm again. He told me that he was leaving, and that I could watch after myself.”

Alberto’s eyes watered. “And then he left. And I sat under those flowers until the sun went down. I slept under that tree the first night too, and I thought— I thought if I didn’t leave then maybe he’d come back.”

“I’m so sorry Alberto.”

“Me too.” Luca pulled Alberto in for a hug, “You should tell Massimo. He’s been worried about you.”

Alberto shook his head, hiding it in Luca’s neck. He mumbled, “What if I tell him and he thinks my dad was right and leaves me too.”

“No.”

“What?” Alberto lifted his head a little.

“Massimo isn’t like that. You know that.” Luca put a hand on Alberto’s cheek. “You’ve got a Bruno in your head.”

Alberto gave a wet laugh. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

“I know you do.”

[nanasparadise]

“Paradise lost” Yan!Bruno x female reader

Hiya everyone! This is my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoy it 🥺

Summary: You live a pleasant and regular life as a curator in Naples, until a certain over-protective Capo turns it upside down...

TW: alcohol, drugs, stalking, cursing, noncon touching, mentions of violence and death, toxic relationship, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any type of yandere behaviour in real life.

You were living in a paradise. Your paradise. After having moved to Italy, you were finally able to lead the life of your dreams. The city of Naples with its gentle sea breeze, the vivid streets and the ancient architecture just felt right to you. Not to mention the people; you've met some of the most supporting individuals. Your friends helped you integrate in Italy and gave you some Italian classes in order to improve your, admittedly, quite basic Italian skills. Your job as a curator in an art museum fulfilled your passion. Your small, but very cozy flat felt as if it was sculpted for you. Even after having spent nearly a year in the city, you never regretted your decision to move there. That was until you met a certain peculiar man, who would change your whole life forever.

You spent the night at the bar with Analisa and Federico, your two closest friends. The trio consisting of you were a bit tipsy, because of one too many drinks. The intoxication offered you lots of fun though, as you were constantly laughing at the slightest things. At 4 a.m., you were finally shooed out of the pub by the annoyed owner. The three of you went outside of the bar. You inhaled gladly the cool night air, which put you a bit back to your senses. Your friends, on the other hand, remained tipsy while constantly gigglying and grinning. Analisa and Federico suggested to go back to their place, where they might continue enjoying the night with some pills. You smiled at them, but declined. Drugs weren't really up your alley. 

"Aww, come on Y/N!", Analisa pouted, "it will be fun!"

"No thanks, you guys. You know how I feel about drugs", you replied patiently. 

"Should we take you home, then?", Federico asked, forehead frowned in worries, "You know it can be dangerous out here all alone with the whole mafia." 

"I'll be fine, thank you. You should be more worried for the guys with my Krav Maga skills!", you joked, trying to ease your friend's concerns, “and by the way, you two better be careful with your pills!"

After having hugged them goodbye, you parted ways with your friends. The streets of Naples were mostly quiet. In the distance, you heard fainlty some music from a club. A few stray cats roamed in the shadows, watching you with their predatory eyes. Admitteldy, it made you feel a tad uncomfortable. "Stop it", you muttered to yourself, "Don't let a few cats play tricks on you." Still captured by the felines' gaze, you accidentally stumbled over the pavement. Before you could actually hit the floor, as you anticipated, a strong hand caught your upper arm and hindered the fall. You looked up to your saviour to thank them. It was a rather unusual man. He wore a unique white suit with black spoon-like dots on it and zippers and his black hair was cut in a bob. But what you noticed the most were his deep, ocean blue eyes, which stared back at you with concern. Even though he seemed rather strange, the man's whole atmosphere drew you in. As you kept contemplating him, a sudden thought crossed your mind. "Where did he come from so quickly? I didn't see anyone in the street", you pondered. The thought made you shiver slightly. Realising that you still shamelessly stared at the man, you decided to finally speak up. 

"Thank you for catching me, I guess I had one too many", you said humoursly to him, trying to relax the tense ambience. The handsome guy offered you a smile to your relief. 

"No need to thank me, signorina", he answered cheekily. Something about him calling you "Miss" didn't feel right to you. After all, you were a grown adult and not some teenage girl. 

