#another big fic lmao in less than a week

[seventh-district]

several days and 15 thousand words later, i am relieved to report that the suffocating urge to Write Something has been sated and no longer has me in a chokehold

[sugarbbgrl]

She (Price x OC)

I officially have an idea for a fic I'd been wanting to write for a while now, I really hope it goes the way I want it to. It's inspired by 'She' by Harry Styles. I've been listening to it on repeat, trying to figure out a way to format it into a story. Feedback is greatly encouraged and appreciated <33

John is in a broken marriage. Candace is his younger daughter's homeroom teacher.

wc: 1414

cw: mentions of infidelity (wife), angst, heartbreak, children (LMAO), mentions of divorce

John couldn’t exactly pinpoint when things changed. He’d always been a loving father and husband. He and his wife have been together for ten years, meeting through a friend and almost immediately hit it off. They share two lovely daughters together and a beautiful home. He may have been physically absent sometimes, work having been the culprit, but he never missed a daily call with his family. But there’s been a heavy shift in his marriage, he could feel it almost immediately walking into their home.

While John’s kids are more than elated, sharing tight hugs and a few shed tears, John’s wife is distant, nothing more than a tight lipped smile sent his way. He knows it can take a toll on people when their partner isn’t around, but they’d made a promise to each other: for better or for worse.

She barely said a word to him, her back turned to him when they slept, barely even touching him or even looking at him. It’s never been this tense around each other, but now you could cut the tension with a butter knife. She didn’t say goodbye to him once she left for her own job, leaving the task of taking his teenage daughters to school himself, which he didn’t mind, but just leaving like she did wasn’t adding up.

Then it did. He could smell another man’s cologne and her lipstick smeared every so lightly around her lips. His heart shattered, tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t even fathom the woman he’s been so in love with committing the sinful act of adultery. Every question swarmed in his mind, the ‘why’s’ and ‘how’s’ coming together in one big jumbled mess. But his wife couldn’t care less, just sneering at John and heading to their shared bedroom, making sure to lock the door behind her.

John slept on the couch that night, getting little to no sleep. He was restless all night, silent sobbing and tossing around on a couch not fit for a man of his stature. Those questions and the sight of his wife in the state she was in plaguing his mind all night. How could she do this to me? He thought to himself. I’ve given her everything and more.

It happened again the next morning; she left without a word. John sniffled and made himself some coffee, hoping the bitter beverage would liven him up some for the sake of his children. He would fake a smile while being home with them, not wanting to worry them more than they must be. He quietly washed himself and changed, barely even taking a peek around the room that was once filled with so much love.

Everything was completely different.

John had been home for a few weeks now, still keeping his bed on the couch, sleep coming only slightly easier. He hadn’t even wanted to discuss what he’d bared witness to. He’d seen more signs since the first night. Missing pieces of clothing, small marks he knew for a fact he didn’t give his wife, and even more avoidance on her part. He knew the conversation would come soon, he just didn’t know how to approach the conversation.

But then one day everything changed. He’d woken up to take his kids to school, the usual routine since he’d been home. He’d take his time getting ready, waiting on his girls to finish getting ready before heading out. It never occurred to him that he hadn’t met their teachers, so he took it upon himself to do so that day, making sure to look his best for the rare occasion.

His oldest daughter’s teacher was an elderly woman, smelling of chanel and lilac. She had a warm smile and wide framed glasses perched on her nose. She spoke in a light tone and welcomed John in a warm, grandmotherly hug. He made sure to explain his work situation and why he’d been absent to meetings, but avoided the brutal details. She understood and sent him off with her contact information.

But then he saw her. His younger daughter’s teacher was drastically different from the previous. About ten years John’s junior, she was radiant. Her hair was midway down her back, bright red with striking hazel eyes, seemingly staring into his soul and learning all of his darkest secrets. She wore a long sundress, the wind picking up the bottom lightly to show a pair of flats on her feet. She smelled warm, like vanilla and jasmine and lips painted a light pink. She was radiant, like sunshine on a cloudy day.

“Oh, you must be Mr. Price!” Her smile was wide when she laid eyes on him, greeting him. “Jenny talks so highly of you! I’m Candace White, her homeroom.”

John looked down at her extended hand, small and delicate like a flower in the meadow. His heart raced as his hand connected with her, his rough palms almost swallowing her soft ones. He was speechless, he hadn’t felt this attracted to someone since he’d first met his wife. His wife. The thought of her soured his tongue and dried his throat, he hadn’t even thought of her all day, deciding all together it'd be better not to think of her under another man.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. White.” John returned the smile, dropping her hand lightly and stuffing his own back into his jean pocket. 

“Miss, I’m not married.” Candace chuckled and clasped her hand together at her front, correcting John’s misuse of the honorific.

“Ah, yes, my apologies Miss Candace.” John brought his hand up to nervously rub the back of his hand on his neck, emphasizing her correction. When did my palms start sweating? He thought to himself, failing to realize his skin had gone so clammy. I hope she hadn’t felt them when she shook my hand.

The sound of the morning bell rang through the school, indicating the start of the school day. Teachers and students alike swarmed to the front doors, doing their best to not be late.

“Well, it was lovely to finally meet you, Mr Price. I’d best get going.” She smiled once more and went to turn away, beginning her journey to the school.

“Wait,” John called out, his hand flying up to grasp her forearm. Her skin was warm, small specs of freckles dotted along her pale skin. “Can I get your number?” John asked, his hand firm against her arm.

Candace’s cheeks warmed, red spreading to her face and a nervous smile toyed at her lips. “Mr. Price-”

“I meant, can I have your contact information in regards to my daughter?” Now it was his turn for his face to flush, not realizing how forward his question was without context.

“Oh, of course.” She beamed, pulling out her phone. “Just give me your number and I’ll shoot you a quick text with my work phone number and email.”

John gave her his number, watching her intently, studying her movements as she typed away at her phone. He watched the way her eyebrows furrowed in slight concentration and the way her teeth pulled at her plump, painted lips.

“There we go.” Candace smiled at John after looking up from her phone, a light ‘ding’ sounding from John’s phone. “Don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions or concerns regarding Jenny! Bye, now!” She turned to walk away with a small wave, making her way up the stairs. 

John stared at the new message in his phone for a beat, admiring the new contact he has yet to officially add to his list. He knew it was going to be strictly professional, parent-teacher conversations, but the man couldn’t help but let his mind wander. Sweet good morning texts and dates set, his imagination leading himself into the deep end.

He needed to have that conversation with his wife, he wanted a divorce. He couldn’t stand being left out of dry, waiting around for her to finally change her mind. His interaction with another woman has opened his eyes wide, he didn’t deserve this kind of treatment from the woman he loved for ten years. He’d been the best father and husband he knew how to be, she betrayed his and their children’s trust. 

He wanted out, he didn’t care to be second any longer. She gets to have her cake and eat it too, just like John deserves as well. He gets to finally have fun.

[zhongrin]

🎁 ᴢʜᴏɴɢʀɪɴ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ᴡʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ 🫶🏻

ー just a little thing i wanted to make as the year ends 💗

𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 💍

① 👑 zhongli 👑 ✼ best husband, best comfort f/o, best everything. my ultimate blorbo 🧡

② al haitham 🌱 & wriothesley 🐾 ✼ he's such a silly guy. i love him so much. ✼ who's a good puppy! who's the goodest boy! yes you areeee~! <3

ⓧ runner up // neuvillette 🦦 ✼ his en voice almost made me simp. almost. damn you ray chase /lh

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 🎶

ー✼ the ebg back in february and october! so so so so much chaos fun! both took all the creative juices and sleep i had, but it was all so worth it! i got to connect with more people and interactions were off the charts for the whole week. and coviello... my precious babie <3 i'm pretty sure i'll join another ebg next year given the opportunity.... or perhaps even host one, but with a twist-

ー✼ got matched up T W I C E (well, thrice in total) with mr. i am here's alternate universe selves al haitham. thanks @/ansy-tea / @/kopidense 👍🏻 i shall endeavor to make an effort to discombobulate and fool the silly sprout man in 2024 if there are any other matchup events open lmao

ー✼ teyvatweets! it was so much fun compiling everyone's tweets and coding the website hehe it didn't really blow up or anything due to how 'personal' that project was, but i think about it from time to time. such a fun lil thing!

ー✼ that 1 pity c0 al haitham who came right after ayato.... thanks dad for gracing me with your birthday luck 🙏🏻

ー✼ finally treating myself and indulging in all the selfship commissions. i'm grateful i have the ability to indulge and i'm hoping to do the same next year. and the way everyone just gifted me things for my birthday made me feel so so loved. i couldn't celebrate it with anyone since i wasn't at home, and it was on a weekday meaning my friends were all busy - so it felt like a mini-party... truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much ;w;

ー✼ personally, i'm super happy and kind of proud of getting very comfortable with sharing my art and improving on it! i used to go back and forth whenever i'm trying to post art, but now i'm confident enough to not think too much about it! naturally i have lots to improve and i'm nowhere near 'good' but that's fine with me! i owe it all to yall's support and lovely comments <3

ー✼ all the anon drabbles and charanons!!!! always such a nice sight to wake up to. they're like surprise gifts whenever i open tumblr because i don't have notifications on, and i adore them so much! big big big shoutout to @/floraldresvi, @/crystalflygeo, and @/soleillunne yall are amazing ;w;

ー✼ all the super sweet messages all of you left in my christmas tree.... i'm cradling all the wishes and silliness and messages from my f/os so close to my heart!! ceo!haitham tho. bruh you're still making me work LEAVE ME ALONE- /silly

ー✼ that zhongli birthday celebration series... they're not much, and even with all posts combined they have way less notes than a random vent drabble i dropped in the middle of it lol but i had lots of fun writing, designing, and inserting all the 'golden threads' across the fics nonetheless!! i'll highlight them later so the people who have been following the little series can go 'OH' lol

𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 🫂

@ainescribe ❀ @silentmoths ❀ @crystalflygeo ❀ @moraxsthrone ❀ @floraldresvi ❀ @sheepmc ❀ @zhxngii ❀ @localplaguenurse ❀ @mysnowmanandmebaby ❀ @the-travelling-witch ❀ @watatsumiis ❀ @kurikurikurisu ❀ @leftdestiny-posts ❀ @kaeffeinee ❀ @queen-belial ❀ @abyssmal-skies ❀ @dawndelion-winery ❀ @yinyinggie ❀ @silkjade ❀ @dustofthedailylife ❀ @scarasmood

@euniveve ❀ @soleillunne ❀ @faesther ❀ @ansy-tea ❀ @vennnnn-diagram ❀ @navxry ❀ @celestetalkstoomuch ❀ @minhosairfryer ❀ @xeraeus ❀ @pearlywritings ❀ @ryuryuryuyurboat ❀ @mochinon-yah ❀ @asoulsreverie ❀ @xiaosonlybeloved ❀ @mooncreates ❀ @jingyuansbird ❀ @tearskillstardust

i love you all and i'm so so glad to have made a connection with you! be it knowing each other from mutual friends, from a drawing/writing commission, or even if we just stumbled onto each other randomly by pure chance - know that i appreciate you! every single one of you are so talented and so wonderful. thank you for being the threads that shaped the comfy sweater that is 2023 for me <3 ps. and for my former moots who are minors but have respected my boundaries, i'm sorry i didn't tag you but i had fun befriending you lot. my best wishes for you in the years ahead too! pps. some of you might know me from my main @/meimeimeirin instead! i separated the list into 2 paragraphs bc tumblr isn't letting me have that many texts in one block apparently hsldfjsd also, if you're not in the list i either 1) forgot, bc i have the memory of a goldfish, or 2) remembered, but felt like it would be intrusive for me to tag you <- (more likely tbh) 😔

@/jjovin3221, @/starffox, @/syrenkitsune, @/finleyrambles, @/dr-birb, @/smokipoki, @/1117sblog, @/virdiaura, @/lawnfei, @/lady-alexis-salt, @/local-ragamuffin, @/the-knaves-world, @/alhaithams-fanfic-stash, @/interpretpages, @/magicalink, @/starlingcore, @/lyralibra, @/crazyrichdaughter, @/winterhuntsman, @/ladycoleigh, @/bettybeako

ALSO, HUGE SHOUTOUT to the people who frequent my notifs. i can't remember most of yall's handles accurately (and for some of you i remember by your pfp instead hskdhskd) but whenever your username pops up, know that i always go "!!!!!" and my imaginative dog ears perks up and my metaphorical tail just starts thumping on the floor <3 thank you so much for your continuous support!! (and i know some of you wrote in my tree so thank you for that too hehe) note: that wasn't an exhaustive list, but more like the blogs i remember seeing a lot on top of my head!!

