#editor's notes coming soon!

[portraitoflestatonfire]

louis de pointe du lac - the archer || youtube

[livesincerely]

“It’s been made extremely clear that Prince Johnathan has an abundance of stalwart defenders,” Lord Matthews says, circling David with the slow saunter of a lion considering it’s prey. He gives David a long, considering look, the corner of his mouth pulling back into a sneer. “You, in particular, have proven to be incredibly vigilant.”

“I’ll always be there to protect him,” David vows, fists clenched at his sides.

Matthews smiles—a treacherous, ugly thing.

“But who’s going to protect you?” he muses.

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 6)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor's adoptive daughter is in hell, let's hope she doesn't get eaten alive!)

(the singing lines you'll encounter were meant to not be in order.. you'll understand once you read it hehe >:) )

(caution: alastor being lowkey a bit manipulative? not too terrible but just word of caution.)

(tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

my editor <3: @kruncher

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more.

You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class.

You then chose to immediately face the Princess once again, eyes on her entirely "but.. um.. Yes!.. Princess Charlie, I saw you at the courtroom presenting your case and I just have to say I'm very inspired!... and I would like to contribute to your cause somehow!.." you paused yourself from speaking too much into it.. wanting to save certain parts for only her ears to hear.

"I also would need to get back home.. and I know you have that sort of influence in Hell to get me a way in Heaven again!-- o...oh..-"

You felt your skin crawl as you barely acknowledged a suddenly teleported Alastor to your side, his staff holding up your injured wing gently to get a good look at the bandaged injury.. his eyes narrowing and a 'hmm' softly escaping his throat. 

A threatening spark in his eye flashed which resulted in your injured wing suddenly moving away from him, despite that flash not being for you specifically. 

In his usual Alastor fashion he seemed very collected, but it was a bit obvious he was much intrigued at your presence and your bandage.

Charlie seemed to finally catch her bearings, moving a few frazzled strands of hair away from her face. "Well.. Welcome either way! We can definitely do that! I will admit I only managed to get through to heaven thanks to my dad but I'm sure he can come up with some sort of way to get you back home!" she seemed to look at your halo and wings, your status as an angel very well seen and she was honestly a bit frazzled by a 'winner' falling down in here all of a sudden.

Rosie gently laid her hand on Alastor's shoulder "Poor little thing ain't she? Susan got her wing real good but I fixed her up right in the nick of time! no infection will harm her further."

Alastor's radio shriek happened again but in a much softer pitch "Susan did this?" There was a quick pause before Alastor spoke up again, "Oh I'll have to talk with Susan soon! How impolite could that old woman be! The senior citizens these days.." he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before Charlie spoke up again.

"Well!-- _____ was it? Let me see if I can get Vaggie to sho--"

"Nonsense!" Interrupted Alastor, almost practically jumping in between Charlie and yourself with a very odd excitement. "Why, I'll help of course! It is quite simple just taking a new guest to their new room!"

Charlie smiled half heartedly "Alastor that's so helpful of you! Just.. don't scare our guest please. I know how interesting you can.. get." the end of her sentence dragged on, as if dreading what he's capable of doing. "Oh and no deals! This is a freedom-oriented place! We don't want any souls to be collected here please.." she then just gave you two a thumbs up, a bit exhausted but still uplifting.

"Meanwhile I'll talk to Rosie here about her cannibals and how we intend to also keep them safe! While they also get their-- fill!.."

Alastor seemed to slither his arm around yours, elbows interlocking. "How exciting! There's so much to show you around here in the Hazbin Hotel! Gosh it'll make you wish to stay down here forever!" A loud cackle could be heard from him that eventually morphed into a bunch of static-covered laugher.

Your body froze as you were dragged away by Alastor up the velvet red steps, not even getting a chance to properly thank Rosie and Charlie.

You're stuck with him now.

Lucky you.

Getting dragged by Alastor was as if a swarm of wasps was lingering on your arm; absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

You stayed quiet as he continued to ramble, talking nonsense about hell, the hotel, how he thought of the name and the design.. basically bragging. It all went in one ear and out the other.

"--isn't that right darling?"

huh?

Your senses came back to you and your eyes flickered up to him once before looking down. "Oh.. my bad I didn't catch that.."

Alastor stopped in his tracks which immediately caused you to stop in yours. There was a pause..

"Why, my dear, since when have I ever had to repeat anything to you? You hardly ever daydreamed like this before!"

You let out a shaky exhale through your nose, "Yea.. sorry." you spoke in a subtle sarcastic way.

He shook his head, his tongue clicking into minor sounds of 'tsk tsk.' "Oh _____ darling there's no need to be so formal! I'm your father! Not a stranger."

You scoffed, "You seem to enjoy treating me like one."

His eyes narrowed down at you; you wanted to burst into a cold sweat just like that. 

"It's better that way, you have absolutely no clue about how animalistic these sinners can be!"

He let his arm uncurl around yours to stand in front of a hotel room door with one of the miscellaneous hotel numbers at the top, his hand covering over the door knob as a green glowing hue forced it to open with a single 'click', a key suddenly spawning and dropping right into the palm of his clawed hand.

Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust "Oh I, in fact, do have a clear idea.. "

Alastor didn't respond to your comment but simply took your hand and had your palm face upward, dropping the cold obsidian key on your skin.

"Your key to your new quarters! If there's any issues with it, do let us know how we can fix it for you."

Your fingers closed your hand around the item and held it tightly against your chest in a defensive stance.

"Uh huh.." you then skimmed past him to walk through the door, your free hand clenching onto the handle of your travel bag in stress.

"Although, I'm simply dying to know--" Alastor's haunting voice caused you to freeze, your head slowly tilted to look behind you with a chill down your spine. Alastor's eyes radiated red, red as sin. 

"Why exactly did you think it was a swell idea to drop aaaall the way down here?" His arm holding up his came pointing up and slowly down as he stretched out the word 'all', insinuating falling down from heaven.

"And somehow doing that while still staying pure as snow? Oh darling, I just must know!"

You huffed a sigh out your nose and rolled your eyes,

"You know, I really admire how hard you try to ask questions when you know I'm not gonna tell you anything."

"_______, even a blind and deaf man would know that voluntarily going down here is practically a suicide! And I know you, you must've thought of this real well hmm? Risking getting gutted like a fish?"

"What would you like to know.." you mumbled as you then proceeded to close the door on him, your back slowly turning towards him.

Until the door was harshly tugged back to stay open, looking over to see Alastor gripping the other end of the door knob.

He laughed, it intimidated and irritated you "My darling you seem to forget who I am. I'm no stranger, I didn't spend the entirety of my glory 20s and 30s to raise you alone just for you to attempt to disown me. Besides.. you still need me my dear. 

After all.. I was the one that held you when the thunder refused to subside, I built you a home.. a wonderful home that others would live in with pride!"

He grabbed your hand yet again to pull you out once more, twirled you suddenly and pointed at your current outfit, a bit dirty with faint spots of dirt on certain spots from first hitting that dumpster when you first got here. 

"Don't even have to mention the elephant in the room.. just simply look at you! Fragile as a flower, still a little sampling.. just a sprout." He next pointed at your wings, ears, and halo during the duration of his phrase. His tone slowly morphing into a familiar sing-song voice and melody you could have sworn was something from your childhood.

You scoffed "Okay that's nice and all but can I just g--"

"Father knows best! listen to your father, It's a scary world out there, " He teleported behind you in the opposite direction of where you were facing you, a hand on your shoulder as his shadow morphed into a more terrifying form for you to gasp and shriek at. 

"Father knows best, one way or another something will go wrong-- I swear!" You couldn't help but stumble a few steps back in shock and fear from seeing that shadow again, causing you to trip over your feet and end up getting thrown by gravity down to the floor in a sit-up position.

"Oh look! Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, please--" he walked up to you, bending down to grab your hand once more to pull you up harshly. His eyes glowing while closely meeting yours as his shadow laughed in the background menacingly "They'll eat you up alive!"

As he playfully shouted his words in that familiar sing-song melody that you couldn't exactly tap into at this moment, he yet continued to hold up your right hand up in the air and the other proceeded to hold your left.. he was now twirling you around across the hall diverting slightly far from your open hotel room as if you were both dancing in a mix of 30s and classic ballroom dancing. You tried to push him away but his grip was fierce and the sudden dancing confused you, making you unable to properly think about your next move.

"Father's right here, father will protect you, darling here's what I suggest!" He then finally stopped at the foot of your door, your vision getting a bit woozy from the intense spinning Alastor put you through. "Skip the drama, stay with papa--"

"Alastor for fucks sake!-" you finally exclaimed, rubbing your eyes and taking a moment to relax your eyes to recover from your previous state.

"I can handle myself! I know ways to protect my own skin and none of them involve you!" You panted as you stomped your way back in your given room, this time gripping the door handle with a grip you've never had before. 

"Now go do whatever it is you do, and leave me alone!" you slammed the door in his face and locked it as quickly as you could, eventually throwing your bag on your new and neat bed with a huff. 

You've never felt so much anger before since you were living and breathing-- these complicated emotions rising in you like a volcano that sat dormant for centuries until finally erupting and exploding fire and skin-melting magna. This all came out with you lashing out and now even wanting to tear up a bit since you always hated fighting-- with him, with anyone. It hurt. More than it should have. 

You simply crawled on your bed and held yourself, knees up to your chest and arms around your knees. Comforting yourself in the only way you knew how.

God, you hoped this trip in the end turned out to be worth it.

Alastor on the other hand simply smirked, your stubbornness will be no match to his own and he will be sure of that.

"Goodness. Even after all these years, the temper tantrums will never cease." He let out a small pitched 'hm' as he turned on his heel to head back to the Princess of Hell and help her with her next few plans with the battle against the exorcists. 

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes noticed and witnessed the father and daughter's interaction in the hall.

Back to you,

Curled up in your hotel room you then decided to crawl over to your traveling bag, scrambling over to open it and hastily take out a few things like a smaller bag full of toiletries, clothes, and even your personal first aid box for emergencies. 

All would be put aside only for your hand to be looking for one thing in particular, hidden under all your neatly packed items was a journal you brought from back up in heaven to document events to keep your thoughts in place, help you cope with changes, and just as a way to express your emotions in a healthy way and you knew you would need these more during these next few weeks. 

Opening the hard cover your eyes were met with a small paper pocket that you taped up in order to save photographs and small thin memory trinkets. 

You smiled softly, your other hand then went to look at the side of your bag to take yet another photograph, it was the one you put in right before leaving your home to get to hell. 

Placing that photo on the cover of your bed, then taking out your photos that were inside that small pocket of your book you then spread them out all beside each other on your bed.

Six exact photos you had, each correlating to a specific memory you adored dearly.

First five photos were favorite memories of yours, some were of when you were hanging out with Sera, St. Peter, and other court member friends of yours. Either at picnics, libraries, shops, restaurants, etc. 

The last two were more than important to you though, they were two portrait pictures of her and you.

She was a much older woman, she died around the time you were born but never have you felt like someone was more like family in heaven than she did. Unfortunately you never had the chance to meet her until you were in heaven but at the same time after making an intense realization when getting to know her better it's as if you knew her your entire life. 

She was one of your favorite people, but one of your most painful reminders.

Your hand grazed over those two photos, your hand trying so hard not to clench them due to how many fucking things are setting in place, connecting to each other.

"I'll be back, I promise." you spoke to the images of her sitting beside her with her kind smile, you could see him through her smile as well "I'm sorry I never got to tell you what he did, who he really is.. you don't deserve the pain that comes with it if I did.."

You teared up, decades of guilt overwhelming you in this single moment. "I'm sorry grandmother, that he turned out this way.. that he did this to me."

You had no reason to apologize, no reason at all.

But she was so good to you, she recognized your last name but you couldn’t bear to ever tell her the truth and that guilt haunted you yet you reassured yourself it’s better to keep her from knowing who he really is with how highly she speaks of him. 

She treated you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She gave you a home as well up in heaven, took care of you.. guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.

How can someone like him, with a mother like her, turn out the way he did.

How.. sad, that truly is.

—---------------------------------------

You were sixteen years of age when this specific event occurred.

You have always been a good kid, always done as you've been told such as '____ dear don't forget to wash your dishes today', '_____ don't forget about your school work.', 'get in bed now young lady, you still have a bedtime you know', and '______ dear you're a bit too young to read the news don't you think? read this instead, more appropriate for young girls your age!'

You have always done what your father told you, followed every rule he sets, avoided every thing he didn't want you to do. 

Although.. whenever you did something you weren't supposed to was where you slightly feared him. He never yelled, never was one to do so. He was always a gentleman and as kind as he could be, although most of it for show. 

One thing he always was, is being passive aggressive. 

Passive aggressiveness was one of his many strong suits, and using words to get you to fear and to avoid doing what you were not meant to do was his specialty. You always wanted to please your father, for you knew that your entire life was the way it was because he chose to be responsible for you. This didn't happen much though because you just always followed what he ordered.

But sometimes being too obedient can be tiring and you were starting to get a little brave recently.

You see, your father has never allowed you in his home office for as long as you could remember, for all you knew he only took you inside when you were a baby with no total awareness. 

Why were you never allowed in his study?

You were.. actually never sure yourself, at least not until the days leading up to your death.

You were always told it was because it was his private space where he wants to keep everything neat and tidy, and that he wants his work space where he saves and writes anything for his radio show in there and that anyone on the outside would simply ruin the ambiance inside that helps him work.. or whatever.

Although, the older you got and the more conscious you gained you eventually thought that this rule is kind of.. stupid? It's just a study but.. you just guessed that whatever your father said was true.

On this particular day though, you wanted to give him a surprise! Only issue was that it included the study..

It was the day before Alastor's birthday, and you just wanted to check his schedule without being too obvious at all to make sure you had time to slip his gift either in his bedroom or sent to his radio studio.. so you decided to quickly slip into his study and check it really fast and leave!..

You spent the entire month before to find someone and commission for them to make a portrait painting with you, Alastor, and his mother in a single frame. Even giving photos of your father and your grandmother for them to reference, due to the lack of colors at the time with photographs it was more of a monochrome painting at best. This would be your birthday gift to him.

You waited for him to leave for work for his evening broadcast and you just came from school, pretending to be reading a book you were assigned to while laying on your bed and relaxing.

Alastor knocked at your door, letting out a quick 'come in!' In reply, he opened it for only his face to pop out of your door with his iconic smile.

"Hello darling! Just wanted to let you know I'll be off to do my next broadcast! Don't forget to tune in soon if you don't have any school work to do."

"Yes father, see you soon!"

"See you soon sweetheart! if I'm late for dinner there's always some leftovers."

He waved at you before closing your door and leaving a bit hastily despite being very early. You stayed as silent as possible till you heard his footsteps distancing away and finally.. that distant loud click of the front door.

You got moving, dropping the book on the bed without a care while scrambling up and opening the door to your room, your feet pitter pattering across the hall and down in front of the study, your hand reaching towards the doorknob in excitement. 

Until you stopped.

'What if he finds out? do you think he'll notice the slightest change at all?.. would he yell or get mad?.. ground me?.. he's never grounded me much but..' your hand inched closer to the knob, the moment your fingertips touched the wooden texture that's when you knew you weren't going to turn back.

'well.. it's a huge surprise for him.. it's just checking his work schedule without him knowing so he won't have a clue I have a surprise for him, it'll be easy!..' 

And finally your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and finally opened the entrance to the study with sudden anticipation while the creek coming from the door only caused goosebumps up your arms.

The room itself was dark and smelled of old wood from the floorboards and dusty papers, speaking of the floors they creeped like crazy with each hesitant step you took inside while your eyes scanned the entire foreign environment. 

Your eyes managed to make out in the middle of the room a large cushioned chair positioned in front of an even larger wooden desk that was wide enough as a school principal's desk would be. Approaching it you now got to see more clearer details like several papers and folders being sprawled around the space, two half empty cups of his usual coffee, pens in pen holders and laid with the papers,.

Your eyes looked up to see the wooden walls organized with draped over portraits of Alastor himself as a kid, others of paintings of his mother that you haven't seen besides the one in the living room and the photos he showed you, and.. one of you as a toddler.. your eyes couldn't help but linger at that particular portrait of you that you have never seen.

You looked down at the desk again to look for his work schedule since all you knew was that it was in some leather journal you saw him carry before.

But you were yet again met with a framed photo standing on his desk and it was one of you as a baby! You've seen baby photos of yourself but never one of where you literally were still sleeping in the crib.. you couldn't help but smile. 

But you went back to work, opening the squeaky drawers filled with hardcover books, folders with dates and names of several shows he's done before. 

Looking at one of the drawers nearest to the ground on the right hand side was where you found even more photos of you as a baby! And even others of himself growing up and some of his mother, your heart warmed at the thought of your father always keeping his family in mind. 

And how amazing was it that the leather journal you were looking for to finally show up! 

Taking it out with great anticipation you skimmed through the pages of his endless paragraphs and paragraphs of letters and numbers.. suddenly stopping at a particular page where there were.. stains.. they looked almost black in the dark but by squinting your eyes you can barely tell a dark hue of red.. you stood up to see if there was a small lamp on the desk that you missed but right as yo--

"What are you doing here."

Alastor's voice boomed across the room startling you to the point where the journal closed and almost jumped out of your arms as you gasped.

Your eyes darted at the door which didn't seem to hear the creek open the way it did when you came in, covered in darkness was Alastor of course.. his eyes and smile seemingly piercing through the darkness as his figure was illuminated from the light in the halls.

"Father!-- I.. I'm.. I just wanted to--" He interrupted you not by speaking, but by walking in and the creeks from the wooden floors seemed more threatening than when you first heard them. The closer he got the more your shoulders raised up.. "Look I'm sorry I just wanted to see your work schedule, that's all!.."

"Darling." god even the way he pulled on the chain attached to the lamp made it scary as well.. "You have never disobeyed me before, how can I work comfortably now?"

"I'm.. I'm sorry.." 

Alastor's aura seemed to at least lighten up with the lamp now.. god.

"Guess I always knew this day was coming.." he shook his head in disappointment, "knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest."

"But I--"

"Soon, but not yet. Trust me, pet."

"But father! I just wanted to look at your work schedule.."

"And you could've asked, not sneaked in like some thief.. I never raised you that way." Despite how the situation is though.. he had his eerie permanent smile on his face which only confused you more.

"You see my dear, by disobeying me even in the simplest of things only calls for danger. Unnecessary trouble to lure and latch onto you. Trouble in which even I won't protect you from."

Why was he talking like this?.. you were unsure.. but you knew that he was leading on to make some kind of point.. but in a sing-song type of approach. 

It wasn't uncommon for him to sing lessons to you at this age or whatever age you and him were, it's a common thing to you that his theatrics were an everyday thing.. it's how you learned how to sing yourself.

He continued, "Gullible, naive, positively grubby, ditzy, and a bit.. well.. hmm.. vague!"

You shook your head in confusion, him taking himself beside you to then shine you the most.. warming smile yet. The mixed signals were insane.

Seeing your confusion he only intensified it more "oh but darling I'm just saying cause' I love you, father understands, father's here to help you, all I have is one request!..” he spun around you as he ended up facing you and holding your hands in his, finally pulling you in a warm hug. oh wow.. he was never one to say ‘I love you’ much.. This total change was whiplash at its finest. 

You melted in the hug quite easily as you were always an affectionate child, plus you wanted to get rid of the guilt by just.. hoping he would forget what you tried to do. 

“_____?”

“Yes?..” 

The energy changed.

“Don’t ever come back into my study, again.”

“I..” you were speechless.. you were starting to question his authority slightly more than ever but.. “Yes father..”

“Oh I love you very much dear..”

You smiled slightly despite the stern scold he gave just now, but he was also never one to hug much so this made you feel nice.. 

“I love you more..” you could almost feel Alastor slowly grab onto the journal you were holding and tucked it in his coat which he usually wore out to work. 

“I love you most.” Backing away from the embrace with his hands on your shoulders he also gave you an uncharacteristically yet fatherly peck on your forehead and hairline which was only saved for when he’s tucking you in at night and he’s having a good day. 

Leaving behind a small ‘peck’ sound. It was almost kinda awkward the way he stood, it was as if he was trying to make it convincing with how fast it was too. 

“Don’t forget it!” He smiled at you brightly as he raised up a finger to only move it side to side.

“You’ll regret it.. Father! Knows best..” he gave you simply two pats on the head with his palm and his book in his jacket due to how swiftly he took it from your hands. 

Leading you out the door with a swift motion of him pulling you by your wrist and into the hall once more.. this time making a mental note as he closed the door behind him to get a proper lock for his study next time.

He then immediately started scrambling out the door, “Oh well look at the time! Almost late for work! I’ll see you in a while, my flower! Remember, I trust you! Don’t break it again! Would be a shame if that were your gift for my birthday!..” Cheerfully announcing across the house as he finally reached the door to pop out in the wide world again.

Why did he come back? You could only assume he forgot the journal you were holding before..

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek with your eyes wanting to water. “I just wanted to give you your gift perfectly..”

Arms crossed, you went back into your room and sat at the foot of your bed. Somberly regretting your terrible decisions..

‘Can't believe you broke his trust like that!.. and a day before his birthday??.. you must be out of your mind _____.’ Eyebrows turn down with a sad little frown on your face.

‘Although..’ your thoughts led you to look out the doorway of your room and into the dark hall. 

‘Is there anything else he’s trying to hide?..’

(HEYYYY thank you for reading chapter 6!! This was a total blast to write ✨ had so much fun trying to add a bit more detail into Alastor since he is still a serial killer, and he does this all out of love but it can definitely come out more.. manipulative. Whether he does it on purpose or not kinda depends on how you want to see it but personally he does it on purpose because he knows it’ll keep his daughter at bay qwq -and yes! I used tangled songs because personally I felt like it really emulated this side of him so ya!! He loves her to death but isn’t afraid at all to pull strings.)

