#ERROR: REPORT ABOVE

[double-ended]

[fideidefenswhore]

Mary was thrilled at this seemingly perfect reconciliation, and the common people, who had always been fond of her, were pleased at the improvement in her treatment; however, Queen Jane's interest did not extend to the King's other daughter, the two-year-old Elizabeth, who had been banished to the Palace of Hatfield and was out of favour following the execution of her mother.

Crown of Blood: The Deadly Inheritance of Lady Jane Grey, by Nicola Tallis

[burningembers91]

Cabin in the Woods - Hwang Jun-Ho x Fem!Reader

Tagging: @snixx2088 and @bananaminn

Follow up piece to:

Sleeping with the Enemy

The Gangster’s Wife

Escape Plan

Synopsis: You and Jun-Ho are on the run. But with no money, and a warrant out for his arrest, where will you turn?

A/N: the amount of time I spent googling coastal towns in South Korea isn’t even funny. If writing fan fiction is good for anything, it’s been amazing at expanding my knowledge of the language, culture and the cities and town outside of Seoul 😅

Also, I write most of my fics in my notes app on my phone and it’s not until I’ve read and reread each fic, and then published that I noticed the wild errors in my spelling and grammar 🫠

The cabin was freezing, the icy winter air blowing in through the cracks under the door. Hwang Jun-Ho hadn’t dared to light a fire, just in case the smoke could be seen. You’d been hiding out in the old hunting cabin for just over two weeks now, the two of you hunkered under blankets for warmth. You’d been surviving off tinned food and ramen, boiling water from a nearby stream on a camping stove he had in the back of his car.

He’d passed this cabin countless times as a kid when he went on hikes with his father. It had been in a bad state then, and was even worse now. He wasn’t entirely sure what was holding the old building together, the wooden walls groaning at the slightest of breezes.

He was worried about your health, your bruises healing steadily but there were underlying issues you needed checked out. Jun-Ho was sure your ribs were cracked, the whimpers of pain you elicited whenever you moved tugging at his heart.

A warrant for his arrest had been issued by the police three days after he helped you escape. He’d been in a local convenience store when he saw the news report, his face splashed all over the TV, falsely claiming that he’d kidnapped you from your home. His worst fears had been confirmed in that instant; someone in the police was working for your husband.

There was no way he’d be a wanted man if the department was clean, but he’d insulted your husband, had made him look weak by saving you. He had no idea who the dirty cop could be, but he didn’t have time to worry about it now.

Food was running low, and you needed more pain killers. He needed to take you a hospital to get your injuries checked out, but it was too risky so close to the city. Neither of you had your passports, and even if you had, escaping the country wasn’t an option with his arrest warrant and no money. You’d have to lay low, bide your time and figure out an escape plan. Jun-Ho knew he’d need to think of something soon. You couldn’t stay here much longer; he wasn’t sure you’d made it another week.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, gently stroking your cheek as you lay huddled under a blanket.

“I’m ok,” you smiled, your lips cracked and dry from your injuries and the harsh weather. He wasn’t sure how you managed to stay so strong, how you always had a smile for him despite the pain you were in.

“We’re going to need to get moving soon,” he told you, coming to sit with an old map he’d found stuffed in a drawer within the cabin. “Where do you think we should go?”

“Somewhere by the sea,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse with pain. You loved the sea, loved the calmness that came with the sound of the waves. You poured over the map, your bodies pushed together for warmth, as you decided where to begin your life.

The next morning, you headed out just before the sun rose, bundling into Jun-Ho’s car. He’d removed the licence plates last night, knowing they’d be looking for his vehicle. He’d have to find a new one along the way, but with no money and a wanted sign above his head, it wasn’t going to be easy.

You’d settled on a small seaside town of Samcheok. It was far away from Seoul and the perfect place for you to start again. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to stay hidden for, but Jun-Ho would do everything he could to keep you from harms way. He still couldn’t believe this was how your life together was beginning, on the run.

You held his hand tightly as he manoeuvred his car through the back roads, neither of you daring to breathe until you were far away from the city.

The further you got, the easier you found it to breathe, and the lighter your heart felt. Your husband had tried to break you, but he’d failed. He’d pushed you into the arms of a man who loved you more than he ever could.

Despite the fact you had no money, no home, nothing but the clothes on your back, you’d never been happier.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

How about intersex Natasha x fem reader where Natasha is basically on her hands and knees begging to fuck fem reader. Saying things like, "I'll make you feel so good." or "I only need 10 minutes."

High and dry

Paring: fem!reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: SMUT, begging, pet names, nipple play, switch!reader, switch!Nat, P in V, breeding kink, soft sex

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Masterlist-

"Please" I heard Natasha beg "Like I said Tasha I need to finish my mission report first" She signed loudly. She woke up from a perfect dream; she had been thrusting in and out your tight heat and then just as she was about to cum- her alarm went of leaving her high and dry. She awoke with you already up and taking a shower, because of both of your latest mission you had opted for a few days of home office together. You only came home yesterday evening as the both of you decided on cuddles instead of a steamy love making session.  

Now you where standing under the hot stream of the shower head, letting the hot droplets of water run over the soft skin of your delicate body. Only with a towel on you reentered the shared bedroom and Natasha felt like she just got even harder.

"I’ll go write the mission report now alright baby?" You leaned down to kiss her. Of course she noticed the big bulge in her pants with a little wet patch from her pre cum. "I hoped for some morning stretches first bunny?" She pulled you on top of her pelvis, you mewled at feeling the the bulge against your own crotch. 

"Natasha not now" It took an incurable amount of will power not to devour your delicious girlfriend, but finishing the mission report would be much smarter. After all a quickie rarely failed to become hours long of passionate love making between the sheets. She groaned rubbing her temples, you had rarely seen her so needy. 

A few hours later Natasha sneaked around the house like an animal searching for prey. "Natasha what’s the matter?" You already knew the answer to the question, but you wanted to hear her say it. "I need to fuck you, bunny, please" she mewled appearing behind your office chair to kiss your neck. "Natasha soon" you pushed her face away "I need to focus" 

"I’ll make you feel so good" She pushed her face into your neck to inhale your sweet smell. She was getting at you it was hard to say no to her anymore "I’ll only need 10 minutes" she cooed against your skin. You closed your laptop before catching her lips with yours. "Fuck Tasha, do it quick" She couldn’t hide her excitement she wanted to kiss every centimetre of your soft skin. She spun your office chair around to lift you up, your wrapped your legs around your waist as she carried you to to the bedroom. 

"Fuck sweetheart, ‘m gonna fuck this tight pussy so good." She threw you on the bed her hands going to the hem of your shirt pushing it up. She groaned in responds of seeing your stiff nipples. Her mouth latched onto your nipple teasing the hardened nub with her exerted tongue. You mewl at the sensation all the thought of the paper work long having left your clouded mind. 

"Fuck Nat I need you inside" You moaned out pushing her head further down your stomach. "let me ride you sweetheart" Nat nodded before laying down on her back. You helped her undress before pushing her boxers to her mid thigh her large penis standing against her stomach. You grabbed her semi hard lengthen before moving your fist up and down her hardening dick. 

You straddled her pelvis your hole hovering above her hardened dick. Her hands went to your hips guiding you down on her shaft. You let out an almost pornographic moan at her delicious stretch. You stilled for a moment to adjust to her length making Nat lose her mind. Your tight velvet walls hugging her shaft so good. Slowly you started to move you hips up and down and Natasha trusts up her into her tight heat groaning at he feeling.

You grab on the shoulders of your girlfriend before your lips meet hers. Her tongue went inside your mouth fighting your dominance, which after a fair fight she woman. Natasha needed more, more of your tight heat. Before you could say anything she had switched your positions pistoling inside your heat like an animal. 

Her hand went to your puffy clit playing with the bundle of nerves making the pleasure almost unbearable. Your wall pulsate around her cock, she knew how close you were and she felt the same. "Fuck baby can I cum inside please" She whined above you and the idea of her sed in your womb turned you on. "Fuck Natty fill me up" She brought you to your peak before having her peak yourself. You felt her hot cum shooting inside your womb as you cream her dick. 

“Fuck I needed that” Natasha laughed before pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’m sure you got time for another round”

:)

[n0cturnalp1g]

Blood of My Blood

Summary: An argument ends with the death of a lord and a husband enraged. Characters: Daemon Targaryen x Female!Reader!Hightower. Ormund Hightower Word Count: 1,291 Chapter Warnings: Not Edited. Mention of Violence and Death. Hints of Misogyny and Patriarchy (ew!).

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Stupid child.”

You closed your eyes and ignored the words that escaped your Uncle’s lips. It wasn’t your error but of Gwayne’s but you didn’t want him to deal with your Uncle Ormund’s wrath, you could take it better than him, knowing you will be leaving after all was said and done–unlike him.

“The reports you’ve provided weren’t sufficient enough.” You said looking straight at him daring him to say otherwise. “Or do you want me to elaborate how this is more your fault than it is mine?”

You clenched your hands together when he threw the parchment right onto your face. Your Uncle hated to be undermined and you loved to get under his skin whatever means necessary. He was no better than your father, the only thing he had that you father didn’t was being the eldest son–nothing more, nothing less. As cruel and neglectful as your father was, he knew how to live and how to work, something Ormund did not inherit for his own use.

“Are we done, Uncle?”

“You are to address me as your Lord. Or have you forgotten your place already?”

“As far as I remember, I do not have a place here, you’ve made a point to constantly state as such, My Lord.”

“What place should a woman like you have under my ward? Constantly disrespecting me and my rules.”

“I am the wife of a Prince, by marriage and by reputation, I am now of a higher standing and position compared to you, Uncle.”

You refused to acknowledge your marriage and the power and reputation of your new husband, but at this moment of time, you had no other choice.

“Is that what you father made you believe?” He cackled, earning a shiver down your spine. “You and Alicent are nothing more than whore for the sake of the family name. If it means selling you to the Targaryens for the sake of power.”

At the mention of your sister, you snapped. Your left hand was burning, but the satisfying echo of your hand slapping your uncle’s cheek was worth it. What came next made it even more so when he slapped you right back before his hand gripped onto your hair.