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 🧡

thank you for such a lovely 2023! thank you for being here and for always supporting my works, my silliness, and myself as a person. here's to more fun shenanigans ahead, and i hope 2024 will be a year that makes us all a better person <3

ꕥ xmas dividers © cafekitsune

[monpalace]

ships .. (ocarina of time/majora's mask) link/reader, (linked universe) time/reader.

content .. it's only natural you search for your nephew after he enters the lost woods on a dare. you can't have a problem with the hand dealt to you when the beast who gives you shelter is so kind.

warnings .. no beta, we die like the promise i made to finish this before the summer after my junior year ended (i started this in april, it's august). i didn't know where i was going with this after a certain point and i think that's obvious. reader uses she/her pronouns. large, legal age gap (reader is in her 30's - 40's, time is a few hundred years old). less of a fic and more snippets, but it's almost 7.5k+ words. i don't think i explicitly say which link it is, so i guess it's ambiguous? nephew is named because this would be a pain to write otherwise.

notes .. prompted (not inspired!!) by beauty and the beast, but also the batb fanfic i found after my friend showed my an nsfw ao3 tag account on twitter. beelzebub / lord of the flies from fear and hunger was a huge inspo for link / time's physical description but there is leeway for how he can be envisioned. he's still large as shit though lmao. the layout of the manor was this, only because i wouldn't be able to write this without knowing.

supposedly there's gonna be a second part. supposedly.

idk. i might hate this enough to just. not.

The Lost Woods wasn't as intimidating as everyone talked it up to be.

Yes, it felt like the trees moved when you turned your back to them, and, granted, there were a few mobs of monsters that could get the jump on you if you weren't paying attention, but you had managed to get away with a few scrapes the few times it had happened.

The only thing to keep you company was the howling winds that grew in intensity and your own thoughts that were sprawling into whatever corners they could reach, but that was fine. You'd gratefully take decades-old gossip from the next town over instead of the creeping paranoia of what was behind you.

Of course, you would willingly go through this, that, and whatever else one thousand times over if it meant finding your nephew— and to keep yourself from reprimanding yourself from reprimanding the teens that had dared him out into the woods, but that was another thing.

Along your investigation, you'd found a broken trail of breadcrumbs that led to nothing when you followed them. They were torn pieces of fabric from his clothes, just big enough to be noticeable but small enough to keep himself protected from the elements.

(You'll forever be thankful that a younger your drilled the idea into his head.)

You'd long since discovered calling his name was useless. The only thing you've managed to do was draw the attention of a few wandering stalfos dressed in clothes from centuries ago.

The ones that had managed to find weapons were always the most painful to deal with.

If your determination weren't so established, you would've lost your sanity within the first day.

Food and water were no issue, you were smart enough to pack more than a week's worth of both. There were non-perishable options and several choices for your nephew when you found him; he'd no doubt have his fair share of cravings after being lost for so long.

(Three days was an eternity to you.)

Just before the sun had reached its crest in the sky, you'd realized that there were more empty clearings than trees. Wildlife had become scarce as well.

Where deers and wolves previously ran abundant, birds and squirrels that ran from the smallest of noises replaced them.

The wind had calmed, at least. It no longer wanted to push and shove you in whatever direction it pleased or steal the bag full of items you brought along. You didn't have to hug your sweater to your chest in fear of it being ripped from your arms either.

Instead, it was still.

Admittedly, the clearing gives you more paranoia than anything else.

When your mind starts to wander to places you'd rather it not reach, you begin to hum a quiet tune to yourself— your nephew's favorite— and allow it to ground you.

You were here for a reason. You wouldn't leave until you found him. You'll be fine until you find him, and you'll find some way to live in the forest that refuses to let its inhabitants go peacefully.

It's hours later when you hear the first sound of life (or suspended death) that doesn't feel like a threat— though, in hindsight, you should've been smarter and more suspicious of it when you first heard it.

A high-pitched instrument repeats each croon you let out, eventually taking over and silencing you. You follow the tune without much of a thought. If it were some sort of elaborate trap to lure you in, you couldn't be mad at yourself if you fell for it.

Clusters of trees become less and less as you follow the instrument and its recreation of your nephew's song. You call his name and are met with nothing but the music (from an ocarina, you quickly recognize) growing louder as time passes.

To say you're shocked when a large and, admittedly, well-kept manor enters your field of view would be an understatement. It's covered in vines, invasive arrowroots, and spreading flowers, but looks lived in if the smoldering smoke slowly dissipating in the afternoon air was anything to go by.

You couldn't begin to imagine who lived inside before the woods took it over (or what lived in it now). The architecture says it predates the Hero split in four, but you doubted the inhabitants of the floating sky built something so elaborate when they returned to the surface.

Your eyes jump past the crumbling pillars and dilapidated statues to the half-glass double doors that seemed to open on their own.

The music was coming from inside the manor now.

Steeling your nerves and squaring your shoulders, your hand grips tight on the strap of your satchel as you walk up the stone stairs covered in moss. You have to hold onto the guardrail installed next to it just as tight. Looking down, you find the carvings of it sorely separating it from the older antiquity of the manor.

Taking in smaller details (for future escapes or weapons against whatever lived inside, you'd figure out later), you find that the small pools of water that came from the sides of the manor and ran and fell alongside the stairs you climbed held small clumps of straw-colored fur. Some caused the surrounding water to turn into a pink hue that reminded you of fairies you've seen in childrens' books.

(Your hand reaches into the satchel to make sure you brought all of your nephew's well-loved books as well as a novel or two for yourself.)

(You did, thankfully.)

There's a smell filled with musk that permeates the air the closer you get to the manor, thick with amber and ginger and it reminds you of the times you come across a pack of wolves during your childhood.

Upon entering the manor, you find it was strongest in the wing of the manor to your right. It took over almost the entirety of your senses, but it wasn't an unwelcome or overwhelming sensation. If you paid close enough attention, you could sense the homely feeling underneath the ferality of it.

You prayed you'd be able to tell when the beast returned; if it was gone in the first place.

You take close note of how the foyer wasn't truly a foyer with how it was filled with windows rather than walls that led to a courtyard and how the only way to enter the wings of the manor was the winded stairs that connected via the terrace.

You don't fail to notice how the wing coated in the musky scent is coated entirely in shadows despite all the sources of light.

You couldn't decide if you were thankful or filled with loathing at the idea of what roamed on that side of the manor.

It's a struggle to turn your eyes away from the darkened wing of the manor, but you do manage when the music picks up once more from the left wing. It's significantly brighter and doesn't fill you with a sense of dread as the right one does.

Trap be damned, your nephew was here, you knew it— you felt it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, you find that you're inside a parlor room that leads to three other pathways. One was a library, another was a dining room, and the last was a small hallway.

In any other situation, you'd explore some more. The supposed beast that possibly lived in the manor kept everything in better shape than what you'd expect— or hopefully it was the forest spirits that lived throughout the forest.

Hopefully, those same spirits kept your nephew safe.

You have to close your eyes to better determine where the music is coming from, the only thing you can hear beside it and your own breathing being the manor settling. Your ears guide you inside the hall and you find it branches into a corridor, a bathroom, and two bedrooms.

Common sense seems to leave you when you spot the back of your nephew's head. Your breath quickens as you watch him clap along with the ocarina, you force your eyes to keep their clarity when you hear him hum each note just as you remember.

"''ire," you call in a weaker voice than you intended or thought you had. The nickname he claimed he hated so much tumbled from your lips so easily as you rushed inside the room, one arm rushing to remove your satchel while the other reached out to almost check if he was real.

The Lost Woods were known for their tricks, after all.

When he turns to face you, he's scrambling over himself in the bed. You're able to see how he limps on his right ankle and knee, how the entirety of his limbs were wrapped in bandage wrap as though done by a child. There was no blood, so you hold off on checking him over.

(The bandages were stained, thankfully not with blood. It was mostly dust and grime.)

(You'd have to sanitize whatever was wrong.)

You meet him more than halfway when you catch the way he winces and hisses with each movement.

"Auntie— Auntie— Titi!" His voice is airy as he speaks, emotion causing his words to come out as chokes. His arms reciprocated the tight hug you had on him, forcibly keeping his arms from trembling due to either nerves or injuries. "Titi, Titi, Titi!"

The way he says the word makes him sound like some chittering bug. If you listened hard enough, you could tell how his teeth clattered together, but you couldn't decipher if it was from a chill or emotion.

All you wanted to do was keep his head against the crook of your shoulder and neck while you pressed kisses to the crown of his head and kept him as close to you as you could, but you knew better.

Pulling away, you reach back for the satchel that you previously discarded. "What's wrong? What happened?" You force your voice to even out when you speak, hands already reaching for his arms after you sit the bag against your hip.

He shakes his head, but you've known him long enough to know there was something wrong. "They're from when I first went in the forest," he answers, voice quivering. "It's all healed. I think."

He doesn't push your hands away or pull his arms back when you skillfully unravel the bandages, carefully pulling and prodding the scars that littered the skin, and he was telling the truth despite the coloring.

"Did you forage like I taught you? Why are most of them green?"

"The spirits."

"The spirits?"

"And the soldier." He looks over your shoulder as though searching for their figures. "I haven't seen him yet, though."

Your eyes squint as one of your hands rubs over the strange texture of the scar, the other reaching for the antiseptic and clean fabric in your bag. "Are these spirits children or small trees with masks?"

You'd heard of both in legend. No one's ever seen them.

You're not sure which you'd rather watch over your nephew.