[ham1lton]

another day, another drama.

pairing: lando norris x fellow driver’s sister!reader.

summary: the one where you think o/s is hiding something from you, so with the help of your boyfriend and his friends, you try to figure it out. too bad you find more than you bargained for.

author’s note: part of the nepo sister universe. i fear we might be coming to the end of the nsu soon…. also there is a poll at the end, help a struggling writer out and vote pls mwah.

— part one | part two (coming soon).

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liked by oldersistersbff, yourbff and 287,737 others.

yourusername: just saw these pics of my bf and burst into tears. fuck f1 for taking my bf and my sister away from me….

oscarpiastri: ur welcome ☺️

-> yourusername: SICK SICK MAN!!!! 😒😒

user1: not u acting like a war widow 😭

-> yourusername: my husband (boyfriend) has been taken as a prisoner of war (forced to do his job) thousands of miles away (no this part is actually real).

user9: i’m new to this. are they lovers?

-> user8: worse.

*liked by oscarpiastri.*

formula1: we apologise yourusername! but you’ll see him soon we promise! :)

-> yourusername: RETURN MY BF IMMEDIATELY….

-> user5: girl what about your sister??

-> yourusername: she’ll be fine 😘

user6: girl um did u see ur sister’s newest interview???

-> yourusername: no??!! BRB!

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liked by zendaya, simonebiles and 3,288,728 others.

vogue: the paddock’s princess came to talk to us about being our newest cover girl, winning her most recent championship, going viral, her love life and what her favourite smoothie combination is.

user3: shes so cute 🥺🥺

user1: o/s has been notoriously single since her breakup with paul like five years ago… why is she giggling and smiling when asked about a man???

-> user2: no i noticed that… omg is she seeing someone?

user7: face card never declines!

user4: when gav told her that she’d won and the first thing she did when she left the car was hug him and cry??? she’s so cute. i’m so glad i live in the y/n domination era.

-> user5: the edits with that video are sick… o/s is keeping the tiktok editors in business.

-> user9: have you seen the ones about her and lando to the song lacy??? INSANE…

-> user5: DM ME RN

user31: her saying she doesn’t ever want to be defined by her wins and rather by who she is a person. we love a charitable queen!

yourusername: love life… hmmm….

-> user4: oh no….. she’s plotting 😭

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liked by oldersistersbff, user72 and 2,833,617 others.

oldersister: family reunion.

yourusername: no credits for the pics??

-> oldersister: no. you take enough credit from my card.

-> yourusername: … fair.

user1: she’s deadass married wth.

-> user6: family reunion out of nowhere? talking about her love life suddenly after years of not even having one? photographed with two separate men?? shopping with o/s/bff in a bridal boutique and cordoning off the area?? it’s adding up sis ur not even delusional for this one….

user9: WHO’S UR MAN @/oldersister

user5: stop with the married jokes y’all…. i can’t lose my queen to some MAN….

user3: are you planning on changing ur surname from l/n.

-> oldersister: never.

-> user16: oh so you do see these comments…

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SPYING TRANSCRIPT - THURSDAY, 6PM.

- written by LANDO NORRIS, for his boss Y/N L/N.

LANDO NORRIS - i think she’s dating carlos. i’m putting my cards out there.

OSCAR PIASTRI - put your cards back. no way that’d happen. i think she’s dating someone else. look at these photos. that guy isn’t carlos.

DANIEL RICCARDO - just tell y/n she’s dating me and we can all go to sleep. i mean look at my incredible good looks, it would be sacrilegious to not want me.

PIASTRI - if she was gonna go for the hottest driver on the grid she’d go for lewis or charles.

CHARLES LECLERC - oh thank you oscar! very nice.

NORRIS - you’re moving away from the point. wait… is someone knocking on the door?

(everyone looks at each other concerned)

RICCIARDO - oh i ordered pizza. i forgot. my bad!

LECLERC - how about her dating another athlete? someone who understands this life but won’t affect her position here.

NORRIS - smart… what athlete has she been seen with recently?

PIASTRI - according to social media, simone biles?

NORRIS - isn’t she married? nah, who else.

RICCIARDO - she was telling me the other day that she went to the psg game. i asked her why and she said she had a friend who played for them.

LECLERC - kylian mbappé? that makes a lot of sense actually….

NORRIS - do you feel a kin to him? i mean, you’re both frenchmen after all.

(OSCAR PIASTRI would like the transcript to include the following: — after this, charles hit lando. i laughed.)

PIASTRI - it could be that this is all a big misunderstanding. she could have been shopping for a bridesmaid dress. why would she get married and not tell her sister who she’s incredibly close to? that makes no sense to me.

RICCIARDO - anyways….

NORRIS - what about leonardo dicaprio!

LECLERC - she is under 25….

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taglist: @23victoria @luckyladycreator2 @mxdi0 @booksandflowrs @charlesleclercsonlywife @casperlikej @nichmeddar @decafmickey @evie-119 @ironmaiden1313 @d3kstar @blupblupfish @demvnsriot @raevyng @namgification (don’t see yourself or wanna be removed? send an ask!)

— don’t wanna miss an update? join my taglist!

[finelinevogue]

Hi ellie! happy first day of the Christmas month!! I hope you are all cozy and comfy at home!

The other day I saw a super cute video from this tiktok couple cam.and.mal, where he puts up mistletoe everywhere in the house (like every door way, fan, light etc.) so they will always be kissing, thought that's super cute :))

loooove your writing by the way!! Your masterlist has always been my little comfort corner, sending love and hugs!!

christmassy kisses

hi!!! omg happy 1st day of christmas and thank you so much for the request <333 this is such an adorable idea and i am on it right now <333 p.s. you’re amazing xo

word count : -600

pairing : youtuber!reader x harry

As soon as you walked through the front door you were stopped.

You noticed Harry first, of course, in his hoodie and joggers. Behind him was your editor, Pippa, holding up her phone to film you two.

“What’s going on?” You asked suspiciously.

“Look up, babe.” Harry said.

You tilted your head up, expecting some slime or paint to fall, but instead there was some fake mistletoe.

“Mistletoe?” You asked, opening the door wider.

Harry didn’t let you in very far though, making sure you waited in the doorway.

“Guess we’ll have to kiss then.” Harry shrugged his shoulders and cupped your cheeks, bringing you towards him for a proper kiss. Not too intense, seeing as Pippa was here and she’s probably filming content for you.

“Interesting welcome home.” You laughed, smiling at Harry who looked very pleased with himself.

“It’s only because it’s Christmas, and I love you.”

You shut the front door behind you as you walked in, taking note of how Harry and Pippa are still standing around and looking suspicious.

“Seriously, what are you two up to?”

You took off your coat and hung it up on the coat hanger, before walking to the bedroom to change into a comfier hoodie - preferably one of Harry’s.

When you approached your bedroom door, you noticed the mistletoe hanging above it too.

“What the —”

“Don’t worry, i’ll kiss you again.” Harry smiled and leant down to kiss you again. He looked super chuffed with himself, like his plan was succeeding or something.

“H, bub, have you hung up mistletoe everywhere just so you have the excuse of kissing me?” You asked, standing close to him with Pippa still filming.

“Maybe.”

Instead of responding, you ran to find the next one. You stood under the en-suite bathroom door and patiently waited for Harry to come over.

He laughed once he caught on to how eager you were, becoming more eager himself. He gladly wandered over to you and gave you a loving kiss, filled with giggles.

“Best idea ever.” You praised him.

“Why?”

“We get to kiss more than ever!”

“We already do, baby.” Harry laughed, hugging you against his body tight to embrace all your sunshine energy.

“But this time they’re Christmassy kisses.” You argued.

“You’re right, m’love. I’ll give you all the Christmassy kisses you could ever want.”

“Deal.” You said, running off to find the next piece of mistletoe.

[mtchacffinz]

to be loved for you

prompt!!! Dan Heng never dealt with jealousy. He learns bitterly that sometimes, he can't deal with it rationally!

content!!! SFW, gn! reader, fluff, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, first kiss, clingy! Dan Heng

note!!! I love him too much. So far, all he's been getting from me is fluff 💔 frankly, i cant muster any freaky-freaky stuff with this man 🤔 got anything? my asks are open 🩷

To be someone who relied on relations by circumstance, you would always cherish each and every one of those who cross your path. May they be old and wise, or young and restless— Greeting them with the brightest smile, they'd always find themselves enamoured by your energy. Maybe this is why you attract so many people? Dan Heng was aware of that. He never spoke up about it, though. After all, he was one of the many who was caught bulls eye with each strum of his heart.

He knew you were capable of fending off threats yourself. He knew you were somebody who could defend someone from harms way.. and he especially knew just how gentle and kind you treat everybody.

Oh, what is he doing? Sulking all by himself in the archives. Dan Heng's thoughts ran rampant the past minutes. This happens when he's alone or sitting idly by. The poor man's thoughts catch up to him leaving him disgruntled. The thing is, you could always see it in his face.

You've been out and about for a while. He misses you, you know. Not that he would admit! Dan Heng's stubborn, just like that. He's definitely not mulling over how you're attention has been elsewhere, either. He doesn't mind. You have the freedom to do what you want! Just leave him sulking here in the archives unattended, it's okay.

The teal eyed prince clicks his tongue. That chatty, flirty, touchy writer. At first, Dan Heng thought that he was quite a man. The writer guy was nice and respectful with a golden gaze for things that were held high. That said, the Author quickly took interest in you.

He was never one to be possessive. Why should he? You're not even in a relationship. But sometimes, as soon as the guys hands find their way towards yours, intertwining in a clasp, something in him dims. Suddenly, his eyes can't leave your figure. It was your smile again, and Dan Heng's not at the receiving end of it.

You're not on the express today, either. A shame. Seriously, that guys been hogging you all week! What's up with that? Don't even get him started on "(Y/n), my muse. Accompany me today?" bullcrap! It's nothing but a sappy excuse to get into your pants so bad! Seriously, the absurdity. Dan Heng shakes off the thoughts before they continue. Did you know? Just by his gaze alone, someone could freeze in their place— like daggers against their back.

"Hmm? Mr. Ferr, are you okay?"

"It's nothing, my sweet, I strangely caught a shiver in my spine.." the author, Ferr, replied calmly.

"Okay. So about your first draft.."

Draft this, draft that, can't he got an editor instead?!

Irk marks basically float up his head just thinking about what they're talking about right now. Can you blame him? He's been neglected.

Dan Heng slaps himself, hard.

Woah. He's getting way ahead of himself. Him? Neglected? In what way? Again, it's not like you're both in a relationship. It's not like he's entitled to your affection in any way. Dan Heng really needs to calm down. Lately, all he's been doing is updating the archives. He's also learned of what you will be traveling for next, and added data with a note addressed to you as well. His calloused hands were flipping through various pages all day, pulling apart scrolls and wiping away holograms.

His thoughts become strangely quiet. His presence was like frost.. constant. A little chilly. He starts to fiddle with his fingers, his gloves, and his nails.

He really misses you a lot.

Can you come back soon?

Dan Heng sighs. He stands up with his impeccable posture as usual. Those arms held scrolls and books, and puts them back where he got them from. At this point, he's zoned out. He exits the Archives, strolling near the parlor car. Light footsteps echo throughout the space with Dan Heng taking in the air of tranquility within the express; It seemed like everyone had their own agenda today.

Well, except for one.

"Dan Heng," Himeko's sweet, gentle voice called out for him. The boy turned towards her, a little surprised. She smiles, and beckons him to sit with her. Her silky locks framing perfectly on her face, she put a stray strand behind her ear. "Come, I have coffee to share."

Dan Heng was indeed in dire need of indulgence. Without hesitation, he walked over to the red head and sat down. He forgot how comfortable the sofa was.. his nerves began to relax. Himeko starts to pour the hot beverages into elegant coffee cups, befitting if her style. It was comfortable silence, the stars glistened into glass windows— reflecting the beauty of life. Himeko seems to have noticed his aloof vibe, joining him to stare at the stars. Opening her lips, Himeko starts.

"You've been busy for a while."

"Being an archivist is a lot of work, huh?"

"I have."

"It's fine." The gentle lady can't help but chuckle. He's so dry. This only confirms her hypothesis. That daunting look on his figure may intimidate some, but not Miss Himeko. Never Miss Himeko. She doesn't want to expose her hidden agenda now, but she just can't wait to run her mouth. After all, Dan Heng's been down the weather and it's very obvious as to why.

"(Y/n) wanted me to prepare these for you. Enjoy them." She takes a sip. His expression softened. Dan Heng can't help but think bitterly. It'd be lovely if they were her to prepare these herself, but the teal eyed prince quickly take back the thought.

"I'm thankful.. but why? Is there an occasion? I don't seem to recall any." He speaks in a cautious manner. The woman only sighs, a palm on her cheek.

"Be honest with me, Dan Heng." Her tone quickly changed. Now her eyes are staring into his. Like it was rummaging through his soul. Dan Heng's feet were cold. He couldn't contest her gaze, so he averts his eyes. Himeko frowns at this, but she doesn't seem to mind.

"Your eyes betray you greatly."

He was a little taken aback. His eyes? He was never expressive. He was sure he'd been called at least poker faced and stoic before.. Dan Heng's brows narrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

Himeko only chuckles, dismissing her last claim. "I'll tell you what. They'll be here soon.. and they're going to leave just as quickly." She adds the last statement with dramatic disdain before the elegant lady takes a sip once again. Dan Heng's stomach drop. Ah.. he's lost the appetite to even finish his mug. Himeko continues. "Ferr is taking them to a space station for one of his projects. Given the current circumstances, they have no reason to refuse."

His face scrunched in annoyance upon hearing the name again. Mr. Ferr this, Mr. Ferr that! He's getting sick of him. Taking (Y/n) on a space ship? How long will that take? Is it some sort of rendevous? A date?

..will you come back?

"i don't think that decision befalls to us. (Y/n) is capable of making decisions.."

"I don't want them to go."

"..on their own because— wait, what?"

Himeko chuckles dryly. "I don't want (Y/n) to go, you know? It's selfish thought, I know. But, it's good to be selfish once and a while now, right?"

That was a half baked lie. First of all, Himeko fully supports what (Y/n) wants. But Ferr.. isn't exactly known for his patience. Himeko knows full well as soon as (Y/n) steps in the spaceship— he'd pull something like a proposal! A profession, a deal! She's not stupid, Himeko is far from dense. The Scientist knows that the Author has a huge thing for you, and it shows. And knowing Dan Heng? He'd just nod along albeit against it. She can't just stand here and let them distance each other! Himeko's seen it.. that prying gaze of a distraught, pining lover.. the watchful eyes of a lovestruck persona. The only way to get a stubborn man to act, is through tremendous pressure!

Dan Heng's lips pursed.

"And you want me to.."

"You don't have to, really."

"But.. if it will benefit them, should we encourage it? After all, they're energetic and knows their way with words. There must be some sort of good reasoning behind his invitation."

"I don't know. Do you want them to go?"

"I.." Dan Heng couldn't finish his sentence. He couldn't form a response at all. Does he want you to go? If you would enjoy yourself, he'd love to allow it.. If you'd return with a smile on your face, tell him all about what happened, he'd love to receive you with utmost sincere..

Even if it took atleast a hundred years for you to return to him.

...Hundred years his ass! You will not spend a hundred years with that man!

"If (Y/n) wants to, I personally don't see why not." Dan Heng's thoughts actively contrasted his responses. A stubborn man.. Himeko sighs, an apologetic smile on her lips. Finally backing away, the lovely lady puts down her mug and sits straight.

"It's okay to be honest. After all, they.. wish for something."

Dan Heng replies quickly in a heart beat. "I will be honest, then. I want their wish fulfilled."

"Then you better greet them in tip-top shape." Himeko winks saying this, standing up to excuse herself. Dan Heng tilts his head in this, not quite sure if what the she's implying. Himeko only had that knowing smirk on her pristine face. The lady excuses herself promptly, leaving Dan Heng all by himself. The man is once again left alone with his thoughts, except this time, he has new material to work with.

"Great..." He huffs bitterly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just.. splendid." God, his head hurts. He's tired and he's drowsy. At this point, he doesn't find anything of urgency at the moment— only thinking about grasping that sudden warmth the sofa beneath him exerts. Dan Heng would like to find peace of mind at least once in a while. Both that in mind, his eyes find their way to the Parlor ceiling, half lidded and tired.

Slowly, his breathing calms down.. and slowly, his eyes drift closed, consciousness slipping away from his grasp.

Slowly.. the darkness embraced him, and his body rested in slumber.

You stand a little surprised.

After all, Dan Heng was casually sitting upright— his eyes closed. Is he napping? Is he okay? You're not sure, and you're concerned. Frankly, you were supposed to be here for him— feeling that he deserves at least an apology that you haven't been getting back to his messages in a while. But looking at the sight.. he looks like he's accompanied at the moment.

Such a hard working guard. The guard of the express, the unmatched Archivist of the Nameless.. the one who would always hold your heart gently. You swore if he blew air on your figure, you'd crumble immediately. The only one who'd sway your heart. That's how much power he holds, his whole fingers wrapped around your being with an invisible string keeping you binded to him.

You curb a grin. Strolling near your quarters, you pick up something warm. A blanket. You envelop his stature in a comfortable tuck, pausing for a moment to take in the melancholic state Dan Heng's exhibiting. The handsome prince's eyes fluttered closed, lips slightly apart. If he's sitting upright sleeping, then he must be atleast tired enough to sleep but still be on his feet.

But he doesn't know that, he doesn't need to.

"Ah.." was all Dan Heng could muster. You look back at him in a awe, but quickly recovered. You didn't remove his hands on your wrist, you held onto them instead. The archivists eyes softened, his brows relaxing. You attempt to give him a smile, defusing the tension.

Your sightseeing was cut short when Dan Heng started to stir, his eyes fluttering open. It was for a short moment, the first those greyish teal eyes found their way towards yours.. and the way they slightly widened upon meeting gazes with you, Dan Heng's slender, warm fingers slowly snuck their way toward your wrist; apprehending their movements further. Dan Heng held onto you like you were unreal, like you were unbelievable. Oh, he looks stricken. He looks.. almost as surprised as you. Dan Heng doesn't say anything yet, the blanket that was once on him fell off just a little while ago.

"Hey. Sorry. It looks like I woke you up.." You offer an apologetic smile. He quickly shakes his head at this, responding to you in haste.

"No.. no. Don't apologize."

"I have a lot of apologizing to do."

"No, you.." before he could finish, he cuts himself off. Why must he be so accepting? He keeps brushing his feelings aside, and before he knows it, he utters something he doesn't even mean. No, he's not okay. No, it's not fine. You upset him greatly. He couldn't focus on anything because you weren't answering his messages. Your phone was unreachable.

You had Dan Heng worried sick. What if something happened to you? You reckless, Trusting, thick skulled—

"Everything good?"

Your voice immediately snaps him out of his thoughts. Dan Heng let's out a small breath, his hands still clutching yours. He was still sitting down, and you were towering over him. God.. just by your gaze alone, he's already so full. If you could just stay with him a little longer, he feels like this churning in his stomach would go away soon. He wants you so bad, he needs you so bad.. he doesn't want you to let go anytime soon.

To your surprise, Dan Heng himself removed his hold on you. His movements were slow and languid, like a flow of water within the rivers. Moving in chorus, mellifluous.. elegantly. You can't take your eyes off him at all. Dan Heng clung to your waist. His warm body enveloped your lower half, nuzzling deep into your stomach. You let out a surprised yelp.

Suddenly, your face is hot. Your stomach was dancing with abundant butterflies, and you don't know where to put your hands. As if the archivist could read your mind, his hands led yours into his head, fingers entangling itself into those dark locks. They were so soft.. so warm and lovely. Your hands run through his hair gently— cherishing just how close he is to you at this moment. What's up with him? He seems to be a little more laid back.

Dan Heng shifts in his place. That's when he finally looks up at you. His arms around you, eyes looking directly at yours. You could see his expression.. eyes soft. Gentle. A slight pout— face flushed. It looks like he wants to say something, and it's still processing in that pretty head of his.

Dan Heng's hold on you tightens, you didn't fail to notice. He wants to be selfish for once. Let him be selfish for once. Just once. With a small breath and a soft tone, he finally utters.

"Don't go."

It was getting harder and harder to calm your heart down, and that didn't get any better.

Your heart immediately melts, and your knees almost gave out. What? Go where? Has the rumours already spread? Whatever it was, it's not happening. Especially if he asked you, it's already set in stone. "I won't. Not anywhere." You respond tenderly. Dan Heng's eyes lit up. You swore his fingers even twitched just a little bit. A little more after, his face suddenly scrunched. The archivists' frame was decorated with blazing hues of red. Whatever he's thinking seems to strain him so. Not even bothering to give you time to further analyze, he stands up from his seat, arms still around you. This time, you have no idea what'll he do. Dan Heng's eyes averted yours, hesitantly taking a step closer. My.. your palms are starting to sweat. This is the effect of anticipation.

When he pulled back from you, Dan Heng quickly analyzed your expression to see even a tinge of displeasure. Now you.. face decorated with the hue of peony, looked awe struck. Absolutely enchanted.. bewildered, blown. Gathering your nerves to work back up again, your eyes slowly trailed back to his nervous ones: awaiting your reaction.

"..You can hit me after this." Dan Heng suddenly says, making you tilt your head in confusion. So carefully, he cupped your cheeks. Whatever that was you were going to say was caught in your throat. There was a bubbling feeling in your chest, waiting to pop open; and as soon as his lips brushed past yours, it popped so beautifully vibrant it blinded your vision for but a moment. As your eyes fluttered closed and his eyes half lidded, he greedily drank the sight of you from his eyes.