Before the gasp could escape your lips, his other hand found its way around your neck, cutting air from your lungs and cutting what little chance of help you could muster in your state.

“Pathetic that you think you could even touch me, you wretched woman!” He spat. “You and your sister think you are above me and my reign? But you are nothing more than meat offered to dragons, your sister will most likely die the same death as the King’s first wife and you will have the same fate as your husband’s first wife!”

“I can have your tongue cut for your words against my sister and our husbands.” You were barely able to threaten, but it was enough to earn a cackle from the man.

Cruel, this was what you’ve always hated about being in Oldtown. Of the abuse that your father will never know and you had forced your brother never to admit to anyone. You were simply called the Wretched Hightower for you constantly going against the grain and it constantly ended with you being punished for it, accepting even the punishment that was meant for your brother and sister if it meant protecting them from the harsh treatment you were constantly enduring.

“I want to see you try, you whore.”

You could feel the black spots lingering in your sight before it was replaced with red instead. Splatters of blood that sprayed onto the air and eventually painted your face–before you met with the half of your Uncle’s head decapitated.

The hands holding you finally loosen and you were met with the sight of your husband, with sheer fury in his eyes as he held onto his sword. His lilac eyes looked down at the now fallen Lord Hightower before turning his gaze to you.

“Are you alright?”

You did not know what possessed you in this moment, but the tears finally fell. For the first time, someone had defended you against your Uncle. You found yourself wrapped gently in your husband’s arms as he soothed you in your sobs.

“Let’s go home.” He whispered gently pulling you away from him, his bent forwards to look right at you, his hands wiping away the blood that lingered on your face.

Even with the blood that completely painted his face, you saw him in a different light. It scared you that someone like him would act so gentle with you after committing murder–it was his duty to protect you it seems, whatever means necessary.

Before you could nod, the scream from one of the servants had you turn, but was pulled right back into the arms of Daemon, as his sword was lifted pointed threateningly towards the shaken servant.

“Your Lord has spoke ill of the King and the Queen and I have refused to keep him alive after he raised his hand at my wife.” Daemon spoke boldly. “Now have this cleaned up.” He barked as the servant immediately left leaving the two of you alone once again.

“Let’s go back.” You whispered finally finding your voice finally.

“Let’s pack your things and have you cleaned up.” He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “We don’t want to have Caraxes reject you for smelling like that cunt of a Hightower.”

“Hey!” You protested offended now.

“You are now under the house of Targaryen, and I will be damned if I allow you to ever use the Hightower name ever again.”

~

“Fuck.” You winced, licking your lips and feeling the sting on your busted lips.

“It will heal.” Daemon spoke from behind you.

For everything that had happened, the last thing you would have ever expected to do in your lifetime was riding an actual dragon with your husband. The same husband that just hours ago sliced off half of your own Uncle’s head as revenge for raising his hand at you.

Now you were both heading back to the Red Keep. But after everything that has happened and the repercussions that you were certain you would have to face, you would rather just ran away all over again–even if it meant jumping a thousand feet off the dragon that somehow earned a fixation over you since your husband insisted on your patting on the monster’s nose.

“You will say nothing, do nothing when you are questioned of your Uncle’s demise. I will ensure your honor and your innocence in the matter.” He spoke as if reading  your mind.

“Why would you do that?” You couldn’t help but question him turning to look back at him and you were met with the familiar smirk on his lips.

“Because you are my wife and because it is my sole mission to be as much of a nuisance to your father as humanly possible.”

At the mention of your father, you didn’t know what possessed you but you found yourself laughing at the hilarity of what you would return to. The shock and the fury that was certain your father would be in after your husband, the man he loathes the most, had killed his brother, who just so happens to be Lord of Oldtown–a real power vacuum now with Ormund Hightower not having a viable heir to replace him with no living heirs to replace him.

“I’m glad you found amusement in all of this.”

You didn’t but after what had happened, it was the only coping you could do for every single thing that was going wrong in your life and your family.

[wonderlandwalker]

Second Chances | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox Summary: Eddie royally screws up your first date (read part 1 here) Content Warnings / Tags: fluff (i think), swearing, the worst luck ever, no use of y/n, henderson!reader, reader is described to have some freckles idk, prolly a lot of spelling errors that I'll fix later read now at your own will Word Count: 1.4k A/N: so I kinda went through some trauma this past month but I just started ADHD meds and surprise surprise they work. Still didn't proofread this and am purely posting it cause I literally just wrote all of it in one go and I have poor impulse control even the meds can't fix that

He was late, and he only knew he was late because Wayne had gotten home and wondered what he was still doing at home. Now normally Wayne wouldn't have bothered grilling the guy, but Eddie hadn't been able to shut up about this for a week. Turns out this day was the day the kitchen clock had decided to stop working, resulting in a TV remote being flung at it the moment Eddie realised, because, of course, it had to be today, of course, his luck would run out again. But Wayne wouldn't let him give up that easily, because as he said it: "fate can go fuck itself, go over there and grovel", which honestly wasn't such a bad idea. So here he was now, definitely speeding, definitely more nervous than he already was, and definitely praying to any god who would listen for help. Because this was your first date, a date he didn't think would happen in the first place and he has already managed to screw it up without even being there. In an after thought he came to the further realization that he definitely did not want to face Dustin any time soon, the boy had become oddly protective of you once his friends actually clued him in on what was happening, which was obvious to everyone -except as established Dustin- with the way Eddie's eyes would trail after you every time he managed to spot you. He was trying to hype himself up, talk some confidence into himself and find a good way to apologize, not that he thought there were any. But just as he turned the corner to your block he heard it, he heard the worst possible sound on earth at this moment, he heard the sirens to Hopper's car. For a sweet small second, he allowed himself to believe Hopper wasn't after him, there was someone else committing a traffic violation on the other side of the street. Yeah, that's exactly what was going on, on the other side of this very much empty street was a car with a bunch of teens hooking up and Hopper had turned on his siren as a warning so he could put his clothes back on. Thinking about it, that wasn't even such a wild idea, like, that has happened to him before, well, except for the empty street anomaly. Right, time to face the music: Eddie came to a stop only about a hundred meters away from your house and rolled down his window as Hopper approached. Eddie shook out face to rid himself of the nerves and turned on his best smile. "So what's your excuse this time?" The Police Chief began to ask. Eddie quirked up at the question "It's not like the other times Jim I promise." Hopper looked him up and down squinted his eyes at him, cocking his head down just the slightest bit "How many warnings have I given you this month kid?" Eddie sighed, he knew where this was going. "Two" "Which makes this?" "The third" Eddie answered, dragging out his words. "Third warning kid, gotta write you up today" Hopper began to grab the police pad in his back pocket to write up the incident report, but Eddie was not above begging, at least not currently. "Listen, Jim-, Mr Hopper-, Sir, you can give me the ticket but can you please give it to me sometime else-" he was frantically moving his hands while talking now "- I'll even come by the station and pick it up myself tomorrow morning first thing but I have to-" And of course, things had to get worse:

The gods hadn't listened to his hasty prayers, because he could see Dustin in your open front door attempting to push you outside while pointing at Eddie's van. And he could tell the moment you spotted him because he could feel a small nerve entering his system, he could feel your presence connecting with his. And Hopper was asking him to please step out of the car right now. So he did, he stepped out and saw you give him a small wave which he tried to return except Hopper was snapping him out of the trance you still had on him from the other side of the street. So Eddie gave it one last-ditch attempt "Hopper please" "Alright let's hear it, what's your excuse?" Eddie's eyes brightened with the bit of hope he had just grabbed. "I have a date" he tried to explain "A date with who?" The chief wasn't gonna admit it, but the kid had grabbed his interest. So Eddie started rambling about how you two had met and how it should be your first date and then he caught your eyes again and he couldn't hear it but his mind filled in the blanks as he watched your soft giggling while looking at the situation unfold and he felt all his tension drop out of his body at once, he felt at ease from the way your eyes searched his, instantaneously so. "Wait a second, Claudia's daughter?" Hopper was looking over at the porch now too as your mother came out of the house as well. "That's not a great first impression" "Tell me about it" Eddie was trying to ignore reality as hard as he could right now. "Alright here's what's gonna happen, giving you one more warning but it's coming out of your tolerance next month" Hopper had assumed his dad stance, a hand on his hip and the other pointed straight at Eddie, and if he hadn't been oh so terribly grateful right now he would have been tempted to make fun of him for it. "Yes, yes! Definitely that please!" Hopper released one last sigh before he spoke back up "Go on over there then" Eddie took the olive branch and ran away with it before he could change his mind. With his van performing some emergency parking down the road he ran over to you just as you shooed off Dustin, and now he stood face to face with you, he stood close enough to count the fading summer freckles on the bridge of your nose and to smell the perfume he had started associating with you, and he wanted more time to admire how well he could see you right now but he had more pressing business. "I'll make this up to you I promise" He knew his promise probably wasn't worth much, but he had to try anyway. He had already started internally debating if it was worth getting down on his knees to beg as a smile cracked on your face. "This is exactly what Dustin predicted would happen" You were full-on grinning now, and it took him a second to comprehend that you weren't upset, you were amused, and he was confused. "He what?" "When he found out we had a date this weekend he tried to convince me you'd be at least an hour late with the Hopper on your ass I'm just stunned at his accuracy" Maybe this really was his year after all "So you're not upset?" "I'm just upset I owe that nosy dipshit money now" And now Eddie was laughing too because you started asking him if he wanted to just skip his reservation which you guys had missed anyway and go to the drive-in because you had heard they were playing Monty Python. So Monty Python it was as he drove there and got both the sweet and the salty popcorn because he wasn't sure which you'd prefer and spent the rest of the evening what he'd say was the perfect time. But he wasn't done yet, he had promised to make things up to you and this was only the beginning for him, a beginning to many good times ahead.