His eyes drift to his side before peering back over your shoulder once again. His brows furrow as he thinks of how to answer, head tilting as his pupils dilate.

"Both," he answers, "and ones that look like scarecrows. I asked them to bring you."

You force your gaze to keep itself on your nephew. You wouldn't let it wander to spirits you couldn't even see. "The ocarina?" You instead ask another question jumping around your mind, sucking your tongue in appreciation when he nods. "Smart boy."

An airy laugh leaves him, his face lighting up with a smile. "Learned from the best," he snorts.

You risk pressing kisses to the apples of his cheeks and forehead at his flattery, hands cupping themselves on the nape of his neck to bring him closer.

A younger him would push you away without a second thought, whining on about how you were embarrassing him in front of his friends.

He lets you do so now regardless of the spirits that surround you both.

"What've you been eating?" Your hands drop to his biceps when you pull away. They weren't thin like you'd expect them to be after three days in the forest; they were fatter than they had been before he left. "Who's been feeding you?"

His answer of "the Soldier," is quicker than you would've liked. "He goes out and hunts. He always brings back meat. I think it's deer.. it tastes.. bland."

"He.. cooks it, right?"

Another laugh wracks through your nephew's body. He knows you're only being cautious, but he can't help it.

"All the way through," he hums, flexing his arms when they start feeling stiff. "I think I don't like it because it's not your cooking."

He knows what your response is going to be before he finishes speaking, years of having lived under your guidance making him attuned to the smallest of your movements.

When your expression shifts from being relieved to disappointment with a twitch of your eye, he can tell you're not pleased with his statement.

Dousing the fabric in the antiseptic, you take his arm in your hand and begin wiping it down. "Don't be rude." Your voice takes on a less-than-pleased rasp, speaking lowly as if you knew the Soldier was near; but you still apologize when the sting sets in. "Have you thanked him?"

(You're sure you would continue to speak quietly regardless of the context of the conversation. You didn't want to risk "the Soldier," doing anything unfavorable.)

(Your nephew's words of praise did little to ease your stressed heart.)

"I never know when he's here. He drops the food off while I'm asleep. He brings books and carvings too." He watches as you wrap his arm in another roll of (cleaner) bandages, undoing the old one on his other arm while you prepare another piece of fabric. "The Spirits say I'm the most excitement he's had in a while, so he doesn't mind."

His voice was beginning to grow hoarse from speaking so quietly. You tap his throat to tell him to relax.

"They say he's nice," he continues, doing as told. Tapping the fingers of his now free hand against your shin, he tries to recall what all they've told him.

"I think they said he used to live in another part of the woods when he was a kid?—" His eyes glance back over your shoulder, suddenly becoming sure of himself. "— Ah. They did. They said he left and came back when he was older."

You raise a brow but don't speak your question.

Your nephew takes hold of your retreating hands in both of his.

A clatter and snippy huff outside the bedroom door rouses you from your light sleep.

Nearing a week into your stay at the manor, you'd think you'd be more accustomed to the noise, but you aren't.

You carefully remove your nephew's head from your arm, using even more caution when trying to remove the conjoined weight of several spirits from your legs as you slip out of the bed.

It's hard, but you manage to do so without waking any of them— you hope.

(You still couldn't see any of the Spirits, but over time you could feel when they crowded around you and when the wind moved as they rushed past you.)

The floorboards creak beneath your feet.

You hear the sound of claws scratching against the floor on the other side of the door.

Pressing the crown of your head against the door, you tap your fingers along the handle to give the Soldier a warning and wait a few moments.

If you listened hard enough, you swear you could hear him scurrying into one of the other rooms before he shut the door behind him.

It reminded you of a dog.

Smiling to yourself, you're careful opening the door, keeping your head to it and your eyes on the floor. You turn to the other side of it to close it, waiting for the click of the lockset to speak.

"Are you decent?"

His confused "huh," sounds more akin to a gasp than any other noise.

You rap your fingers against the handle again. "Can I look up?"

"Oh—" he sounds choked. "Yeah— Yes. Yes. You can. Sorry."

"Thank you," you hum, leaning down to pick up the tray of food. It consisted of almost entirely meat with a few vegetables you figure are exclusive to the woods. "For both the food and taking care of my nephew."

There was a thumping noise behind the door, the frequency of it was like a tail beating excitedly.

The Soldier lets out a croaking noise and you know his mouth started moving before his mind was able to catch up. "No, I should thank you for looking for him— and for telling him not to use his name."

You let out an airy laugh. "It's common knowledge where I'm from. I wouldn't be a good parental figure if I didn't."

Another noise leaves the Soldier as you fix yourself to open the door. You can't discern what this one means. "I don't know when they started calling me the Soldier, but it's not— uhm.. A favorite.. of mine."

"Oh?"

"Soldier," he sounds more confident in himself and you don't have the heart to tell him you heard him the first time, "it's a nickname. I don't know where the kids got it, but I don't like it."

Readjusting the tray to rest against your hip and forearm rather than in both your hands, you hum curiously. "So what should we be calling you?"

He pauses longer than you'd think it'd take to remember your own name, but you wait.

"Link."

"Link?"

"Yes."

"Like in a chain?"

".. Yes."

You nod even though you're sure he can't see you. "I'll be sure to tell 'ire."

"Thank you." There's more thumping from behind the door.

"And thank you."

There's another noise from Link you struggle to understand, but you figure it's because he starves for conversation. "I heard what your nephew said about the food, too. I'll try to find something to flavor it with next time I'm out."

"Thank you," you repeat. Your eyes curve with your smile. "He'll greatly appreciate it."

Link raps his fingers against the door in response, but he doesn't say anything. You take that as your queue to reenter the bedroom.

"How come your side of the house is always dark?"

You gently pinch your nephew's elbow and he swats your hand away, leaning impossibly close to the door that separates him and Link.

There are a few moments of silence from the man that 'ire filled with bated breath. Link takes an audible, steadying breath before knocking what you think is his nail against the door.

"I wouldn't want to scare you both off."

It was an answer you expected, but you were disappointed nonetheless.

"Boo," your nephew groans. You're sure Link could hear the pout in his voice if the quiet chuckle he lets out was anything to go by. "You can't be worse than what I've seen out there."

There's genuine intrigue in the noise Link lets out. "Oh? What exactly have you seen then?"

Pure excitement fills your nephew's expression when he turns to look at you from over his shoulder. His fingers tap against the floor restlessly, tongue already listing off whatever monsters he's encountered (read: come up with) in his twelve years of life.

"— but their teeth are the worst! They're poisonous and there isn't a cure for it!"

You have no clue as to what creature he was talking of now. There were at least fifteen of them who injected poison through their teeth, eight of which had no cure.

(You don't have to strain as hard to see the Spirits as you did two weeks ago. The shadows and light shift around then as they move to sit around your nephew, seemingly hooked on your nephew's every word.)

(You remember when he would crowd himself around you similarly whenever you would tell him a story.)

You close the book that sat in your lap more for decoration than entertainment at that point and place a hand over your heart.

"I drew a lot of them too! My aunt brought them with her!" He pushes himself through the motions of standing up before immediately stopping and returning to his seat in front of the door. "I'll show them to you if you eat dinner with us!"

There are a few stammering noises from the other side of the door and yet you can't bring yourself to apologize for your nephew's bargaining.

Your own curiosity was quickly starting to get the better of you against your wishes.

The noise he had made several nights before makes itself heard again. His claws (you discovered those a few nights ago) scratch against the wooden flooring as he moves to sit against the other wall rather than the door, his voice moving with him.

"I don't want to— I wouldn't want— want to disturb you— either of you." His words are muffled by the door and his growing quietness, a  regretful lilt stuck in his throat. "But thank you for the offer."

If he truly didn't want to join you and your nephew (and the spirits) for dinner, he was terrible at showing it.

"I know I wouldn't mind," you hum, standing to put away the book. A loud thumping makes the floor vibrate and 'ire has to stifle a laugh. "I wouldn't mind picking up a pot and pan again either."

"No!" Link quickly apologizes for his tone after realizing his outburst. "You don't have to. I wouldn't be a good host if I made you do that."

"Are you scared I'll poison you?"

Your nephew's voice drops to a whisper he swears you won't be able to hear. "She can't. She's the best cook ever."

You're not sure how the two correlate, but you'd take thew compliment.

"She won't?" Link's voice drops to entertain your nephew despite his earlier convictions. It takes on a playful direction, fur rubbing against the wood-tiled floors in excitement (based on prior interactions). "You've never gotten sick? Not once?"

'ire begins to shake his head but quickly stops. "Only from eating too much— which you will do, by the way. Best cook around," he reiterates.

Link chuckles, tapping his fingers against the floor restlessly. It takes him a moment to come up with something to say and neither of you push him to hurry.

You were both too hooked on his every word to do so anyway.

"I'll.." He's shy for all the attention. You wonder when the last time he got so much focus on him outside of the spirits. ".. I'll be sure to think about your offer. Why don't you tell me about a few of your monsters so I have more of an incentive?"

Your nephew jumps on the opportunity while you think over the plethora of recipes in your mind.

It wasn't rare for one of the imps to accompany you outside when you went foraging.

You never strayed too far from the manor— the last time you had been dragged outside of the area you had designated for yourself (and your nephew) by the children, Link had to come and rescue to lot of you before the sun had gotten too low.

Suffice to say, it was a rather humbling experience.

Kneeling, squatting, or sitting on the ground had never been easy on your knees or back, but the grass below you had felt as though it were a pillow hailing from the Heavens itself.

Your body works on picking herbs from the ground before placing them in your bag repurposed for your (new) everyday tasks while your mind wanders elsewhere.

You're humming to yourself when a twig snapping breaks your focus.

It was a nice reminder that the imps hadn't, in fact, accompanied you that day.

Your head lifts to survey the surrounding woods. Your entire body was still, mimicking a deer caught on a hunting trip.

There was nothing immediately in your line of sight that could be seen as a threat, but you had lived a long enough life to know that wasn't enough reason to let your guard down.

You're slow to rise to your feet and your ears are strained as you listen for whatever had made the noise.

"I'm sorry!"

You can feel your body relax when you hear Link's voice call out from behind a tree. You sink back to your knees without much thought, clutching the fabric of your top to calm your battering heart.

You weren't sure what you were going to do if it were an actual danger anyway.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he continues. His arms move and you can see one drop against the side of a tree while the other tightens around the corpse of an animal. "You were so still, I wasn't sure if you were okay."

A quiet, breathless noise leaves you. You're not sure if he could hear it, but you can see his shoulders relax when you do. "You're— You're fine! I just.. didn't know that you'd be out and about at this time."

When the hand not occupied with that week's dinner (barely) lifts to grab ahold of a tree branch, you're shocked to just now find out how tall he is.

"It's not your fault. I didn't know you were out here," he grunts while gently tugging at the branch. "Are you alone?"

Your eyes drop to the flora that surrounds you to not feel so invasive. Your fingers rub against the blades of grass idly when a restless feeling overtakes you. "A few of the kids said they'd join me later, but I'm not too sure when that's supposed to be." A short, genuine laugh leaves you. "I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot."