"No really, thank you, I could have hurt me", you insisted politely. The man still held your arm. You were eyeing uncomfortably to it, hoping he would catch the hint. Luckily, he did so and retrieved his warm hand from your body. The man cleared awkwardly his throat and continued speaking.

"Are you alright though? It is dangerous to walk at night the streets in Naples, especially for a young lady." His worry for you was quite flattering, you admitted to yourself. 

"I am fine, thanks to you", you winked at him. You could swear his cheeks turned slightly pink, but because of the darkness, you couldn't be entirely sure. 

"May I accompany you home?", the man asked, "It would ease my mind if I knew you arrived home safely." You weren't sure how to react. Sure, he was beautiful, but did you really want a stranger to know where you lived? 

"Thank you for your kind offer, but my flat isn't far away, I will be there in a minute", you replied carefully. After all, Federico was right: there were many mafiosi in Naples, maybe he was one of them? Your suspicions towards him increased. The man seemed to feel your paranoia. He flashed you a reassuring smile that would have made every woman swoon over him. 

"I understand your suspiciousness fully,” he said smoothly, "but I do think it is not necessary in this case. If I wanted to cause you any harm, I'd have it done by now. After all, this is a quiet and dark street and no one would have witnessed anything." "Fair enough", you thought. He was right. He could have easily murdered you by now if he wanted to. And there was nothing harmful about letting him follow you, right? 

"Well, if you put it that way, then sure, I'd like that", you answered with a soft smile. You shouldn't have agreed. Oh Y/N, if only you knew, you would have went with your friends. Instead, you went home, the stranger remaining by your side. "By the way, I don't think I introduced myself. My name is Y/N." 

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N, I am Bruno."

Slowly, the two of you became friends. Bruno turned out to be a loyal and charming man. Being the ever so polite gentleman, you didn’t have a clue about the raven-haired man’s true intentions. Oh no, you were blissfully ignorant to his advances. In fact, he knew you before that fateful night. The capo - you didn’t actually know his real job as he kept smoothly tip-toeing around it - had been chasing an enemy Stand user in the art museum where you worked when his attentive gaze had fallen on your form. You had explained patiently to an elderly couple every little detail of the Veiled Christ statue. In that moment, Bruno hadn’t known why he had stopped just to stare at you. Maybe it was the way you had treated the couple with kindness, maybe the way your eyes had lit up with passion as you had talked about the subject that fascinated you. Bruno still wasn’t sure what exactly enchanted him when it came to you. All he was aware of was the fuzzy warmth in his stomach and his racing heartbeat whenever he glanced at you. And that he would never let go of that feeling. So, the young mafioso started following you from that day on. He wouldn’t necessarily call it stalking, he just wanted to make sure that you were alright. And look where it had led him to - if he hadn’t been there to watch over you, you would have hurt yourself, which Bruno couldn’t let happen, of course. He was convinced that you needed him in your life. The following months since the Italian man had been by your side, you were in total safety. 

But you also felt ultimately caged in. You were grateful for Bruno’s friendship, but it also smothered you. Every time you were trying to go out with your friends, he would ask about every tiny detail: where were you going, who did come with you, what were you doing and so on. Eventually, he’d always join you. 

“Cara,” he would say with pleading eyes, “I only want to protect you. The world is a dark place and Naples is its hell. I don’t want to witness how anyone takes advantage of your sweet innocence.”

“Somehow he always knows when I go out with them, too”, you wondered. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that the two of you were dating. Bruno did behave like an overly jealous and possessive boyfriend. Plus, he always acted super touchy and affectionate around you: a pet name here, an arm around your shoulders there. Every time you confronted him, he would laugh it off. “I guess I am bewitched by you, tesoro.” All of this made you feel uncomfortable. Still, you didn’t want to lose your friendship. So you kept quiet most of the time. 