[@saradika-graphics still being my go-to for dividers] Taglist: @vicurious28, @arlxtoa, @em0220, @madyoghurt, @saturnsbxtchx, @maskofmirrors

[tedsies]

legacy collection - next day update

i've played again this evening and can report the following:

i'm still unable to generate a single instance of pink flashing, and I'm playing my biggest lots and hopping from community lot to community lot with no issue

the game did eventually have its first crash however, when i switched between my downtown hood and main hood after all of that aforementioned household switching and community lot hopping. so, yeah... sad that it crashed, but also it would have crashed way earlier with my UC install (it was also a different kind of crash though, no error message, the game just went black and shut down)

i have also run into a couple of super annoying bugs/mod issues - i can't select custom skins in cas due to some unknown bug?? and the community lot time mod is also not working for some reason (which is an absolute must for me) 😓

i'll keep updating this post with any further updates.

edit: another thing i've been thinking about is how ea has now already said they are going to be releasing bug fixes for the legacy collection. whilst good in theory, that also really scares me because one of the reasons i stopped playing ts4 was because i was afraid they would break the game and my saves with every patch (because they always did)

edit 2: i'm now back in the ultimate collection testing the graphics rule maker file from the legacy collection (shared by @brandinotbroke)... and i'm also now not seeing pink flashing/crashing happening here either. i'm confused... thankful, but confused. i've been playing for over two hours, in which time i've taken my sims to multiple community lots, all with an increased lot view distance setting (which I can normally NEVER put any higher than small). its obviously impossible to say whether its directly linked, but its difficult not to make some assumptions. if i have this kinda choice between UC and LC, i'm gonna go UC for the reasons above.

[aerynwrites]

Cards and Flowers

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

A/N: you all voted for Simon for the Valentines Day fic so I;m here to deliver! Hope you all enjoy this soft Simon goodness. Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, simon being a big softie (probably OOC lol), angst, fluff, so much fluff.

*apologies for any spelling errors this was quickly proofread*

The note showed up a few days before Valentine's Day, slid beneath the door of your room in a simple red envelope. You were confused at first, but curious enough to pick it up the moment you saw it and carefully open the small envelope to pull out the card inside. 

Will you be my Valentine? 

Brevard’s, Friday at 6 pm. 

- Your Secret Admirer

Immediately your skepticism reared its ugly head. You’ve never been asked out for Valentine's day, never been asked out period. What if this is some sick joke?

But then, all the memories of the little things that have been happening over the past week come to the forefront of your mind. The simple bouquet of daisies in the common room with your name on them. The singular candy bar with a sweet note resting on front of your door. a simple take out meal addressed to you one night when you were up late doing reports. 

Maybe…maybe it was real. 

Maybe, finally, you had piqued someone’s interest enough for them to go for it.

And, unbidden, the faint image of an all too familiar skull balaclava popped into your mind. 

You smile, tucking the note away in your pocket before heading to the rec room.

Maybe valentines day won’t suck so much this year after all. 

——

Ghost watches as you bounce into the commons area, eyes bright and an unusual pep in your step as you approach where he, Soap and Gaz sit around a small table playing cards. Your changed mood doesn’t go unnoticed by the other men either apparently, Soap looking up from the game to glance at you. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood, lass?” He asks, drawing a card. 

You smile brightly, and Ghost doesn’t miss the way your eyes dart to him as a flush creeps up your neck. 

“Guess who has a secret admirer,” you say excitedly, pulling out the card and placing it on the table. 

Gaz is the first to grab the card, brows rising as he reads it. “Brevard’s?” He asks, impressed, “That’s a fancy place, the guy must be well smitten to go in on a place like that.”

You nod, clearly thinking the same thing. “So I take it, you’re not my admirer then?” You ask, not all that seriously. 

Gaz smiles, shaking his head, “Brevards’ above my pay grade,” he claps you on the shoulder as you move to take a seat at the table, “you deserve the best though. Glad someone finally caught on.”

“Garrick’s right, lass,” Soap chimes in, reaching over to take the card, “Whoever this is, must be heelster-gowdie for ya…” he trails off for a moment. “Any idea who it is?”

Ghost watches, always watching - observing. It’s why he catches the way you look at him again before dropping your gaze back down to the card as you shake your head. 

“No, not yet, anyways. Guess we’ll find out Friday, huh?”

It’s also why he doesn’t miss the amused over the shoulder glances a group of officers send their table, almost silent chuckles meeting his ears. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you’re up almost as fast as you got here when you check the notification. You mumble something about Price needing reports you hadn’t finished before rushing off, Gaz and Soap wolf whistling after you - earning them a loud laugh from you. 

They return to their game, but don’t get far before Soap pipes up. 

“So, finally decided to make your move L.t.?” he asks, a knowing smirk on his lips. 

Ghost shakes his head, readjusting in his seat. “Wasn’t me.”

Both his sergeants look confused at his revelation, and Ghost internally curses himself for being so apparently obvious with his feelings towards you. Obvious to everyone except you it seems. 

He sees Gaz preparing another question, a rebuttal, probably some snarky comment - so he’s up and out of his seat before he can speak, muttering something about getting more tea. 

Mug in hand he approaches the small kitchen area, now well in earshot of the group of officers from earlier - all of them still sniggering about something. 

“Ah, I don’t know, Jennings - Don’t you think it’s kind of cruel-”

The man is cut off by Jennings, as Ghost approaches turning the electric kettle back on. 

“It’s just a little joke, Davies, quit being a buzz kill-”

Ghost watches from his peripheral as Davis shifts uncomfortably. 

“I just think it’s a little much. I mean - standing her up, really? on valentines day no less-”

The pieces click into place for Ghost in an instant, and red fills his vision. Jennings set you up. Plied you with fake gifts and cards all in order to play some cruel joke on you - the final act leaving you sitting at a restaurant by yourself on valentines day. 

He grips the handle of the kettle so tight, he hears the plastic creak beneath his fingers. His initial reaction is to toss the now scalding water right at the other officers face or at the very least step in and tell him what a terrible fucking mistake it would be to mess with someone on his team. 

But he stops himself as an idea curtails his rage. It’s a terrible idea - a selfish, horrible, will probably blow up in his face, kind of idea. But it takes root before he can stop it, and almost immediately he’s stalking from the commons area - Brevard's number dialed into his phone and kettle and card game long forgotten. 

——

Friday - Valentine’s Day - came quicker than Ghost expected. And even though he had done everything he could to prepare, he couldn’t snuff out the nerves boiling his blood. He’d called the restaurant the day you got the card to make a reservation - not too shocked to hear that they didn’t have anything available. But he wasn’t taking no for an answer, and after having a rather vague conversation with Price that left the captain more confused than anything - he was able to have some strings pulled. And now, there was a reservation for two under your name at a restaurant Ghost probably would never have stepped foot in otherwise. 

He stands outside the restaurant now, dressed in his nicest civvies, a simple bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand, paper crinkling in his sweat damp palms. You got here near half an hour ago, he can see you sitting at the window side table for two, nervously glancing around, checking your phone as the minutes pass by. 

He’s giving Jennings the benefit of the doubt, he tells himself, maybe he started to feel bad and would actually show up. 

But Ghost knows better. He knows Jennings is probably out wining and dining some other poor woman, completely unbothered that you sit at a table alone, the waiter’s pitying gaze getting worse and worse each time they come by to check on you. 

He finally shoves past his own insecurities, his own nerves when he sees you wipe at your eyes and start to fumble with your purse. He’s stepping through the restaurant doors, muttering to the hostess that he’s meeting someone and knows where to go. He just barely makes it to your table before you get up, tears bubbling up in your eyes as they land on him. 

He’s sure he’s a sight - a hulking man you’re so used to seeing in tactical gear and a skull mask - now dressed in dress pants and a plain black button down, sleeves rolled up, black surgical mask replacing the usual balaclava. Ghost isn’t even ashamed to admit he tried to style his hair, Soap helping him when he failed miserably the first time. 

You stare at him for a moment, eyes wide and mouth agape as you take in your Lieutenant standing before you with…flowers in his hand?

“Sorry ‘m late,” he says, pushing the flowers towards you, “took longer at the florist than expected.”

The lie is easy, just another one to add onto the calamity that is this evening. But when he sees the way your eyes fall down to the bundle - so much simpler than the extravagant roses typical of the holiday - your eyes light up, and a smile replaces the tearful frown that was present just moments ago. And Ghost knows he could give less of a fuck about little white lie. 

He slides into the empty seat at the table, the dainty wooden chair groaning under the bulk of him, while he watches you try to take stock of the situation. Only after staring at the flowers for an unusually long time do you finally turn to sit back in your chair, eyes flitting up to meet his as you set the bouquet to the side. 

“You’re...You’re the one who gave me the card?” You ask, voice soft. 

And god…if he could put that bashful look on your face everyday, he would. 

He responds with a soft hum, not quite a confirmation, but not quite a denial either. You take it as an affirmative, splaying manicured fingers out over the menu as the tension leaves your shoulders. 

“I…” you trail off, eyes falling down to the menu as you pick at the edges of it with your nails. “I was starting to think I’d been stood up. Some cruel joke or something -”

Ghost reaches out across the white table cloth, taking your hand in his as easy as breathing. 

“No joke,” he says, clearing his throat. “Not from me.”

You smile at him then, ducking your head down to hide your nervousness. 

“I was…” you bite your lip, and Ghost squeezes your hand to encourage you to continue. “I was hoping it was you, Ghost,” you finally whisper, words almost lost to the din of the restaurant. 

But Ghost hears them, and they spark a warmth in his chest he hasn’t felt in decades. A warmth that has him clutching your hand tighter in his own, thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

“Simon,” he says in return, reaching up to tug at the elastic around his ears, setting his mask aside. “No need for callsigns here, love.”

You smile again, this time the small action staying put on your lips instead of slipping away like sand through an hourglass.

“Okay, Simon,” you say, picking up the menu, “What’s good here?”

Simon can’t stop the chuckle from slipping past his lips, picking up his own menu in turn. “Hell if I know,” he grunts, “Never been to a place this fancy.”

You laugh then, and it’s in that moment that Simon realizes he never wants to let you go. 

——

You and Simon exit out into the cool evening air, a slight breeze nipping at your cheeks as you tug your coat on with Simon's help. 