Dan Heng's eyes widened once you grabbed his collar— smashing your lips back to his. The kiss you've given him burned with fervor, impatient, like you've been yearning for more. You were starved of his lips— like a lone hawk hunting for aeons.

Now that the opportunity presented itself, might as well make the most of it.

The archivist had a hard time keeping up with you, keeping the both of you straight by holding the small of your back. Your arms were in Dan Heng's chest— eagerly taking him in yours. By the time you both ran out of air, you were standing in amidst the parlor car— with the stars accompanying the moment being the sole witness. You could hear Dan Heng's heartbeat whilst you rest your head on his chest. Clutching his jacket, it was tempting to go for another one again.

There was silence. A lot of words hung out in the air. The first to cut through the already light air around you was you.

"For how long?"

Dan Heng breathed heavily, burying his nose into your hair. He thinks about it for a long time before finally answering.

"Quite a while."

i went a little overboard sorry! (⁠●⁠´⁠⌓⁠`⁠●⁠) edited it a lil bit

[gojoidyll]

Wriothesley x Reader

warnings: a stalker (not wrio), insecurities, fear, grammatical errors, etc.

small note: insinuated that both of them end up together at the end but not explicitly said.

(not gender specific btw!!)

Currently thinking of a scenario (or maybe a future fanfic someday) where you are an amazing author in Fontaine who feels like writing was the biggest mistake you could have ever made.

At first, writing was your passion, it was what led you to fame and the creation of a certain all-time hit detective series that people all across of teyvat like to read.

At first, writing was what made you happy. You could stay home all day without having to venture out of the safety and comforts of your home. Didn't have to worry about your next paycheck, if you'll have enough mora for tomorrow, or if you'll have enough to pay rent by next week. Sure you had deadlines, but since you loved to write and managed your time wisely - deadlines weren't ever an issue.

But slowly, as you rose to fame, admirers and fans were quick to swarm.

It got to the point that you would get mountains of letters a day (almost by the hour). And as a pushover as you were (your parents never really taught you how to stand up for yourself), you quickly found yourself writing to each fan back who sent you letters or gifts. Thanking them. Talking to them. Even becoming penpals too.

Then there was one man in particular who started to get too creepy. Too close for comfort.

His letters started to get disturbing. He would introduce himself with a fake name but tell you that he was a young man in his late twenties. How your books gave him life and meaning. How he would see you walking the streets and even got your schedule down when you would go to the grocery store or hangout with friends.

It was then when you would find that you had gained your own stalker. It was then that maybe getting the spotlight on you and through your writing was a bad idea.

If only I didn't share my real name. I wonder if things would be different...

Despite the mental stress the man was placing on you. You tried to push those thoughts away even though the fear of being watched at all moments throughout the day ate away at you. Your own home wasn't your safety net any longer, you feared.

You couldn't bring yourself to tell anyone, opting out for dealing with this yourself.

You tried to tell the man to stop. He didn't.

Warned him.

Yelled at him when you would spot him hiding.

Screamed when he broke into your home. Kicked and thrashed around.

It was then when your neighbors called for the garde. Immediately coming to the rescue due to all the noise you both were causing.

And soon a trial was held. The man was immediately found guilty for a numerous of things. Theft, stalking, attempted kidnapping, breaking and entering, etc.

And even when he was sent to the fortress of meropide, you found that you just couldn't write anymore even though your hit detective series was still ongoing. Your editors, in understanding, gave the series a hiatus and let you take a vacation.

But once again, you feared.

You feared that you just couldn't write anymore.

The one thing that you enjoyed doing ended up with some crazy fan wanting more of you. You didn't want to fear anymore.

And it would be two weeks later when you would be approached by Neuvillette and Clorinde. They would tell you about the happenings within the fortress and how your presence was needed in dealing with your ex-stalker.

Apparently he had gotten into some trouble, and he wouldn't talk no matter what unless he got to see you.

So you found yourself reluctantly going. It wasn't like you were going to stay home and do anything anyway...

At the fortress now, you found yourself in a big office. Apparently it belonged to the Duke, the warden of the fortress. You learned quickly by many of the people there that you should refer to him as "your grace."

And as you sat alone in the office in one of the chairs, a noise sounded just down below.

"They're here?! Where?! I must see them!"

That voice, you couldn't help but to tremble. You didn't want to be here. Not here. But Neuvillette and Clorinde helped alot with the case and proving the man guilty, so you felt obligated to stay and forced yourself not to run away.

"Y/n! There you are! I'm so glad to see you again!"

"That's enough. You see them now, right? So get talking."

You finally got to see the Duke of the fortress of meropide (with the chief justice and Clorinde on either side of him). The duke's eyes were an icy blue, sharp and calculated. His hair black and grey, and spiked - you couldn't help but to think of how ... wolfish he looked.

"Talk? Talk?! I didn't ask you to bring them here so I could talk!"

He reached for you. Hands outstretched as if to hurt you. To pull you towards himself. But Wriothesley was already a step ahead as he grabbed the front of the man's shirt and forced him to the ground, pinning him there.

"I guess no one taught you how to treat a lady."

And maybe, just maybe writing wasn't a mistake after all. Because maybe all this time as you would write happy endings for your characters .. maybe you were waiting for your own happy ending. A happy ending where someone saves you from someone and from yourself.

At least, thats what came to mind as when you finally managed to finish your detective series two months later with its final book.

"So, what genre are you looking to write for now? Because I think you got the mystery all covered."

Sitting in Wriothesley's office once more, lunch in hand, you smiled and thought for a moment.

"How about a romance?"

He snorted at the question, "romance, huh? And how do you plan on starting that?"

"If I told you, then it would ruin the whole book."

"I don't mind spoilers."

You grinned, eyes trained on his as you both enjoyed your lunch break together, "well, it starts off with a man saving an author from someone and from themselves."

"That so," he asked while smirking, he already knew where this was going.

"Do they end up together?"

You shrugged, "you tell me."

Wriothesley leaned back in his chair, eyes trained on you, and only you, "I noticed that in your books, your characters get happy endings. So why not write another one?"

"What? Not a fan of angst?"

"Absolutely not."

[fredwkong]

Alphaworld File 3: Diary of an Alpha Transformation (1 of ?)

Click here to read Alphaworld in posting order.

X

An undated journal. It is heavily bedazzled on the covers, though many of the gems appear to have been scraped off or stepped on. There are several stains yellowing the coloured paper of the cover, mostly sweat.

Inside the front cover, there is a space where the owner is encouraged to write their name. Two names occupy the space, one on top of the other. The lower layer is written with a purple marker, neatly spelling the name “Ronaldo Herrera.” There are multicoloured sparkles drawn around the name, and glitter has been sprinkled over it. Some of the glitter appears to have been scraped off with a knife, and there is a 3 centimetre tear at the top interior of the page, as if someone was about to rip it out. On top of the first name, the name “RONNIE H” is scrawled in crude capitals using a pencil. The pencil was applied with sufficient force that graphite scrapes are visible from where they were brushed off the page.

Journal entries flow into each other without dating, but editors have split entries based on context and labelled them “Day One, Day Two, Day Three…” despite the fact that more than one day clearly proceeds between some entries. From this point onward, journal entries are transliterated directly, with marginalia and other notes on the text rendered in square brackets [] to distinguish them from the main body.

[Day One]

OMG, I’m soooo happy to be back on campus! Staying with my parents is such a bore! They don’t let me stream any of my shows, they say drag race is of the devil, and the town is so small that I’m, like, the only twink there. I can’t even get any dl dick all holiday because country guys are all totally masc for masc. My hole is toooootally desperate.

I’m so happy that Ollie across the hall got me this journal! He made it look soooo cute with all the stones! He’s, like, okay for a fellow bottom, even tho his massive crush on me is, like, totally obvious. Sorry babe, this dick is for decoration only lmao! Maybe we could get tag teamed by a big dick boy sometime, that’d be pretty hot. I've never bottomed alongside a transmasc dude.

Anyway, I just stopped at the dorm to drop off my suitcase and get out of my het drag, there’s a whole lotta frat parties starting tonight and if I wanna end my dry spell I’ve gotta be there! I just had to live my Sex and the City fantasy by putting down a few lines in the diary first!

[a doodle of an open-faced journal with scribbly lines on the page in rainbow colours]

[Day Two]

ZOMGGGGGGG [written in double-tall bubble letters across a quarter of the page, filled in with pink highlighter]

This term is gonna be SO AWESOME.

Campus is suddenly full of massive muscle men who are totally desperate for me! I was, like, totally the target of a dominance contest at the party last night, and it was SO HOT.

So I walk in, right? And I’m dressed in my usual, my lil slutty crop and my littlest shorts. Here, I took a pic before I left so you can see how cute I was.

Anyway, I’m cute, I’m obvious, I’m ready to have any guy absolutely wreck me. Like, last night, I would have taken a bicurious frat bro fucking me raw, my hole was so neglected. So I am a blaring neon sign: I’M A FAG [written in rainbow marker colours]

And as soon as I walk in, this GOD [a doodle of a massive man is in the margin, a perfect X shape covered in cartoonishly bulging muscles] comes up to me and is all, “Hey boy, I’m Nate.” He. Is. PERFECT. Gorgeous grey eyes, windswept dirty blond hair, a tank top hugging pecs the size of my HEAD. And his voice gets me tooootally weak in the knees. I can't believe he's LOOKING at lil ol me, even if I do look like a twinky slut.

But before I can even say anything to Nate, there’s another MASSIVE arm draped over my shoulder, and ANOTHER massive guy is whispering in my ear, like, “Name’s Lee. Want a drink?” I look over, and he’s just as hot as Nate, with shiny black hair and this perfect sexy smile like a J-pop star. But, like, if a J-pop star was 250 pounds of pure muscle and sex.

I swear all the air went out of the room. Suddenly, Nate and Lee were glaring at each other over me, and all these frat bros were staring.

BTW, when did all the frat bros get so cuuuute? Like, not as sexy as Nate and Lee, but they’re all totally cut this term and I think they’ve got some skincare going? Like I wanna go back sometime lmao.

Lee, like, GROWLED as he glared across me. I felt a li-ter-al rumble from his chest. Nate started totally flexing his big pecs, I thought his shirt was gonna shred in the middle. They didn’t even SAY anything, it was so totally primal. I think I got a whiff of Lee as he tucked me closer to his chest, and I realised he totally doesn’t use deodorant. He smelled totally HAWT.

Anyway, I have two perfect men fighting over me, and I’m not letting either of them go, so I go, “Boys, I promise my holes are big enough to share.” I totes flashed my dimples at them. [doodle of a smiley face]

They kept glaring at each other, but finally Lee was like, “I get his hole.” Maybe he, like, won the contest or whatever? Because Nate looked down at the floor and said, “Fine.” And I mean, fine with me! I love getting stuffed from both ends! What a way to come back from vacay!

We didn’t stay at the party long, just long enough for Lee to get me a drink and Nate to carry me around the dance floor a bit. I checked on Lee while we were dancing, and he was, like, totally making out with one of the frat bros. Like, a guy I knew was straight. I blew him freshman year when his gf was away. I guess Lee’s just like that, lmao.

We ended up upstairs. I think Lee’s in the frat? But we weren’t in his room, which was kinda hot. Lee and Nate sandwiched me between them as soon as we were through the door. I was tooootally surrounded by massive muscle as Nate made out with me and Lee sucked on my neck. I felt, like, high, with Nate’s big cock grinding into my belly through his jeans while Lee felt up my cute ass.

“You guys kissing would be so hot,” I gasped as Nate pulled off my shirt and Lee took off my shorts.

They both hesitated, I could feel it. “Oh c’mon,” I moaned, “you’re both tooootally hot, and you haven’t touched at allllll.”

Suddenly, Lee picked me up and threw me on a random frat bro’s bed. “I guess your mouth IS gonna be busy,” he said, which was SOOO hot, and then he started slicking up my hole.

Pretty soon, both hunks were balls deep in me. They were SOOOOOO big [doodles of massive, soft cocks cover the margins of this page] and I took ALL of them. Lee filled me up SO good, rubbing my prostate like he was fingering me. And Nate tasted, like, perfect. And the whole time, Nate kept pulling back just far enough that I could watch him and Lee kissing over me.

FUCK, they made me look like a little doll between them! I think once they were in me, all the dominance stuff went away, because they were TOTALLY making out. Nate’s, like, SO noisy, and Lee kept on doing that growl thing like he’d done before, which made me moan around Nate’s cock, which made him even noisier.

I came handsfree right before Lee flooded my ass and Nate filled my mouth with cum.

By the time our clothes were back on, Lee and Nate were back to playing their weird dick measuring game, keeping me between them as we went back to the party. I think Nate left pretty soon, but I danced for a bit longer and made out with a few frat bros. They really ARE super cute now, and they all seemed totally into me. Guess they finally got over being raging fucking homophobes lmao.

Anyway, I got home and crashed as soon as I’d cleaned all the cum and sweat off. Now my hand’s all crampy from writing for so long lol. Oooh, I should go tell Ollie all about it!

[Day Three]

I was, like, SO right.

The last few days have been AWESOME!!!! [jagged star doodles all around the word] I swear there are soooo many hunks on campus all of a sudden! One of my profs this term is a tooootal musclestud.

So I’m taking this class on fashion history, and when I looked it up, this Prof. Romano guy was listed for it. He was cute, one of those cute tweed aesthetic guys. You know, a fag who studies fashion. Like, OMG, that picture must be SO OLD.

I show up for class all ready to sit in the back row, but then I see this MAN standing at the podium. Like, total Italian stallion, with the dark waves and the stubbly jaw. He was, like, BURSTING out of his blazer. I could watch his pec bounce through three layers of fabric.

So obv I run down and sit in the front row. I’m not the first fag to have the idea, there’s already like 3 other twinks down there, but I’m totally the cutest. As the rest of the class comes in and sits down, these two GORGEOUS boys walk in and go up to the prof. They’re totally shredded, and dressed in complementary button-ups. And the muscle-god prof pats each of them on the head! Then they go sit down in some chairs behind the podium, and I can see their boners in their cute slacks.

The prof clears his throat, and it’s this DEEP, RESONANT sound. I got a total eargasm just listening to the rumble. “Good morning, class,” he says. And then his next words are TOTALLY burned into my brain:

[written in shaky block letters across a whole page] “You will call me Alpha Mario.”

And then he says, “I am your professor, and I will see you all for extra credit,” while rubbing himself through his pants, like half the class isn’t ready to have his babies. My cock was ROCK FUCKING HARD in my jeans. [doodle of a leaking penis]

He introduces his TAs as Beta Max and Beta Owen. IDK, maybe it’s a kink thing? He’s clearly their dom or something, they were totally devoted to him all class. I’d happily be Alpha Mario’s Beta if he’s hiring, lmao! [hearts are doodled around “Alpha Mario”]

Anyway, that’s just one ep in the PORN SHOW that is my life these days! Ollie’s room has been, like, a revolving door of cock since we got back, and I usually take two or three loads a day out on campus. This group of straight computer science geeks actually begged to fuck me yesterday, so I was dripping all the way home.

They were surprisingly buff for nerds, too! I should point out to Ollie that we gotta hit the gym if we wanna keep up with all the boys on campus this term. Can you imagine? Us at the gym! [The rest of the page is covered in stickers of the laughing emoji]

[Day Four]

Went to the gym today! Not to workout, but I had this new outfit idea and I thought it might get me noticed if I just hung out in the locker room. OH BOY, was I right!

Last few days all my clothes have been feeling super tight, so I’ve been doing a lot of [scribbled in rainbow marker] SHOPPING. It’s too bad, all my old clothes were suuuuper cute, but I’ve started giving some of my old faves to repeat fuckbuddies. One of the guys who used to push me around for being faggy, this guy called Brendan, has been coming over for the last few nights. I never realised how cute he is before!

Anyway, the first night Brendan came over he throatfucked me, but last night he told me he really wanted to feel my fingers in his hole, so I started fingering him! It was soooo hot that my cock ended up totally hard and before I knew it HE was blowing ME while I rubbed his prostate. He’s been texting me all day, begging to service my cock again. Lol, he just sent a voice message all like, “Please, Ronaldo, I’ll do anything to make you cum again!”

My point is I gave him a pair of my old booty shorts. They fit him perfectly, even though he NEVER had an ass as nice as mine before. He’s been wearing them all day today, just like I told him. It’s so hot, knowing he’s showing off like a fag even though he used to be a straight homophobe.

Fuck, I was writing about MY clothes! I’ve been so distracted by hot beta boys the last few days. I thought it was kinda time to change up my style, plus I looked super hot trying on some more dude-type clothes, so here’s the pic of me I took while I was hanging out at the gym.

I had guys HANGING OFF OF ME after a few minutes. It was totally hot, they wanted to do anything I said. Before long, I had a bunch of hot guys kissing me all over and all the cocks I could want to suck. Guys kept running out to grab their hot friends to join us, and all these guys were focussed on me.

At one point one of the staff came in, and I could tell it was to tell us to stop. He was a cute guy, really filled out his work polo, you know how gyms always hire swole dudes and curvy gurls to work at the front desk. I just gave him this LOOK from the middle of my pile of dudes, and I could feel his straightness melt away as his cock started leaking in his preppy shorts.

But just as I was about to cum, my cap got ripped off my head and I was dragged out of the pile by Nate, the guy from that frat party. I swear, he got even BIGGER since last time, he held me up by my shoulders like I was a paperweight. He was totally growling at me, too. He said something like, “I hate when they’re half done,” whatever that means, and then he yelled at all the other boys to get back to work.

Once we were along in the locker room, Nate shook me like a doll. “All the ex-het Betas can treat my gym as neutral ground, but it’s MY territory to you and the other half-done Alphas, you got it?” [note: Alpha and Beta are capitalised in the original text, although Ronnie does not seem to have been aware of the Alpha Phenomenon]

I was like “What are you talking about?”

Nate said, “You’ll get it.” Then I started smelling this INCREDIBLE smell. It was like really sharp cedar cologne mixed with fresh sweat. There was something else too, and it made me feel totally out of it.

Next thing I knew, I was on my knees swallowing Nate’s cock again. “Yeah,” he was saying while he fucked my throat, “this’ll speed you up. You’ll probably never submit again after this, so I’m gonna enjoy it.”

I just stayed there, taking him all the way into my throat. I feel like a week ago it would’ve been totally hot, but today it felt different. Nate using me made me MAD [underlined several times]. I felt like I should do something about it, like punch him or steal one of his boys, but the smell coming off of him kept me docile.

Nate came really quietly, which made me madder. My throat is an incredible tool, okay? Any guy should be screaming when I blow him, especially a noisy top like Nate. Then he patted me on the head like I was a little boy and said, “Head home. Drop a load in that guy who lives across from you, he should be progressing well too.” Then he just. Walked away.

I was gonna stay here all night just to spite the asshole, but I’m super horny again and I don’t wanna go back out. Maybe I’ll go see if Ollie’s got any visitors tonight or if he wants me to fill his holes for him.

[Day Five]

[From this point, entries are written in a noticeably heavier hand. Lowercase Es and Os become jagged.] Fuck, last night was fucking awesome. I knocked on Ollie’s door, and he answered in nothing but a thong, showing his bottom growth right through the fabric. His legs have been getting so hairy and thick, he looked super slutty. Plus his room smelled like sex and cum. I’ve been sleeping out, but seems like Ollie’s been taking house calls.

“Ronaldo?” he said, blinking up at me in surprise. I think we used to be a matching pair of little twinks, but guess I’ve had a growth spurt.

I shoved through the door. What was he gonna do, stop me? I was like, “Where’s your lube?” It came out of my mouth so deep, in a crazy manly register. “I wanna finger you.”

Ollie fuckin’ moaned when I said that, and stumbled over to his night table to grab it. He keeps his lube right out in the open, proud of how much cock he takes. I was already dropping my jeans, my cock was getting super hard and I hate feeling it strain. It deserves to be seen anyway.

Once I grabbed Ollie’s lube, he stood against the wall and presented his ass for me. Fuck, just remembering the look of all that hair on his fat ass is making me leak again. Okay I jerked a bit, should be able to write. [there is a stain on the page here]

Ollie’s hole was still loose from his last dick appointment, so I pushed three fingers in nice and easy. Ollie was moaning, all, “When did your fingers get so thick,” and “What’s happening to us, Ronaldo?” so I roughed up his G-spot a bit until he wasn’t being so articulate anymore.

“What’s happening to us is we’re gonna rule this school,” I hissed at him. I’d realised that it wasn’t gonna be enough to finger him and make him blow me. I needed to shoot inside his ass right fucking now. “Fags are in fucking charge here now.”

Fuck, wait, I need to text Brendan and get him over here. I need him milking my cock so I can focus on writing.

[There are several crude doodles of dicks, asses, and cum splatters in various marker colours before the entry continues on the facing page]

So anyway I slammed Ollie against the wall and shoved my cock into him. My cock’s so much fucking bigger now, too. Like it’s really filling up Brendan’s mouth while he sucks on me. I had enough cock to really saw at Ollie's asshole, and I felt him cum handsfree onto the wall.

“That’s it,” I growled in his ear as I had to hold him up. “This is what you’ve wanted ever since we became neighbours, right? Ollie wanted to get Ronnie’s big alpha dick in his hole.” It felt good to call myself a

[in massive letters on its own line] ALPHA

Ollie didn’t really say words at that point, just lots of “Yes” and “More.” I could hear his voice getting deeper with every thrust, too.

By the time I was getting close, Ollie’s room reeked like ME. It wasn’t a bad smell, but I knew any boy who came in here would be able to tell that all this musk and spice wasn’t just Ollie. It would take weeks for this to be really Ollie’s territory again now that I had marked it. “Fuck, show me that man pussy,” I ordered him, and threw him down in his bed.

Switching holes felt like the most natural thing in the world. I’m fucking built for topping, I can’t believe I thought I hated it. I fucked Ollie through a couple more orgasms and then let myself fill up his man pussy with what felt like 3 loads.