Link lets out his own, quiet laughter that you can only clue together when you see the entire tree shake in your peripheral. "I wouldn't take it to heart. They say they'll join me in hunting all the time but never do."

"Have you ever given them a stern talking to? I've heard that usually works with spirits."

"They barely listen to me as is. I think you'd have more luck than me."

"Is that an offer?"

"Are you headed home now?"

A strange vice tightens around your heart at his wording while you look through your bag. "Mhm," you hum, standing now that your legs aren't like that of a newborn. "You'll have to remind me of the way, though."

"I can guide you," he hums in reply. "You just can't look back."

Turning your back to him, you're surprised you don't jump when a sharp claw gives a ghostly touch to the center of your back.

You're shocked that you disregard the urge to check over your shoulder every step back to the manor.

You were no stranger to 'ire's night terrors.

They'd gotten better over the past few years as he aged, but all that progress had been undone during the near month you'd been in the forest.

Wiping away the tears that had managed to slip out, you ignore the prickly and uncomfortable feeling that comes with keeping your lulling head up so you can watch him.

You'd done it a thousand times before and would do it one thousand and one more if it meant he felt better.

You don't miss how his grip on your arm tightens when you start humming his favorite song. Your hand trails up to his hairline, nails (claws?) tracing the paint on his face that refused to fade.

You'd spent so long trying to scrub them and the green marks off, you hadn't even realized his skin had started to pale into a sickly grey in patches while darkening into (what looked like) a necrotic black in others.

You didn't even want to think about the changes that had started coming to your body.

You were, however, thankful you weren't thinning into a stalfos.

"You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think."

"How'd you know?"

"I have a young nephew. You learn quickly."

A brief laugh leaves Link from behind the cracked door. Though you didn't face him, you could see the way his eyes illuminated the wall in front of you, even managed to catch on some of 'ire's face.

It was a pretty blue color.

You don't comment on it.

"What's wrong?" Your voice has a deep rasp to it, your hand continuing to stroke your nephew's face even after he begins to calm down.

He'd slowly begun dropping more and more barriers (physical and mental) when it came to communicating with you both, having taken up shadows in their stead. He had gotten more confident in conversation as well, stammering and stuttering less the longer your nephew forced him to talk.

It makes you wonder how long it'd take for him to finally make true on those dinner plans.

"I heard him," Link hums just as quietly, the glow of his eyes moving to instead look over the sleeping spirits that crowded themselves around the space not occupied on the bed. "I was worried. Do you want help with them?"

A soft laugh leaves you when one of the imps buries their head onto your calf as though it were a pillow. "They've been like this since we first got here. 'ire," you press a kiss to his forehead when he rouses, waiting for him to settle before speaking again, "says they like to cling."

"You don't mind?"

"He's not too far off from them nowadays."

"Does he miss anything?"

Laying on your back, you being 'ire's head to rest against your shoulder. Your gaze is finally able to see how he'd take up all of the doorway (and then some) through the crack of the door.

You'd be shocked he hadn't flinched away if it hadn't been for the way his hand reached out to clasp it.

The tips of his fingers reached well past the frame of the door, his claws further, and you could only imagine just how much space he was taking up in the small hallway.

You were confident he could fit five or six of you in his hand without trying.

Your eyes jump back to the three (possibly four?) eyes before he can become self-conscious.

"Almost everything," you answer after pulling yourself from your thoughts. "His clothes, his dolls.. He could go without his friends, though."

His eyes jump from your face to the window as he huffs out a nervous laugh. It makes you wonder if he knows something you don't, but you don't push. "And you?"

"Hmm?"

"And yourself," he clarifies, "what do you miss?"

You're silent.

What exactly did you miss?

The feeling of your village's grass between your toes after the rain, the baker's treats that no other could replicate, being a part of such a tight-knit community, the sun after a particularly muggy morning—

There wasn't any need to be a sap.

"I'm not sure," you finally say after a long period of silence. You hadn't realized your eyes had left Link, yet when you force your gaze back to him, he holds it without issue. "I struggled with becoming attached to things unlike 'ire."

"Hm."

"What?"

"I can't remember the last time someone said something like that."

"You have visitors like us often?"

"More than you'd think."

"And what's become of them?"

The glow of his eyes drops to the sleeping spirits that litter before looking to the window again and you quickly understand.

The hum that leaves your throat is more lackluster than you intended it to be, but given how quickly the topic had changed, you give yourself the grace.

"Well," you start after clearing your throat, "what's something that you miss?"

The manor creaks when Link leans against a wall and his confidence in the movement tells you more than you'd expected.

You don't think you'd ever have the same amount of trust he held in it.

There's a playful tone in his voice when he speaks, one of his hands raised to scratch against his chin. "You'd have to promise not to be dramatic when I say."

"Is it my fault you use such outdated terms thousands of years behind my time?"

Link turns away to stifle his laughter, shrouding the room in darkness and forcing your eyes to strain with it.

"I can't say I've had the easiest experience understanding you or your nephew's sayings," he hums, drowning you in the light of his eye when he turns back, "the kids have to keep filling me in."

"Shame, and here I thought you'd been closer to my age. Have you been leading me on this entire time?"

Link's claws knock against the wall, his tail wagging against the floor while he huffs his amusement. "Have I? When I don't even know your name?"

If the weight of 'ire wasn't on your shoulder, you're sure you would've had a physical reaction of some sort.

"It'd do you good to not forget it," he hums, the movement of his tail slowing until it stops entirely. "Titi and Auntie, as much as I hate to say it, won't do much good."

Another lackluster noise leaves you as the arm trapped underneath your nephew lifts to rub your thumb during his forehead. "How fun."

"The kids are too attached to do anything now." The door slowly creaks open before stopping. It shuts so there's only a crack instead. "You'll be fine to share your name now."

"You never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"I haven't asked a lot," you huff before taking a softer tone, eyes rolling closed. "What is it that you miss?"

Link quietly snorts, muffling it by pressing his face to the door. He takes a steadying breath before saying a quiet, "a lot, I suppose. I can't name just a few things." A low noise leaves him, it's similar to a growl. "My friends? Playing music as well— my hands aren't good for much but skewering these days. My horse, Epona, too. She was the prettiest mare."

"Is she red with a white mane?"

"You saw the kids' drawings?"

"I've seen her before, I think— or maybe it was a hallucination?" The hand stroking 'ire's forehead stops as you scrounge your memories. "When I saw her outside the forest, I knew it was real. Another fated hero was mounting her."

You'd like to think yourself a master of figuring out what each noise he makes is meant to mean, but the one Link lets out once you finish speaking is short and of a higher pitch than normal.

When he begins to stammer over his words as he had when you first interacted with him, it feels like years' worth of progress has been undone.

"I— uhm— You— I don't— err— Thank—"

His tail thumps three times before he knocks his head against the door with a heavy groan. He lets out a quiet "Hylia, be damned," you couldn't help but think he hoped you wouldn't hear to go along with his frustration.

"It's been a long night," you finally prompt. "You'd best get some shut-eye before 'ire bombards you with more from his imagination, yeah?"

"Yeah," Link answers in a weak voice. "Yeah," he repeats to himself more than anything, "of course. Good night," he steps away from the door. "Sleep well."

"Same for you."

The night Link finally takes you and 'ire up on your offer for dinner, your nephew and the spirits had taken to floating around the east wing's dining room to prepare it for such a grand event.

"Titi, titi!" One of the Kokiri exclaims, tugging at the fabric of your skirt (that Link had made out of a spare bedsheet). Her voice had a strange echo to it— all of them, really— and had given you migraines up until you'd finally become accustomed to it. "'ire says that you'll make your world-famous pudding! Will you? Will you?"

You ignore her exaggeration in favor of forcing yourself to wrench your eyes away unless you wanted her puppy dog face to work on you. "Should I? I.. I can't say any of you have been acting well enough to deserve it.."

Even in your peripheral, it's not hard to miss the absolutely crushed look on her face. Her eyes were wide and her bottom lip wobbling like she was about to cry despite your joking tone.

"But why—y," she whines, dragging the last syllable on while hiccuping on her breath as she went on. You know the tears pooling in her eyes are just as fake as your rejection of her request— but you know just as well who'll win the battle at the end of the day.

"I—" hiccup. "Want—" hiccup. "Cake—" hiccup.

You raise a brow. "Pudding or cake, sweetheart? I can't make both."

The girl begins to climb your back while you return to sautéing the vegetables, arms wrapping around your neck so she can press her cheek against yours. "Cake! No, pudding! No! Cake! No—"

"I'll tell you what," you interrupt, taking the pan from over the open flame once the food is charred to your liking. Your skin thanks you when you step away and douse the fire, the arid air leaving through the open window. "Why don't you ask a few of the others which they want then we can try and get Link to bake it after dinner?"

The girl jumps off your back with stars practically filling her eyes. She cries out for several names while she runs off, hands clapping excitedly as she shouts out the change in plans.

You're left in peace until your nephew enters with his journals clutched between his arms, bouncing between his feet while he watches you finish plating each food item on dishes you could only dream of owning where you're from.

"D'you think he'll come?" 'ire's voice is low, almost as though scared Link will hear. You know he does if the night of his nightmares a few months ago were anything to go by— but he didn't need to know that.

"He'd better," you answer in an equally low tone. "I didn't spend so long slaving away at this just for him not to."

"Is that a threat?"

The plates in your hands aren't spared by the flinch that wracks through your body. Your reflexes are quick to catch them before any of the food can hit the floor.

'ire, on the other hand, has no issue with voicing his shock in the form of a scream, scurrying from the doorway while dropping his journals. He jumps behind you, hands clutching the fabric of your skirt while he hides himself behind your hip.

"Well?"

Placing a hand over your racing heart after putting the plates down, your other hand comes down to rest on 'ire's head. "It's rude to sneak up on people, you know."

The blond fur of his chest rustles with his laughter. It was difficult to see much else other than that, what with the way he hid himself behind the wall connecting the kitchen to the pantry.

You hadn't even heard his footsteps or creaking floorboards when he first approached. Had he been there the entire time and 'ire hadn't seen him, or had he only walked in after 'ire entered?

You wondered if he was naturally quiet or if he just learned which floorboards were loose.

"Is it sneaking when you were expecting me?" Link's voice is lighter than it usually is, a slight tremble could even be heard if you focused on it enough. He rocks on his feet and briefly leans forward, a less organic-looking side profile coming into view before leaving right after. "If I knew I would be this unwelcomed, I—"

"That's a joke, right?" 'ire stomps away from your side while he speaks, stepping over his discarded compilations of works to stare up at Link with wide eyes. Your nephew ignores the way Link's hands raise to cover his face and how he backs away as soon as he pivots in his foot to face him. "You're not actually gonna pansy out, right?"

Your feet lead you to the two before you can have much of a thought. "Zaire," you say in a terse voice, taking hold of his shoulder and bringing him against your front so you can stop him from interrogating the poor man. "Don't be rude."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Whatever argument he has dies on his tongue when he takes a good, long look at Link. His mouth gaped open like a fish, one of his fingers lifting so he could push it into the fur of his stomach, watching the skin beneath sink with the force of it as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Woah."