Dinner went well - amazing - actually. You thought for sure you’d been taken for a fool when you were sitting in that restaurant alone, half an hour past the supposed meeting time. But then the one man you were hoping would show up, finally did. Blond hair styled just so, black button up neatly pressed, and a subtle tinge of red on his cheeks that you never expected to see from your unflappable Lieutenant. 

You were nervous at first, of course you were, but it dissipated quickly as dinner went on. The waiter came over, relief on his face at the sight of your date finally showing, and you almost laughed at how happy he looked for you. Wine was served shortly - bourbon for Simon, naturally - with dinner courses shortly after that. 

And Simon didn’t deny you a thing - he saw the way you wavered between ordering a steak and a salad, telling the waiter to bring both. Was in tune with the way you seemed to want dessert but hesitated at the prices. You both got what you wanted, you with a decadent chocolate mousse and Simon a simple piece of cheesecake drizzled with strawberry glaze. 

“That’s all?” You’d asked, slightly teasing.

Simon smiled, fork sliding into the dessert like a knife through butter. “I’m a simple man, love.”

You smiled then, heart fuzzy with warmth as you take in the man before you. 

“I highly doubt that, Simon Riley.”

You adjusted the bouquet in your hands, moving to cradle it in the crook of your elbow as Simon takes your free hand in his own - an action done so naturally you don’t even think to question it. But you do relish in it - in the warmth of his rough hand in yours, palm calloused with years of military work. You can’t help but lean into him as you both walk down the sidewalk towards the carpark, your eyes drifting to the bundle of flowers in your arms. 

You only find the courage to speak when you reach your destination, Simon stopping when you both reach your car. The words linger on your tongue, afraid to voice your suspicions and ruin the one thing you’ve longed after for the past year. 

You turn, resting back against the driver’s side door as you look up at Simon, neither of you saying anything for a long comfortable moment. You squeeze his hand, tugging him closer, smiling wryly as he obeys the silent request instantly. 

“You didn’t give me the card…did you, Simon?” You finally ask, voice soft, unable to keep the disappointment from your words. 

The silence that follows is answer enough, but Simon was never one to leave things unsaid. Not between you. 

“No. I didn’t.”

Three simple words. 

That’s all it took to make your heart sink to the floor, chest aching so fiercely it makes your eyes sting. 

“So...” You sniffle, “You just -”

Did it out of pity? did it to make me feel better about being stood up on valentines date? Couldn’t let poor little me be looked over again-

“Hey.”

A hand cups your cheek, rough palms sliding against soft skin as Simon’s fingers move to tangle gently in your hair, tilting your head up to look at him once more. 

“Don’t do that,” he says softly, brown eyes swimming in an emotion you’ve never quite seen from him before. “I…” he pauses, fingers twitching against your scalp as he struggles to find the words. 

And he must not find them - or at the very least decides they won’t convey what he really feels. Because, before you can react his free hand reaches up, tearing the medical mask from his face before he’s leaning in and claiming your lips with his own. 

You’d imagined kissing Simon more than you’d care to admit, but - as usual - he surprises you. It’s both gentle and all consuming. His lips moving against yours like he needs you to breathe. He releases your hand in order to take your face in both of his hands, pulling you towards him at the same time he leans forward to press into you, his warmth seeping in through your coat a stark contrast to the chill against your back from the car. 

You only pull away when his tongue presses against the seam of your lips, afraid that if you give in you’ll never be able to let go, and right now there’s still so many questions despite most of them being answered by that kiss. 

Simon doesn’t press, although he does chase you slightly when you pull away, instead shifting course to press a featherlight kiss to the corner of your lips. 

“How did you know?” He asks, breath warm against your cheek. 

“The card,” you admit gently, looking up into his eyes, “it wasn’t your hand writing.”

You continue when he doesn’t speak. “And the flowers. I…I hate daisies. I remember telling you that on a mission once. And what my actual favorite flowers were instead,” you rustle the bouquet in your arms. “You remembered.”

Your words are like a punch to the gut, stealing the very breath from his lungs at the knowledge that you know him on a level deep enough to remember his handwriting. To know that he’s the type of person to remember something as trivial as your favorite flowers. 

“I didn’t send the card,” he confirms again, pulling away just enough so his lips are brushing yours once more. “But I’m glad that fucker did,” he practically growls, “Gave me the push to finally take what I’ve wanted.”

And then he’s kissing you again, this one just slightly hungrier than the last, both of you devouring the other, finally - finally - taking the plunge you both were too terrified to take before tonight. 

And as Simon pulls you closer to him, one hand slipping beneath your coat to get just that much closer…You can’t help but be thankful for that damned card. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” Simon murmurs against your lips. 

You smile. 

“Happy Valentine’s day, Simon.”

[factual-fantasy]

I've just finished reading your response for the first time,

First off, thank you very much for the GIF and Video, as well as the explanations. I can definitely work with this.

I've downloaded and installed FireAlpaca for myself so I can start comparing what I'm seeing vs what is supposed to happen.

Immediately, Something stood out as weird to me: You're selecting multiple tools at once. That's... not supposed to happen. I tried it myself, Opened like 20 tabs and just started throwing colours at each canvas. This doesn't happen for me At all.

So I'm gonna give you some more instructions. (Tl:Dr for the instructions at the bottom, just above my little rant)

Backing Up your Brushes

FIRST let's make sure you don't lose all of your beloved brushes. from what I'm about to suggest.

in FA, I want you to go to Help > Open Config Folder

That will lead to a folder that, for me, looks like this

Keep in mind that it could look different for you, I have a fresh install with no cool special brushes. (also I can't draw to save my life)

Now simply Ctrl+A (select all) and copy it to another folder. go to like... Documents or Downloads or something, Make a folder called "Brushes Backup" and Paste all of it in there.

Alright, now to the actual thing I want you to do.

2. and 3. Uninstall and Reinstall FireAlpaca

There is some weird glitch I cannot Reproduce. So Just Reinstall FireAlpaca. this is the reason I wanted you to back up your brushes. Deleting the program and reinstalling will nuke all of the settings you use, so by copying the Config folder, you can easily reinstate your settings.

4. Testing

After you have reinstalled the program, I want you to open it, and mess around for however long you think it will take to trigger the glitch. (which sounded like only a few minutes) and see if something happens.

If not: Great!

If yes: You might want to reach out to https://firealpaca.com/report/ and fill out a bug report, and tell them that you have no way of reproducing the bug. (although I really think reinstalling will work)

5. Reinstating your brushes

Now, after you've made sure that FireAlpaca works, only then do I want you to Open the config folder again and put your brushes back. (simply close FireAlpaca after you've opened the folder, delete everything that's in it, and then copy everything from your "Backup Folder" into the config folder. )

6. Testing Part 2: Electric boogaloo

Then if you re-open FireAlpaca I want you to once again mess around a little and pay attention. Because the Bug might come back.

If it DOES come back, It might be one of your settings/brushes that is causing it. Which in that case I unfortunately have to suggest starting over with your brushes.

To recap: I'm asking you to:

Back up your brushes

Uninstall FireAlpaca

Reinstall FireAlpaca

Test to see if the weirdness is gone

Restore your brushes

Test to see if the weirdness is still gone

--- Rant Below ---

I have no clue what's happening to your program. This looks like some bug in the code that just causes FA to say "Nope" and stop responding to the side bar.

This acutally reminds me of a bug I've been encountering in Unity where the program refuses to open one of the UI pages in the Program's settings, which just completely shuts me out of the settings for one of the input libraries. Funnily enough it actually printed an error in my console, and the error was thrown so incredibly deep into compiled code that I was pretty sure I was reading Unity Source Code at that point.

I still don't know what's happening. Luckily I have Other People to interact with that settings page for me.

(This ask is in response to this post)

So once again I took sometime to test all this out, but unfortunately it didn't take me very long to come back with bad news.

So this is exactly what I did in this order:

I went to my config folder and copied everything into a new folder I created in my Documents tab. Then I went to my settings > apps > FireAlpaca and uninstalled. I then went to the official website and reinstalled it.

I opened up what should have been a fresh FireAlpaca and found this,

The red numbers are brushes that I have adjusted/used. And the "Fire roller (multiple colors)" and "twisted ribbon" are brushes that didn't come with FireAlpaca by default. I downloaded them afterwards from their little brush shop. For some reason FireAplaca remembered my brushes..

And of course, FireAlpaca was still breaking in the way that I've described in your last ask.

So I thought "Okay, I don't care if I lose my brushes and settings. I just want FireAlpaca to work." So I deleted that copied folder from Documents that I made, I unpinned FireAlpaca from my taskbar and deleted the desktop shortcut too just to he extra safe I guess..? Then I went to settings > apps > FireAlpaca and hit uninstall. Then went back to the website, reinstalled the latest version and wouldn't you know it,

All the exact same brushes, in the same order with the same settings. And FireAlpaca continued to break the same way.

So now I'm wondering if I did something wrong.. why does FireAlpaca keep remembering my settings? Did I do the uninstall process wrong? I wondered if that cache thing might be holding data or something? I've heard about that before. But with the help of a friend recently I cleared my Google Chrome and Laptop's caches. And FireAplaca didn't change at all and I didn't lose any of my settings. So that cant help me here..

I wonder if somehow my pen could be a problem? I've dropped it on the hard floor 100s of times. Could it be contributing? And what did I do wrong in this process for FireAlpaca to remember all my brush settings?

If anyone has any advice I would love to hear it <:(( Please and thank you very much 🙏🙏🙏

[thisisjustfanfic]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{My contribution to the fandom. The obligatory "everyone lives together in one big house and they kiss kiss kiss, and they love love love each other.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Eventual Smut. SFW (For now)

Chapter 1: Suspended?

Sitting on a park bench in the middle of winter was not how you thought you were going to be spending this afternoon. Though, you weren’t sure where you would like to be at the moment– shivering and sniffling as the wind whipped at your face was not it. 

Involuntary Leave. God, the sound of Jenna’s voice just wouldn’t leave your mind. She had said it so softly, like speaking to a baby bird. Like the last vestiges of your sanity would crumble if she spoke above a whisper. 