I fell asleep still inside him.

FUCK. I just came in Brendan’s mouth, and it felt totally different. Like, I marked Ollie’s room, but I didn’t mark HIM. His holes are open for anyone to fill. He can own other boys for all I care. But Brendan? Brendan’s fucking MINE. He’s mine he’s mine he’s mine. MY Brendan. [scribbled hastily] I need his hole NOW.

[written later]

I took a pic of Ollie before I started fingering him. I bet he looks totally different now, like me. Gotta go, MY Brendan’s gonna show me how to do a gym session.

To Be Continued...

[aoioozora]

Simon.

Part 7

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Reader and Alejandro interactions that make Simon jealous and a wee bit insecure. Tags: @cmbghost @gluttonybiscuits @paintlavillered @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

____ pulled into the underground parking lot of the apartment complex, sighing. She had just come back from an underwhelming meeting with her editor. 

She had proudly submitted the first few chapters of her manuscript, hoping they would be a hit, but was instead bombarded with the many suggestions of changes that should be made; while the plot itself was alright, the main complaint had to do with the male lead. 

“Frederick is not captivating or interesting enough. He needs more depth and personality… Definitely something different from Elystran,” the voice of the editor echoed in her thoughts as she killed the engine of her car and stepped out of the car. The thought of it once again made her shoulders slump with disappointment. 

Just as she did, out of the elevator across her parking spot came Alejandro. He spotted her and smiled. “Hey,” he greeted, twirling his car keys around his finger. 

“Hey, where you off to? I thought you were at work already.” 

He shrugged, “Took a day off for a doctor's appointment.”

“What happened?” 

“Nasty back pain,” he sighed. Then noticing her dull spirits, he asked if she was okay. 

“Yeah, I just came back from a meeting with the editor and apparently, I have a lot of stuff to change in my manuscript.” 

“Ah,” he nodded solemnly, “I'm sorry to hear that.” 

She shrugged. “It is what it is.” 

Alejandro was silent for a moment, unsure whether to ask whatever he had on his mind. He decided to just go for it. “Do you mind if I read the manuscript? I'd like to see what it's all about. Maybe get a sneak peek into your next book too.” He winked at her. 

“I was actually thinking of asking you just that.” She beamed, happy that he asked. 

Alejandro raised his eyebrows. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Actually, most of the problems in my manuscript are with the male lead, so I think your valuable input as a man would really help me out. And your general opinion as a reader too.” 

The man couldn't help but feel flattered. “Is that so? Then I'd be happy to help you out. Just send me the manuscript and I'll read it soon.” He threw his car keys in the air and caught it in his rugged, tan hand and smiled. 

“Perfect.” Just as she was about to say something else, she got a notification on her phone, which she immediately took out, hoping it was a message from the editor changing his mind about the manuscript. 

But it was Simon. Though a little disappointed, she still smiled, and he noticed.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, raising his eyebrows teasingly at her.

“Yeah,” she nodded, grinning. She kept the phone back in her pocket, deciding to answer him later. 

Alejandro found it a little odd that she wouldn’t reply to Simon immediately, but he figured, “Maybe it’s just me,” and decided to let it be. 

“I’m offended you didn’t tell me you started dating,” he smirked, playfully putting on a tone of feigned offense as he put his hand on his chest. “How’d you two meet?”

She laughed at his dramatics and then briefly related the incident to him. 

“So you two started dating only a month and a half after meeting each other? That's… quick.” Alejandro remarked, raising his eyebrow. He knew people could fall in love at first sight, but that wasn’t the case with everyone. 

“Yeah,” her voice squeaked and her gaze faltered; she cursed herself for it. “We found a lot in common and… hit it off.” 

“Hm…” he exhaled, noticing the vagueness and lack of conviction in her voice and body language, but decided not to comment on it, not wanting to jump into conclusions too soon. “Well, good for you. I’m glad you found someone,” he said with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He then looked at his watch. “I should get going. Don’t wanna be late for the appointment.” 

“Alright, see you later!” she said with some eagerness, wanting to end the conversation, for she didn't know how else she could cover up. 

“See ya, muñequita.” 

Simon had recently followed ____’s spam/personal account, and saw that the skeleton plushie made a very frequent appearance. It showed up even on her main account to her tons of followers. 

The story on her personal account posted late in the morning showed the skeleton perched against her laptop screen along with the caption, “Serious writer’s block rn. He’s cheering me on!”

The next image, posted three hours later was of Alejandro in front of a laptop that looked like hers, captioned, “@-alevargas is giving me some pointers. He's ruthless 💀”

Simon grunted, feeling a spurt of jealousy. He rolled over on his side on Gaz's sofa, nearly kicking Johnny– who was seated on the floor– on the back of his head. 

He didn't hear his friend's yelp as he was too busy feeling bummed that she didn't ask him, especially after the two shared meaningful conversations over her novel before. 

“It's not like I can control who she chooses to share her work with,” he told himself resignedly, “Besides, we're just friends. I'm not supposed to be feeling jealous like this.” 

Yet he couldn't help it. 

Simon decided to scope out his competition by paying a visit to Alejandro's Instagram page. Upon reaching there, he found that the man was an up-and-coming part time model with a fair amount of followers. Even though Simon saw him in real life and found him to be a handsome man, his modeling photographs rendered him dangerously handsome; he had perfectly tanned skin, thick glossy black waves styled gorgeously to suit his masculine features, straight pearly whites for teeth, a near perfect five o'clock shadow, an athletic and muscular body, and a dazzling smile characteristic of motivational speakers. He was Mexican, to top it off, which meant that he most definitely was an outgoing and energetic guy. 

Simon felt his confidence fade into insignificance. Here was a man perfect in every respect like an expertly cut diamond, and compared to him, Simon felt like an ugly, misshapen rock. His own features contrasted with Alejandro's in his brooding, glaring eyes, his pale skin, thin lips, crooked teeth, his somber and quiet outward personality, and most of all, his marred face and body. 

He immediately exited Instagram and dropped the phone on his chest, sighing. “Yeah, with a bloke like him as competition, there's no way I'm winning,” he thought to himself, now resting his arm over his forehead. 

“Oi, Ghosty,” Johnny nudged Simon's leg with his elbow. 

The familiar nickname irked him all of a sudden, as it felt like a reminder of his flaws. “What?” he asked, trying not to sound snappy. 

“Did ye ask ____ if she wants tae come for our one night camp?”

Simon grunted. “I'll ask later.” 

“No. Yer gonna forget. Also, tell her that Lindsey is coming too.” 

Lindsey. Simon remembered Johnny telling him about her soon after he confessed their stalking. A short, freckled, ginger girl; Johnny spoke about her a lot and with excitement too, even calling her ‘Jolene’ in reference to the Dolly Parton song. Simon wasn't particularly surprised that Johnny was gallivanting with yet another lady; that's what he had always been doing since high school. His wit, charm, smiles, energy, and particularly his Scottish accent recommended him greatly to the opposite sex. He only hoped that Lindsey wouldn't take him too seriously. 

Simon picked his phone back up and sent a quick text to ____  about the camping trip and its general details. No sooner was he about to throw his device aside on the coffee table to pay more attention to Gaz who was playing his electric guitar nearby, her reply came. 

Author Girl: of course I'd love to come!  Simon Riley: great. I'll let you in on more details later Simon Riley: Johnny has invited your friend too apparently Author Girl: Really? She didn't even tell me. Simon Riley: u better ask her about it then. 

There appeared to be a slight delay in her reply even though she was online, and he wondered what she was up to. Finally, a reply came after two minutes. 

Author Girl: I'll do that :)  Simon Riley: Are you busy?  Author Girl: yeah kind of. Alejandro is giving me some suggestions for my story

He felt a twinge of jealousy again. “He's still there? At this point, maybe they make a better pair than she and I,” he thought despairingly. 

Simon Riley: yeah, I saw ur Instagram story. How's it coming along?  Author Girl: it's coming along great. We're almost done here Simon Riley: he's at your place?  Author Girl: yeah, he came over to give me some enchiladas he made and I invited him to come in. 

Another twinge of jealousy, and another skill to add to Alejandro's repertoire. 

Simon was so close to typing, “I wish you invited me instead,” but immediately deleted it. 

Simon Riley: cool.  Simon Riley: I'll leave you two then, I got other things to do Author Girl: sure. I'll text u back soon :)  Simon Riley: alright. Cheers

She noticed how he went offline so quickly and stared at her phone for a moment. “Is it just me or did he seem a little off?” she wondered to herself, hoping she wasn't reading too much into it. She shrugged it off, thinking it had to do with whatever he was busy with. 

“Muñequita?” Alejandro's voice interrupted her reverie.

Her eyes snapped back to the man sitting across her. “Yes?” she smiled, not realising she had been engrossed with Simon. 

He looked at the clock on her wall. “I should get going now. It's gotten late,” he said, now placing her laptop on the coffee table and rising. 

“Oh right, I've kept you here long enough,” she chuckled as she rose too. “Wait here for a moment.” 

Alejandro, confused and curious, stood by the coffee table as he watched her disappear behind her kitchen door. She soon appeared with a can of soda, which she put in his hand. 

“That's for you, as thanks for the enchiladas and helping me out,” she said, grinning at him. 

He chuckled and playfully gave her forehead a gentle knock with the edge of the cold can. “Thanks, muñequita,” he smirked, opening the tab of the can with a single finger and taking a long sip of the soda. “Well,” he began as soon as the sip was drowned, “I'll be off now. Good night.” 

“Good night, Alejandro. Take care,” she said as she walked him to the door. 

“You too, nena,” he gave her a little smile. “Call me if you need any more help, alright? I'll be at your beck and call,” he said only half-jokingly, giving her a wink. 

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You don't need to do that, but I'll let you know.”

As soon as he left, she breathed a heavy sigh. The conversation with Alejandro was fruitful, but she was exhausted. She decided to decompress and wind down for the night by taking a nice, long shower and a soak in the bathtub. She then had a simple dinner and just before bedtime, she was found on her bed in her satin pajamas and her phone, cuddled with the cushions and plushies; Little Simon, the most preferred and well loved, was tucked under her arm and pressed against her breast. 

Her cute animal video marathon was interrupted by a message from (Bigger) Simon. 

Simon Riley: wyd? Are you busy?  Author Girl: watching videos. Hbu?  Simon Riley: [photo]  Simon Riley: watching a film with the lads. It's boring 

The photo showed a glowing television screen in a dark room, and a little cameo of Johnny's familiar mohawk at the bottom as he was seated on the floor in front of Simon. 

Simon Riley: I'd rather talk to you

She felt her heart skip a beat. 

Simon Riley: I hope I'm not disturbing you btw Author Girl: no no you're not Author Girl: tbh I'd rather be talking to you too 😂

It was now Simon's turn to feel his heart skip a beat. 

Simon Riley: good, because I'm in for a conversation  Author Girl: what do u wanna talk about?  Simon Riley: hmm Simon Riley: how did it go with Alejandro? 

Unbeknownst her, Simon had to revise that text several times so as to not make himself sound unnecessarily overprotective, prying, and smothering. He hoped that he sounded casual and carefree enough. 

Author Girl: went well. He gave me a lot of pointers for my male characters. My editor wasn't so happy with my male lead so I had to consult an actual guy to help me out Simon Riley: you could've asked me Author Girl: yeah well Alejandro was the first guy I came across so I thought I'd ask him. I was going to ask a bunch of different guys too so I'll be asking you next 😁 Simon Riley: good. I'll be glad to help.  Simon Riley: btw about the trip Simon Riley: I need to fill u in w the finer details. Can I call you rn?  Author Girl: sure

She sat up straight on the bed with bated breath. Though he had a few phone calls with him, she still felt a little bit nervous. She was about to get lost in her thoughts when the blaring of her ringtone made her jump with fright. She scrambled to pick up the call. 

“Hey!” she squeaked in a high pitch, and immediately cleared her throat. 

“Hi darling,” he said, his voice deep and affectionate; she could hear him smiling. “You alright? You seem a little… I don't know, surprised?”

“No,” she said breathlessly, “No, no, I'm fine.” She chuckled. When she heard the faint sound of traffic on his side, she asked, “Are you out already?” 

“Just the balcony,” he answered.” How could you tell?”

“I could hear some traffic.” 

“You're sharp,” he complimented. 

She smiled. “Thanks. Now, what did you want to discuss?” 

“Right, yes,” his voice immediately turned serious. He gave her all the finer details of the trip for a few minutes and at the end of it, he asked, “We're planning on using a car to get there since it's gonna be the five of us and it will save on petrol. Do you think we could use your car?” 

“Well if my car is in good enough condition for you, then I don't mind,” she said, a hint teasingly. 

He chuckled. “If I check it and find anything wrong, I'll give you a bollocking,” he teased back. 

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes, smiling, “You gave me enough of a bollocking the other day when my battery died. I'm not going to let you do it again.”

She heard him laugh, and like it always did, her heart melted. 

“You deserved it,” he scoffed. “But anyway, batteries and bollockings aside, you're okay with your car being used?”

“Absolutely.” 

“And you're comfortable driving long distances? Like I said, it will be a three hour drive, which is quite long by European standards.” 

“I'm okay with it. It's been a long time since I've driven that long though.” 

“Don't worry, if you're tired, I'll take your place.” 

“You? But didn't you say you were a bad driver?” she smirked. 

He could hear her smirking and thought he'd try to make her laugh. “If I try really hard, I can avoid hitting a tree.” 

She burst out laughing. “You're banned from the driver's seat!”

He smiled, gratified. “Whatever shall I do,” he said sarcastically, smiling and shaking his head. 

“If you can prove that you won't hit anything within the first five minutes of the drive, then maybe I'll consider letting you drive for longer,” she challenged, shifting in her seat on the bed and running her finger over the contours of Little Simon on her lap. 

“Challenge accepted,” he said with a self-assured snort. 

She smiled at his confidence and willingness. “So where are we all meeting again?” she asked. 

“At my place. I'll send you directions for it after this.”

“Okay,” she exhaled, now thinking of what his place looked like. What sort of decor and aesthetic he preferred, what sort of colors he liked, and if he kept house plants. 

The two continued to converse a little more until their eyes felt heavy and they started yawning. 

“Are your friends still watching the movie?” she asked, by this time half sitting up and half laying down on her bed. 

“I think it's almost over,” Simon, who was still seated in the balcony, looked over his shoulder at Gaz and Johnny who had their eyes still glued to the television set, despite them having melted into the sofa. “You sound sleepy, darling. You should go.” 

“Hmm…” she sighed. “But I don't want to go,” she whined in a soft, sleepy mumble. 

“Why not?” he questioned smilingly, not wanting her to hear how her sleepy whine was making him melt. 

“I like talking to you,” she replied in a tone that was trying to convince him to stay. She rolled over on her side, holding Little Simon close to her chest. 

The man's distant eyes softened as he heard this and he felt a little tickle in his stomach. His voice deepened, quietened, and mellowed as he replied, “Same here, my darling, but we'll talk again soon, alright? You sound like you're gonna fall asleep right now.” 

He heard another little whine, and he chuckled, unable to stop finding her cuteness so endearing and sweet. “Go on now,” he encouraged gently. 

She finally relented. “Good night, Simon,” she said in a half-whisper. 

“Good night, my love.” 

There ended the call, and Simon kept his phone on his thigh, feeling his face turn warm against the cool, damp air of the outdoors. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled. 

“Fuck me…” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. 

This phone call was a huge boost to his earlier insecurity. Their banter, her acting cute, her not wanting to stop talking to him was evidence enough that she preferred him over Alejandro. He could only hope that his hunch was right and that she wasn't doing the same thing with the other man. 

When the sound of her puppy-like whine echoed in his mind again, he groaned, wishing he could punch a wall so he could feel manly again. 

Any more, and she was going to be the death of him. 

The same woman, blissfully unaware of how her unintentional cuteness affected Simon, was now half-asleep on her bed, fingers curled loosely around her phone, and Little Simon nestled under her arm. 

“Elystran, from your first book, was bubbly and energetic. So I think that it would make sense for Frederick to be a little more reserved and aloof, but someone with power and authority, unyielding, and kind to nobody but Adelheid. Maybe if you knew someone with similar traits like these, you could use them as a model.” Alejandro's words from their earlier discussion echoed in her thoughts. 

Like lazily floating clouds on a clear summer's day, her thoughts drifted, trying to think of who would make the perfect model. 

Her thoughts settled on one man: 

“Simon.”

End of Part 7.

Part 8

Thank you all for your love on this series! I enjoy writing this and all your wonderful likes, comments, and reblogs fuel my passion some more. It's sm fun to write fluff; too bad I don't see a lot of it on tumblr lol. But anyway, thank you all once again. Remember, if you enjoyed this and want to be notified for updates, leave a comment so that I can add you to my tag list. x

[ymechi]

The Naiad au (Scrapped)

EDIT: 17/11/2023 I have decided to rework this series, so this story won't continue, instead there will be a new one with the same concept.

-slight idv and genshin crossover, the mc is an OC and has female pronouns

-english is not my first language

TW: SAGAU, Cult au, imposter au, mentions of death, drowning

part 1 , This is part 2

authors note: if i am correct this part was 1.5k words;; i was so unmotivated to edit i should try to find a beta/editor, sorry for the writing mistakes

She looked up towards the sky from the ocean floor staring at it for a while. While she managed to survive she had no idea what to do. Going to the surface was probably a very bad idea in case she ran into those villagers again, for now she should explore her surroundings.

To swim in the sea came surprisingly easy for her, she was never an excellent swimmer but the way she moved felt eerily natural. She came to realize she did not need to move her arms. Her legs and perhaps something else (a power she did not understand) did most of the work.

Oxygen was not a problem either, she idly wondered if she had gills somewhere on her body.

She swam in between some kelps and fishes. There was, yellow, green and red big huge vines which she saw in between too. The floor beneath was a vibrant green shade, everything here was so colorful and beautiful. It felt so alive and thriving. She would have thought that the ocean deep beneath was darker, murkier and scarier but she fell in awe the more she saw.

She looked up and saw the sun giving the water above a golden hue, soon the sun would set but she did not feel afraid at the thought of the dark.

The ocean was mostly empty of any dangers. There were so many colorful schools of fishes swimming around, occasionally she would see a big fish that would look like a predator but they would never come to her and harm her. Perhaps she did not look tasty to them?

At the thought of food she did feel slightly hungry but it wasn't anything too urgent, yet it was best to find something to eat now while she could. She looked around and saw some seaweed. She did remember seaweed could be edible and the water here looked clean, there was no harm right?

At most it would perhaps taste gross, she tore off some of the seaweed and hesitantly took a bite. The taste was not unpleasant, it tasted salty and the texture was not slimy like she expected but rather a bit rubbery. She happily took another bite, the best part there was a lot of seaweed so the chances of her running out of it was very low. While eating her impromptu lunch-dinner she did not notice a few fish appearing beside her. When she noticed them she looked at them curiously one of them came near her face and bumped into her mouth.

She was rather confused and she started to laugh. While laughing the fish entered her mouth which caused her to panic, which caused her to choke and then her trying to get the fish out of her mouth. She looked at the troublemaking fish she finally caught in her hand in confusion. 

What was going on?

in her peripheral she saw one of the larger fish approach her, it looked like a salmon but she was not sure. The larger fish approached one of the smaller fishes and opened its mouth, she could see the fish's sharp teeth. The smaller fish then willingly entered the pseudo salmon's mouth much to her shock.

The salmon then began to eat the smaller fish all while looking at her and she could not help but to think of the smaller fish's earlier actions. They wanted her to eat them?

This was all too confusing. Fish are not supposed to behave like this, since when did prey willingly enter a predator's mouth? The fish in her hand wiggled before approaching her face, more specifically her mouth.

Should she try to do it? Maybe just one bite. . .

She held both ends of the fish with her hands, closed her eyes, did a sharp exhale and took a bite.

crunch.

Yikes she forgot about the fish bones but the bones did not hurt at all. The fish's taste was rather tasty and flavorful, much better than the seagrass. Another fish appeared in front of her, a different species than the one she ate and she took the fish and proceeded to eat it too, this one tasted a little bit saltier. Soon different species of smaller fish came up to her and she ate one of each.

After a while she patted her stomach. She really overdid it but in her defense she never had eaten fish like this, they were raw and despite that they were tasty. Hopefully since she was presumably no longer human she would not catch any diseases from eating raw fish. . .

She slowly traced her sharp teeth with her tongue, another discovery about her body. Speaking of her body she really should move around to digest the food. With that in mind she began swimming around with no direction in mind exploring the seafloor and its vibrant ecosystem.

She followed some manta ray looking creatures (she was pretty sure manta rays were not green). She swam along with them doing twists and turns which caused her to laugh. One nudged her on the hand which caused her to start petting the manta ray like one would a dog, the texture was not unpleasant to the touch.

After some more playing around with the manta rays they approached. . . something?

 She looked towards the direction of the place. It was ominous, omitting a weird aura. It was as if she should not approach the place but that only piqued her curiosity even more. If she was sane she would not approach whatever that place was yet she has gone through multiple literal life changing events so she went ahead to the direction of the place.

It certainly did not disappoint.

She gasped as she saw the tall pillars holding down a creature which she could only describe as a blue sea dragon with multiple heads. The structure despite being so impressive looked old yet so sturdy still holding down the monster (or creature?).

She hesitantly approached a pillar that pinned down one head. 

The creature snapped its eyes open.

She made a small squeaking sound and fumbled backwards. The bound creature gave her what she could only assume was an unimpressed yet annoyed glare as they stared down at her.

She shivered yet stood frozen still in his glare unable to move or break eye contact.

"You should not be here."

She gulped and frantically tried to come up with something.

"I-i- i just followed a trail. . ."