If you had any less sense of dignity, you'd let yourself have the same reaction.

"Don't be rude," you reiterate, pushing Zaire's hand down until it finally reaches its rightful place at his side.

"No," Link breathes into his palms, clearing his voice to try and rid it of the anxiety (and, possibly, humiliation). "He's— he's fine. This wouldn't be the first time someone responded like that. I'd be more concerned if he did any other way."

Zaire shrugs your hands from your shoulders, stepping until he is toe-to-claw with Link. "Then why are you hiding your face? It can't be that bad," he says, tugging at the fur of Link's elbows, rubbing them between his fingers so he could better be accustomed to the texture.

Spreading his fingers enough so you both could see the four holes in the inorganic material, Link lets out another heavy breath. "I'm self-conscious," he can tell the answer doesn't please Zaire and continues speaking, "It's been.. too long.. since I've shown anyone either of my faces."

"A mask is.." Your voice falters off when you finally find the words to speak, losing them again when you fail to find a proper way to articulate your thoughts.

"It's mostly you and the kids, no?" You try again when you figure out a way to better word it. "Is a mask not.. Is it.. necessary?"

When the blue light that emits from his eyes lifts to look at you, an unidentifiable emotion shoots through you. He holds your gaze for a few, silent moments before turning his head and dropping his hands.

"It's like a second skin," he simply offers.

"Sad," Zaire sighs, backing away and turning until he stood in the center of the kitchen. "Can you still eat with it? Like I said, Auntie is the best cook in all the realms and you have to taste it to believe it."

Curse your nephew's skill of lightening a mood.

Rather than let his insecurities keep him from looking at either of you for the duration of the night, Link looks down at Zaire with a playful jolt of his shoulders. "It's not fused with my face."

Zaire's eyes curl into crescents while he grabs two of the plates from the counter. "Good!" His tail (a terrifying new addition when he first started changing) wraps around the third dish, walking himself past the two of you in the pantry so he could place each one on the dining table. "You'll love this then! Auntie," you don't miss the way he adds your name causally, "always makes this on a big day!"

Link repeats your name under his breath before doing the same with Zaire's. He lets out a thoughtful nod as each one rolls off his tongue, one pair of eyes looking at you while the other continues to follow your nephew.

He wrings his hands together when he catches the way you examined him oh-so-carefully, arms crossed with your head tilted.

"It's nice," he gulps as though every inch of nervousness had reentered his body. "It's a nice name. I like it. It suits you."

You don't know if you were teasing him prior, but you decide to do so now.

"I'd hope so." You pat a hand against his arm as you walk into the kitchen, ignoring the oily feel of his fur. You ignore the feeling of him watching and instead focus on searching through the cupboards for the drink you had foraged around to make just days before. "I could say the exact same for you, thankfully."

"Now, why don't you have a seat so I can play host this time?"

[ofallthingsnasty]

Nasty if you were in the giving mood i would love some hc's or any kind of crumbs you have for evan (and bill too ig hehe) i am obsessed with soft, obsessive, big werewolf baker boy

😭💕eeeeh you're gonna make me blush - i am so happy you like him that much!! he's a precious (albeit absolutely delusional) little dude hehe (bill... well... not so much. but he's there ig lmao)

fic referenced

tw. yandere (and all it entails), forced pregnancy, basement wivery

If you get pregnant with his baby, this man will be over the moon, on cloud nine, overjoyed beyond belief - any way you want to call it, he'll be the happiest he's ever been. The moment you start smelling like him and him alone, he'll burst into genuine tears and just holds you for a long, long time - both apologizing again and again for all the pain he has put you through and telling you how much he loves you. To think that the other week he was only dreaming of keeping you forever and now it's a reality and you're already with child... He feels faint in that moment.

He'll worship the ground walk on, will help you in any way he can with the pregnancy - won't even touch you for the time being, he wants to minimize any stress (and tells himself that pregnant people sometimes lose their sex drive, right? You two were destined to be and you're just trying to be as careful as he is. No, you'll return his affections once the baby is there, he's sure of it.) You'll wake up more than once with him hovering over you, watching you sleep with tears in his eyes - he's so happy, it's unsettling. If it wasn't for the the pesky little fact that this is all against your will, he'd be the perfect partner. But all that sugary sweetness comes at a price. Evan is extremely jealous and territorial. He doesn't want to hurt you but he needs to protect you and the baby. You won't be allowed to go out without him and he isn't above chaining you to the bed, either. With eyes full tears, yes, but he will restrain you if you don't listen to his words. He can't have you running around and getting hurt on accident, he can't stand the thought of something happening to you and the baby (so if you think about sneaking out to get rid of it or try any experiments at home, don't. He'll lose his very last marble if you do and you'd probably end up with a limb less to protect you from yourself.)

He'll do anything for you and the baby - within his delusional reason. If you want to leave town, want to live somewhere else, he has no issue with breaking from his pack (but if you think you get to play in that lovely new garden of the house you just moved into, you're dead wrong. No matter the change of scenery, you'll never breathe fresh air unsupervised again). Others might call him a traitor but you are his number one priority, there is nothing else above you. Which also means that he never leaves the home except for when he has to go work. You're his whole entire world and you fill it perfectly. He only wants one child. Unlike Bill, he just wants the picture-perfect little family with you and one is more than enough for him. Just one to pour all of his love into, to raise right, to enjoy. If you ever have another on accident, he won't mind but if it was up to him, you two would stay one and done. He's a very active father and takes care of his little pup extremely well - even if you grow lethargic because of your situation, your little one will never go without. If you learn how to handle him and how to get used to your new life, it won't be too bad - but things will turn ugly in a heartbeat if you don't. He's definitely one of the worse yanderes to have if you have a defiant streak. Just be good for him, be in love with him and nothing bad will happen. Promise.

[its-actually-minicika]

Would love more headcannons for the Yule Ball fic. Second I need part three of the Yule Ball fic and Aemond realizing he fucked up big time trying to say it's not what it looked like (when it was).

Thank you so much for the ask ^^ more Yule Ball headcanons coming right up! As for part 3 of the series, it should be out next week, or the week after that! Haha, we'll for sure make Aemond sweat a little bit :"))

Headcanons for the HotD!Main Three

(part 2)

Pairings: Jacaerys x Reader, Aemond x Reader, Aegon x Reader;

Warnings: none, this is literally fluff;

Author's Note: As always, we pick up from where we left off - the much anticipated 5th year, that breaks both friendships and hearts alike!

Men Will Have Nothing But The Audacity:

☆ Aemond Targaryen ☆

The beginning of your 5th year at Hogwarts goes on as expected, with the two of you still glued to each other's hip;

Then Aemond decides to start taking more extra classes;

And more extra classes;

And more;

But it's fine, right? You guys will still share Potions, DADA, Herbology, History of Magic... so on and so forth!

Wrong.

As it always happens between two idiots in love, each of you excels in different areas of study, and your 5th year allows you to take more advanced versions of the same class, based on test results and attendance;

Aemond opts for Advanced History of Magic, Arithmancy, Charms and Advanced Potions (same as another strong witch, who's been eyeing him since the end of your 4th year);

You still share Charms and, for a while, try with Potions as well. But that doesn't work out for you;

Aemond is fantastic at it, and you feel as if you keep dragging him down, and frustrate him with your endless questions on homework (and less than stellar perception on the projects you do together);

So you withdraw from Advanced Potions, much to Alys' delight and Aemond's dismay;

Your schedules become so different, that it gets to the point where you guys have a hard time still seeing each other throughout the day;

You make a pact to always meet up at the entrance to your Common Room, to walk to the Great Hall together;

And also make it so you sit next to each other at breakfast, lunch and dinner;

Because Aemond hates the Gryffindor table, you usually give in and dine with the Slytherins;

5th year is a damn good year for Aemond - long gone is the awkward and lanky boy that couldn't stand up for himself;

He becomes wildly popular among all Slytherins - he demands respect in a way you haven't seen before, with his straight posture, chiseled face and silky long hair;

More and more girls try to start conversations with him, but he ignores all of them in favour for you;

When you chastise him for being rude to his housemates, he lowers his eyes and looks almost a bit... disappointed that you would encourage him to talk to other people - to other girls;

"I've enough time to see their insufferable faces in class. ... I can only see you now."

"Haha, I just hope my face is more bearable, then!"

"... You're beautiful. Don't ever doubt that"

He coughs in the back of his hand and resumes his eating with a small blush on his face;

He goes through the same Amorentia experience as Jacaerys - and has to lie on the spot about what it smells like to him LMAO;

(Y/N)'s perfume...? Nah, it's totally fresh mint and old books;

Not vanilla. Or fresh snow. Or nutmeg. Or happiness and sunshines.

IT REALLY DOESN'T STOP LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT;

When his birthday rolls around, his family sends for him to spend it with them, but he refuses, just so he can stay with you;

You sneak outside the castle through a secret passage and go to Hogsmeade together;

And have a battle to the death over who gets to the check first (it must be a birthday miracle, because somehow you manage to pay for the food);

Aemond slips all the money back into the pocket of your trench-coat when you leave, unfortunately, so really, you didn't win;

You'll get him next time.

Near the end of the day, you take him down to the Kitchens and jump on his back to cover his good eye;

You have that lil Ratatouille moment, where you just pull him by the hair to go from left to right;

Oh, this definitely doesn't awaken anything in him btw;

Nothing at all;

Anyway, once you get there, you're greeted by pure darkness;

Until a loud "lumos maxima" is heard, and you yell out a jazzy "SURPRISE" to him;

Aemond doesn't like parties. Or big events. Or crowded rooms etc.

So you only invite Aegon, Helaena and his Quidditch team over;

You and Helaena take care of everything - from the balloons, to the banner and cake;

Aemond is grateful, but he'd much rather have spent the whole day only with you;

Still, your gifts for him leave him speechless: besides a new eyepatch, which you've manually crafted yourself, you gave him a hefty collection of hardcover, SIGNED copies of his favourite history books and a small ticket with your handwriting on it;

"One free wish of your choice (Expiry date: NEVER)"

Gods, he really wants to use it to kiss you;

He's really thinking about it;

But he chickens out on the thought very quickly - you're his best friend, his only friend, and he loves you too much to lose you to a stupid attempt to become something bigger;

But now it's clear he has to one-up you on your birthday, right?

He pulls some strings with the Headmaster and LITERALLY GETS YOU TWO OUT OF SCHOOL FOR 3 DAYS??

God damn you're lucky, he spares no expense and it makes you feel sO BAD IN SUCH A GOOD WAY;

He takes you to one of his family's mansions in London, and you spend the whole weekend together;

He takes you out to a five star Michelin restaurant for the 1st night, and oh my God they literally have ivory and 24k gold plates it makes you SICK;

... You don't look at the check. Your heart can't stand it;

On the second night you spend together, he cooks for you himself and makes the most mouth-watering-toe-curling-deliciously-wicked meal you've ever had in your entire life;

And he looks damn good doing it, too, with his sleeves rolled back and his veins shifting on his hand whenever he made a move;

It's very romantic and you catch yourself thinking that he might just like you too - somewhere into the meal, you're both building up courage to just confess already;

Aemond looks at you deeply in the eyes, and tentatively places a hand over yours. He swallows thickly when he notices how his palm engulfed yours whole;

He opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly someone barges in;

"BABY BROTHER! And hello, beautiful!" Aegon whistles lowly;

"What are you doing here." Aemond assertively demands, now more frustrated than he's ever been his entire life. "You were supposed to be here tomorrow."