After the explosion that had– that had….After the explosion, you’d had a hard time. You did your best. Getting up in the morning. Reporting for duty. Killing a wanderer here and there. But you must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. Because a week turned into a month and then suddenly, Captain Jenna was in front of you with a sad expression and a packet of papers neatly tucked into a folder. 

Apparently, you hadn’t shown up for work several times this month, and when you did you refused to go on patrols. Your desk work was shoddy– riddled with obvious errors.

Tara had tried to cover for you on multiple occasions, but everyone at this point had noticed your zombie state. Jenna had been kinder when she mentioned it. 

“You’re off your game.” She had said. “Take some time. I’ve found some counselors and put their information in the folder. When you’re ready, your position here will be waiting. I swear.”

The wind picked up, whipping your hair across your face and drawing you from your thoughts. The tips of your fingers had long since gone numb and your feet felt like dead weights. 

Now what? All the information in the packet yet no one had told your landlord that it was temporary. That bald jerk had gotten the notification of a change in your employment and the next day you received a message requesting the keys.

If you had a nickel for every time you’d lost everything. You’d have two.

Snot dripped down from your nose, the cold once again insisting on reminding you of its presence. Just as you went to wipe it away your phone buzzed. 

I just left the hospital. I’ll be there in ten.

-Zayne.

That’s right. You were supposed to have lunch today. Zayne had insisted at the last check up on it. He wasn’t very subtle in his worry for you, but a free lunch sounded like just what you needed right now. 

You’d had enough money left to get a storage unit for your furniture, and had packed everything else in an oversized suitcase. The poor baby pink suitcase had only seen one other use before now, and stood out against the snow that was beginning to stick to the ground. 

You had to double check which restaurant you were meeting at, the details escaping your already flighty mind. It wasn’t a far walk, which was good, because the double digit number in your bank account barred against a hotel, let alone a taxi. 

With your suitcase at your side, you made your way to the restaurant. A new place that boasted a wide variety of dessert options. The little blackboard sign out front held an overly enthusiastic caricature of a mug and boasted the new options for hot cocoa. 

Of course Zayne would pick a place like this. You entered into the blissfully well heated establishment and began to scan the room for a familiar mop of charcoal hair. 

“What good timing.” A dulcet voice rumbled from behind you. With a slight jump you turned, seeing the very man you were looking for enter. Speckles of snowflakes dotted his hair and decorated the beige of his coat. He smiled gently and began to unwind the scarf from around his neck. “Shall we sit?”

You followed him to a corner seat next to a window and tucked your suitcase next to your chair. Now that you were sitting in a climate controlled room, you let out a bone deep sigh.

“You really should be wearing gloves.” Zayne noted as he finished pushing in your chair and went to sit across from you. “And a hat. The weather report called for more than four inches of snow tonight.”

“Oh,” You say dreadfully. “I…I just forgot.” 

Zayne’s eyes narrow slightly as he slides on of the menus in front of you. “Are you traveling?”

“Huh?” You blurt, looking up from the pastel colors of the menu. 

Zayne doesn’t reply and simply nods towards the obnoxiously pink suitcase at your side. 

Crap. You think as a flush blooms across your cheeks. You hadn’t really thought about it, but what could you say? ‘Oh no Zaynie! I’m not traveling! I got kicked out of my apartment after I was pretty much fired from my job! I have enough in my bank account for a hotel, and that's only if I turn a trick on the way there!’

Zayne might have known you longer than anyone else alive at this point, but yor pride prevented you from divulging your latest shame. Of everyone you knew, Zayne had his shit together the most. How could you expose yourself for not only not having your shit together, but being so far up shit’s creek without a paddle you were in the snow?

“Oh um,” You stalled as you tried to think of an excuse, “Yeah. A spontaneous trip, I guess.”

Zayne lifted his menu and began to browse it, but you were aware of the frequency with which he glanced up at you. Suspicion swirling in his golden-green eyes. 

A peppy waitress walked over and took a drink order– which Zayne ordered two waters and two hot chocolates. A salted caramel for him, and letting you pick out your choice from the dozen or so options there were to choose from. 

The happy young lady scurried away, and you felt a bitter pang of envy. She probably didn’t have a care in the world. She probably had never had to mourn anybody– while you were stuck mourning two families now. Try as you might to fight it, you were jealous of the happy little waitress and her simple, simple life. 

“You’re quieter than usual.” Zayne comments as he relaxes back in his seat. The snow outside has picked up now, casting a white haze over the street. The sidewalk has a good coating of it, and the people who walk by are hunched and hurrying. 

Just your luck to be homeless during a blizzard.

“Just a lot on my mind I guess.” You reply with as much cheer as you can manage. “How’s work? You mentioned an uptick in trauma cases last time I saw you?”

The corner of Zayne’s mouth curled downwards. “From what I can gather, there’s been more random Wanderer attacks. People being ambushed in places usually deemed secure. As a hunter, you’ve surely noticed the same?”

Crap. No, no you hadn’t. 

“Right. I-uh– I’ve been doing more deskwork lately.” You say lamely, but suddenly remembering the frequency with which your Hunter’s watch had been going off lately, maybe that was it? You’d thought you were just losing time in between notifications. “There has been more commotion, though.”

The waitress returned with your glasses of water and oversized mugs of hot chocolate, a happy smile and pen at the ready for their order. Zayne ordered a honey glazed salmon dish, while you chose something as filling as you could. Who knew the next time you’d eat out?

Once again, the waitress left, and Zayne turned his pressurized attention back to you. It always felt like he was reading you somehow, like a poker player at a high-stakes table sometimes. You wondered if he could see your tells. If, somehow, he’d deduced your unfortunate circumstances from innocuous movements of your eyelashes. 

His phone on the table buzzed a few times, long drawn out hums of a phone call that made his phone glide to the side. “Forgive me, I need to take this.”

Always the gentleman. He lifted it, and with a sigh he answered. 

Zayne didn’t even get a chance to greet the other person before an angry voice was shouting belligerently through the receiver. Zayne grimaced and pulled the phone away from his ear slightly.

You couldn't tell what the other person was shouting about, only that they were mad. Ranting pointedly in Zayne’s ear with no regard for the safety of his eardrums.

“Calm–” A sigh, “Calm down. I can’t understand anything you’re saying.”

Another tirade of shouting sounded from the other end, muffled and garbled by the small speaker. Zayne flinched again and they responded with a sigh, “Alright, alright. I’ll take care of it. I understand– Huh? No, I’ll find someone new.-- Well, you'll just have to deal with the mess until then.”

A more subdued response came from the phone, quiet enough you only heard the soft mumbles of their voice. Zayne nodded along for a moment before, before mumbling out a gentle goodbye. 

“I apologize.” Zayne said as he sat his phone back down. “My…colleagues are difficult at times.”

You chuckle softly, “That didn’t sound like Greyson or anyone else I know at the hospital. Sounded like they were raging. Everything okay?”

Zayne exhaled heavily through his nose and rest his hand on the table, tapping his fingers a few times– a habit. You could see a few remnants of pale scars across his thumb and his knuckles, ghosts of run ins with his unruly Evol. You’d only seen it act up one time, and you hoped that was because it had been behaving better for him. 

“He fired another housekeeper.” Zayne grumbled, “That’s six now in two months. I fear we’ll gain a reputation at this rate.”

“You have a housekeeper?” You asked with a slight tilt of your head. You would have thought perfectly neat and tidy Zayne would have no need for a housekeeper. 

“Had a housekeeper.” Zayne amended. The waitress returned and placed your plates in front of you, refilling your waters and skipping away.

“I wouldn't think you would need one. Is your apartment big?” You asked as you lifted your fork, nudging at some vegetables on the plate. 

“I moved last year. A house on the outskirts of the city.” Zayne replied, “It’s too big for me to take care of myself, and the others are less than helpful.”

“You have roommates?” 

“Three.” Zayne finished his hot chocolate before turning to his food, “Though, I’m not sure how managing the house fell to me. I think the manager at the agency will throttle me if I try to go back again.”

You paused, “So, you need a housekeeper? Isn’t that expensive?”

Zayne’s expression hardened a bit. You’d never discussed money before, nothing more than debating who would cover a bill at a restaurant. 

“We split the expenses.” Zayne offers with a small shrug. “Why? Debating hiring one of your own?”

You drop your fork and it clatters onto the table, “Let me do it.”

Zayne blinks, “What?”

Leaning forward in your seat, your heart is pounding in your ears. You feel like you just put every last dime on red twenty-three and the roulette wheel is spinning. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your housekeeper.”

Zayne covers his mouth with the back of his hand in a soft airy laugh, but it quickly fades when he sees your expression. He clears his throat and assesses you with that cool, calculating stare, “Why on earth would you want to do that? What about–”

“Zayne, please.” You interrupt him, and the cold edge to his stare melts. He looks caught off-guard and why wouldn’t he be? You huff out a mirthless laugh, “Let me do it. I’ll cook and clean and whatever else.”

“Absolutely not.” He rejects quickly, “That feels wrong. You’re my friend and that’s–”

“I need the money.” You admit with a stone in your gut. 

Zayne freezes and you can see the wheels in his genius mind turning. He glances over to your suitcase and you know you’re found out. “What’s happened?”

“I just need enough to get a cheap room.” You say instead of answering his question. “We can make a contract and I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“What happened?” The tone in his voice is sharp and strikes you directly in the chest.

You stare down at your untouched food and blink away the stinging in your eyes, “They put me on leave. The landlord kicked me out. I…I’m not traveling.”

The words leave you like vomit, stinging your tongue with the wretched taste of them. 

“You can just stay with me.” Zayne’s voice cuts through the growing haze in your mind. The cold fog that you’ve been living in for months, brushed away at the warmth in his voice. 

“No, I can’t do that.” You insist with a shake of your head. “I won’t take advantage of you. If I’m not working elsewhere, then I’ll earn my keep.”

“That’s really not nec–”

“Yes, it is.” You interrupt him again, and you realize how tightly you're gripping onto the tablecloth underneath the table. Your knuckles ache, and your voice trembles.

You can tell Zayne wants to push it. To others it might look like he’s just irritated, but you can see the uncertainty there. You’d known him long enough to know when he was silently debating something in his mind. You sit frozen, food growing cold, and wait for his answer. Teetering on a knife’s edge.