"This place is sealed, no mortal or god should be able to come in here."

The creature ignored her previous comment and the annoyed expression he had previously turned into curiosity as he stared down at her like one would do to a dog who made an interesting trick.

"I am- i don't know," she cringed at her own words, "I uhh sort of woke up in here, the ocean, and-and just came upon this place."

The more she spoke the more she wanted to dig herself into a hole and curl in there. The creature before her did not change his expression, continuing to stare at her.

"You were just born?"

Born? That was one way to look at it. She did die but now she is alive, so a sort of rebirth.

"Yes?"

Her answer came more out as a question, she herself was unaware what really happened.

"I see and do you have a name?"

the creature looked at her expectantly as if that would give the creature an answer to a question. For her that question was a curse.

Impostor. Heretic. Stealing the name of the creator.

She sucked in a harsh breath except what filled her lungs was water reminding her of her drowning. Her mind began to go hazy, flashes of the village mob still inside of her mind. She hugged her body tightly. Her real name was a liability in this world. Yet just like her body she can change it as well.

"It's Naiad."

The creature closed their eyes, perhaps thinking or reminiscing. She doubted the creature would know of her name. The name was not of this world.

"I see you were born with a name, not many do."

Naiad looked at him questioningly, not really sure how to answer, she had so many questions other than what he just said. Yet could she ask them? Despite having a powerful aura he was pinned down, as if they were imprisoned, the pillars acting as chains to this prison. If Naiad did end up offending them perhaps she could make a run- swim for it.

"Uhm. . . What do I call you?" She asked with a meek voice.

He looked down at her and she stared back. Naiad felt like time  passed slower before the creature finally answered.

"I am Osial."

[epochofbelief]

Strictly Confidential: Chapter Five

A Modern Feysand AU

She’s a law student turned confidential informant. He’s a federal prosecutor with one goal: bringing down her boyfriend for his white collar crimes. What could go wrong?

Author's Note: Sorry it took so long everyone. Life is... insane. But it's spring break, so I finally had the time and energy to devote to this. It's kind of long, so fair warning ;) Also, I did just spend four straight hours writing and editing this so if there are typos… there are typos💓

Strictly Confidential Masterlist

My Other (Completed) Feysand AU Fic: What to Expect When You're (Not) Expecting

Chapter Five:

A week after Feyre told Azriel she would turn informant against her partner, she still hadn't heard from the FBI.

And her week only grew worse with every passing day. Her professors had hit the mid-semester stride, assigning longer and longer readings. She continued to receive invitations to networking events and all manner of schmoozing and boozing opportunities from her future firm. Various midterm writing assignments were ramping up, and she had just finished a particularly brutal round of citation checks for the Law Review legal journal on which she was a staff editor.

Her only saving grace had been Tamlin’s obvious exhaustion. He left the apartment before Feyre woke up and returned long after she fell asleep.

If it had been any other way, Feyre wasn’t sure how she would have survived the week. The thought of Tamlin touching her sent shivers down her spine and images of what Rhys’s younger sister might look like spinning through her head. Did Tamlin know about what had been done to keep his secret? How involved was he in the more violent aspects of his criminal enterprise?

The questions were endless, and yet Feyre had no one to ask. She was supposed to be the one finding answers, anyway.

And while she desired to put a stop to Tamlin's crimes, she couldn't help but find it ironic that this was just one more thing that had come to rest on her shoulders.

And the FBI didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry, Feyre thought irritably as she waved Tamlin out the door on Thursday night. He had come home early to pack a bag—once again leaving town for the weekend. On business.

Feyre let him press a kiss to his cheek, then shut the door on his back, doing her best not to slam it.

She turned and leaned against the wood, scrubbing her face with her hands. If the FBI didn’t tell her what to do soon, she would forget about the deal and break up with Tamlin. Move back in with her family. It would mean adding a job to her academic workload, but she didn’t think she would survive more than a few months in her family’s house. Nesta would freeze her out until she needed something. Elain's perpetually present boyfriend disliked Feyre for some reason. Her father wouldn’t know what to do with her.

Feyre sighed, then jumped as a knock on the door behind her head reverberated through her skull.

“Did you forget something?” She asked, flinging open the door, expecting to find a harried-looking Tamlin on the other side.

Instead, she came face-to-face with Rhysand, a stunning blonde woman next to him.

“Oh,” Feyre squeaked.

Rhysand grimaced at her, dressed once again in all-black suit, tailored perfectly to his muscular body. Though he looked more casual than Feyre had ever seen him—his usual black tie was missing, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. Feyre swallowed, averting her eyes from his tanned upper chest and violet eyes, instead surveying the blonde.

The woman was also clad in all-black, her blazer buttoned around a narrow waist, a short pencil skirt emphasizing long, tanned legs. Her blonde hair cascaded over both shoulders, and her lips, coated in a bright red lipstick, tugged into a smile.

Perhaps this was Rhys’s partner? Feyre’s eyes snapped back to Rhys’s at the thought, as if she would find the answer there.

“As much as I would love to stand here and watch you two stare at each other, the hall is a little exposed. May we come in, Feyre?” The blonde asked, brushing past Feyre without waiting for an answer, disappearing into the apartment behind her.

“You came,” Feyre breathed.

Rhys cocked an eyebrow. “Sorry it took so long.”

“Would you two get the hell in here?” The woman’s voice sounded from behind Feyre.

Rhys grimaced again, gesturing for Feyre to lead the way into the apartment. “Please excuse my cousin, Morrigan Underwood. She’s one of the best the FBI has to offer, but most days she’s just a pain in my…” Rhys trailed off, and Feyre couldn’t help but grin as Morrigan extended a manicured hand toward her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Feyre,” Morrigan said, smiling warmly down at her. Morrigan was tall, and the heels only added to her height. Next to the beautiful FBI agent, Feyre felt short and grubby in her socked feet next and oversized t-shirt. “Sorry to barge in on you. We got lucky tonight—video cameras are down. So we thought we would come to you.”

“Just luck?” Feyre asked, folding her arms and leaning against the kitchen island.

Morrigan and Rhys exchanged a glance. “Luck with a little help from Azriel,” Morrigan admitted, shrugging.

Gods, they really were the FBI, Feyre thought, walking around the kitchen island and opening the fridge. “Can I offer either of you—a water? Or something else?”

“We don’t want to trouble you,” Rhys said, at exactly the same moment Morrigan said, “Absolutely. Tamlin took forever to leave, and even though someone knew there would be a stake-out, he didn't think to stock refreshments in his car.” Her brown eyes cut to Rhys.

“Mor,” Rhys groaned.

Feyre smiled to herself as she retrieved three bottles of sparkling water from the fridge and returned to the living room, sitting in the armchair across from the couch where Rhys and Mor had seated themselves.

“Nice place,” Mor commented, her eyes scanning the room appreciatively. “Very . . . minimalist.”

Feyre shrugged. “It’s not exactly to my tastes, but thank you.”

Feyre ignored Mor’s cocked eyebrow and the crease that formed between Rhys’s eyebrows at her words. She cleared her throat. “So. Care to share why you’re here?”

Mor popped the top off her water and sank back into the plush white couch, lifting the drink toward Rhys. “You’re up, cousin.”

Rhys leaned forward on the couch, his own water forgotten on the sleek coffee table in front of him. Feyre couldn’t figure out where to look as she waited for him to speak. His large hands, clasped in front of him. The sliver of exposed skin just below his neck. Those violet eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul.

She settled for his forehead as Rhys began to speak. “You took a risk last week, going into Spring Solutions without backup. If something had happened to you in there, we would have had no way of knowing.”

Feyre folded her arms. “I thought you wanted me to gather information for you. How am I supposed to do that if I can’t go anywhere without an escort?”

“Backup doesn’t necessarily mean an escort.”

-----

Two hours later, Feyre’s mind was about to explode with all the information Rhys and Mor had drilled into her head. They had provided her with a wire, an earpiece that she could hear and speak to them through, an exhaustive explanation of how dangerous being an informant was, and a briefing on proper reporting and contacting methods she would have to engage in when reaching out to the FBI.

She drew the line at the bulletproof vest Mor retrieved from her bag.

“Where am I supposed to hide that?” Feyre demanded. “The tech is enough.”

Mor and Rhys exchanged a glance. “Feyre…” Rhys trailed off, his eyes searching her face.

“You make me take that and this whole thing is over before it began.”

Rhys held up his hands. “Alright. But if you dream up any more ridiculous plans to go into the heart of enemy territory, you contact us first. We’ll get it to you.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. She didn’t envision herself getting shot any time soon.

“Lastly,” Mor said. “Here’s the address of our future meeting place.” She handed Feyre a scrap of paper. “Memorize it and then destroy it. You can get there by train, so transport isn’t a problem. You’ll have to switch trains about halfway there, but that’s your opportunity to determine if you’re being followed. If you have any suspicion whatsoever that someone is on your tail, do not go to the safe house. Just board a train back in the direction of the city.”

Feyre looked down at the address. “How often will we be meeting?”

“Only as often as necessary. You let us know through that earpiece and we’ll arrange it. Best not to create any new strange habits that people might notice. Memorize.”

Feyre nodded, swallowing the sudden wave of anxiety cresting through her. She was truly doing this. Working for the FBI. Attempting to inifiltrate a strange and possibly deadly organization. Betraying her boyfriend—the man who had fed her and housed her for the better part of her law school experience.

Mor cleared her throat, glancing at her watch. “I’ve got a meeting. Finish up here, Rhys?”

Rhys nodded, clapping his cousin on the shoulder as she stood, extending her hand once more to Feyre. “Good luck, Feyre. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again very soon.” Feyre nodded, and Mor paused, her manicured hand squeezing Feyre’s. “Do try not to get caught.”

Then she was gone.

Leaving Feyre and Rhysand alone in the enormous, stark apartment.

“Is there much more?” Feyre asked, forcing herself to keep her arms at her sides rather than swinging them in the awkward silence.

“No, but—” Rhys halted midsentence as Feyre slumped into the enormous white armchair next to the window, relieved to hear those words coming from Rhys’s mouth. She honestly hadn’t been sure if she could take much more.

Her entire relationship was a lie—everything was a lie. She had trusted Tamlin with her safety. With her nights and days and most of the time in between. He had given her a place to stay after years spent under her family’s influence.

And yet.

“He’s been lying to me,” Feyre muttered, more to herself than Rhysand, who had leaned closer to her as her thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper. “This whole time.”

Her eyes drifted down from the ceiling, locking instead with Rhys’s blue eyes, drinking her in from his position on the couch.

“I never knew,” she said softly. “I never even suspected. You must think I’m some kind of idiot.”

A muscle fluttered in Rhys’s jaw, and he shook his head, one hand extending toward her as if to rest it on her knee. But he thought better of it, instead clasping his hands between his knees. “On the contrary. I’ve spent a year investigating Tamlin and he's slipped through my fingers every time. It’s no surprise you never knew."

Feyre bent over her knees, hands covering her face. “How long will it take?”

Rhys cleared his throat, thankfully understanding her meaning. “It depends. The more and better information we get, the easier it will be to charge him.”

When Feyre didn’t respond, Rhys continued.

“But if you want out, Feyre, say the word. We—I—would never dream of forcing you to stay in this relationship just for our purposes. There would be no hard feelings if you changed your mind.”

Feyre’s hands slid from her face, and she returned Rhys’s stare with one of her own. “No.”

“No?”

“I want to do this. I have to do this. If what you say is true, Tamlin is the reason your sister—and who knows how many others who knew too much—are gone. I can’t stand by and watch that happen. Can’t leave him knowing about the horrible things he is causing, or at least sanctioning.”

She could have sworn a glimmer of pride shone in Rhys’s eyes as he surveyed her. And despite everything, despite the loss of his sister and the investigation and the potential threat to Feyre’s life, he smiled.

“Then let’s bring that bastard down.”  

Feyre couldn’t resist the grin she shot back.

-----

A week later, some of that excitement had died down. Tamlin had been at work around the clock, busy with various “projects” as he described them to Feyre. However, he had revealed that his next out-of-town venture would take place in late October—just a few weeks away. And Feyre was determined to discover the destination. So in addition to her studies and checking in every so often with the FBI through her earpiece, she spent the wee hours of the morning combing through Tamlin's computer in secret, digging through his bags and looking through his phone for anything that might reveal his future plans.

She continued to come up empty-handed.

But she didn't intend to give up, even though her exhaustion grew worse with every passing day. Feyre resolved to take a break from her sleuthing that night as she walked to another networking event, this one just a few blocks from her apartment.

She arrived in her best black suit, pencil skirt just brushing the tops of her knees, black tights beneath warding off the crisp fall air. She had spent extra time on her hair that evening—adding a little extra dry shampoo, teasing the golden-brown strands into a gentle curl at the ends. She even went so far as to add an extra layer of mascara before she came to her senses.

There was only one reason Feyre was putting in this extra effort, despite the minuscule chance that the reason would even be present at the mixer.

United States Attorneys surely had better things to do than attend every attorney/law-student networking event in the city.

And besides. Feyre was still unavailable, even if Tamlin had barely laid a finger on her the past few weeks, as busy and stressed with work as they both had been. Even if in her mind, her relationship with Tamlin had long since come to a crashing halt.

So she had resisted the urge to dab on some blush before she rushed out the door, tying her black overcoat around her waist as she rode the elevator to the lobby. Just a half hour later, she found herself engaged in a spectacularly dull conversation with a pair of junior associates from one of the other firms in Prythian. Feyre had forgotten their names almost as soon as she had heard them, distracted as she was with thoughts of her mission for Rhys—with thoughts of whether Rhys might be present tonight.

“Do you have plans to pursue partnership?” One of the attorneys—a middle-aged woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes—inquired, taking another sip of her mixed drink. The woman was tipsy, but quite adept at hiding it. If Feyre hadn’t spent years observing her older sister Nesta’s drinking habits, she might not have noticed.

Unfortunately, the woman was staring at Feyre so intently that Feyre decided she would be forced to answer the question. Feyre’s mind raced, and she genuinely wondered whether saying, “I don’t know—nor do I much care at this point,” might be disadvantageous to her career. If it might get back to Hybern & Night.

But then she felt a hand at her elbow, a warm male body sidling up next to her, the scent of citrus and the sea washing over her in a wave.

“Feyre, darling. You’ve been avoiding me. My father insisted I meet his firm’s future associate.”

Feyre bit back her smile as she turned her attention from the attorneys in front of her to the man who had just stepped up to her elbow. Blue-black hair slightly tousled, as if he had just run his fingers through it. Violet eyes dancing with mirth. Black-on-black suit only emphasizing his imposing figure.

“I didn’t realize we were engaged in a game of hide-and-seek,” Feyre said. “Will you excuse me, ladies? It was wonderful to meet you both.”

And she allowed Rhys to whisk her away, through the crowded ballroom where the event was being held and up a set of stairs, where he pulled her out to a small balcony overlooking one of Prythian’s many parks to the rear of the building.

“That’s twice now,” Rhys noted, releasing Feyre’s elbow only when she leaned against the railing, her own elbows resting against the cool metal.

“Twice what?”

“That I’ve saved you from the vultures. However will you repay me?” Rhys asked, leaning onto the railing next to her.

“I’ll think of something,” Feyre said quietly, raising her eybrows.

“How are you holding up?” Rhys asked.

Feyre blinked. She had expected him to press her for details on Tamlin’s movements, or perhaps encourage her to try just a little harder to get him something, anything he could use to find justice for his little sister.

“I’m—fine,” she said haltingly. “Tamlin has another trip in two weeks, but you already know that. He’s…resistant to the idea of me hanging around Spring Solutions. Keeps insisting it’s going to interfere with my studies.”

Rhys sighed, shifting on his feet. Feyre tried to ignore how the motion brought his arm closer to hers, so close she could feel the heat of his body soaking into hers. “He may be an insufferable bastard, but the man is cautious.”

Feyre tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her wince at the words “insufferable bastard.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys said, once again surprising Feyre at how adeptly he said the right thing, how flawlessly he interpreted her mannerisms and expressions. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

But Feyre shook her head. “You have every right, Rhysand. After what he did to your sister…”

Rhys let out a long sigh. Feyre echoed him a moment later.

"You called them vultures," Feyre said after several silent moments passed.

"And?"

"Why did you become an attorney if—if you find most of those people in there as abhorrent as I do?"

Rhys shrugged, the movement causing his shoulder to brush against Feyre's. "I come from a very long line of attorneys. In a way, it was the only future I ever really considered for myself. Even though I hated the way my father's work kept him so busy, how he constantly chose his billable hours over his family. I knew he never had any passion for the law he practiced. He merely craved the money, and the prestige, and the reputation."

Feyre turned to observe Rhys, studying the side of his face as he gazed out over the park.

"But I think watching all that made me want to be a different kind of attorney. Someone who cares about the people I'm representing, the cases I'm bringing. And a career as a prosecutor seemed like a good place to start—at least for now.” Rhys paused, as if weighing whether to say what he said next. “I'm not sure if it's made me any better than my father."

"For what it's worth, Rhys, I don't consider you a vulture."

Rhys met her eyes then, his face so open, so vulnerable, for one brief moment. "Likewise," he said quietly.

Feyre grimaced, choosing not to argue with him. Even though she was the one chasing the money that came with a big law job. Even though everything Rhys had said could very well describe her situation exactly.

“You want to get out of here?” Rhys said suddenly.

Feyre turned to look at him. “And do… what?”

“Take a walk. Grab a drink. Do anything other than talk to those insufferable sycophants prowling around that ballroom.”

Feyre swallowed, and before she could talk herself out of it, she heard herself saying, “Let’s go.”

An hour later, Feyre was two glasses of wine deep, laughing at something Rhys said to the strangers they had befriended at the bar a few blocks from the networking event. She hadn't had this much fun in—in a very long time. She couldn't remember the last time she went out with her friends on a whim, talking about everything and nothing, without discussing law school or work or anything serious.

But Rhys was fun. And Feyre was enjoying herself immensely. She even felt a little sad when Rhys paid the tab over her protests, insisting that he remembered all too well the weight of law school loans, before he ushered her out of the bar.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said as they emerged into the dark streets of Prythian.

“You don’t have to do that,” Feyre said.

“It’s dark and we’re downtown.”

Feyre bit her lip, but nodded in assent, turning right to lead Rhys in the direction of her apartment. They made it all of five steps before Rhys's phone rang.

"Sorry," he mouthed at Feyre, answering the call and guiding her over to the edge of the sidewalk.

"Night speaking," he said quietly, leaning against the wall.

Feyre leaned next to him, grateful for the buzz of the alcohol keeping her warm and relaxed as she waited. Grateful that it kept her from thinking too hard about the fact that she had just gone out with drinks. With Rhysand. Alone.

But the languid peace coursing through Feyre's veins evaporated when Rhys stiffened next to her.

"Who is this?" Rhys bit out.

Feyre shivered at the ice in his tone.

"Tell me who you are," Rhys growled, even as he seized Feyre's elbow and tugged her down an alley to their right, pushing her against the wall and crowding close, as if he could shield her very existence from the world around them.

"Who is this?" Rhys demanded once more.

Who the hell was on the other end of that phone call?

"Fuck!" Rhys exclaimed, the phone going dark in his hand as whoever he had been speaking to hung up.

"Who was it?" Feyre whispered.

"I don't know. They wouldn't tell me."

"What did they say?"

Feyre felt the blood drain from her face as Rhys explained.

"We have to go," Feyre said, hands coming up to push at Rhys's chest.

"No. I have to get you home. I'm calling Cassian. He'll handle it." Rhys unlocked his phone, fingers flying across the screen.

Feyre gritted her teeth. "We're two blocks away. I'll be fine. Let's just go."

And before Rhys could argue, she took off down the alleyway, jaw set.

They made it to the alley in less than five minutes, Feyre skidding to a halt at its mouth. Rhys had just hung up with Cassian, whom he had told to meet them there as quickly as possible. Feyre made to plunge into the dark alley, but Rhys grabbed her arm, shaking his head. "Stay behind me," he insisted, moving in front of and stalking slowly down the alley.

They were halfway through the space when Feyre caught sight of what looked like a pile of rags or fabric slumped against the alley wall about twenty feet in front of them.

Only, they weren’t rags, Feyre realized, watching the dark lump on the alley floor shift as Rhys approached.

It was a person—a man—laying on his side, head facing away from them, legs tangled together.

Azriel.

Feyre dropped to her knees next to the agent, the two glasses of wine she had drank earlier now threatening to come up when she beheld the state Azriel was in.

Two black eyes were already forming, his eyes so swollen they were mere slits in his red, black and blue face. Dried blood crusted the skin under his nose and continued all the way down his chin.

Feyre rested an arm on Azriel's shoulder, praying the agent wasn't bruised there as well.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

To her surprise, the agent chuckled. “Believe me, Feyre,” he grunted, his raspy voice echoing slightly in the alley around them. “I’ve had worse.”

Feyre bit her lip as Rhys brushed a hand lightly over her shoulder before joining her on the ground before Azriel.

"How long?" Rhys asked.

"Half hour," Azriel rasped, a series of hacking coughs interrupting him before he could continue. "Maybe longer."

Feyre saw the shadow of rage that passed across Rhys's face as he realized how long Azriel’s attackers had waited to call him. But he didn't verbalize it, instead murmuring, “Let’s get you up, friend." He gripped Azriel’s shoulders and pulling him into a seated position. A shaft of moonlight illuminated the agent, allowing Feyre to more fully appreciate just how battered his face was.

“Gods,” Feyre breathed, following Rhys’s lead and ducking under one of Azriel’s arms.

“It was Spring,” Azriel said quietly, once they had managed to drag him halfway down the alley.

Feyre sensed, rather than saw, Rhys stiffen at the words.

“How do you know?” Feyre asked quietly.