Until one day, you talked to Analisa and told her about it. For once, you needed some other friend than Bruno to listen to you, someone who wouldn’t act like a partner around you. Luckily, you knew for a fact that he would be gone this evening due to his mysterious profession he never mentioned to you. So, you invited Analisa over to your flat to vent. The blue-haired woman listened attentively to your lamentations. The words just spilt out of your mouth until you realised you actually started crying. Analisa held you in her arms and tried to calm you down. “Hey, Y/N, it’s fine. he’s not around”, she kept repeating. Eventually, your sobs died slowly until you were left staring at Analisa puffy-eyed. “If I allow myself to share my piece of mind,” Analisa said angrily, “he is a pezzo di merda. Who does he think he is to behave like that? You’re not his girlfriend, and even if you were, he doesn’t have the right to treat you like you are his possession. You can do whatever the fuck you want.” Her furious words filtered through your brain. “She’s right”, you agreed silently. “And you know what else? I hate to see you down because of that asshole,”  Analisa continued, “But I’ve just got the perfect solution for that.” The blue-haired woman grinned as she took some small pills out of the pocket of her leather jacket. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

At first you weren’t sure about taking the hallucinogens, since you never took drugs before. But for once, just for once, you wanted to escape reality. When did your little paradise turn into hell? You thought, you valued your friendship with Bruno, but now, all you wanted to do was to run away from him. The drug slowly started to kick in as you felt your head spinning. The dizziness made you feel light, as if you were about to fly away any moment. Analisa started to giggle next to you, already high. Suddenly, you began seeing black dots around you, coming closer and closer. “Weren’t these the dots on Bruno’s suit?”, you thought anxiously. They were talking to you, calling you principessa, amore mio, stella mia and many more terms of endearment. The dots turned into hands, touching you everywhere. But you decided to not give in. Not this time. Instead, you transformed your fear into anger. You energetically pushed away all the hands until they scurried away. Your rage wasn’t quenched yet, though.Under the effect of the drug, your fury was amplified significally. You took your phone and called Bruno. You wanted to let your frustration out on him, not only on the creations of your mind of him. He picked up immediately after the first ringing. “Y/N?”, he asked, worry dripping from his voice, “Are you alright? You don’t call normally. Should I come to you? I can drop my work just-”

“Bruno,” you interrupted him abruptly, “stop it. STOP IT. I can’t take this shit anymore. You cling onto me like some lovesick puppy and I’m done. Who the fuck are you even? I hardly know your name and you behave as if we were married. Guess what, you’re not even my boyfriend.” It was quiet for an instant. At first, you thought he hung up, but then you heard a slight chuckle from the other end of the phone. “The fuck?”, you thought, “Did he now completely have lost his mind?” 

“Y/N, is that what it takes to call me? Being high?”, the Italian man replied. Another bitter laugh espaced his mouth. You weren’t sure if he knew about your current state, because of your atypical rage or simply because he seemed to know everything about you without you telling anything. “Another reason for him to leave me alone.” 

“I bet one of your lovely friends gave you a pill, didn’t they?”, Bruno continued, seemingly angry now, too, “You know how I feel about drugs, right?”

You didn’t answer, your fear suddenly coming back. The room around you started to spin more and more. 

“Right?”, Bruno growled again. 

“Y-yes”, you stuttered eventually. 

“Good. I assume you’re in your apartment. Stay there and don’t make anything stupid anymore. I’ll be there soon. Clearly, you need me even more than I thought you would.” With these words, Bruno hung up, leaving you even more confused and frightened. Your body started trembling terribly. You didn’ t know if it was because of the drug or your pitless fear. Analisa, coming back to senses again, realised your bad state and immediately rushed over to you. 

“Shit Y/N, what happened?”, she inquired, worry written in her eyes. You explained to her the situation as best as you could in your foggy condition. “Fuck, I should have never given you the drug,” Analisa replied remorsefully, “I take full responsibility. I’ll call the cops before that bastard arrives here, I don’t care if they find my drugs, we’ve gotta do-”. The woman was interrupted by a loud knock on your door. 

“Y/N?”, Bruno shouted, “I know you’re in there. Open the door please.” 

“What are we doing now?”, you cried desperately. You didn’t even know why you reacted that way. Bruno never gave you a serious reason to be scared of him, but now, after the phone call, your gut feeling told you to run away as fast as you could. 

“I’ll call them now”, Analisa replied hastily, looking for her phone. But it was too late. Bruno broke the door in, his stern gaze resting on you. “Since when was he so strong?” 

“Analisa,” the man said, not breaking eye contact with you for a single moment, “give me your phone and walk away.” 

“Are you mad?”, the blue-haired woman shouted furiously, “I’m not gonna leave Y/N alone with you after that.” 

