EXILE.

KELLAN: Romantic. I’m sold.

SAGE: Feel like dancing under the light of the full moon?

SABINE: Because I missed you :(

SABINE: Honestly, my phone has been acting up a lot today, so any calls have been accidental! But I do miss you!

NERINA: Cute.

NERINA: Annoying, but cute.

MICAH: i think you're doing a hell of a lot better than i or anyone else could do with it

MICAH: i like to think i know my future wife best 😌

MARI: Oh, Micah. That's so sweet.

MARI: I just want to make the other Taurai proud, you know?

[...]

HERSHEL: Unfortunately. It's humiliating, but we all die one way or the other.

HERSHEL: Except I die in approx. 925 ways.

HERSHEL: And counting.

KELLAN: It's my only dream, of course.

SHILOH: im gonna let u grieve for another 2 months and then tell u thats a dramatic claim, but ill let you have it for today

SHILOH: ok well light was manipulating everyone, not just u, and that says more abt her

SHILOH: it was a learning experience. nxt time someones a dick, u should be able to pick up on it ahead of time. boom.

AMARA: I don't think it's dramatic.

GRETCHEN: some things are better left unsaid, buddy

GRETCHEN: that was definitely one of them

GRETCHEN: why did you try and sleep with your cousin? you didn't actually do it, correct?

[...]

JACK: This will go a lot faster if you play the game. You're actually dragging this out by saying you won't play the game, so you might as well cave early.

JACK: Ainsley. Does that name register to you guys at all?

“Is it true? That you’ve heard… they might be in Polaris? That she might be here?” ( @moonlightscnatas​ )

“Keep your voice down. But yes, it’s true. I’ve been doing my best to track them, but that’s not my particular brand of magic and they’re clearly evasive. Any help you’d like to give me would be most welcome.”

“Who do I talk to if I have a… problem? Just, like, a hypothetical problem, but like, a problem that requires an adult?” ( @moonlightscnatas​ )

Alaric suddenly realizes that he’s an adult.

Shit.

“Er-- hypothetically, of course,” Alaric begins, “You could talk to someone you trust, like a professor, or a friend that you’d confide in. But... I’m not totally sure what you mean, as I’m fairly certain you are also an adult.”

Dropping onto the couch with a sigh, Zoë falls onto her back, head pillowed on her pack mate’s thighs. “I would be a bitch and ask you to get me coffee,” she confesses, lips kicking up into a smile that’s far too pretty to be that mischievous, “but that would require you to stand up, and then I’d lose my pillow and I am not emotionally stable enough for that.” Ever the annoying one, she reaches up, gently poking her finger into his cheek. “How’s your day been? Boring without me, I must assume.”   ・ 「 @moonlightscnatas​ ! 」

As Zoë rests her head on his thigh, Callum immediately feels a sense of protectiveness wash over him. She’s his pack mate, and by law and blood he’d do anything for her. If she needs to rest, he’ll keep her safe. He’ll watch her back and give her the shady spot on a blistering day. Blood of my blood echoes through his mind, and he wrinkles his nose as she pokes his cheek. “No moving,” He insists, as he waves his hand clumsily and transfigures his bottle of water into a cup of coffee. He summons it, but it spills a little on the way. “Whoops. Uh-- my day was okay! Got through my classes. You know, the usual. Still working on this whole spellcasting thing. I’m getting better, I think. How was your day?”

Imogen’s arm loops around his neck while her other hand slides up his chest and settles on his shoulder, thumb stroking across his jawline. She needs to be up in two hours for work, but even now, she’s content spending that time with him. 

“You should start training your managers to hold down the fort better.” It’s a gentle tease, one punctuated by a soft kiss and a barely-there smirk. “Take a day off here and there.” It’s wishful thinking, which Imogen knows, but coming home each evening to an empty house and sitting alone until dawn, well—she misses him. But it’s wishful thinking.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat? Or do you want to go straight to bed?” Imogen finds herself marginally more awake now, if only because she’s not about to waste the time she does get with him. If he wants to sleep, or to eat, or a bath, or sex— he gets it, no further questions, no complaints.

Any time spent with Imogen is precious, and Luc can’t help himself from wanting her to stay awake, stay with him. But he’s trying to not be selfish, and consider her needs. It’s difficult. From the time he was a young boy, he was always trying to take care of his sister. Now, he feels the pull to take care of Imogen. She doesn’t need it, but he’s weak.

“No, no, darling,” Luc replies, kissing her on the top of her head as he takes her into his arms. “It’s late. Or-- early. You need rest. Sleep, and then once you go for work I’ll worry about myself.” He takes her hand and makes a motion of leading her to their bedroom. Honestly, he’ll be happy just to hold her.

For once in his life, Boo actually is sitting quietly at the time he’s being called out. He’s not fidgeting, he’s not looking in his backpack for snacks, he’s not trying to sing along— he’s just listening, as was the intent when he’d walked in, but. For some reason, the other guy doesn’t seem to have listened. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he dismisses, completely missing the fact that it wasn’t actually meant to be an apology. “I was just, uh…” Boo waves his hand vaguely to the door behind him. “Walking past and I liked whatever you were playing, so. I’m just listenin’.” He doubles down, stretching his legs out and crossing one ankle over the other. Boo points at the piano. “Carry on. Wait, actually, before you start again— any chance you got some snacks?”

You don’t have to be sorry.

Well yeah, Emmett knows that, but it’s polite. Or at least he thinks it’s polite to say sorry even when he doesn’t know what to do in this situation. As soon as Boo compliments his playing, he’s instantly mollified and not on the defensive. Still, Boo shouldn’t like his playing, because the last time he played in this close vicinity to someone, he killed the,. “Oh,” is Emmett’s very eloquent reply. “Um, no, I don’t have any snacks, but I actually have to-- go--”

Emmett grabs for his bag and gives Boo an apologetic smile. “Sorry for-- uh-- you know. Bothering you.”

“An American one.” It’s as much shade as Matilda typically allows herself to throw; she grins playfully, admittedly feeling a little bit like the world was righting itself as Alaric agrees to the friend-date. She needs, more than anything, a night of escapism on the couch with her best friend, and nothing more complicated than that. “Both, obviously. I have to say I have been— Goodness, I’ve been craving strawberry cheesecake, so if you happen across that, I wouldn’t be mad.” Though she still clings to him, she swings back to his side as to no longer block his path. There’s a moment of hesitation before she asks her next question: “How are things with Lucia?”

“Those Americans,” Alaric scoffs, any trace of a Danish accent long gone over the eons that he’s been around. If the lady wants strawberry cheesecake, then Alaric will transfigure something into one himself if he has to. But one quick call and a charming smile into Galatea should get him exactly what he wants. “I live to serve,” he gives her a mock bow and grins, already wondering how he’ll have to atone for a last-minute strawberry cheesecake. At her next comment, he pauses. “Well... we’re both here,” he shrugs. “How are things with Nix?”