Azriel coughed, spitting a wad of blood onto the alley floor in front of them. “They jumped me,” he said. “Took my gun, then a few of them held me down so they could take turns hitting me. I couldn’t do anything but let them—let them—” He broke off. “Then they dumped me and said they would send someone to retrieve me. I didn't know if that meant someone to finish the job, or help. The only other thing they said, the whole time, was right before one of them stomped on my head: 'Stay the hell away from Spring Solutions. Or else.' I was out cold after that. I think."

A chill ran down Feyre’s spine.

What did or else mean?

None of them spoke another word as Rhys guided them to the mouth of the alley, where a black car awaited. Rhys ripped open the door, revealing a tense-looking Mor in the backseat. She beckoned, taking Azriel from Rhys and Feyre.

Rhys got into the front seat, and Feyre climbed into the back with Az and Mor.

"Gods above," Mor breathed, surveying the damage done to Azriel's face. "What happened?"

Rhys explained as Cassian drove them quickly away from the alley, winding through the dark streets of downtown Prythian.

"Do you think they know?" Mor asked. "About Feyre?"

Rhys shook his head. "No. It was just a coincidence that she was with me at the time."

"They're getting more confident," Cassian noted, pulling his car to a stop in a darkened side street.

It took Feyre a moment to recognize where they were.

"I'll walk you to the building," Rhys said, unbuckling his seat belt and getting out of the car.

“What?” Feyre demanded, mouth falling open as her eyes found Mor's. "I can't go up there knowing—knowing." She broke off, unable to finish her thought. How could she return to her apartment after people from Tamlin's company had just beat Azriel into a bloody pulp just to make a statement?

"Please, Feyre. We need to get Azriel medical care, and the longer you're with us, the greater the chance your cover is blown," Mor pleaded, one manicured hand brushing back Azriel's silky black hair.

"I want to help," Feyre said quietly as Rhys opened the car door next to her.

"You are helping. You already have helped," Rhys said, reaching inside the car to unbuckle Feyre's seat belt. "We need to keep you in a position where you can help."

Feyre swallowed, and let Rhys coax her from the car.

"I'll call you to let you know how he's doing," Mor offered as Rhys shut the door.

Rhys was quiet as he escorted Feyre to the side entrance of her building. "Use that earpiece as soon as you get upstairs. Let us know you go to your apartment safely. Okay?"

"And what if my cover is blown?" Feyre asked.

"If we don't hear from you in ten minutes, I'll come bursting into that apartment myself. They wouldn’t waste time on Azriel if they found out about you.”

Feyre repressed a shudder at the implication in those words: That if Tamlin’s people discovered her treachery, they would come straight for her rather than risk her retreating to the FBI before they could silence her.

Feyre gritted her teeth, lingering in the open doorway.

"Please, Feyre. We have to get Azriel help."

There were so many things Feyre wanted to say, things that the attack on Azriel now made impossible. Had it really been less than an hour since she and Rhys had sat in that bar, laughing and talking without a care in the world?

But Feyre said nothing, instead letting the glass door swing shut between her and Rhys. And since she knew Rhys wouldn't turn to leave until she did, Feyre trudged up the stairs, fighting the urge to turn back for a last glimpse of the attorney watching her.

Taglist: @rhysiedarling @shedoessoshedoes @popjunkie42 @adreamof-spring @that-little-red-head @witch-and-her-witcher @cinnamonmelody @azrielover @1islessthan3books @jenahid @toporecall @martzja @marinated-fish @riribbonss @tunaababee @muaddib-iswriting @queenofdivas

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 5)

(angel w/ angel daughter reader)

(caution!!!!!: mild descriptions of violence)

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hotel. angel reader resembles a fawn.)

(tags: @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @just-here-reading @avitute @iam-d3ad-ins1de @des-deswain5621 @xephieeee @glowymxxn @potaturkey17 @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

My lovely editor<333: @kruncher

You were now in Rosie’s Emporium.

In Cannibal Town.

God.

In absolute shambles you were.. if it were in any other place it would be embarrassing seeing your state but considering the drastic circumstances and absolute 180 in the changes of temperatures, colors, smells, energy and even uncovered emotions that you haven't felt since you were a human finally coming out of the shadows and resurfacing, it all simply felt too much and was overwhelming your psyche.

Yet despite this— you knew you had to tough this out.

But here you were, gentle hands trembling and holding a cup of.. tea.

At least you really hoped it was tea.

“Now sweetie what in the unholy world are you doing down here? Hm?

Now now don’t keep me in suspense, if it helps any I’m not going to let anyone else’s filthy hands get on your pure little self!

Oh and me included, minus the filthy hands, mine are quite taken care of.”

This lady only made you cower a bit more simply by talking. Her sharp teeth and this confident air around her only intimidated you more.

If that’s the case.. how’d you even get in this building? Surely you had enough time to run from her in the middle of it..

Well, it's simply because she kept you from getting eaten by yet an oncoming crowd that saw the interaction with you and this apparent 'Susan' to which they seemed to have taken the old lady’s comment a bit.. too much to heart.

Their claws and baring mouths full of sharp bone, tongues salivating in wanting to try a taste of your fresh golden blood that gave off a sweet scent to them from afar.

She managed to scurry them all off with a few demands and a set of sharp words of her own, keeping you safe from becoming cannibal food for the day and honestly you'd rather be on this lady's good side if she had that kind of power to drive away the cannibals the way she did.

Your wing was even cleaned and bandaged by her despite your constant flapping in distrust and fear when she came near, feathers sprawling everywhere as if several pillows were ripped open in a kind of violent pillow fight. You were seated at a table with two chairs facing each other on each side, a bit farther back in the emporium.

“…Promise you won’t eat me, miss..”

The lady smiled fondly, her expression looking like she’s smiling towards a young child scared of the big wide world. She seemed to be genuine and true with her actions but you just really wanted to get to the hotel as soon as you could..

“Of course little thing, I promise I won’t.

Oh and where are my manners! The name's Rosie, sweetheart, I own the Cannibal Town and I lead the Cannibal Colony. Absolutely pleased to meet you."

You looked up at her with eyes full of fear and a hesitance to trust her, to give her any information at all about your circumstances.

But you weren’t raised to lie.. maybe twisting the truth wouldn’t hurt much? Keeping a few things under the rug?..

“Nice to meet you too miss Rosie..you may call me-- uh- ______.

Look I’m.. Im just looking to get back home. I heard Charlie Morningstar can help since she was in heaven awhile ago and she's the Princess of Hell, I must speak with her soon..”

The woman’s face brightened up like the sun with her sharp-toothed smile widening in remembrance. Spooking you out a tad..

“Charlie Morningstar! A real sweet thing that girl, adorable little blonde. Just a few months ago she came about and managed to convince my town of misfits to help her in preparing to defend the hotel against the angels! My goodness did she sweep them off their feet!

But yes, I know exactly where her hotel is! I can take you there as well, not a long stroll from here I'm sure. Oh but.. "

She paused with the back of her hand gently grazing your spread injured wing, it recoiling back at her touch.

"Wouldn't be surprised if any other wild sinner would want to hunt you down for sport, so maybe a nice stroll would be out of the question."

Her pale hand then moved to hold the end of her chin, the other resting on her hip as the gears in her heard started moving to find a safer passage to the hotel for you to get there.. her piqued interest in you has her wanting to see you advance a bit to see what potential you could have in this entire quarry between the both worlds at war.

"Aha! Perhaps we could have you hide inside one of those delivery carriages the townspeople have been taking in and out here to bring materials and food to the hotel. That way you avoid being seen by any potential eyes that could bring bad luck to you."

She walked up towards the large window illuminating the inside of the emporium as well as the two of you with light from Hell's pink and red hues that brighten the entirety of the realm. Her eyes now searching for a particular large object and... voila! She found it right across the town square and standing right in front of a local shop.

"Oh isn't this just perfect! There is one right there, the timing couldn't be more convenient."

You inhaled a quick breath and exhaled it as fast as it came, somehow still incredibly nervous being in a small space with this woman. Oh geez..

But you couldn't exactly complain since you did contribute in having yourself in this situation.

"So.. could we perhaps go.. now? I just.. want to head home as soon and safe as possible ma'am.."

She then suddenly turned to look at you, dress twirling and the feathers on her hat swaying in a way that indicates their movements could barley keep up with hers.

"Oh but of course! Considering half of the town's population is working on the hotel I must visit and check up on them as much as I can. I also must visit a dear ol' friend of mine, real gas that man is.

Well, then let's hop to it now shall we? We better hurry up while our tool of transportation is still here."

Your ears peaked up in slight delight at the fact that you're actually going to be heading over to the hotel now! So soon as well! This saves you so much more time, effort, and blood in trying to find the place you just knew you had to thank the woman in dark fuchsia and gray for taking you all this way. A little voice couldn't help but nag at you at how too convenient this all is.

Too bad you didn't think too much into that.

"Y..Yes! Yes ma'am!" You got up from your seat and set down your cup saucer on the table and scrambled to catch up to her and her pace with your heart pumping in your chest.

Both of you strolled across the Cannibal Plaza towards and up to the local shop with two large delivery carriages that seemed to lean on to a more older style, with them seemingly from the 1900s and were designed as if they were to hold containers like dairy and such and even people, it includeda large window on the driver's seat where they could peak in by turning their backs and looking down.. oh and it'd be a crime to not mention the horses! Although they seemed more undead and violently volatile like their cannibal owners they still were a nice touch.

Rosie and you approached them, Rosie with more confidence and you.. the opposite. "Walter, George," she spoke, an air of casualness persists "Good to see your faces alive and well! Hope you two got a minute to speak to two esteemed gals?"

The men, named Walter and George, looked up at the two of you with interest.

"Well if it isn't our Rosie! Good to see you as well madame, we sure hope you're enjoying this fine day with glee!" the man, seemingly the one called Walter spoke.

Rosie chuckled, "Oh I sure am, I even found myself a new little friend here! Which leads me in having to ask the both of you for a favor that is of most importance."

The other cannibal that goes by George focused his eyes on her and her words, "Why, anything for our beloved Rosie! What can we do for you ma'am?"

You hid slightly behind Rosie, feeling a strange comfort in just her status and power over rest of her people that made you feel at least a bit more safe from them. You would've continued listening to her conversation with the two men if the distant yet also near sound of explosions echoed across all of Hell which made you jump a little and stifle a gasp ever so slightly.

No one exactly noticed this or acknowledged the sounds too much which got you thinking if this is truly just an everyday thing.. of course it is it's hell but-- geez.. how can anyone live like this! Explosions, blood, guts, corpses, drugs, diseases, infections running rampant and indulged in the way pigs would at old farm food.

Just the thought of that damn severed hand being eaten by that little kid that you stumbled upon earlier just made you sick.. ugh.

Is this what Alastor indulges in as well?.. in his own sick way? Is he truly comfortable in a place like this?..

He must be, if he's murdered as many as he did when he was alive, you didn't dare think how many he's hurt and murdered down here as well.

He truly did belong here, in hell. He was a sadist and a psycho through and through.

And that's what disgusted you the most.

"You hear that dear! One of them is half near empty! Let's head on at once!”

Rosie finally snapped you out of your thoughts, you then just nodded as if you were present in the moment this entire time.

Rosie put a hand behind your back to guide you to the back of one of the delivery carriages and as one man held the doors open for the two of you, you both went in and sat down on the neat little benches on the inside and you couldn't help but to acknowledge the several boxes of nails and other unmentionables that you assumed was meant for the hotel and the people working on it.

Eventually after the doors closed you managed to get light by the large window that brightened up the darkness in your new much smaller environment.

“You know ______ darling, you remind me of someone I know.”

Rosie’s sudden voices spooked you quite a bit, it was a bit out of nowhere as it interrupted the awkward silence between the two of you.

“I.. do?”

She nods as her hands rested on the handle of her closed umbrella, sitting in a most elegant way.

Thank goodness she was versatile, considering the circumstances.

“You remind me of a certain friend I’m going to see when we reach the hotel, you see he’s a very powerful fellow. Charming and helpful but.. what interests me more is how alike you both look..”

It’s starting to click slightly once she said ‘he’.. god you just hoped she wasn’t referring to Alastor -- even though you knew how likely it is that she was.

"Oh? Really?.. " acting oblivious I see, but before you could properly respond to her the sound of a whip could be heard with the loud neighs of a horse following right after, making the carriage start moving.

The ride wasn't too bad, a bit traumatizing sure and you really got a good experience of hell.. more or so decent.

In the middle of your ride you seemed to have passed by a rival gang having a shootout considering the two flying bullets that punctured your vehicle which most definitely tensed you up, yet you tried to relax seeing Rosie's opposite reaction.

Then you heard many yowls and screams of ache and pain, all with their own sounds of bodies falling or the sound of wet and squishiness following the disgusting act of puncturing with some sort of weapon you couldn't even imagine can be heard despite passing by the sounds quickly.

The live murders made you feel queasy in ways that made you almost want to throw up but knew you had to keep your head up high.

God, knowing you can't see anything but still hear everything is absolute torture for your wild imagination.

"Miss Rosie, does this--" a loud boom from afar interrupted you, making you almost shrivel up "--does this.. amount of chaos truly...happen everyday?.. I know it’s.. hell but-- isn't there at least one day where this isn't happening?.."

"Oh it never stops darling. It's hell and it will keep going this way until the end of time. I do apologize though.. seems as if your pure little head isn't used to this kind of environment." Duh. "Oh but then that means you'll surely get along with the princess, if anything she seems to be more fit to be an angel."

You simply huffed as your hands trembled on your lap.

This place was downright unpredictable, and you truly hope you would be able to leave this place right after the war.

You miss home already.

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

Finally arriving at the Hazbin Hotel was a real treat.

Not really actually-- pfft.

At least not when you had to be around even more cannibals..

Now you knew why the town seemed a little.. empty. The rest were all here.

Charming of them to be helping out but thanks to 'Susan' you didn't want to interact with any of them.

Walking out of your carriage you felt your heart up in your throat and slowly start to beat at a violent pace. Your anxiety was rising.

Rosie lead you to the front of the hotel doors, seemingly dusting herself off fixing her hair and hat before her hand turned into a fit to knock at the door.

You did the same thing she did, except in a more nervous and trembly way. Alastor was in here.. you were sure of it. You could feel it in your bones and your veins wanting to pop blood from out your ears and nose was seemingly close to happening with how hard the beating of your pulse got once Rosie finally did what you were dreading slightly.

knock, knock.. knock.

'okay _____ stay calm. you knew this was going to be bad, but you're here now.. just breathe, breathe...' you followed your own advice and took an inhale but as you let your shaky exhale out the door was slowly opening.

your eyes were staring dead at the head of the door.

was it Charlie? Vaggie? Alastor?--

"Hello there, just came to deliver someone who was looking for the Hotel. Oh and I came to check up on my cannibals and on Alastor."

Rosie all but confirmed it.

She knew Alastor.

For some reason, your heart sank, not just because she knew Alastor very well apparently but because this feels like a sort of strange betrayal.

You really wished she would've told you.. but if she did you would've freaked out even more-- and maybe she could tell?.. wait-- how would she even know your connection to him anyway??.. looking like a fawn couldn't just straight up tell her..

Yet when you finally looked up at the now open door it was actually none of those three that you knew of.

It was a.. cat? A grumpy lookin' one.

He looked at you and up at Rosie, her arm proceeding to go behind your back to push you gently up closer to the door as if to tell the cat to let you in. His eyes widened at the look at you and your physical attributes.. your wings and halo catching his eye but your fawn like appearance only enhancing the tension in his face a lot more.

He eventually let out a husky sigh with the expression on his face relaxing, his voice being very low and his years were audible in his vocal chords he then turned behind him to loudly announce one single thing from afar:

"You've got company."

He turned back at the two of you and opened the door for you to go through, Rosie guiding you in first.

"He's inside talking to the princess, just walk ahead, take a right and you'll see him." He spoke straight forwardly and serious, it made you feel a little unwelcome. Yet as you walked in you couldn't help but feel those eyes of his stick to you like glue.. you couldn't really blame him-- you were sure they don't see an angel everyday the way you are with hell's environments.

The clicking of Rosie's shoes and the gentle pitter patter of your own gave you goosebumps up your arms, and the more you walked and the closer you heard certain voices the more your spine crawled.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four steps...

You could barley hear anything but the thumping of your own heart.

The small area of the hotel seemed to have been a sort of living room, sets of chairs and sofas surrounding a television box that seemed to be from one of the more later years after your time.

A calm Alastor and a stressed out Charlie were seated on the two different sofa while facing each other with papers and maps scattered around the table in the middle. Rosie lead you further to have you be in the view of the both of them.. you could've sworn her smile stretched as she did so

"Well if it isn't our beloved Rosie! What a warming surprise!--" Alastor's voice cheered until the end, where a sharp radio static interrupted his sentence and irritated those ears of yours.

"Rosie!" Charlie stood up from her seat in a polite yet frazzled state "Thank you so much for visiting!.. and I-- oh.."

The silence was deafening. You waved awkwardly as you avoided eye contact with your father and faced Charlie herself, her eyes basically ready to budge out and her jaws hanging slightly.

"Just came to visit and bring a little gift! I found this little bird during my stroll around my cannibal town and she seems to need your assistance! Isn't that right ______ darling?"

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more. You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class..

'oh dear.. "

—--------------------------------------------

It was yet another cold and dark night in the beautiful New Orleans, faint night music can be heard even in the dead of night from the nearby clubs. A fresh and gentle night,

Ah but.. Alastor wasn’t exactly getting his hours of much needed sleep, for he had been rudely awakened by the cries of a baby.

Yes, you were around ten months old at this time and Alastor was yet to get used to this. There wasn’t a day that passed by where he didn’t think of dropping you at an orphanage. But then again.. It wasn’t that hard to get you to stop crying so those heinous thoughts left very quickly. Except for this day, he was getting challenged by a ten month old you.

“Shh shh shh.. goodness _____ please just go to sleep..” he mumbled, definitely frustrated. Despite his pleas, you just kept on crying and crying while resting over his shoulder. He fed you, patted your back, rocked you to sleep.. nothing worked– unfortunately Alastor wasn’t thinking of one of the most obvious solutions to this situation since the poor guy was too tired to truly think properly.

He kept gently patting your back, shushing you and cooing softly in hopes to tire you out. Your small yet mighty cries continued to rage against his ear..

god he had no idea what to do.

That was when he held you, his hands under your arms as he had you held in front of his face. His glasses were sloppily slapped above his nose, eye bags under his eyes, and a small smile was threatening to turn into a huge frown.

“Little lady.. I don’t appreciate you keeping me up longer than usual tonight, what in the world could you want?” Alastor asked you despite knowing you couldnt understand let alone talk to him back. You simply looked at him with big innocent eyes filled with tears, your baby face stained with dry and wet tear stains and your mouth nibbling on your hand on the verge of crying all over again. Alastor couldn’t help but to look at you almost blankly, he just wanted to sleep.

Gahh but then your eyes started watering again, your little bottom lip curled up over your top one as it quivered and looked at him with these little pained eyes as if he just told you the worst thing ever.

“Oh don’t look at me like that..” he mumbled.. Dreading the feeling you gave him when you cried– it felt like your cries were hurting him, it pained him hearing you cry so hard.

He wasn’t exactly fond of feeling this.

Your loud crying resumed once again, Alastor let out a huge sigh.

“Oh fine- I apologize.. There, better now?” you cried harder, clearly.. no.

He groaned as he then rested you on his chest, your face over his shoulder once again. If your crying wasn’t going to stop he might as well listen to a song to calm his agitation. And so he did, he headed to the living room to then turn on the phonograph. With the device already having a disc in it he simply had to turn it on so it could play where it left off and the second it released the sound of bliss he let out a sigh of relief, that at least despite the crying he could at least go through this as calmly as possible.

The music wasn’t exactly loud, very faint in fact yet he could still hear it a little bit over your crying. He hummed to the tune of the song as he simply patted your back gently and waited for your cries to disintegrate.

This was one of his favorite songs as they were from a musician that is recently becoming incredibly famous in the music industry and Alastor was fascinated by their use of melody and sound.

Melodies that reminded him of the days of his mother when she was still gracing the earth, a real saint that woman was.

Sometimes he talks to her through a photo of her on the wall, asking her questions she’ll never answer, seeking advice and wisdom that he won’t ever be able to hear again.

If only her sickness didn’t overtake her as fast as it did, maybe she would know what to say to motivate him more in this moment of struggle.

He thought and thought and thought as if his head would burst if he didn't.. wondering how she would help him in raising you. What she would say, her suggestions, recommendations.. what would she do in a situation like this.

He knew he had to stay calm and stay in control, he had to keep smiling for that’s what his mother always did no matter what came her way.

She handled it with grace, poise, and with a smile.

It took him around an hour of overthinking about his mothers death, you, his future, his job, and his.. pff.. fascinations.. the lack of sleep seriously taking a toll on him as his want was slowly getting tired of patting you.

But most of all he was thinking about you. His future included yours.

How kind.. despite being so heartless.

Oh.. the song ended and all that was left was the soft static from the machine, blissful silence was all that was heard.

Wait..

Silence?

He looked over his shoulder to look at you, your little baby cheeks squished against him, your eyes closed and your breathing steady..

Finally! You're asleep.

Another sigh of relief released from his lips, continuing to loudly hum the same song that was playing earlier as he slowly walked out of the living room towards his room, now stopping at your crib.

He continued humming as one of his hands held the back of your head and the other held your back, gently placing you in the crib while humming the tune he kept you close while he set you down so you wouldn’t suddenly burst in crying again.

Once he gently managed to place you down with no fuss.. He was darn ready to sleep.

Oh but he took a moment to look at you, leaning against the railings of your ‘bed’ made specifically for you.