“Give me your phone and walk away, now”, the man repeated gloomly. His eyes, normally a serene blue ocean, turned into a destructive storm. Bruno smashed his fist into the wall, leaving it with a gaping hole. “If you don’t leave immediately,” he growled, “your family will suffer great consequences. Your little sister Teresa? She will die in a tragic car accident. Your father Marco? He will die of liver failure for drinking too much. Or so will be the official reports.” You stared big-eyed at Bruno, your fear only increasing. There was no doubt now that he worked with the mafia. Analisa slowly walked past you, tears falling down her cheeks, as she softly said sorry to you. Her phone was resting on your couch. Once she was gone, you broke down completely. What was he going to do? Bruno stood now in front of you, dragging you ungently by your arm and monitoring you to your bedroom. Was he really going to…? 

“No, no, no, NO!” What first started with a whisper ended in a bloodcurdling scream. The Italian didn’t stop though, pushing you instead on your bed. He seemed to be tired of your behaviour. Bruno sighed deeply, finally speaking to you now. 

“Y/N, I’m not going to do such thing. I just want you to realise, that you behave recklessly and I can’t let you continue like this. I just want to protect you. Look at you, being high now.” He gestured elegantly at you with his slim hand. What was he talking about? Your hallucinations had stopped the minute Bruno knocked on your door. 

“I am not high anymore”, you simply replied. 

“Are you sure about that?”, the raven-haired man replied. His eyes began to glimmer darkly. Suddenly, you witnessed how your legs were zipped away. 

“What the fuck?”, you screamed desperately. What was happening? You were sure, that this wasn’t the effect of the drug, that Bruno somehow did this to your body. “What are you doing to my legs? I-I kn-o-ow that you a-are z-z-ziping them off of m-me”, you stuttered anxiously. 

“What do you mean? I can’t see such thing”, Bruno replied coolly. “As I said, you are hallucinating.” 

“I am not hallucinating, you are doing this to me! I know you do! Please, stop it. Stop it...”. Your pleads turned into ear-piercing sobs. Tears clouded your vision as you desperately tried to grasp for air. 

“Hush, cara.” Bruno was suddenly next to you on your bed, draping his arm over your shoulders and whispering in your ear. “This is all in your mind. You need to sleep now. Tomorrow, everything will be fine again. I will stay by your side and protect you.” His warm breath grazed your earshell. The man nuzzled your hair, admiring its smooth texture and lovely scent. “I will always be with you.”

Eventually, after all your crying, you did fall asleep in Bruno’s arms. The latter kept stroking your cheek, marveling your soft breathing and beautiful face. Of course he felt a tinge of guilt for having used Sticky Fingers on you. Your desperate cries as you called him for help still pained him. But you needed to learn your lesson. Bruno could tolerate a lot, but drugs weren’t on that list. He would give Analisa a quick visit to make sure she’ll never talk to you again. Or to anyone, for a matter of fact. You didn’t need such a bad influence. “Not my sweet Y/N”, he whispered in your locks. “From tomorrow on, you will live with me, where I can always protect you. Now, doesn’t that sound like paradise?”

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   f l u f f v e m b e r   2 0 2 0   ♡ 

♡  week one  —  kageyama tobio   |   long-distance relationship

♡  summary  —   getting into a relationship with kageyama was close to impossible, that you knew. nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from developing feelings for him and eventually becoming more than friends. he was constantly training and didn’t have a lot of time to spend by your side, but once kageyama found himself remembering your laugh on his way home, he decided to do whatever it took to make the relationship work.

♡  playlist

the moon song   -   beabadoobee & oscar lang home   -   bruno major blueberry eyes   -   max & suga

♡  masterlist  ♡

Every morning, Kageyama wakes up at the same hour. He puts on his running shoes, grabs his phone, keys and earphones and hits the streets. It’s been his routine since he started playing volleyball. While he ran, Kageyama preferred to keep his mind focused in his steps, the weight he was putting on his heels and toes, his heart rhythm and his mind replaying the sets he had done the day before. He didn’t see running as something he did before he trained, but as part of the training itself. Kageyama was very adamant against listening to music or a podcast during his morning runs. 

Everything changed after he met you.

Kageyama puts on his earphones and goes through his mail inbox. Like most days, he sees your name on his most recent unopened email. He downloads the audio attachment and presses play before shoving his phone back to his pocket.

“Good morning Tobio!”

His lip twitches upward.