"Ah, well, you know me!" Aegon shrugs, "Can't stay away from a good party after all!"

Aemond just lets out a deep growl, and begrudgingly lets go of your hand;

Turns out, your third night at the Targaryen mansion was supposed end with a surprise party, much like you did with Aemond's birthday;

Although it wasn't much of a surprise anymore, the party was still beautiful, and, at the end of the night, Aemond got you a delicate ring, with a faceted sapphire placed in the middle;

"I hope it's to your liking."

"Are you kidding me? Merlin's beard, Aemond...!"

Bonus: During your second year, you ran your hand through Aemond's hair and mused he has the most beautiful hair you've ever seen - from that moment on, he never cut his hair again;

♡ Jacaerys Velaryon (Strong) ♡

Aemond being busy with his advanced classes gives you and Jace the perfect opportunity to become really close friends;

If you thought you saw him enough everyday with with your shared Quidditch practice and identical schedules, you haven't seen anything yet;

The only class you two don't share in your 5th year is Advanced Charms - other than that, you're promptly sitting next to him everyday of the week, no questions asked!

If you thought Aemond is popular with the ladies, you haven't seen anything yet: Jace gets more breath taking with each summer that goes by;

He has a flock of fangirls that squeal whenever he leans back in his chair in class, or lowers his head to eat;

Unlike Aemond, Jace is always going to be a chivalrous gentleman, so he can't find it in him to just ignore them;

He'll take shy pictures with them, and sign their ties with his autograph if they insist on it;

But he'll ALWAYS include you in their convesation - always;

Those poor girls are so annoyed, they ask him something specifically, and Jace just deflects the whole affair by asking your thoughts on the matter;

"So, Jacaerys, are you training hard for the next Quidditch match?"

"Oh, I don't really know - what do you think, (Y/N)? Are we training to our full potential?"

"So, Jace, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Oh, I don't know about that... (Y/N), do I have a girlfriend?"

You tease him for his army of girls endlessly;

He lets you do that to your heart's content, because it makes you laugh and he loves to see you laugh;

Since his epiphany back in 4th year, Jace flirts with you HARD;

It's still very respectful flirting - just like he is -, and he pays very much attention to how you react to his little jokes and compliments, as to not make you uncomfortable;

After he bought that phone to talk to you during that summer break he and his family spent in Denmark, Jace got addicted to all things muggles make;

He 1000% plays video games and is fascinated with anything that phones can do;

Not only does he have the latest model of all things electronic, he convinced his whole family to get iphones - except for his little brothers, Joffrey, Aegon and Viserys, because he read somewhere that phones can stunt emotional growth and exude radiations that are dangerous to small kids;

Once again, Jace is perfect!!

In case you needed the confirmation for that;

Speaking of his phone, Jace's background is with you, smiling sweetly at him during a trip at the beach ya'll took at the end of your 4th year at Hogwarts;

He has Spotify Premium, YouTube Premium, everything premium - and he bought all the subscriptions for you as well;

He has three Spotify Playlists dedicated to you;

Luke cracked into his account and laughed for 2 hours at that;

The titles read out: "Queen of my Heart", "It Hurts so Good to Love You", "One day I'll Marry You";

He made you an extra one for your birthday, and yes, ALL the songs have subliminal meanings behind them;

Speaking of birthday gifts, he bought you the latest model of the Nimbus brand of broomsticks and gave you a very important bracelet - a magical family heirloom, that glows brilliant rays of light when you're in the dark, and produces music THAT MATCHES YOUR CURRENT EMOTION when you shake your wrist about;

These damn rich pure-bloods...

They're too good at giving gifts and making you feel special;

When you found out that the bracelet was something so important to him and his family, you wanted to give it back;

But Jace wouldn't have it, and assured you that his mother gave it to him to do whatever he pleased with it;

What Jacaerys failed to mention is that the heirloom was used by more than 3 generations as a symbol of replacement for an engagement ring;

It just slipped his mind, really (not);

Don't think too much about it;

You didn't relent, however, and just decided to give him a new bracelet of his own - one that he couldn't refuse;

So you braided him a friendship bracelet;

Yeah, you heard me;

You wanted to make a light-hearted joke out of it, but Jace REALLY REALLY appreciated it;

He wears it ALL THE TIME;

From the moment he got it from you, he never took it off;

This boy showers with it;

Sleeps with it;

He takes such good care of it, so that your work doesn't ever come undone;

Aegon is really jealous of that particular friendship band, and constantly bugs you to make him one too;

"When am I gonna get one of those?"

"Never, Aegon."

"PLEASE"

"No way."

Oh, and remember how Jace's position is chaser in your Quidditch team?

He takes his shirt off during practice.

Okay, it's a bit much, but he is DESPERATE AND THRISTY FOR YOU, GIVE HIM A CHANCE;

He blames it on the fact that the effort makes him sweat so much, he doesn't want to ruin a good shirt;

LIES.

Everybody knows he does it for you, but you just think it's fan service for his fangirls;

So, naturally, you tease the shit out of him - looking respectfully, though;

HE IS RIPPED;

Like really, really ripped;

It makes you feel creepy to be ogling him like that, but you're just a hormonal teen too, you can't help it;

Jacaerys may seem like a good guy, but he's far from it. He has a very dark secret that no one else knows...

He does underground trading with the cards he gets from all his chocolate frogs;

DO NOT LAUGH AT HIM HE HAS EVERYONE EXCEPT FOR A GODRIC GRYFFINDOR;

It's quite ironic, really;

He tried to make everyone trade with him, but no one will accept to do that;

It's not as if the founder of house Gryffindor is a rare card - far from it;

But everyone thinks it's too funny to see Jace despair like that;

So it's pretty much a staple rule among the Gryffindors to not trade with him, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES;

During your second Quidditch match of the term, you get pretty roughed up by the Slytherin seeker - you can bet your sweet ass that Jace is there by your side IN SECONDS, peeling the equally stunned Slytherin off you and giving him a rough piece of his mind;

Aegon lowkey joins the chaos as well, yelling at the shivering boy that he'll get an owl from his lawyer to answer for his heinous crime;

Normally, you would find this amusing, were it not for the pain in your wrist and instant migrane;

All three boys end up taking you to the Infirmary and stand by your bedside until your wrist is all wrapped up, and you're okay to leave;

While your wrist was healing, Jace was the one to write down all your notes and homework in order to help you;

Jacaerys is not the most academically inclined person - during his 3d and 4th year, he greatly struggled with Charms and Transfiguration, but that is definitely not the case anymore;

Still, both subjects fall under your area of expertize, and since he's so whipped for you...

Yes, okay, Jacaerys Velaryon pretends he's shit at both so he can get you alone in the library to study together;

It's his main way of flirting - and it's lowkey kinda cute;

Bonus: Jace is the epidome of malewife: he'll cook you muffins from scratch to thank you for whenever you make time to "help" him with his specific problems;

☆ Aegon Targaryen ☆

Another one that flirts relentlessly with you;

Has so much tension with his brother because of it, it's not even funny;

HE WILL LITERALLY PAY YOU FOR A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MAKE HIM ONE;

He got so high once, he confused you with Jennifer Lawrence and started talking about you to you;

It was really funny;

He eventually hit his head while walking up the stairs that day, and ended up in the West Wing for a whole week with a concussion;

You visit him a lot during that time, and try to make sure he's okay;

But he's on a lot of painkillers during the first day, so he doesn't even know who he really is;

"Please take your hands off me, I only let (Y/N) do that...!"

"I am (Y/N)."

*heartbeat accelerates* "W-Well hello there!"

Aegon is such a jealous guy, and makes it everyone's problem;

"So, you were getting cozy with Jace this morning..."

"Huh? Why do you care?"

"I mean, I don't. It's just, I didn't know you liked them stupid and ugly."

He's 1000% serious and invested in you, even if no one believes that, but he still flirts with other girls 24/7 when you aren't around;

"Like you just look mad good, like you're mad fine."

"Oh, thank you! I really appreciate it!"

"Like why are you single? You need a boyfriend already."

"Oh my God, thank you, thank you! So you like me, like you wanna be together?"

"I ain't never said that, you will never hear me say that, so I dunno where you're getting that from cuzitwasntfromme-" The moment you walked in;

Plays 21 quesstions with you after you two had a deep discussion about life and not really knowing what you want to be in the future;

You ask him what his favourite colour is and he immediately asks the colour of your nipples;

Yeah.

You heard that right.

IT'S TRUE;

Absolutely loves muggle games, much to his family's dismay;

His favourite are games that involve answering questions and stripping, let's be honest;

Has a tattoo on his back and one on his hand - he eventually wants a sleeve but says the ones he already got hurt too much and maybe he should just stop there;

You call him a lil pussy;

He gets DEFENSIVE and swears to get a tattoo of your face on his butt;

YOU BEG HIM NOT TO;

Usually his threats don't scare you, but he has that crazy look in his eyes;

Sexual jokes and tension 24/7 with the two of you;

HE WILL MAKE ANYTHING THAT YOU DO SEXUAL;

He got jealous that you're always studying with Jace and offers to help you with Herbology;

And then he loses his shit in his dorm because HE ISN'T GOOD AT HERBOLOGY WHY DID HE HAVE TO OPEN HIS MOUTH;

He has a shrew as a Patronus;

But when he falls in love with you, he's the only one between the three who actually falls so wholly, that the manifestation of his Patronus turns to yours;

His happiest memory isn't even a real memory: it's based on a dream he had that you two had sex;

Well... you do what you gotta do.

Got you a 200 year old red wine for your birthday, but he ended up drinking almost all of it by himself on his ride to crash your lil get together with Aemond;

And no, he will not apologise for it - he's very proud of himself;

Asks you out like once a week, but you always laugh and brush him off;

Bonus: Aegon spent his New Years' stuck with his family, and the only thing that stopped him from rage-quitting was texting you under the table;

[ao3-oner]

hi oner!

im a really big fan of your writing, thank you for posting so much!

quick question just for fun: if someone could only read five of your fics and no more, and you got to pick which ones, which five would you want them to read? you can include wips if you want

im just curious lol, happy writing and hope you post soon

Hi there, anon! Thank you so much for reading my stuff. I hope I post soon too LMAO, life can be busy sometimes but hopefully I'll be able to find time to write more in the upcoming weeks. I'm glad you're enjoying my fics so far :)

Man, your question is really hard to answer, though - asking a writer to pick their favorite pieces is like asking a parent to choose a favorite child. That said, I never claimed to be a good fic-parent, so ofc I have my faves. If someone, for whatever reason, could only read five of my fics, the ones I would recommend are:

1. Metro Lines and Their Prismatic Tears - 10,000 words, Rated T, minor background ships, Peyz-centric

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I think Metro Lines is my best-written fic so far. I also think it's unique in that none of my other fics really capture what it does - like if I wanted to include a GuKe fic on my list I would have a handful to choose from, but this fic is truly one-of-a-kind. I like the AU, I like the characterizations, and overall I'm really proud of my work on this fic.