When he sighs and shakes his head, you rely you’ve won and some fraying knot in your gut eases. You smile and try not to look too overjoyed, but the realization you won’t have to sleep on a park bench has just made your week. 

“Eat your food.” He says firmly as he lifts his utensils, “I’ll take you to the house after we eat.”

You smile and dig in, the food tasting better than it has in months.

Your bike is currently in a parking garage at the mall near your old apartment, and so you climb into Zayne’s black sedan while he– after pulling it from your hands– puts your suitcase in the trunk. 

Rubbing your hands together to fend off the cold leeching in, you silently thank the gods for sending Zayne to you. His car is nice, leather seats and a fancy entertainment system, but not flashy. Trimmed with deep colored wood and elegant silver. There’s nothing sentimental in the car– no kitchy trinket hanging from the mirror or cute steering wheel cover. If you didn’t know any better you might think it was a rental. 

As Zayne enters the car and begins to drive in silence, you realize he’s not the type to leave traces behind. His office has a picture of his parents, and a few mementos from patients, but nothing to really mark it as his. His car is bare of him, and you wonder if his house is the same. 

In your rush to vacate your apartment, you had been sure to keep some sentimental things. Pictures and plushies from your life that now felt a million miles away. Just as much space was dedicated to the sentiments as it was clothes and necessities. 

“For the record,” Zayne says finally as he turns onto a highway. “I am not a fan of this. Your stubbornness is really unnecessary, and I’d much prefer it if you just stayed as a guest.”

You bite at your lower lip, hating putting him in this uncomfortable position. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stand the idea of taking advantage of your hospitality like that. I have no idea how long this will last. Please let me do this.”

Silence answer but then, a soft laugh, “Never thought I’d hear someone begging to clean my house.”

You look over at him with your mouth ajar and find that subtle mirth dancing in his eyes. He could be downright playful when he wanted to be, but it was rare. It had taken you years to understand his dry humor, and to understand the difference between a jab and a jape. 

“We should set some expectations, I suppose.” Zayne says before you can retort. “The house is rather large, and has multiple rooms. The main priority is the common spaces: the living room, kitchen, dining, room, etcetera.”

“I can handle that.” You say with a determined grin.

“There’s also a gym. A studio. And a garage.” Zayne mentions, glancing at you to gauge your reaction, but you don’t back down. “The bedrooms are for the occupants to clean. They can handle their own laundry, for the most part.”

For lack of anything else, you stare at Zayne’s hands, watching as they flex against the smooth leather of the steering wheel. His scarred knuckles shift as he turns. You feel like you know him so well, able to read him and understand him, but you had no idea he’d moved and no clue how a man like Zayne ended up living with three roommates. It made you wonder how much you really know about him. 

“Got it.” You affirm with a nod. 

“Can I at least convince you to take a week before working?” He tries again, hand clenching against the wheel. 

The bustle of the city transitions to wide spread out buildings, but not a residential neighborhood like you expected. Snow still swirls in the air, covering the world in a blanket of white. 

“I’ll take a day to settle in.” You offer, and Zayne just sighs. 

Zayne pulls up to a building that most certainly does not look like a house. It looks like a commercial building, one of those that houses multiple business offices that don’t see customers or patrons. It's a plain rectangular thing covered in what looks like windows on the second and third floors, the bottom being plain concrete. He turns through an automatic gate and then down a ramp into a garage below. 

The bright white of the snowy upper world gives way to the shadowy cavern, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. It’s almost like a parking garage with a series of parking spots filled with four other cars and two different bikes. 

You keep your questions to yourself, though they buzz at the tip of your tongue as Zayne locks the car into park and exits. You take a deep breath and unbuckle your seatbelt, and by the time you turn to exit, Zayne is opening your door. 

You flush at the chivalrous treatment and take the hand he offers to help you out. Your hand is only mildly warmer than his, his cool fingers holding your palm with a loose chaste grip. 

The air in the garage is cold, but not nearly as frigid as it is outside. You fluster for words for a moment while Zayne goes to the trunk and retrieves your suitcase, sliding it out of your range when you go to take it from him. 

The smirk on his face is equally flustering as it is frustrating. He leads you over to the far wall, and you realize there’s an elevator. 

You can’t help the impressed whistle as he presses the call button, “An elevator? Wowee, this is some place you’ve got here.”

Zayne chuckles as the elevator door opens and he motions for you to enter first. He follows you and presses the star button for the main floor, “It’s more lavish than what I would have picked, but the others have their tastes.”

“You haven’t told me about your roommates yet.” You mention as the elevator ascends, a touch of nerves sparking in you at the realization that you'll be staying with more people than just Zayne.

“They’ll likely keep to themselves.” Zayne assures. Another ding sounds and the doors part, this time Zayne steps out first and holds a hand over the doors as you exit, 

The elevator opens up into a tall foyer. Shiny wooden floors with a long carpet down the middle. The walls are decorated with art you’d think should be in a museum, and a heavy chandelier hangs over your heads. 

Zayne’s hand ghosts across your lower back and pulls your attention away from admiring the decor, “This way.”

Nearly boneless, you follow him. Turning around a corner and into a wide, open concept living space. A living area with three couches surrounding a large, square coffee table is the centerpiece of the room. A modern fireplace on one side, and TV above it. The windows completely line the opposite wall, a picturesque view of a garden and the city beyond being pelted with bouts of snow. 

The kitchen is to the left, separated from the living space by a long bar with square barstools lining it. A hanging light fixture illuminates the bar and counter, swirling and organic metal holding several pendant lights. 

It’s massive. It’s lavish. It’s going to be hell to keep clean. This seems like too much house for even four people. Who lives like this?

More paintings fill spaces on the walls, plenty of greenery decorating the corners and surfaces giving the space a more warm and cozy feel. You’re certain this place would feel clinical without it. 

“This is the main living area,” Zayne explains, “The main kitchen is there, but there’s a smaller one upstairs.”

Two kitchens? Your mind squawks, but you keep your lips sealed. You nod with a tight smile when Zayne looks your way.

“There are two bedrooms on this floor. Two on the next floor. And one below us.” Zayne continues as he turns towards the hall to the right. “The spare bedroom is upstairs. Follow me.”

Zayne picks up your suitcase and leads you up a staircase and down another hall. He opens a door and lets you inside, setting down your suitcase on the settee at the end of the bed. 

For guest bedrooms, this one is very cozy. Instead of sharp lines and modern finishes, it’s more lush. Wooden furniture and warm colored walls. The bedding is a soft cream color and there's soft blue, pink and purple pillows at the head. One of the walls in almost all windows again, but when you step close the cold barely leaks through. 

Zayne moves to the other wall and opens a door, “Here’s the closet.” He walks over to the last wall, “And here’s the ensuite bathroom.”

Your heart suddenly swells, feeling overwhelmed. “This is…thank you, Zayne.”

A small smile appears on his face and he approaches you, you think he might touch you. A gentle touch to your hair or even a hug. You feel yourself brace for it, not moving physically but opening up like a flower to his potential affection. 

He doesn’t touch you, but he does offer you one of those dazzling small but breathtaking smiles that he does. The sweetness of his smile reaching the precious gems in his eyes, sparkling with something so genuine it makes your heart hurt.

“I have to return to the hospital.” Zanyne says, and your heart sinks. “Feel free to explore the place. I’ll send a message to the others about the circumstances.”

“I’ll probably hide in here til you get back,” You admit with a laugh. 

“Do you need anything while I’m out?” He asks, “Were you able to get everything from your apartment?”

“I think so.” You take in a deep breath and let the relief settle in, “Thank you again Zayne. We can discuss the specifics when you get home.”

His eyelashes flutter a bit as he reacts imperceptibly to your words, but his smile returns and he nods, “I’ll see you then.”

Next->

[hederasgarden]

The Astronaut's Wife AU | Bob Floyd x F!Reader

At 2:36 pm, 125 miles above Earth, astronaut Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd lost contact with NASA for two long minutes. The official report lists a simple electrical error, but when mysterious and bizarre things begin to happen to the rest of Bob’s crew, his wife suspects something is terribly wrong. Eventually, she uncovers the horrifying truth: whatever returned from space isn't her husband, not anymore.

[moonzzip]

spill the tea | kwon jiyong

a/n – so, I wrote this during class, I couldn't pay attention, I was thinking too much about jiyong. I don't know if I'll do another part, it depends on your reaction, initially, I don't plan on doing pt.2, I'm enjoying doing a bit of angst so much, i don't understand... again, I just wrote what came to my head, the english is still kind of... bad, but I hope you like it!

everything has been lightly reviewed, please let me know of any grammar error/incorrect word!

summary: jiyong is anxious, very nervous about appearing on stage again in front of so many people, but you appear.

pairing: jiyong x gn!reader

warnings: a fair amount of self-deprecation, abusive work, mentions of anxiety, reader has confidence issues, angst, fluff

lowercase letters, word count: 1,1k (again)

spinning the rings on his fingers, jiyong’s palms sweat, and he unconsciously wipes them on his light pink pants. looking around absentmindedly, his thoughts race a mile a minute, and he exhales hurriedly.

hearing two soft knocks on the door, he looks at it, a bit confused.

“jiyong-nim?” you whisper, peeking in with only half of your face visible, your body still outside.

the man nods, giving you permission to enter. you smile softly and finally step inside.