Your little baby fat and your squishy cheeks that made your little face even cuter– once again, he was never fond of kids let alone babies but hell if only you didn’t look at him the way you did on that rainy day he found you.. Giggling and smiling even when you didn’t have a single clue of what your situation was as a month old baby.

“You are definitely a handful.. If you kept crying I might have left you in an orphanage by now.” he whispered and joked to himself– no matter the cruel jokes he makes he’ll always find laughter in moments or scenarios of despair.

He’s too far gone now though, he’s bought all your necessities and his home basically screams of a baby’s presence, so even if he truly wanted to do that he knew it’s too late to turn back and you're stuck to him forever.. Well however long ‘forever’ is.

"Domestic life was never quite my style.. still isn't, but I can simply make a few exceptions."

“Well now.. sweetest of dreams, little dove.” he mumbled quietly before finally heading to his own bed himself.

Alastor finally settling in and finally getting comfortable and very slowly falling asleep himself.. glasses back on his nightstand and the noise around him becoming fainter and his mind seemed to finally start powering off for the night.

Finally.. time to sleep.. there's much work to do tomorrow.

Until he heard shuffling from the crib.

‘Oh god.’

(thank you so much for reading part 5 of my angel baby! the stakes are gonna get real high between the reader and Alastor! hope everything goes well for the two when one of them starts interacting!(alastor lmao) hope to see you all in part 6 if you are willing to stick around! Im really only planning to finish this series until the very end or until you guys stop wanting it but nonetheless I hope we reach the end of this story soon!!)

[changes]

Friday, May 12th, 2023

🌟 New

We’ve added some new blog badges for purchase in TumblrMart: “Goncharov Enthusiast”, “Commissions Open”, and “Coppy”. Go check ’em out! Today, you can only have one of these badge types visible on your blog in a stack, but stay tuned for updates on this.

The notes count on posts has gotten a little design refresh to make it clearer that it’s tappable/clickable.

We’ve added a new search index for URLs used in posts, so you can search for a specific URL on Tumblr and look through posts which link to that URL.

Our public API docs have been updated with info on how to mute push notifications and activity about a post, more to come in the actual Tumblr interface for this!

🛠 Fixed

Fixed an issue with the post form on web where the 140-character limit on tags was being treated as exclusive, only allowing tags up to 139 characters. The full 140 characters are now allowed, as intended.

Fixed an issue that could cause a thumbnail with mature content to appear in blog activity when someone used a GIF of yours in a post containing mature content. The thumbnail is now hidden.

When using the API to get the list of notes on a post, the blog’s “avatar_url” object is now included, like for other similar API endpoints.

We fixed a bug on web that was sometimes preventing the quick reblog/queue action for just the first post on your Following feed.

🚧 Ongoing

We’re aware that the Android app still has some issues entering 140-character tags, we’re working to fix that as well. Currently, you need to press “done” to enter a 140-character tag.

🌱 Upcoming

We’re working to update the Theme Garden to highlight themes that are “NPF Compatible”, meaning they’re set up to make posts from all of our editors look how they’re meant to look. You can read more about what we mean by this here.

Experiencing an issue? File a Support Request and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can!

Want to share your feedback about something? Check out our Work in Progress blog and start a discussion with the community.

[rosewaterandivy]

Everyone But You - a Life as We Know It au

Ch. 2 - I've Got That Lefty Curse

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Summary: hey, you know what a funeral is decidedly not for? gettin' your dick wet. | OR eddie munson's no good, very bad lay. Pairing: e.m. x f!oc w.c.: 4.9K warnings: NSFW / MDNI, immersive second person narration w/ a name and background but no physical description mentioned, grief, character death, funeral, jason carver mention, badly repressed emotions, poor emotional regulation skills, bathroom antics inspired by the moves of Paris Geller and that one scene from Catch & Release tagging: @powderblueblood for coming up with Eddie's nickname for the rover 😘

The garage door trundles open as Eddie twirls the keys in a flourish. You squint behind your sunglasses, bringing your phone closer to avoid the sun’s glare as you triple-check the directions to CPS.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” Eddie grouses as the car comes into view. It’s big, some kind of SUV, a Range Rover apparently, if his grumbling is to go by, one that is impeccably clean.

“What’s the problem?” You walk toward the car as it chirps to unlock, “Keys,” You point to his outstretched hand, “Driver,” You point to him and finally gesture to the car, “Vehicle.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Right, sure. Lemme drive this car that’s worth more than my life, that’ll go real swell!” He choruses in false cheer before his face falls, “Yeah, no. Think fast,” He lobs the keys toward you which you step to avoid, and the pair of you watch as they rattle to the floor.

“Well shit, Sherlock, y’know you’re supposed to catch things as they’re thrown at you.”

You roll your lips between your teeth and raise a brow, “I don’t drive.”

“Riiiight,” Eddie says, scooping down to collect the keys. “Of course you don’t, your majesty. Wouldn’t want to sully ourselves with something so pedestrian.” He yanks the driver’s side door open and hauls himself inside.

Settled in the passenger seat, you buckle your seatbelt and pair your phone to the bluetooth in the car. Eddie adjusts the seat and mirror before deciding on a Sirius station for the fifteen minute journey to downtown.

“For the record,” He says, pulling out onto the residential street, “I have a driver’s license, not a boating one. This thing is a goddamn behemoth.”

The car lurches forward as he navigates toward the stop sign at the end of the block, the seatbelt seizes against your chest, jerking you backward into the seat.

“Munson, sort your shit out! There’s going to be an actual baby whose well-being we’re responsible for in here, you know.”

He kisses his teeth and huffs in exasperation, “Sorryyy, I can’t figure out the damn clutch on the S.S. Fuck The Planet, princess. Jesus H. Christ.” 

You make a mental note to have the insurance policy switched over and update the title on the cars as well. Swiping over to the notes app, you tap out a reminder and add a trip to the grocery store for good measure. The list is titled: HOW TO SURVIVE IN HAWKINS and has such gems as: whole foods - where?, research moving co.’s NYC, check out brownstone, contact attorney & set up will, utilities & electric??, and baby books!!!

While you prepped for the impending arrival of Zoë and a prolonged stay in the Midwest, Eddie prattled through the house like Jacob Marley’s ghost shuffling from one vacant room to the next. He’d sent something off to his agent and editor via email about pushing the deadline back for his current novel, and had thrown his duffle in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs, the one furthest from Chrissy and Jason’s room, naturally.

You’d settled in a room close to the nursery and across the way from Eddie. The guest bath was conveniently at the end of the hall just before the staircase. Neither of you bothered unpacking after Max left, just threw your bags upstairs and scrambled to the garage to pick up Zoë as soon as possible.

The ride smooths out, eventually, Eddie seeming to get a hang of the clutch or whatever it was, and soon enough you’re being escorted back to the caseworker’s office at CPS. 

She instructs you to sign the form with your intention of temporary custody just until the court can set a date with the judge to award full custody. Until that time, a caseworker would be checking up on Zoë and your care of her, the findings of which would be presented to the judge at a later date.

“And if you’ll sign here as well, Mr. Munson.” 

Eddie scribbles off his disaster of a signature just as Zoe is brought in.

“Oh,” You sigh, relieved as you rise from the chair. “There she is.” You adjust the strap of your tote on your shoulder and leave the room, gently taking her from a woman with a nod of thanks. Keeping your voice soft and low, you greet Zoë. “Hi, sweetheart. Hi sweet girl!”

It’s rare that Eddie ever hears you like this, voice pitched just so as not to hint at any sadness you may be grappling with currently. And Zoë, she looks so pink and cute— footsie pajamas decorated in little hearts. 

“Oh, honey. It’s so good to see you.” You brush back her downy blonde hair just as she begins to fuss, blue eyes falling to Eddie, who is rendered speechless in the office. He sniffs to clear any welling tears and quietly thanks the caseworker before joining you in the waiting room.

“I know, I know,” You soothe, rocking her back and forth, watching as Eddie steps beside you. 

Zoë continues her soft cries, not nearing meltdown territory yet, but rather expressing her confusion or discomfort. Eddie’s hand cards through her wisps of blonde hair as you turn and say, “Hey, look. Hey, look – it’s Uncle Eddie!” Which seems to placate her somewhat, as chubby arm reaches toward him.

Lifting her from your hip, you continue to narrate: “Wanna go see him? Good, he’s right here.” And place her squarely against his chest, his hands coming to grip her sides as she tucks herself against him, little fingers gripping the worn fabric of his shirt.

You watch as he holds his goddaughter, her soft cries falling away to nothing as she nuzzles into his neck. “Okay,” You breathe, “We should really get her home.”

The car seat, however, proves difficult. Eddie has grimaced and groused his way through various belt to lock combinations, determining all of them to be useless.

“Who designed this thing, a fuckin’ Space X engineer?”

Leaning against the car with Zoë, you decide fifteen minutes is more than enough time for Eddie to dick around with the car seat. “Shove over Elon, this is getting ridiculous.” 

Seamlessly, you set Zoë in the car seat and buckle her in. “See?” You ask, a taunting lilt to your voice, “Was that so difficult?”

“Well, that’s because I eliminated all other possibilities, so obviously you—”

“Shut it, Munson. And drive.”

You’re nearly back to Loch Nora when a cop lights up behind the rover. “Really, today? C’mon man!” Eddie pulls off to the side of the road, going for his wallet before stopping short. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit? What do you mean oh shit?!” You whisper frantically, “This isn’t really on ‘oh shit’ type of moment, if you hadn’t noticed!”

“God, would you shut up for, like, two seconds so I can think?!”

“Please, let’s not pretend you think.”

An intentional elbow jabs into his ribs with enough force for him to hiss. He’s about to snarl something not fit for tiny ears back at you when two raps on the window shocks you both into silence.

Eddie reluctantly rolls down the window with a pained smile. 

“Morning officer, what seems to be the problem?”

There’s a pause before a bellowing laugh. “Munson!? Well, of all the gin joints in all the world—”

Eddie’s face flushes pink, “Uh, right. Hi there, Hop.” He clears his throat, “How are… things.”

“Bout to ask you the same thing, kid.” He pockets his aviator glasses and leans against the door, propping one arm to rest on the roof. “D’you know you rolled through that light down on Main before turning onto Pinebow?”

“Uh, no. Sorry, must’ve been distracted.”

“I’ll say,” The officer peers into the car, gaze falling on you. “Morning ma’am. Mind getting me the registration from the glove box?”

“I, uh,” You supply, uselessly. Eddie leans over to do it himself before you can ask what a registration would even look like. Your eyes dart back to Zoë still sleeping soundly. 

“I need to level with you Hop,” Eddie says, handing the paper over to him. “This is not my car, this is not my beautiful wife, and my license is expired.”

“It is!?” You ask, furious. How could he be so irresponsible? There is a child riding in the backseat! Before you can rip him a new asshole, the officer chuckles.

“Can’t say I’m surprised Ed. Shame about the wife bit though.” He reads the registration and passes it back to Eddie. “But considering the circumstances … I’ll let this one slide.”

“The circumstances?” You prompt, wondering how the hell a traffic cop would know about Chrissy and Jason’s accident.

“My condolences,” He says with a frown and furrowed brow, as if the very idea of their absence unsettles him. “It’s a small town, I’m sure everyone’ll know by day’s end.”

Hop puts his glasses back on and steps back from the vehicle. He nods to you with a small smile, before his eyes narrow on Eddie. “You need to get this taken care of, Munson.” Slapping the roof of the car, he turns on his heel and walks back to the cruiser, “See you Friday!”

Eddie waves him off and pulls back onto the road. Offering positively zero explanations as to why this man you’d never met before today would be showing up to the house later this week.

“Munson, why does that cop think he's coming by the house later?”

“Hmm, oh, Hop? He’s not just a cop, he’s the Sheriff.” 

As if that made it any better.

“Do I want to know why you’re friendly with the boys in blue, er, khaki? Thought you were the commander and chief of ACAB.”

“That,” He says, punching the button to open the garage as the house comes back into view, “Is a story for another time. But for now, just chalk it up to the fact that Hawkins is a verrrry small town, princess.”

By Friday, your bags still remain unpacked by the door to the guest room. It would be so easy to call a car, book a flight and just leave, like it had never happened in the first place.

You’re pretty sure that’s what Munson is expecting you to do. He doesn’t trust you, nor you him. How can you? It’s not like you were ever friends. And it’s not like you’ve seen him in that way since—

A soft knock from the door has you turning to find him holding Zoë in the crook of his arm. She’s smiling and sleepy, fresh from her bath. One that had left you positively drenched, prompting a hasty retreat to find a change of clothes.

“They’re, uh, driving up now.” Eddie mumbles, and though he hasn’t said it, hasn’t complained one bit, you can see how exhausted he is. Essentially dead on your feet from your first night with Zoë. 

She’d cried and wailed all night, or so it felt, and you were sure you’d wake up to a noise complaint or violation of the HOA’s quiet hours or some such shit. Eddie had volunteered to stay with her that night, elected to sleep on the couch in the nursery because he’s “slept on worse.”

He’s said it as if he didn’t already have dark circles under his eyes, as if they hadn’t been awake for over 24 hours, and you want to refute it, to say you can keep the baby monitor on you instead, but the look in Eddie’s eyes tells you this isn’t just about staying the night with Zoë. 

It’s that he wants to make sure Chrissy’s daughter is safe, to protect her daughter in the way he wasn’t able to protect his best friend last night.

“Could you just sleep in—” You tilt your head toward Chrissy and Jason’s room, it’s closer to the nursery anyway. But you don’t get to finish your thought before he’s swept in to the room and settled Zoë in her crib for the night. The conversation effectively over.

“Right,” You say, peeling off the door frame to leave, “Forget I asked.”

But that was last night, and you’d be remiss to say that you’d made it much longer on your own. The room was far too quiet, the sheets too stiff, and you couldn’t find your sound machine to save your life.

It’s two o’clock when you stumble into the nursery, nearly tripping over Eddie’s prone leg because he’s too tall for the small couch, but he doesn’t wake. You make yourself comfortable on the plush white rug, the one Chrissy had sworn felt like a cloud and rest your head on the pillow you’d snuck in from the guest room.

Maybe it’s the white noise machine looped to Zoë’s crib, or maybe it’s the proximity of being close to her that brings a sense of calm that’s enough to lull you into sleep. And maybe, it’s the soft snores and snuffles that fall from the tangle of limbs precariously close to slipping off of the couch.

Regardless, you and Eddie had somewhat survived your first day as guardians. Had struggled through feedings and diaper changes, nap time, and seemingly endless loads of laundry. You’d read Chrissy’s parenting books and ordered more to be delivered tomorrow. Eddie had returned victorious from a Target run and you’d each set about slapping sticky notes and scribbling furiously on a huge tear away calendar— you’d even assigned colors: you were purple, Eddie was neon green, Zoë was pink, naturally.

Max, Eddie’s friend and the estate attorney, had apparently rallied the troops for a family dinner for that evening. You and Eddie were to do nothing, under strict instructions from someone named Nancy to relax and focus on Zoë. You could hear the front door opening as people made their way inside for dinner. 

Gently, Eddie passes Zoë off to you and helps you wrap the sling around your torso. After watching several tutorials on YouTube, you felt confident that everyone would feel more comfortable this way. Plus, your arms were killing you— who knew carrying a baby around could be so tiring?

Once downstairs, introductions are made. Eddie names off everyone in attendance as they stare at you like a new exhibit at the MoMa, or maybe the zoo is more accurate. Immediately, you can see that you don’t belong. Everyone is dressed down casually in jeans and t-shirts, their shoes kicked off by the door.

Whereas you, on the other hand, announce your presence with the click-clack of your heels on the floorboards. Swan into rooms with impeccable posture and sport dresses never more than a season old, unless they’re archival vintage, of course. A bold lip and manicured nails, not a hair out of place.

To the assembled people of Hawkins, you sure cut the figure of a Stepford wife.

“Hi,” A voice pipes up from the man to your right, “I’m Ste—”

A metallic clang sounds out, muffling whatever he had to say. Quickly followed by an exasperated, “Oh, goddamit!”

You smile at him, “The pleasure is all mine. Dean, you said it was?” 

“I, uh,” He stammers out, unable to land his gaze anywhere on your person.

“Right,” You say primly, hearing more cursing from the kitchen, “If you’ll excuse me.”

And, of course, the source of the cacophony is none other than Munson himself. He’s got the hood fan going on the stovetop, and there’s smoke pluming from the oven. Company has been here all of ten minutes and he’s already going to burn the house down.

You grab the sheet pan he’s using to dissipate the smoke from the alarms on the ceiling and narrowly avoid smacking him upside the head.

“I never took you for an arsonist, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.”

He coughs into his shoulder, his hand waving through the air uselessly. But before you can tell him to shove over and let you handle things, people stream into the kitchen. Eddie is shuffled from the stove by a kind woman named Joyce, only to be pulled away by an older man, his uncle Wayne, while Hopper takes over in the kitchen.

Windows are opened by Max and Lucas, allowing the smoke to dissipate. And eventually, Joyce offers to take Zoë and put her to bed after her dinner of mashed peas and carrots. Begrudgingly you let her, dropping a kiss to her downy blonde curls before she’s whisked away.

Dinner is nice as is the company, even if conversation is a bit stilted and awkward given the circumstances. You don’t say much and no one expects you to, but every so often Wayne will catch you gaze and offer a small smile. It’s easy to appreciate his silence, to see it as a comfort because god knows his nephew is normally anything but.

You’re on your second glass of wine for the evening, listening to Robin as she details the various hijinks of what she refers to as the Scoops Troop. But she keeps mentioning someone named Steve and you have half a mind to ask her who that could possibly be. Dean, for all his lack of being mentioned in these stories, laughs along good-naturedly.

It’s when you yawn for the second time in five minutes, that Eddie suggests: “Hey, you should go up and get some sleep.”

You scowl, confused and pleasantly buzzed but stand up all the same. “Fine, but no promises, Munson.”

It had been decided that you’d give the eulogy for the service today. Eddie sits with Zoë in his lap – she's dozing off and you’re thankful – and when Eddie stares up at you, you can feel your heart in your throat. Initially, it seemed that Eddie would deliver the eulogy, this was, after all, his hometown and this church was full of people he’d known most of his life.

But when he’d come to you two nights ago after Zoë had finally fallen asleep, shaking like a leaf with crescent hollows beneath his eyes that the moon would envy, and he’d said in a voice so broken and empty: “I just can’t do it. Please don’t make me.”

And so you didn’t.

Halfway through, while the crowd is chuckling sadly, politely, at your anecdotes about Chrissy and Jason. Things are going well until Zoë begins to hiccup and throws a tantrum. Ellie, Chrissy’s mom, scoops her up into her arms easily and carries her out of the church. Over her shoulder, Zoë’s arms stretch out toward the front of the church, her face crumpled as she cries for her mommy and daddy.

Me too baby girl, me too.

You force yourself to look back at Eddie, and his eyes meet yours. It's a moment of understanding that goes straight to your gut and steals the breath from your lungs; Chrissy wasn’t ever coming back.

The wake is held at the house, a tasteful catered affair courtesy of Jason’s parents. Everyone thought it best for Zoë to be in a familiar setting to try and stick to her routine. People mill about downstairs stopping every so often to shake your hand and offer their condolences, thoughts and prayers, or claim that their hearts are with you during this difficult time.

It’s all you can do not to scream as you hold Zoë like a life raft. So, instead of snapping something at someone’s handsy uncle who has had you cornered for the last five minutes or so, you talk to Chrissy in your head.

What were you thinking Chris? This wasn’t the plan at all, in fact, you’ve jumped the gun by about sixty-odd years y’know. If you care to recall, we said we’d outlive our husbands and buy a place on the Cape. Descend into spinsterhood in style, and then haunt the shit out of that property, as is our right.

Ellie checks in on you with a soft touch to the arm, ushering pervy uncle toward the hors d’oeuvres. Small miracles. You can feel the tears gathering on your lashes, and you know that your tolerance for these platitudes is quickly dwindling. You haven’t seen Eddie since he fed and changed Zoë an hour or so ago.

He’s been distant since that night, the one where you’d refused him and drawn your line in the sand.

Catching sight of Robin, you tell her that Zoë is going for her nap and she promises to make your excuses. She latches on to that guy she seems permanently attached to, (Dean, you wanna say?) and they begin to spread the word in an attempt to clear everyone out.

You take the stairs slowly, not wanting to shift the dozing girl in your arms too much, as you step onto the second floor landing. Turning into the nursery, you set her down on the changing table and rid her of her funeral dress.

No little girl should ever have one, much less be given the opportunity to wear it.

Back in her comfy pjs, you sit on the rocking chair and kick off your heels. Zoë nuzzles against your neck as you hum softly. Sooner than you’d anticipated, the rhythmic rocking to and fro has eased her into sleep. Rising as gently as you’re able, you lay her down in the crib, turn on her sound machine, and step out of the room with baby monitor in hand.

Downstairs, you can hear rumblings of conversation overridden by a male voice: “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!” 

Chuckling, you duck into the guest bathroom before any of the hangers on can spot you as they take their leave. Back hitting the door, you allow yourself a moment or two to breathe. Surrounded by people all day on what has arguably been the worst day of your life to date. Smoothing down the skirt of your dress, you pull the shower curtain aside and step into the basin of the bathtub. Once settled, you draw the curtain closed again and let your head rest against the tile wall.

“Why did you leave me alone like this, Chrissy?” You say, voice ricocheting off the bathroom tiles. “You know I can’t handle anything without you.”

Not two minutes later, and someone comes barreling in. Huh, guess you never did lock that door. 

Before you can alert them of your presence, a high-pitched giggle sounds out followed by the scuffling of feet. The door is shut, and the lock is thrown as the giggle turns into a high, breathy gasp. They sound closer now, if the wet sounds of tongues battling for dominance is anything to go by.