2. Mad Scientist Incorrigible - 30,000 words, Rated E for lots of sex, multi-ship (Lehends x Everyone) but RuLehends-focused, Lehends-centric

Even though I think Metro Lines is better-written, I still see M.S.I. as my magnum opus and likely the coolest fic I'll ever write. Writing this fic as the tournament was going on was such a fun experience and I'm still shocked that it all came together so well narratively. I really enjoy all the drama of the piece and I think no list of ArchiveofOurOner fics would be complete without it.

I think those two very cleanly take the top spots on my list. From here on out, things get a little more debatable, but for number 3, I'll add the one other fic that I've referred to as "my favorite one" before:

3. The Man Who Talked Shit About Choi Wooje - 4,000 words, Rated T/M for violence, One2eus, shifting POV

I love this fic because it defines "crack treated seriously". Every part of it is just so ridiculous and it was super fun to write. I think part of why I consider it one of my favorites is because I had such a blast writing it, but it also shows a different tone of fic than the other two, so I think it's a good inclusion. I also sorely need to include more of my T1 boys on this list, which brings me to my next entry:

4. Facecheck - 14,000 words, Rated E for some smut, One2eus with background GuKe, Zeus-centric

As my first and most popular fic, I feel like Facecheck is another requirement for the AO3 Oner list. That's not to suggest that I don't love it - I do, but I definitely think that I've grown in my writing since then. It would still be a good include to show that growth, plus it's a fun read even if I personally consider it to be more middle-of-the-pack in terms of my work quality.

For the final slot... damn, okay, this is actually really hard. See, if the question was simply which other of my fics do I like the most, then I'd probably go with 04.11.2023, but that feels way too similar to Mad Scientist Incorrigible (since it's literally just an extension of that fic). I would also consider including my Spider-Oner AU, Strand By Silken Strand, which I'm quite proud/fond of, but let's be real - I haven't included any CanMaker on the list yet and that's a complete sin. So, with that in mind:

5. Flash-Ult - 2,000 words, Rated T, CanMaker, Canyon-centric

It was a really close call between this and Heartbreaker, but I think Flash-Ult won out for me primarily because it's much sweeter and a good deal less angsty (though there is still a bit of angst at the end). All in all, Flash-Ult is a classic, feel-good hurt/comfort fic that I think suits my dynamic of CanMaker very well and is therefore a good representation of how I write the ship. I think between M.S.I. and Facecheck, there's already enough smut on the list, but if I were to include a CanMaker smut fic instead... maybe Unleashed Power, tbh? Ig that would also allow for a taste of my Omegaverse AU...

But yeah, that's my list of 5, plus a few bonus ones tossed around in between. They aren't my best fics, they certainly aren't my most popular fics, but I think they make up the best representation of my total LoL RPF corpus so far. If someone could only read a small portion of my writing, then I think this selection would give them a pretty good taste of what my fics are like. Hopefully, they'd enjoy them as much as you have, anon!

Thanks for the ask - it was certainly an interesting one - and have a great day, wherever you are!

[luckyfluffy-ccs]

Hi hi! It's me!!

First off, happy happy anniversary to you and your amazing story! I was new to the Obey Me fandom when I discovered it while I was searching for Leviathan x Reader fics, and I'm so happy I did! It's such a detailed and wonderful story <3

Here are some of my questions to you! I'm sure others may have written similar ones lol.

How much time do you dedicate to writing and research for your story in your daily/weekly life?

When you're not writing or doing school work, what else do you do during your free time?

In general, which of the seven deadly sins describes you best? Does it correlate to your favorite brother in OM?

Of the OM characters, which one do you relate to the most?

How did you get into reader inserts? Have you played any other dating sims/otome games before getting into OM?

What other, if any, fandoms are you a part of or just like enjoying content of?

Depending on your answers, I wouldn't mind continuing the conversation for some of these questions (especially #5 hehe).

Take care as always and I look forward to you answering these questions, seeing your anniversary art, and reading more chapters! <3 ~Kkat

Hi Kkat!! I sincerely thank you for all your love of my silly story. I still can't believe it my fic you found when you were new! (I hope the occ never put you off back then HJSJH)

As you have asked a lot of (original!) questions, I have answered them under the cut! and I definitely don't mind you continuing to ask more in-depth ones. as long as I can keep it spoiler-free!

(I'm also very flattered there were questions about me haha!)

How much time do you dedicate to writing and research for your story in your daily/weekly life? It varies wildly per week if I am honest. Sometimes I can't write more than a sentence for three weeks straight and another day I pump out 3 spell-checked chapters. The research took up a LOT of time in the very beginning, especially figuring out how I wanted the cast to work out. Now it’s a whole lot less and I barely have to do it. Only when new characters appeared. Or now more commonly when a fact gets revealed about them I tend to thoroughly research it. Last time I had to study for a new fact I had like 7 tabs open on Ley lines and how they worked/their origins. Only to not use it at all lmao (well it's used but only if you squint) However, despite this the story is on my mind 24/7. Thinking about what I want to happen or cute/interesting character interactions. It is often a lot more difficult to put it down in words

When you're not writing or doing school work, what else do you do during your free time? …Well… I mostly uhm, read. Big AO3 fan here. Beyond that, I am a very creative soul. I draw! I used to have an art blog with like 500 followers, but that is in the long past- I'm also trying to make a Bullet Journal atm but I haven't done a whole lot. If I am not busy being so incredibly creative/lh I am usually playing games. I'm not a huge gamer like Levi, but I have a few games that I have quite a number of hours in! (Slime Rancher) Recently I became a huge fan of The Witcher 3 and Cult of the Lamb. If not any of those, I watch anime/read manga, regular shows or movies, talk or hang out with my friends. And I try to go to the gym! Although that's only like 2 hours per week since my stamina is utter garbage lmao

In general, which of the seven deadly sins describes you best? Does it correlate to your favorite brother in OM? This is not even a biassed thing. But my deadly sin would 100% be Envy I am such an incredibly jealous person, even since I was young. Not to trauma dump but all my life I've been compared to my siblings or other family members and now I get envious super easily. Now that I am older I can manage it a lot better than when I was little. But unfortunately, I have my fits. Also yes it correlates to Levi LMFAO Not asked, but if I had to make a tierlist of the sins that describe me. I’d have to say Envy>Wrath>Sloth>Lust>Pride>Gluttony

Of the OM characters, which one do you relate to the most? Extremely difficult question- I relate to so many of them, all for different reasons. Without naming Levi since I spoke about that in a different question, I'd have to say either Lucifer or Satan. Mostly Lucifer as we struggle with those delicious oldest sibling angst and responsibility. Ironically I really hated Lucifer at first, only to realise I was looking in a mirror. While I do not suffer from my pride in the slightest, and without doing a character analysis- I relate to the way he is perceived by others, many new fans think he treats his brothers so roughly. But if you take even 3 seconds to observe him closer you can see he holds so much fondness and love for his close ones. And I feel that. Satan is a similar case. When people don't see him for who he is they tend to quickly fall for the ‘he’s such a gentleman’ or ‘he’d murder you for a sprinkle’ guy. And I love the way Satan is complex because he IS a sweetheart, but he also is the sin of wrath. And people also tend to dumb me down to just one of my character traits so I relate to that so bad. And we are also both obsessed with books!

How did you get into reader inserts? Have you played any other dating sims/otome games before getting into OM? Have… have you heard of Mystic Messenger- that truly was my first otome/dating game. From there on it all went to hell with me- (Beyond Obey Me I actually haven't played that many other dating sims. Dangerous Fellows, LoveUnholic, HUGE fan of The Arcana. Got addicted to Character.ai for a while) Funnily enough, it wasn't that what truly got me into reader inserts. It was… it was Hetalia… while at first I only read their canon ships. I remember a 2p!Italy x reader that made such a huge impact on me, that I suddenly began reading a lot more fanfics with the trope I at first found cringe. (this fanfic has sadly been deleted) I still read a lot of ship fics, but also a big fan of my lovely reader inserts

What other, if any, fandoms are you a part of or just like enjoying content of? Please don't ask for my fandom list. It'd be worth 82 pages long. I’m a huge multi-fandom enjoyer. But if I had to numb it down to just the ones I am most active in then I’d have to be: (in no particular order) Obey Me(duh), FNAF(all media), Video Blogging RPF/Minecraft, Bungo Stray Dogs, Genshin Impact, Enstars, BNHA, Black Butler, Twisted Wonderland, MDZS/Grandmaster of demonic Cultivation/Founder of Diabolism, Dungeon Meshi, haikyuu, ect

[pochapal]

How's the writeup coming along? (Not meaning to pressure, just wondering)

full transparency i've not had the chance to work on it for almost two weeks now on account of a number of really big and pressing deadlines coming up - i really overestimated my ability to juggle numerous large projects at the same time lmao.

writeup stats as of today are 7300 words done with 1.5 sections left to go. this is frustrating because that is maybe two days' worth of work max left but i keep not having the time to do that. i know exactly what i want to say and how to say it but there are just so many other things screaming for my more immediate attention at all times.

to give a loose timeline, my most pressing deadline is coming up on the 18th (this is the first part of my thesis to be submitted in advance of my pre-transfer review upon which my phd candidacy depends, so Highly Important). after that my christmas break is from december 22nd until january 15th. in terms of writeup timelines, once this first submission is done i'll probably either get it up some point between the 19th and the 22nd, or at some point a few days after the christmas period itself (from either the 27th or the 28th onwards maybe?). i'm also hoping to read through another chapter during this break too - this'll probably be early on in the new year looking at what i have on my plate. after that i have a second deadline coming up on january 12th (this is a much smaller project so it probably shouldn't take up more than a week), and then tentatively nothing until mid-february. subject to change of course but this is what i'm working around.

so i'm hoping to get the writeup done before the year's end and at the very least read another chapter before my break ends. i also wanna sneak in a couple pickle route updates during this time if i can as well, but i'm not as worried there since there's less planning and arranging with my fic beyond a couple free days and the right vibes. no hard dates because everything is up in the air forever, but this is what we're working with here. in the more immediate-term i should be more confident about the chapter 14 writeup as soon as this first thesis submission is behind me!

[myloveforhergoeson]

Yeah, uh, sorry not sorry for that comment I just left on your AO3...

hii omg sorry this took me so long to respond to i had like the most shit day at work yesterday but seeing your comment made my day so much better 😭 had to take a moments rest before i responded lol but here i go!!!!!!!!

" I love how Roxy was able to translate Logan's love science into something the rest of the group would understand. And Roxy's reaction to James dressed as a robber was great."

love science my beloved. literally my fav running gag on the show + im not bringing it up in my fic enough i think... and yeahh! it's also love science: elevated heartrate --> experiencing a high stress situation w someone --> you love them is basically what it boils down to LMAO though it's much more scientific i swear. i had a social psychology professor in college who brought this concept up like once a week (he talked about his ex literally every class period if he could) and how he took his ex extreme mountain biking on their first date to use this concept or smth. dan if you're reading this this chapter is dedicated to you <3

"Yikes. Still trying to deal with the James/Camille saga, eh?"

she said she's over it!!! but is she ever really over it!!! roxy...