“excuse me…” your voice is gentle, barely above a whisper, not wanting to be a bother. “since i know you like tea, i decided to make some and bring it to you.”

in your hand, you hold a metallic thermal bottle, and in the other, a small, delicate package of chocolate cookies you had baked just a few hours ago.

you can’t help but wonder how he must be feeling, returning to the stage after so many years. being part of his personal staff, you and the team always communicate with him directly.

well… not you. the others.

you never had the courage—nor the opportunity, really. not for lack of trying, but because of someone specific.

of course, the great g-dragon would have a highly qualified team of professionals. but you never felt like one of them, and that person made sure to remind you of your “proper place.” the moment jiyong turned his back, all of her frustrations were dumped onto you. maybe you were hired as a verbal punching bag for the “blessed being” without realizing it. it made you wonder if you had remembered to read the fine print.

she didn’t even bother to call you by your name—always using other names, but never yours.

of course, you had thought about reporting it, but someone as insignificant as you in this industry, compared to her—who is beloved and has more connections than you could count—who’s to say she wouldn’t send someone to get rid of you while you’re in the bathroom? you never know. you know they would never fire her. you losing your job would be much easier than any close employee of jiyong’s facing consequences.

you? a new hire? who gets stepped on by senior staff? reporting her and expecting her to be fired for abuse of power and verbal harassment—if that’s even considered a crime? never. only in your dreams.

you’ve always known that keeping quiet avoids unnecessary arguments, even if you constantly bite your tongue to hold back a sharp reply. you need this job to survive. the salary is too good, and you think you can endure a certain level of mistreatment. at the end of the day, you’re working for g-dragon.

kwon jiyong.

so, you put up with a little more.

you’ve always been someone who minds their own business, who hates being a burden, who puts effort and dedication into everything you do. that’s what got you here, and you won’t let nerves over trivial things get the best of you.

sometimes, you stop and wonder if it’s worth tolerating such ridiculous treatment. but then you remind yourself—you’re on your own. you handle things as best as you can with what you have.

just you and yourself.

you don’t remember having any true friendships you’d take with you for life. maybe some colleagues, but nothing like “i need a shoulder to lean on, can i talk to you?”

you don’t dwell on it. you don’t even seek that kind of connection anymore—you gave up long ago.

you care too much about what others think of you. you like leaving a good impression—being seen as reliable, always prepared, capable of doing whatever is asked of you.

but you also let people step on you—on your pride, almost on you, literally.

when did that become “okay”?

you have no idea. it feels like it’s always been this way. you’re invisible. never invited to anything. you watch others having fun, calling each other out for drinks, and you can’t even picture yourself in a situation like that.

honestly?

you silence your thoughts for now.

you hand him the tea and cookies, and he stands up, bowing politely, ever so charming. a small smile grace his beautiful face, bringing a subtle glow of admiration to your own, soon he sits down again.

“i tried making passion fruit tea with pomegranate… passion fruit helps with stress and mood, pomegranate helps with the throat in case of hoarseness or pain, and also—”

jiyong watches you ramble (your voice still soft and low, almost a whisper), his lips forming a small pout, eyes slightly wide, eyebrows subtly raised. one hand rests on his chin, legs crossed, elbow propped up.

for the first time since arriving here, he finds himself distracted, momentarily forgetting his nerves and anxiety.

thinking back, he realizes he has never interacted with you directly.

of course, he’s seen you around—always busy, whether carrying heavy boxes, taking notes from a distance, staying late to fix a loose button or sequin on his outfit, bringing drinks, coffee, and snacks for everyone (never personally handing them to him), and countless other tasks that he’s almost certain aren’t your responsibility.

he’s never seen you with anyone. a friend, or something like that.

not that he had noticed before.

but, you know, when people are close, it’s something you can feel.

jiyong’s thoughts (just like your rambling) are abruptly interrupted by the loud, sudden swing of the dressing room door.

both of your heads snap toward the sound.

“jiyo-ssi!! you’re up next, it’s packed today, hurry up!”

ah, it’s her. the very person who used you as her personal punching bag.

without so much as a polite greeting, she shoves you aside and grabs jiyong’s arm.

still surprised, he simply looks ahead as he’s dragged away in a rush.

you just stare down at your hands, now clasped together in front of you, until—

“___?”

startled, you look up—and see g-d smiling at you.

in your eyes, he glows.

“thank you so much. i feel a lot better now.”

his voice, deep yet gentle, carries the words, and suddenly, the world seems more colorful as you both look directly at each other.

have you ever noticed how beautiful his eyes are?

and then, the door closes.

you stay there, frozen, until your legs weaken, and you crouch down, placing a hand over your racing heart, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“…but you didn’t even drink the tea…” you murmur, embarrassed.

a/n – thanks for the positive reactions on 'thinkin' bout you'! I'm glad you liked it, it just makes me want to write more. this time I heard JK's 'still with you', it brought up a lot of feelings and I ended up pouring it all out in the reader's self-deprecating parts. Sorry not sorry. sorry again for my english, feel free to correct me kindly!

[wings-of-ink]

Hello, my friends!

Just wanted to pop in with some info and updates.

*The "Cursed Birthday" won the 2k follower celebration poll. Sorry dads! I don't have an ETA for that just yet. I may write it here and there until the end of the year as the motivation strikes. I think the easiest way to tell the tale would be from Oswin's POV or even a shifting POV between him and Da (Kip). I'll decide for sure once I begin to write it. Also playing with the idea of doing this in Twine to make it playable. That way you could put your MC's specifics in for maximum emotional damage.

*I will still write things about the dads though, so all my Papa and Da fans out there won't be left in the dark forever.

*I will be "patching" Chapter 5 in the near future. I redid Zahn's scene (again) which gave me such a headache on release day. I formatted the beginnings in a much more streamlined way and fixed some bugs. When I have more time to sit and go through error reports, and make more corrections to typos, grammar, and code - then I will put the patch through.

*All chapters will be getting a scrub for issues in the text in the coming months. I will do my best to find them, but self-editing is very difficult (there's good reason that professional editors exist). In the future, I may need to ask for testers/editors.

*ASKS will be changing a bit. I do not know the full extent of how because it's a trial by fire. The rules will be updated as I come across things. But, here's why:

Spoiler prevention - as much as it is possible, I want to limit spoiling content for both new and existing readers. Not just for the plot points that are developing, but also for our mystery suitor who will have a lot of unraveling in the coming chapters. I will probably make a specific tag for answers that may contain spoilers, but some of the issue is the information in the Ask itself, which I can't hide. I may opt to compile these in a big post like once a month or so. This way, if anyone does not want to see anything spoilery, it's easier to avoid.

Time management - reaction asks specifically will remain limited and they will honestly have to be a lower priority depending on the condition of my inbox. I am very sorry for this, but these can take an inordinate amount of time. I write this IF in my downtime from work and personal life, and I also use those moments to manage Tumblr. I need to balance those so I can work toward releasing more of the IF.

Patreon - I still plan to give Patreon a go probably starting January. This will help me fund things for the game, such as art, and help me justify spending even more of my time writing chapters and extras. But like everything else, I will need to allot time to work on these things.

Personal Development - I'm taking a coding class! I can work on it at my leisure and it won't take a ton of time during the week, but it will take me out of my Tumblr time a little bit I think. Fingies crossed, I will learn a lot that will help me code a better game for you!

*Inbox - I have several Asks awaiting responses about chapter 5. As noted above, I am holding these due to spoilers to give readers a chance to catch up. (I may opt to compile these in one large post.)

Anyway, that's all for now (it's at least all I currently remember, lol).

Take care, all!

~Lunan ^_^

[genshin-impact-updates]

Web Event "Fragrant Fantasy" Now Online: Embark on a perfume-making journey with Miss Emilie~ Take part to obtain Primogems and other in-game rewards!

>> Click to Take Part in Event <<

Flowers and trees intertwine, mingling together to create a melody of fragrance.

Embark on a perfume-making journey with Miss Emilie~

〓Event Duration〓

July 9, 2024 – July 15, 2024 23:59 (UTC+8)

*Rewards cannot be claimed after the event ends. Please claim them in time.

〓Eligibility〓

Travelers who have reached Adventure Rank 10 or above can participate in this event.

〓Event Description〓

During the event, you can log into Genshin Impact daily, consume Original Resin, claim Commission Rewards, and complete other missions to obtain card packs.

Open the card pack at the workbench to obtain any Plant and Omni Cards. Plant and Omni Cards can be used to blend perfumes. You can obtain different grades of perfume based on the level of cards used.

After successfully blending perfumes, you can obtain Primogems and other in-game rewards based on the total number of perfumes made. Meanwhile, you can give these perfumes to Furina, Navia, and Sigewinne, and they will provide different feedback and evaluations based on the perfumes gifted.

You will receive fragrance reports from different companions for each bottle of perfume gifted. Give out perfume and share your fragrance report to obtain Primogems and other in-game rewards.

〓Obtain Ingredients〓

You can obtain card packs through the following methods and open them at the workbench to receive the corresponding Plant or Omni Cards:

1. Complete the following actions in Genshin Impact and the web event every day: log into Genshin Impact every day, consume 40 Original Resin, and complete other missions to receive the corresponding number of plant card packs.

2. Daily missions refresh at 04:00 (Server Time) each day. Unclaimed plant card packs will also be cleared by then. Please claim and use them in time. Claimed plant card packs will not be cleared.

*If you try to visit the event at around 04:00 (Server Time), which is when the daily missions refresh, you may encounter a brief network error. Please refresh the page if you encounter this error.

〓Make Perfumes〓

1. You need to place three different plant cards separately when making perfume. These plant cards have mutually exclusive relationships. You can open the Perfume Handbook on the left side of the workbench to read the relevant information on perfume blending. Using different plant cards will result in perfumes with different fragrances and colors.

2. Two same basic plant cards can be merged into an advanced plant card. Three advanced plant cards can be used to make a premium perfume.

3. You have the opportunity to draw Omni Cards from card packs. Omni Cards can be used to replace any basic or advanced plant cards. Additionally, when you use three Omni Cards to blend perfume, it will automatically create a perfume that you have yet to own.

4. Failing to blend a perfume does not deduct plant cards and you can try again multiple times.

5. During the blending process, you can visit the Exchange Shop at any time and use available plant cards that you no longer require to exchange for plant cards of the same level that you need.

6. Once you have successfully blended a perfume, you can send it to a companion. The corresponding companion will give different feedback based on the perfume you send out.

*If you exit in the middle of the blending process, plant cards will not be deducted.

*If you try to blend perfumes at around 04:00 (Server Time), which is when the daily missions refresh, you may encounter a brief network error. Please refresh the page if you encounter this error.

〓Customize Perfume Packaging〓

1. You can create perfume packaging for your companions on the page. Depending on the types of plant cards unlocked, different dyes can be unlocked.