“So, you must be sleeping right now. Which sucks! Because I just got home from work. Yes, I got safe, don’t worry. Mika and her boyfriend dropped me at my place right now. Remember Mika, my coworker? Yeah. Hey boyfriend always picks her up when we have shifts until one in the morning and they drive me home. I’m kind of tired right now.”

Kageyama hears a long yawn on your side, followed by a thud that he imagines it’s you laying on your bed.

“Let me put on some music,” you say, and a few seconds later he listens to a tune he thinks he’s heard before. “Today’s classes were just okay. I got a grade back but it wasn’t what I expected.”

“But, what can you do?” Kageyama mouths along with your voice.

“Work was also okay. Mika and I spent most of the night talking, she had had a small fight with her boyfriend and asked me for advice. It wasn’t really a big thing, you see…”

The next few minutes, Kageyama listens to you ramble about your friend and her boyfriend, but he has to admit he is paying more attention to your voice than what you were saying. He imagines himself watching you talk and the expressions he had seen you make the first time he had seen you. The tip of your tongue sticking out between your teeth after you laughed at something you shouldn’t have laughed about, the slight pout on your lips as you talked about something you didn’t like or the attentive way your eyes fixated on him while he talked about volleyball.

“Anyway, I know you don’t really care about this,” you say. “But it’s really nice to imagine you listening to me talk during your morning runs. Is it already cold there? I hope you put something on if it is. Not trying to tell you what to do. I know you, more than anyone, take your health very seriously, but I guess I can’t help but worry,” you chuckle. You stay quiet for a moment, and Kageyama basks in the comfort your silence provides.

His mind goes back to those Sunday nights when he’s watching past games on his laptop while he’s face timing with you. You are usually taking a cup of coffee, trying to forget you’ve only slept five hours after getting home from your shift at the bar. You know he has to get to bed in a couple of hours so he can get enough rest for this Monday practice, so you treasure those small moments when the time difference and both your busy schedules let you share a moment. Kageyama’s eyes are fixated on his laptop and you take the opportunity to revise some of your lessons, most of the time finding out there was a paper due next week you had forgotten about.

Every once in a while you take a look at your phone and see Kageyama’s dark eyes glued to his laptop. You bury your nose on the Schweiden Adlers hoodie he sent you last month and even if your boyfriend’s smell has almost completely worn off, you still find comfort in wearing his clothes.

When Kageyama comes back to his house to get ready for training, your voice is no longer in his ears. You always made sure not to surpass the usual time he spends running. He takes a look at the dual clock on his phone and realizes you must be still in class, so he refrains from sending a text and hops on the shower.

The fourteen hour difference between the both of you had seemed like a wall impossible to climb. Not only that but his intense training schedule plus your uni classes and your part time job also took most of your energy and it was a rare occurrence that you could sit in front of a computer at the same time.

But the connection was something he had never experienced before. He had been invited to a foreign university overseas for a tournament. The day before it started, the team had gone to the campus to get to know the facilities, and after they were done, Kageyama had left them to buy something to drink from a vending machine. Not being able to find any, he asked for directions and took the elevator to the cafeteria, not noticing someone carrying a couple of books under their arms standing next to him.

Now it seemed almost fate to remember how the elevator malfunctioned and he had to spend the next two hours with you. After pressing the Emergency button and being told it would be a while, you introduced yourself with a smile. He wasn’t really enthusiastic about getting to know each other but it all changed after he mentioned he was there because of a volleyball tournament. Kageyama can still remember your eyes widening and the questions that followed, all centered about his true passion. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the floor of the elevator, while he explained in broken English every position in volleyball and what they were supposed to do. Even though you hadn’t played any sports seriously outside of school, the fact this guy was talented enough to get invited overseas to play had spiked your attention, and you asked question after question so you could understand more about volleyball.

“So the setter is basically the key player, right?” you had asked, while he scribbled on the notebook you had lent him so he could explain.

Kageyama tried not to smile. He really did.

After you asked him about the tournament schedule and wrote down the name of his team, you promised you would do your best to make it to the game. Kageyama had never really cared about people coming to his games to watch but, once he had won the first game as was leaving the court, his eyes unexpectedly met yours and he saw you waving at him for the bleachers with a smile. He nodded at you and as he disappeared through the gym door he thought maybe someone going to see his games wasn’t so bad.