Rearing back, you sink into the corner of the tub and will it all to go away. The noxious, ringing laughter continues unabated only punctuated by the sounds of a belt buckle clinking against the sink, a zipper being pulled down.

If you were so inclined (which you are decidedly not), you could simply turn your head to the left and feast your eyes on the shadow sexual escapades of one—

“Oh, Eddie.”

For fuck’s sake! As if this day could get any worse.

But, oh wait, it does.

“Sock it to me!” 

Biting the heel of your hand to quell the rising laughter, your eyes blow wide at her litany of ‘sock it to me’s’ – it’s as if that’s the only thing her poorly wired brain will allow her to say mid-coitus. Eddie’s laughter, understandable given the circumstances, devolves into an attempt to shush his conquest from what has got to be the most unimaginative dirty talk you’ve had the misfortune to be privy to.

When she finally reaches her peak (“Yeah! That’s so good!”), you’ve already mentally catalogued the ways in which you could have a) killed yourself in the interim, b) killed Eddie, and c) killed this poor woman, in all likelihood saving her from a life of mediocre sex at funerals.

“Thanks.”

Well, at least she’s polite.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Eddie sounds embarrassed, voice tight and you can imagine he’s doing that thing where he drums his fingers against his thigh, impatiently waiting for this all to be over. His lips are probably tucked between his teeth while she washes her hands, eyes anywhere but on her.

There’s the sound of the door being unlocked and the throw away line of “Call me,” and with that, she’s gone.

The sink runs again, Eddie muttering to himself under his breath, and for the briefest of seconds when you dramatically pull the shower curtain open, you could’ve sworn you saw something akin to regret (or was it disgust?) as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Fuck!” 

He jumps back, startled at your Houdini-esque appearance. All too calmly, you step out from the bathtub, gaze fixed on him all the while. You pluck the joint from his fingers and stow it in your pocket. 

And you haven’t launched into him yet, so maybe this isn’t the verbal crucifixion that Eddie thinks it’ll be. There’s a curl to his lips that says he’s going to be a problem, that he’s going to make a joke out of this, as if he hadn’t buried his best friend earlier today and then gone and screwed a cater waiter in the bathroom of her house during the wake.

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my Lady Disdain,” He drawls, arms loosely crossed against his chest, “Are you yet living?”

It is only in deference to Zoë that you don’t go scorched earth on his ass right then and there. There’s a soft squawk from your other pocket where the baby monitor is as she likely rolls over in her sleep.

“I am only going to say this once, Munson, so you better get it through that abomination you call a skull.”

Briefly, someone attempts to enter the bathroom, the door nudging open only to be forcefully shut as you, in an impressive feat of balance, slam one Manolo Blahnik clad heel against the door and shove it closed.

“Occupied!”

You wait a beat or two, leg slotted against the door to be sure that whomever was on the opposite side did not attempt further entry. 

If only your yoga instructor could see you now.

Releasing your hold on the door, you flip the lock and take measured steps back to Eddie who is now crowded back against the pedestal sink.

“Did ya have some fun? Get you rocks off? Add another notch to the bedpost?” You seethe, and he knows better than to interrupt when you’re like this. “What a fitting way to send off Chrissy, huh? By defiling her home because you lack something called self-restraint.”

“Hey, that’s not—”

“What, is that not accurate Munson? Because from where I was sitting, it sounded like you couldn’t wait bust your nut into the next woman who batted her lashes at you, who maybe, juuuust maybe,” You take one step closer, a mere breath away from him. “Suffers form an undiagnosed brain injury and lowers herself to slum it with the likes of you.”

“Tell me how you really feel, sweetheart,” He sneers, “All those years of therapy seem to be doin’ wonders for your self-esteem. Because you’re too high and mighty to count yourself one of the crowd, right?”

“You have no right—”

“I have no right? Are you kidding me? I'm not the one who shuts down at the first opportunity, who would rather run away than stay here and deal with this!"

"It's not like I’ve left! I'm here, aren't I?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know that?" He demands. "We are not just playing house here! And you can’t pretend that we’re not partners in this. If you’re so scared, why didn't you say anything?”

You storm toward the door, unlocking it as you turn the knob to leave. To get away from him and his pitying looks, his judgment.

"Because I don't need you!"

Eddie’s hand covers yours, “Maybe I need you!" He snaps, almost shouting. "Maybe I need you to work with me instead of against me. Maybe I need you to stop doubting yourself, because there's already so much to worry about and I can't help worrying about you. Maybe I need you to stop being so damn independent and self-absorbed. Maybe I need you to realize that you're not the only person here who lost a best friend."

The heartbreak on his face is so painfully clear that you can feel it in your chest; you can't believe you didn't noticed it before.

The door creaks open.

"Hey, are you guys – oh, sorry."

You turn from Eddie to see Robin on the stairs, hesitating. You clear your throat and blink away any tears, as you step through the door. "Can I help you?"

"I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not interrupting," You say, turning toward her and smoothing down your dress.

"Okaaaay." She looks doubtful. "Everyone’s cleared out, leftovers are in the fridge. I checked on Zo and she’s still zonked out."

You nod, “Thanks, for everything.”

“Happy to help.”

You wait until her footsteps fade away, and the front door shuts. Gritting your teeth, you watch as Eddie steps away from you and avoids making eye contact, your jaw clenched tightly enough to hurt.

There's something empty and aching at the base of your throat, and no matter how much you swallow, it won't go away.

[hypersomniagame]

HYPERSOMNIA JANUARY DEV LOG : "LOG 1, WOOHOO!"

Hi! For all of you who follow HYPERSOMNIA, or are just stopping by, let me introduce you to this post to really set the tone.

For 2024, I am going to try to release a dev log about HYPERSOMNIA once a month, may come earlier, may come a little late, but I'm doing this to help give insight on to how the game is going, and to give me motivation to work on the game.

First things first, big news!

HYPERSOMNIA IS NOW AVAILABLE TO WISHLIST ON STEAM! (LINK)

After a while of back and forwarding with Valve, I've finally got a Steam page to call my own, and MAN is it bizarre seeing my weird little RPG in my Steam library. Like, that's my logo, and my key art, and screenshots of MY game, that's so weird. It doesn't feel real. BUT IT IS!

And, I would really really really really really appreciate it if you would consider wishlisting the game on Steam. It helps with the algorithm, and my happiness because I like seeing numbers go up, it feels good.

I even drew this as a announcement/commemoration for the page going live.

(P.S; if you couldn't tell, I really like Half-Life, it's one of my favorite game series.)

Secondly...

A new trailer is in the works! We were accepted for this year's MOTHER Direct (4th time baby, whoo!)

The trailer has been coming along well, I hope to show more battle oriented clips that I've missed the last few years, like special moves.

Can you believe I've never actually gotten to adding those in the game? I mean, they come set-up in default RPG Maker projects but I've never gotten around to revamping them until now, year 4 of engine work. Isn't that strange?

I also hope to improve on editing in the trailers. Whenever I finish a trailer I come back a few months later to notice minor points where I was kinda sloppy.

I'm not much of a video editor, (I only learned so I could edit trailers on my own) but I'd like to keep them at a good presentable quality. You gotta have standards with that kinda stuff, it's important!

OK, TIME FOR THE ACTUAL GAME STUFF. HERE WE GO.

Abilities are now implemented! And work! Wahoo!

In HYPERSOMNIA, players are able to switch abilities between party members. I find this a really interesting mechanic for how simple it seems, you get to choose who plays what role in your party. I think this is HUGE, and opens up a lot of unique scenarios for the game's encounters. I've had this planned for years, as far back as 2021 if I can recall, so it's super cool seeing it in game.

Mapping is being worked on!

I've also been working on mapping out more areas of the game! The forest part you hopefully saw in the last trailer is almost completely mapped. I've been working on the second part to it and am hoping to finish it sometime soon.

Mapping forests really suck. THOUGH, almost all the maps for the first chapter of the game are done! That's just another step closer to the demo. (Which, FYI, will be on Steam and Itch! ^^)

I've also been working on re-spriting older scenes!

This one's been really fun to do, I've been going back and redoing older stuff from the 2022 trailer, like this train! It's weird seeing it side by side, because you can definitely see where it's come from but at the same time, it looks so different.

(Also side note, these sprites are CRUSTY! EWWW!)

Lastly, Script and Music updates!

The script for HYPERSOMNIA's first act has been completed! with just 37 pages of just cutscene dialog alone! We're also currently working on wrapping up NPC dialog! Not much else to say.

And music is being worked on!

Music has been making some progress! I like to lay out demo's for areas I'm mapping out to help make both the music and scene come together. (Also, to help break up the eerie silence when playtesting...)

Speaking of music, FIREBALL, the games main battle theme, was recently delisted on our YouTube channel.

We did this because we decided we wanted to resample FIREBALL, and found that it's best to not have the song uploaded until a complete, final version is made. At least for the demo, it could possibly change before the final game but that's a bit too far in the future for me to think about fully.

Hey! Thanks for reading the whole dev log! Unless you just skipped to the end, you should probably go back up and read it. there's a steam page now. and some cool ross art at the top. you're missing out!

I hope this was like, readable to you all. I'm new to this whole dev log thing, so if you read it all the way through, let me know! It'd be cool!

I'd like to use this portion to pretty much just advertise Unique Indie RPG's.

Have you ever seen that strange purple square at the beginning of the 2nd and 3rd HYPERSOMNIA trailers?

Yeah, that! That's UNIQUE INDIE RPG's, which is a Discord community for you guessed it, Unique Indie RPG videogames developed by people like me! Or you! Or whoever! Who cares!

I help run it with some of my friends, and we all share cool stuff about our videogames! There's a ton of other SUPER cool RPG Maker games there like Astral Guard [LINK], or SOMEWHEN [LINK], or even MOMOinc [LINK]!

And of course, HYPERSOMNIA. It's a really laid back community, we're all super chill. Come swing by! We'd love to have ya, and SHOW US YOUR GAME!

[LINK TO DISCORD SERVER]

TWITTER

YOUTUBE

STEAM

UNIQUE INDIE RPG'S [SHOW US YOUR GAME!]

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[maggiedanikka]

Let Me Go

Pairing: Hangman x f!reader, (eventual) Rooster x f!reader

Warnings: none, very brief mention of sex, Angst, pregnancy

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Reader is married and shares a child with Hangman, Life and circumstance drives reader into Rooster’s arms, but Hangman isn’t giving up that easily

Author’s Note: Hi y’all, I am back from the dead. Truthfully, I haven’t written anything fiction for a freaking long time. I’m a political science major so I have been writing only research papers and journals for the past 3+ years. Please bear with me here, I don’t have an  editor or anything, will probably just make my little sister read it (but she’s the meanest person ik so it would basically be like having an editor). Anyways, I have recently become OBSESSED with Top Gun: Maverick and basically fell in love with the characters and their universe. This idea came to me as I was getting ready for work and I disassociated the entire drive thinking about this specific plot/story. Next thing I knew I was at work with no recollection of driving there lol. But I am deciding if this will continue to be a one-shot or if it should be a little mini series, let me know!

Rooster Playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4tS2I0YnKUSrBOMSUCqLgh?si=6a1898d0be474904

Hangman Playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2z4lAcBPvbCx19NWni8DVS?si=f7da4ba91773424e

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Italics is past

“Mommy! I can’t find my dress!” Your 4 year old daughter screams from her bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you have plenty of dresses, just pick one!”

“Not just any dress! I want the dress with daddy’s planes on it!”

You walk into her room, covered in pink pastel wallpaper with a gigantic pile of dresses greeting you and a missing 4 year old.

“Astrid! Where are you sweetie? Your dad is gonna be home soon and we need to clean this mess up.”

You see your daughter planted face down on the floor of her closet.

“Daddy is gonna hate me forever, if I don’t wear my dress!” She cries with a muffled voice.

You laugh as you shake your head, your daughter may look like you but definitely inherited her father’s flair for the dramatics.

You pick her up and sit on the ground, placing her on your lap.

“What makes you think your dad is gonna hate you if you don’t wear the plane dress?” You ask your daughter as you wipe the tears from her face.

“Because Daddy loves planes! That’s why he goes away all the time, so he could fly in the air! If I wear the plane dress then Daddy will want to stay here with us.” Astrid pouted.

Your heart breaks for your little girl. Jake’s job often took him away for sustained periods of time, often not knowing when or if he’s coming back. You never wanted to stand in the way of his dreams, and the arrangement was fine for a while. You kept busy with your job as an attorney at a large law firm, trying to pay your dues and work up to a partner. Then, on the special occasion that Jake would come home the reunion was always explosive.

What you had with Jake just worked for both of you. You were both deeply passionate and ambitious about your careers and it was comforting to know that you found someone who understood your drive. Most importantly, you loved Jake so intensely. Being with him felt like being on fire. It was the kind of love that had you screaming at each other at the top of your lungs at 3am, cursing his name, only to end with you under him as he fucked you on the nearest surface.

Getting pregnant changed that dynamic. Your mind wanders to when you first found out about your daughter.

The 3 ClearBlue Pregnancy tests sat on your bathroom sink, all adorned with the same terrifying word, “Pregnant”.

Your best friend breaks you out of your lull. “So no doubt, you are definitely pregnant, what are you gonna do?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” You reply. “This is coming at such a bad time, I’m up for an important promotion at work… and then I'm gonna have to go on maternity leave…and I can't drink alcohol or coffee!! I LOVE COFFEE. I can't stop drinking coffee! And then-” My bosses will NEVER Your best friend interrupts your tirade, “Okay (y/n) you need to breathe, stress is bad for the baby.” She says jokingly. You glare at her in response.

“Besides, you’ll have Jake right?”

“Oh shit, Jake. I forgot about that. What am I gonna tell him? This was not at all part of the plan. Kids were not even on the table!”

You suddenly hear the front door open and Jake’s booming voice as he travels up the stairs. “Hey sweets, I’m home!”

“Oh shit I forgot that he was coming back today. Quick! Hide the tests!” You toss the pregnancy tests to your best friend who fails to catch them.

“Eww no, I’m not touching those! You peed on them!”

“Come on work with me here! I don’t want Jake to see them!”

“What’s going on here? What don’t you want me to see?” You freeze as you hear your husband’s voice behind you. Jake looks on the ground to see the three discarded pregnancy tests scattered on the floor. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Are those pregnancy tests?”

“Well this signals my exit, call me later (y/n). Jake, always a pleasure.” Your best friend says as she leaves the room.

Jake looks back and forth between you and the tests on the floor, you stand frozen in front of his gaze. Both of you break out of your daze when you hear the front door close.

“Jake…” You begin to say

“(y/n), please tell me those pregnancy tests aren’t yours.” Jake interrupts.

“Well I can’t because they are…” You reply with a sigh.

“So you’re… we’re pregnant?” Jake asks.

“Yes…” You respond meekly, bracing yourself for an argument and possibly a yell. Instead you were surprised to feel a set of strong arms around you.

“I can’t believe it, Sweets! I’m gonna be a daddy!” Jake smiles into the hug.

“You’re…happy?” You were very, very, confused. “I thought you didn’t want kids?”

“I know we haven’t talked about it, but I want a family with you (y/n). And I know that things are hard because I’m always away and you’re busy kicking ass as a lawyer, but I think we’re ready” Jake admits, giving you a soft smile.

“Jake, I’m scared. What if I’m not a good mother, I’m too career focused and I can’t be the doting wife and mother that you and our future child deserve.”

“Don’t say that (y/n) you are the smartest, most passionate, caring…” “And the hottest woman I know.” Jake adds with a smirk “You have been an amazing partner and I know you'll be an even better mother.”

You smile as you embrace Jake and pull him down for a kiss. “I love you Jake.” You tell him after you pull away. “I love you too Sweets.” He replies “And I promise I will be around more, even if it means saying no to missions. I wanna be able to see our baby Hangman grow up”

Except he didn’t keep that promise. He did take a leave after finding out you were pregnant and was home throughout most of your pregnancy and the birth of your daughter. But when he got called back to Miramar for a special detachment, he couldn’t say no. He came back from the mission still the cocky and self assured man that you loved but something had changed. After not being chosen to fly the mission and left as reserve he felt like he had something to prove. So every mission, every detachment, anything the Navy would give him he’d ship out. He had to prove that he was a better pilot than Rooster. Bradley Bradshaw, of course you knew your husband's rival, but that’s something to think about for later.

This resulted in huge rifts in your marriage. You were passed on for promotions and big cases because you had to miss meetings and retreats to take care of your daughter. Everytime Jake promised you he would come home, a new mission would come up that he couldn’t pass up. He missed out on Astrid’s first steps, her first words, the first day of kindergarten. So when he told you a month ago that he was coming home you honestly did not expect him to actually come.

You were used to Jake not coming home when he said he would, but your daughter whose eyes were full of hope and adoration for Jake still believed his empty promises and you did not want her little heart to be exposed to disappointment just yet. So if Jake bails again, you will actually kill him.

You pull yourself out of your thoughts and reply to your daughter.

“Sweetheart, your daddy loves you too! Not just planes, and you know all he wants to do is spend all of his time with you. Your dad just has a very important job and he does it to keep you safe.” You tuck your daughter’s stray hair out of her face.

“Now no more tears, you don’t want your daddy to see you crying and think you’re not happy to see him right?” You teasingly say to your daughter. Astrid gets up with the renewed energy only a toddler could have.

“No! Of course not mommy!” She screams as she runs back into her bedroom.

You pull yourself off the ground and follow your daughter into the room. You spend the next 20 minutes folding the giant pile of dresses and your very eager daughter putting them back in the closet. This pays off because you eventually find the infamous plane dress. Your toddler breaks out into squeals after seeing that you found her dress.

“THANK YOU THANK YOU!! I'm going to put it on before daddy gets here!!”

You smile to yourself as you watch Astrid run to change.

You walk downstairs to make sure that the rest of the house is in order, while Jake never complains about the mess, you know as a Navy man, cleanliness and order is hardwired into his brain. When you see that the house is to your standard, you sit on the couch, happy for a minute of peace after a busy morning.

After a few minutes you hear keys unlocking the front door signaling Jake’s return. You watch as Jake pulls his pack into the house and takes off his shoes, he stops as he feels your gaze on him. He gives you his signature cocky smile “Sweets!”

You were about to reply but instead was interrupted by the loud boisterous yell of your daughter.

“DADDY!”.

Astrid runs down the stairs and throws herself into her father’s arms.

Jake catches Astrid and spins her around in his arms.

“Well hi there Pixie! Did you miss me?” Jake smiles at your daughter.

Jake had a big sweet tooth, he loved chocolates and candies like he was an 8 year old boy. It was something you noticed when you first started dating, which is why he gave you the nickname “Sweets”. He couldn’t resist a Hershey’s bar when he was on leave and his love for Reese's cups was unmatched. You later found out that his favorite candy (for the life of you, you could figure out why out of all the candies in the world this was his favorite) were pixie stix. He always told you that he avoided candy whenever he was on mission, leaving it as a sweet treat at home after a job well done. But you couldn’t help but sneak a pack of KitKats and of course Pixie Stix whenever he left for deployment, staying true to your nickname.

When Astrid was born, you couldn’t believe how much love he held in his eyes for the little pink bundle, and you knew that she would have him wrapped around her finger forever. He nicknamed her Pixie, after his favorite candy.

“Look at my dress daddy!” Astrid exclaims as Jake places her on the ground. She twirled and ran around the room and you wondered how such a small human can have this much energy.

“Are those F-18s?” Jake asks you. You chuckle while nodding your head. “Where the hell did you find a dress with F-18s made for children?” Jake asks amusingly.

“I think you seem to forget how good I am at online shopping.” You reply with a smile, “and your daughter here INSISTED that she just HAD to have a dress with her daddy’s planes on them.”

Astrid smiles as she hugs her father’s legs. “Well you have a good eye there (y/n)”

“Thanks Jake.” You reply before sitting up from the couch and patting down your work skirt.

“Well I have to head out to work, I have a big case with lots of depositions to go over so I probably won't be home until after 7.” You inform him.

You crouch down to your daughter's level. “You’re gonna spend the day with Daddy. Remember to not let him eat too much candy, and make sure you don’t mess up your room again, okay sweetheart?” Astrid nods in response.

“Why aren’t you spending the day with us mommy? Daddy just came home!” Jake gives you a sad look.

You open your mouth to reply but before you could answer Jake tells your daughter “You know how daddy has to go away for his job sometimes? Well mommy also has an important job defending good guys so she has to go away for a few hours, but she’ll be back in time to tuck you in.”

Astrid looks down in disappointment but nods. “I just want to be with both of you, it’s been a long time since you’ve come home daddy.”

Your heart stings in pain knowing that your daughter didn’t know the rift that is currently between you and her father.

“I promise, after I go to work today, I will spend the rest of the week with you and your dad, okay sweetheart?” Astrid’s pout finally turns into a smile “Okay mommy! And we could all play and watch movies and bake cookies…and-”

You laugh as you pull your daughter into a hug. “Of course! I love you and I will see you later okay baby?”

“OKAY!” Astrid screams as she runs to her room to get her toys to play with. You and Jake watch her run up the stairs and disappear down the hallways.

You start to give Jake instructions

“All her snacks are in the pantry, there’s some chicken nuggets and fries in the freezer, but if she doesn’t want that you can always get her pizza or get a can of chicken noodle soup, she loves soup for some reason..” You stop your monologue when you notice Jake staring at you.

“I missed you Sweets” Jake says softly looking at your face.

You finally stop to look at him, still handsome as ever with his muscles apparent under his white shirt. He looked good, a little sadness in his eyes but you remind yourself that it would be a mistake to ask any questions.

You offer him a small smile as you put on your work pumps.

You open the front door and walk out of the house. You hear him ask a question that stops you in your tracks,

“You’re going to see him aren’t you?”

You feel a heavy weight settle on your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. Gathering just enough strength to look back at him,

“I’ll see you later, Jake.”