posted sunday idc

[geminids]

↧ saturday, holiday party

broderick's house is full of people, laughter, and wine... so, so much wine. and bracken loves it all. he's slicing a baguette beside broderick, who's armed with a corkscrew and a fresh bottle of some fancy magicked red, when two of the wizard's colleagues get into a debate about the best shape for potion vials. (fucking nerds.) they trade good-natured and childish barbs until one scoffs and calls the other a pwrs.

it means 'purse' and 'nutsack,' which makes it the best homonym bracken's learned so far. he snorts a laugh. broderick freezes mid-(cork)screw, jaw slack, dumbfounded. a brief squabble — bracken understood that? did he learn insults? ... he learned welsh? bracken gets all he ever wanted (a kiss, gratitude laced with lingering shock, that borders on inappropriate). when he only answers follow-up questions with a smarmy little grin, broderick shoves the wine at a bystander and drags bracken to a room, out of sight. they don't reappear until later.

↧ sunday, london

"i take it off when i'm inside. ma'am." bracken doffs his beaver felt hat for the the illustrious mrs. harriet parish — grant's momma, brook's nan, the woman who'd extended a special invitation to join her at sunday service. she called it an olive branch, her son called it a test. bracken called it a necessary evil and donned his sunday best to try his very best, everything ironed and clean and crisp, polished when necessary. he even has cufflinks! he'd been raised to raise hell across the mountain states and he can face the matriarch of the parish clan.

and yet.

(they down cocktails and oysters for two and a half hours after church and apparently bracken's attending a polo match next month.)

---

ok nobody let me wear the hat next time. anyways tell me what's good

Comments

[arietids]

Too affectionate. I need something dripping with the disdain of an old British woman.

[abracadavers]

Troglodyte, blithering idiot, cretinous pillock, cockwomble...

I was told once by some old bat that it was always lovely to meet the Welsh because it reminded her of the virtues of the English.

[geminids]

these're supposed to be insults for ME [...] that last one's pretty funny though

[abracadavers]

I'm being helpful and bonding with your brother who in fact is a complete pillock himself.

[geminids]

ain't gonna get in the way of bonding. how dare i

[abracadavers]

It's your Christmas present. Us getting along.

[geminids]

well it's weird so stop it

[abracadavers]

I love Briar, he might be my best mate.

[geminids]

guess keda and i gotta go get breakup manis done. maybe pawn her ring. shame of a day.

[abracadavers]

Oh, gross.

[geminids]

i hope you n your best mate have a happy life together y'allre cute

[abracadavers]

[...] So happy. The happiest.

[arietids]

You two getting married now? Can just reuse the ring.

[geminids]

and we thought my days of marrying ladies were over!!!!!! wow. the curveballs life throws at us huh

[arietids]

Sounds like this time you get to be the wife sometimes at least.

[osmotheque]

Huh. What an odd way for one to find out such things.

[geminids]

you can be the husband this time if it makes you feel better

[osmotheque]

Whatever would suit you best, aşkım.

[arietids]

Wow.

[arietids]

Thanks, striking off the last one since he thinks it's funny.

Did you curse her out?

[abracadavers]

It's enormously frustrating when a well crafted insult doesn't hit because he giggles.

Obviously, I have a reputation to uphold.

[arietids]

Well now he knows how to diffuse them.

Of course. Man who fights old women.

[abracadavers]

He already knew, that's why he giggles. The fuckwit.

And wins.

[arietids]

I blame you.

And you're so proud of it.

[abracadavers]

I blame you.

Damn right.