One week later, Kageyama’s team had won the tournament, and since you had asked for his number while waiting inside the elevator, you offered to buy him something from the cafeteria after the final match. This time, he took the time to listen to you ramble about your career, and how enthusiastic you were about it. He didn’t understand most of the things you talked about, most of your words sounding foreign and new to him. But the one detail he did recognize at first glance was the way your pupils dilated while you spoke. Your hands moved faster than usual as you tried to explain, and you even used the salt shaker on the table as a prop to help you out. The glimmer in your eyes was the same nature as the burn he used to feel in his chest whenever he talked about volleyball. You promised to stay in contact and gave him a small but tight hug when it was his time to leave. He hoped you didn’t notice the pink tint on his cheeks before you went away.

Your love confession came two months after he was back in Japan, followed by the longest and hardest conversation the two of you had ever had. He explained his strict training schedule and you talked about your university increasing the hardness of the classes you took and how little time you had left. A long silence filled the room, and you realized maybe you should have kept the confession to yourself. It was never going to work. There were too many impediments so maybe it would have been better to push down whatever you felt. In the end, you two weren’t supposed to meet and--

“I’d like to try it.”

You can still remember the blush on his cheeks and furrowed eyebrows after blurting out those words. You smiled brightly at him and nodded, enthusiastically.

“I’d like to try too.”

It had been one year and six months since then. To find someone who not only understood his crazy schedule but was passionate about their own work felt surreal to Kageyama. Your plan was to finish your career in your home country and then move to Japan. You had been auditing the Japanese classes at your uni and taking a part time job to be able to support yourself as you settled in a new country. All of those changes meant less time to be able to talk with Kageyama as much as you did before. He assured you he understood, even if he would never admit out loud he missed you as well.

The situation prompted you to find other ways to feel close to him, hence why Kageyama woke up almost every day with a new audio file from you. You went from talking about your day to making him listen to music and even took the chance to practice your japanese. His English listening skills had also gotten better in the past year, all thanks to talking with you and how you would slow down your pace and repeat yourself if he ever needed to. While you recorded your audios after work, he usually recorded his after practice while he walked home from practice. Even if he was always a little worried about the length, you always made sure to send him messages about how happy you were to hear his voice while you ate your lunch or walked to your job after your classes.

Kageyama finishes his shower and comes back to his room. He gets ready in less than ten minutes in silence, knowing he doesn’t have any time to spare if he wants to get to the practice in time. Winter break is a month away, and he wants to give his best before he’s forced to step away for a couple of weeks. He has never liked holidays stepping in his routine, but he knows there was nothing he could do but endure and wait for his training to resume.

Before he leaves, Kageyama checks his phone again and opens the newest email.

Congratulations! Your flight booking is confirmed.

Okay, maybe he is looking forward to winter break after all.

[aliceinreverselondon]

They got no idea about me and you (Bruno Bangnyfe x reader)

note: This one was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “Dress”. Happy 3rd birthday, reputation!

The annual Wing Bind Ball was here and Bruno still hated it with every inch of his body. Even if it wasn’t the boring, old-fashioned ball it used to be, people were still trying way too hard to be on their best behavior. Weren’t they there to have fun? Be this serious on the job, not at a party.

But this year’s event was different for two reasons. Next year’s ball would be organized by the Inks therefore he had to officially pick up the baton and promise to throw the best party even blah blah blah… And the more important reason was you. As the deputy director of the Billionaires you were in charge of the event which meant you couldn’t just sneak off to spend time together. You both had responsibilities and general priorities that night.

Also, no one knew you were together. This certainly made things a lot more complicated. And interesting. And maybe a little more exciting. Would you be able to interact without people finding out the truth? Could you even find an opportunity to do so?

The thing is, it wasn’t easy to find you alone since everybody wanted to talk to you about the event. When he had followed the protocol and congratulated Harry for the success of the party, he casually pointed out that you did most of the work and so people should bother you instead of him. No wonder every guest wanted a piece of you. Letting out a sigh, Bruno pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to type a message in the encrypted app you used for written communication.

Bruno: I’d like to congratulate in person. It’s strictly professional, of course. Harry told me you’re the brain and heart behind this.

Y/N: Then why don’t you come over here now?