2. You can use dyes to create your very own perfume packaging.

3. While designing the perfume packaging, you can clear the dyes you have applied at any time and start over, or undo the last dye application to remake it.

〓Event Rewards〓

Make a total of 12 bottles of perfume, successfully make 1 premium perfume, send 1 bottle of perfume to your companion, and share your fragrance report once to obtain a total of Primogems ×120, Mystic Enhancement Ore ×8, Hero's Wit ×8, and Mora ×90,000.

*The in-game rewards will be distributed via in-game mail. The mail will expire after 30 days, so don't forget to claim the rewards in time.

*This web event is provided purely for entertainment. It is not indicative of any related gameplay features in Genshin Impact.

[tessa-liam]

The One Who Got Away 

Thank you @kyra75 for your ask --  Prompt #4, ‘This is all my fault’ for @choicesprompts – Angstgiving Event 

Choices Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2 

Pairing: Liam Rys x Riley Brooks (F!MC) 

Rating: mature 

Category: angst/fluff, one-shot, ask/prompt 

Words 3.5k, with sprinkles of Canon 

A/N1: not Beta’d, please excuse all errors 

Premise: Liam and Riley are in love, but due to circumstances, they are pulled apart. Riley leaves Cordonia to go back home to New York, heartbroken. Liam marries Madeleine, reluctantly, to fulfill his duty as King. A year later, while visiting New York, Liam runs into Riley.... 

ONE YEAR AGO ...

New York. The place where dreams come true. The Statue of Liberty. The Empire State Building. Central Park. 

As the limousine pulled up in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a sea of reporters and cameras flooded the sidewalk, all desperate to catch a glimpse of the young King of Cordonia. 

He'd arrived in New York earlier that day to spend the next two weeks on a goodwill tour, courtesy of his PR team. He'd already spent several days in Washington, DC, before stopping by a few other major US cities. New York City was the grand finale. 

King Liam stepped out of the limousine, his personal security flanking him, and walked into the throng of reporters. He was met with a barrage of flashing cameras, blinding him. His bodyguards tried their best to hold the crowd back. 

"Your Majesty! Over here! Look over here, please!" 

Liam put on his most dazzling smile and waved, walking towards the doors, surrounded by the press. 

"What are you hoping to accomplish during your stay in New York?" 

"Who will be accompanying you?" 

"Do you have a message for the people of Cordonia?" 

"King Liam! What is the state of the relationship between your country and the US?" 

"Will you be making any important announcements soon?" 

Liam smiled politely at the reporters, but refused to comment on their questions. He reached the top of the steps leading into the museum, and stopped for a moment, taking in the view. It was a gorgeous, but chilly,  November day in New York. The trees had long since lost their leaves and were now a dark brown, contrasting with the gray skies above. The weather had forced most New Yorkers to stay indoors. 

Liam glanced at his watch. It was 10:45 am. 

"Your Majesty? The exhibit is waiting for you." One of the museum staff motioned him inside. 

Liam walked through the massive, imposing entrance doors and made his way through the crowd of museum visitors, down the marble-floored hallway, towards the room where the exhibit was waiting for him. 

The museum staff, dressed in black-and-white, were all huddled near the door, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. 

"This is going to be a huge draw for our museum." 

"I can't believe they let us borrow these artifacts." 

"We're lucky the King agreed to open the exhibit." 

Liam cleared his throat and the museum staff immediately stood at attention. 

"Welcome, Your Majesty. We're honored you're here," the museum director bowed in respect.

"Thank you, but there's no need for all the formality," Liam smiled warmly. "Please, please call me Liam." 

The museum staff beamed as the director held out his arm to escort Liam into the gallery.

"If you'll please follow me, Your Ma—, uh, Liam. We've prepared the exhibit for your inspection. Please take as much time as you'd like." 

Liam followed into the spacious, exhibition room, his personal security standing outside. The staff were bustling around, checking the artifacts and displays. Liam took a few steps further into the room, and his breath hitched in his throat. 

At the end of the room, on a plinth, was a large display case, with a crown encased inside. It was a golden circlet, embellished with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. 

The Queen's Crown of Cordonia. 

He recognized it immediately. It had belonged to his mother, Queen Eleanor, before she had died. She had never had a chance to wear it. 

Liam's hands were trembling, and his knees were weak. He slowly approached the crown, his eyes fixed on it. The last time he'd seen this crown was at his mother's funeral. After that, it had been kept locked away in the Royal Treasury. He'd thought it would stay there forever. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" came a familiar voice. 

Liam's head snapped up and his heart skipped a beat. 

There, standing in front of him, was the love of his life. 

Riley. 

He couldn't believe his eyes. What was she doing here? 

"Riley," Liam gasped, taking a few shaky steps towards her. 

They stood inches from each other, but neither could make a move. There were a million thoughts running through each of their minds, but they couldn't utter a single word. 

"You look stunning," Liam finally said, breaking the silence. 

Riley blushed. "I didn't realize you'd personally be here." 

"My PR team set up this visit."  Liam softly spoke.

"I'm glad they did." Riley nervously responded.

They both stood in silence, staring at each other. 

Liam took a step closer and reached for her hand. 

"I've missed you," he whispered. 

"Me too," Riley replied, squeezing his hand. 

They gazed into each other's eyes, their hearts filled with longing and desire; even after all the time apart.

"Liam, I..." Riley started to say. 

"What is it, Riley?" 

"Nothing. It's just...I'm happy to see you." 

"I'm happy to see you, too," Liam said. "And I'm sorry, about everything." 

"It wasn't your fault." Looking down, Riley shook her head.

"Yes, it was. I should've done more. I should've fought harder. This is all my fault" 

"No. Liam, don't blame yourself." 

"But I do." 

Moving their conversation to a secluded alcove, Riley placed her hands on his cheeks. "None of this was your fault. You did the right thing. And you're an amazing King. You're the best King Cordonia has ever had. You made the right decision." 

"But I lost you." 

"It was my choice, Liam. I chose to walk away. I chose to leave." 

"Why?" Liam searched Riley's eyes for an answer.

"Because I knew you would never choose me over your duty. And I would've never forgiven myself if I forced you to make that choice. That would've been too selfish of me. You were always going to make the right decision for your country. And that's what made me fall in love with you." 

"Riley, I—" 

"Wait, Liam, before you say anything... there's something I need to tell you. It's important." 

Liam frowned. "What is it?" 

Riley hesitated for a moment, then looked up into his eyes. Closing her eyes, her heart was pounding inside her chest. "I was pregnant." 

The color drained from Liam's face. He stared at her in shock. "What did you just say?"  Liam didn't trust his hearing.

"I was pregnant, with our baby. I found out right after the coronation." 

Liam couldn't believe what he was hearing, shaking his head, no. He was completely stunned. He couldn't speak. 

"I didn't know how to tell you," Riley continued. "So I didn't. I was afraid of what you'd say. Of how you'd react. I didn't want to ruin your life. So I kept it a secret." 

"Riley, why didn't you tell me?" Liam asked, his voice hoarse. 

"I don't know. I guess I was scared. Scared of what you'd think. Scared that you'd hate me. I'm sorry, Liam. I should've told you. But I didn't want to put you in a difficult position. I didn't want to force you to make a choice. That's why I left. I knew that if I told you, you'd try to figure something out, and I couldn't let that happen. Not when the future of your kingdom was at stake." 

Liam was speechless. His heart was pounding. 

"I didn't want to ruin your life," Riley said again, her voice breaking. "It was all my fault." 

"How could you say that? Riley?" Liam was heartbroken.

"What do you mean? It was my fault. I was the one who got pregnant. I was the one who kept it a secret. I was the one who left."  Riley covered her face with her shaking hands.

"No. Riley, it's not your fault. It was my mine. I should've protected you. I should've done more. But instead, I failed you. I'm so sorry, Riley." 

Riley shook her head. "No. Liam, don't. Please don't. It's not your fault." 

Liam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "It's okay, Riley. It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you. Not ever." 

[present day] 

Liam's eyes slowly opened and he was greeted with the sight of his sleeping wife. He was lying on his side, facing her, his arm draped over her waist. She looked peaceful. Her hair was splayed across the pillow and her lips were slightly parted. 

Liam gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. She stirred a little, but didn't wake up. 

He smiled to himself. 

They were together. They had another baby on the way. He'd done the right thing. 

His kingdom would be safe. His people would be safe. His family would be safe.

Everything was going to be all right. 

And yet, he couldn't help but wonder what might have been. If he had known Riley was pregnant; when she had left after the coronation... would things have turned out differently? Would they have chosen a different path? Would he have married Riley instead of Madeleine? Scandal be damned.

Or would the same thing have happened? Would he have still made the same decision, to choose his kingdom over his heart? 

It was too late to find out. 

He couldn't go back. 

He didn't have to.

***

🌹Thank you for reading.

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[sparklecarehospital]

This is just a reminder to everyone who regularly leaves comments on the site/intends to use the new FAQ comment section that missed the original discussion of it earlier this year, you'll be using a different comment service than Disqus but it's a way better one that doesn't have the weird NSFW ads and is just generally better overall.

Unfortunately, the old original site comments will no longer be accessible. I have no way to fix the issue due to the fact the foundation of the original site was just too broken to salvage but think of it like a refresher for everyone :] If you wanna comment on old volumes and leave your mark for future readers you'll have the option!

As for the other areas of the site with comments:

The CW masterlist page has a comment section that allows readers without Tumblr to ask questions about content warnings (for example, asking if something will ever be in the comic OR asking what category a specific thing would go under).

The CW suggestions page which gives readers the ability to suggest content warnings for specific pages (or entirely new categories if there's something major I overlooked) that may be needing them or even missing them in error.

The Lore page FAQ which allows readers without Tumblr to ask questions about Spinch worldbuilding or even make suggestions for new lore sections

Bug reports page, where you can report issues you're having with the site or give feedback or even make suggestions for ways I could improve the site.

On all of the above, particularly important questions will be featured at the top of the comment section for easy access.

As a note, to use these pages you will need an account on the new comment service but it's a very easy sign up and can be done in a few minutes. It is free! (For you guys lol, I have to pay for it)

Thank you everyone for your understanding and continued support of the comic! 💕