With a wolfish smile he looked up from the screen and searched the room to find you. When your eyes locked, he could immediately tell you felt the same way he did. Keeping this safe distance and acting like there was nothing between you two was the worst thing he had to endure lately. He wanted to pull you close and kiss you and be affectionate but he couldn’t do it. You weren’t alone which would surely make this encounter even worse. Did he want that? Did you want that?

Bruno: I don’t like to share.

Bruno: Also, I don’t think we should be alone in a room full of people because I’m not sure I could behave.

At first you only smiled at him, but then you rolled your eyes.

Y/N: I can’t recall the last time you could behave.

Bruno: Ouch.

Y/N: But it’s true and you know it.

Bruno: Yeah, but still, you shouldn’t say it.

Y/N: You said it would be strictly professional. Come on, I don’t bite.

Bruno: Not in public 😏

Y/N: Hey!

He screwed up with that last one. Not because you got mad but because now his mind couldn’t stop playing reruns of the times you had playfully bit him in the bedroom. The two of you made a great team and he wished you could make your relationship official. But telling HR about it would come with a lot of paperwork and neither of you wanted to deal with bureaucracy. Normally, he preferred to follow the rules, but this time he simply didn’t feel like filling out a bunch of stupid forms.

Before he knew it, Bruno was surrounded by fellow members of the Inks and he had no choice but to focus on that conversation instead of you. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket over and over again, probably because you were bombing him with messages that he couldn’t check right away. He had to try and stay patient, even if it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. His body wanted to act on its own, reaching for the device the moment he didn’t focus on self-control, so it took a lot of effort not do it.

It was only a painfully slowly passing hour later when he could finally get away from people long enough to check his messages. There were quite a lot of them along with a few missed calls from you. But calls? Why would you call him? You had previously agreed not to do that to avoid suspicion.

Y/N: I have a surprise.

Y/N: Don’t you want to know what it is?

Y/N: Bruno, don’t ignore me, please!

Y/N:

Y/N: Please, answer your phone, it’s important!

Y/N: You know I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t.

Y/N: Fine: Harry can’t stay until the end of the party so I’ll be the one on stage with you!

Y/N: Because of this change ‘sadly’ we have to discuss the choreography of the whole thing.

Y/N: And when I say discuss it…

Bruno didn’t believe it at first, and he couldn’t decide if Harry really had to leave this early or if you just somehow managed to convinced him. Either way, he liked it. No, he loved it. He really loved the idea of finally spending some time alone with you.

Bruno: How about the meeting room on the top floor? They said we can use it.

Bruno: Hello, Y/N! So do you wanna meet?

Bruno: I can bully you as well, you know.

Bruno: 

Y/N: Sorry, Harry wants to talk to me about something before he leaves.

Y/N: We’ll meet on stage soon!

Y/N: PS: I love you 🧡😙

Bruno:

He watched the screen for a while but apparently you hadn’t even seen the message yet. So much for his plan to kiss you before leaving. Or to do so much more in that meeting room where an employee would have temporarily turned off the security cameras. Harry isn’t the type to respect the meetings of the Top of Horns and now Bruno knew that apparently, he was also the master of cockblocking.

But at least this gave him a little time to think. He hated this. He truly hated that the two of you had to hide all the time. Maybe he should bother with that stupid paperwork after all. And then he suddenly realized that being on that stage together in front of all those Wing Bind employees actually gave him the chance to prove you he was serious about this relationship.

Later, just before he was about to join you on stage, Bruno took a deep breath. This was for the best. He had to do it. So he walked up the small stairs, briefly waving at the crowd then stopping next to you in front of a microphone. You were talking but he couldn’t focus on the words. He was losing his patience. He couldn’t stand the idea of standing so close to you any longer without doing anything.

“Oh, fuck it,” he said quietly before putting a hand on the back of your neck and pulling you close for a kiss. Not a simple little peck on the lips. No. It was the kind of passionate kiss he desperately needed after pining after you all evening. When he pulled away with a wide grin on his lips, he noticed how confused you looked. You clearly enjoyed it and didn’t even try to stop him but it was surely unexpected. Clearing his throat, Bruno turned back to the crowd. “Okay, okay, you can stop murmuring. Yes, we’re together. Yes, I love her. Yes, I’ll do the paperwork on Monday,” he added, looking at the head of HR. “We hope you had fun tonight, see you next year and so on. Bye!”