"Oh my God. I can tell that the typical teenage communication problems are going to happen again. Although, I understand Roxy's hesitation about dating in the limelight. Who wants to live in a fishbowl?"

ah... not me giving them communication problems again... whoopsies.... 💀 looks like they were able to avoid media attention tonight tho - it's a problem for another day now! now that it's on her mind she'll be able to process her feelings a bit more thoroughly!

"Gotta admit. Katie played the right ploy to get Roxy alone for advice."

if anyone told me shit was scratching in my walls i would also have a similar reaction lmao. thank god the palm woods isn't rat infested!

"(Seriously. I sometimes find it amusing he acts more like a big brother to Katie than Kendall does.)"

i also think this was a bit of a strange move by the writers honestly, but i have no idea what it's like to have brothers? so maybe kendall is just oblivious (likely) or he doesn't care at all because he knows katie can take care of herself (less likely) or he's hoping his mom will just take all of that on from her daughter (most likely)

"Oh my God! Roxy really does know her boyfriend well, doesn't he? Suppose that's one way to get an overprotective big brother off Katie's back, even if it's only temporary. And the way you described James being so tender and mindful of her comfort even in their more heated make-out sessions just... oof. I'm a puddle, mate. I'm a puddle."

i like it when oc x canon kiss :) and james needs to be good to her or i'll literally kill him off in the story idc

"Oh Roxy, Roxy, Roxy. You had to know trying to intervene with an overprotective James wasn't going to end well. (Scratch that. She'd never seen him like this, so...) But seriously. Lord help any future daughter(s) James has."

maam said 'i can fix him' and proceeded to fuel the fire lit under him WHOOPS. she's so funny sometimes like 'omg no this is why i like him he cares about his friends so much... i should be supportive, but in my own way...' girl katie needs your help!!!! and very true, she's never seen him like this and she knows how much he commits to his plans! it was certainly a strange night for them

"Flexing jawline? Hello! (Seriously. There are some moments in the show where James has no right to look so good.) And poor Roxy constantly having her food taken away because James was so freaked out over Katie and Kyle. Let the girl have her burger, damn it. (Seriously, though. James better make up for it.)"

BWAHAHA i saw this tiktok the other day about how guys pose for pictures by kissing their partners on the cheek just so they can show off their jawline so that subconsciously made it's way into the story. i supposeeee james can get weird about Katie and kyle as long as roxy has something nice to look at... poor roxy and her burger 😭 she's hungry james!

"I feel like James trying to be all blase about Keaton being scared off by her dad is to cover the fact that he was momentarily scared of her dad."

he is so scared of declan <3

"Okay. With that cliffhanger at the end, I could hear the 'Oh oh oh-oh oh...' playing in my head. Because you know it would be playing if this happened in the actual episode. (Wait. How did Brand New Day manage to schedule Big Time Rush?) Are we going to get a protective Big Time Rush next chapter because of Roxy's history with those douchebags?"

IM SO SORRY ABOUT THE CLIFFHANGER i always feel so bad ending on one 😭 but next chapter will be worth it i promise! next time i'll have the radio switch on and play the theme song or something lmaooooo. sidenote: do you think they wrote big time rush and it already had the oh oh oh-oh oh in it and they were like 'oh wow this is PERFECT for the show lets use it all the time' or they wrote the oh oh oh-oh oh in specifically to be used in the show? idk

THANK YOU SO MUCH AS ALWAYS MY FRIEND you are my #1 rames rant enabler and i appreciate it so so so much. i totally forgot to leave comments on your stories from this week im SORRY they'll be flying into your inbox asap <3

[loveislarryislove]

2023 Goals Final Results

I know we're more than a week into the new year, but shit's busy so I only just now got around to looking back at my goals for the year and seeing how they panned out. Let's see how I did!

Numeric goals

Minimum goal: 5 fics and 50,000 words over the year

Aim goal: 12 fics (ideally at least 1 per month) and 80,000 words over the year

Ludicrous goal: 15 fics and 100,000 words over the year

I posted 16 fics totalling about 73k words, so Ludicrous by number of fics but Minimum by number of words -- but on the other hand, my writing tracker reports 94k words written, which is above aim, but then again only 79k are Writing rather than Brainstorming or Editing -- let's just call it approximately Aim goal overall. I'm quite happy with that. It's less than last year, but last year was kind of buckwild numbers-wise.

15,000 lifetime kudos

222,222 lifetime hits

1,000 kudos on 2023 fics

10,000 hits on 2023 fics

I fell slightly short on the 2023 kudos, but everything else I smashed! We love to see it. Watching the numbers go up makes my brain go brrrrrrrrrrrt.

General goals

Tracking my writing

Still doing! Wanna see some sexy graphs? Just kidding you're getting them anyways.

I also put all my fics ever into a spreadsheet tracking various things (POV, tense, word count, publication date) and one of the things I found interesting was confirming how little smut I write lmao. It's more than it used to be, but I still don't think of it as really a focal feature of my writing, and that's born out in the statistics.

Beta-reading more

Check! I beta-ed for the PJO Big Bang (which was super fun) and also for a few friends. Plus I've been beta-listening for @pandapodfics, which has been a blast!

Reading-reading more (both fic and non-fic) 

Mmmmmm I read some fic, but I genuinely don't think I read a single published book all year. which is a little sad. I just don't have the time to read an entire book in one sitting, and I don't have the self-control to stop XD

Branching out to explore new fandoms or new pairings

I wrote a Series of Unfortunate Events fic for Troped which was really fun! And for my @1dastroficfest fic, I had Larry, Ziam, and Shiall all as major focal ships -- Larry was definitely the foreground, but the side ships were not minor.

Replying to most comments

I think I replied to about 70% of comments this year, which isn't terrible. It could be better, maybe I'll go and do a few more, but I always struggle with comments that are just "this was great!" or a few emojis lol -- I appreciate them, but I just don't have much to say back!

Make a podfic

Make a fic rec of some of my favourite fics

Make a cover for one (or more than one) of my old fics

I still have not done these oop. But I have been helping with Panda's podfic as mentioned, so maybe half-credit? And in the new year I just started @1dcommunityficrecs to crowdsource recs, so maybe that's another half-credit?

Find the executive functioning to put my Wordplay and Troped fics into series

Come up and implement a generic AO3 pseud for my non-Larry non-critrole fics and sort those around

Did these in August! It's a little harder to keep track of things sometimes like what account I'm commenting from, but not too bad, and it feels more organized! In total, I've written 45k for Wordplay (17 fics) and 63k for Troped (15 fics).

Come up with and implement sort of Replying To Old Comments Project so I feel like less of a doof replying to comments from like… five years ago

Still want to, still haven’t.

Next up -- new goals! Or well, some recycled XD

[moni-logues]

2022 End of the Year Recap

rules : post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

So, @amethystwritesbts tagged me in this on the old blog, but I thought this would make for a fun little transitional post, too, so I'm doing it here! I have had my [old] blog for almost exactly 53 weeks and have posted 58 fics! 🤪🤪🤪 lots to pick from lol

Top 5 works I'm most proud of

(These will all, in time, make their way here, too, but for now they are ofc readable @monimonimoon)

Marriage or Arsenic: my very first post! I'm proud of myself for starting! Proud of myself for writing and putting it out there!

Sweet Treats: I just like it!! I think it's fun! I love cute tattoo artist boyfriend Jimin!

Even Though: super spontaneous fic; decided about 11pm I wanted to write it and it was finished before 2:30am! But I'm really pleased with how it came out and it's nice to know I can produce shit if I really focus lmao

Thirteen Rounds: wrote it in one evening and then was really unhappy the following day and couldn't work out why I didn't l like it so I took my dog for a walk and figured it out. It then needed a really big, significant re-write and I did it! And then it did some serious fucking numbers lmao

A Fine Line: for obvious reasons lol. My first series! Wasn't sure I could do it! Wasn't sure anyone would like it! But I did! and they do!!

Top 4 current WIPs

The Comeback: here, have a banner! This is going to be the first fic I post here! (obviously not including AFL reposts). I hope you are looking forward to some festive angst!

Kintsugi: the long-fabled Yoongi friends-to-lovers (actually strangers-to-friends-to-lovers!). She's coming and, goddammit, I've made this bitch angsty, too. Have another banner!

Promessus: a Hobi fake dating fic that is going to require a lot of research and may not be viable if the results of that research aren't what I want! But I'm really excited about it!!!

SUPER TOP SECRET FIC: coming soon! Yoongi! A genre I've not written before! Stay tuned!!!

Three biggest improvements in my writing

I think I'm more aware of my (over-)use of adverbs now so I'm better at catching them while writing and in editing.

Writing long stuff! Actual plot! When I first started, I couldn't believe people were writing like, 5, 10, 15k fics and now I not only have one-shots that long but also a whole series! And more to come!

Deciding to only write in past tense. I kept sort of switching between past and present which meant that, even within one fic, I kept fucking up and writing in the wrong one. Sticking to one means I'm not making that mistake (as much! 😬) anymore.

Two resolutions for next year

This one is sort of already in plrogress but planning. Kintsugi is already outlined! I'm going to try to stick to the plan!

Read more -- both fics and books. I have read much less this year than I'd have liked so I really want to use this festive period to reset and start the new year with more intention and waste less of my time on my fucking phone, watching shit I don't care about on netflix etc. and actually make time for everything, which includes reading.

Favourite line I wrote this year

Remember how I said I've posted 58 fics? Yeah, I'm not going through those to pick out the best lmao. But one that I can think of off the top of my head is:

you knew you had somehow got things figured out but now, in the nauseating throes of the consequences of your own actions, it eluded you.

I'm not tagging anyone because idk who's been tagged already and I'm copping out lmao but everyone should do this, so consider yourself tagged if you are reading this!!!

[crinkled-emotions]

ok! it’s a very basic request, i love ur daderick story and the dynamic u show between amelia and rooster, can u write a fic elaborating on that and maybe showing more of their relationship? i love the idea of protective older brother rooster so maybe u could add that in🥹

Heheheh, here it is!! I took a break from writing sickfics to get this published, and for some reason it's giving Last of Us vibes??

I would just like to say it's not giving those vibes because there's zombies. There are no zombies in this fic. No clickers, no stalkers, not even a shambler (this is way past a joke lmao).

Anyway! It's time for... *checks spreadsheet* Big Brother Bradley! I hope this is what you were thinking about!

Maverick tossed the last of the luggage into Penny’s car, quickly closing the door so the luggage didn’t come back out. Penny rolled her eyes, snorting as she glanced over at Amelia.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? You could stay with grandpa,” she said. Amelia fixed her with a glare.

“I’ll be fine. It’s, like, three days-“

“-it’s a week, kid,” Pete said as he walked over with his hands on his hips. Penny pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling.

“I don’t like the idea of you home alone, it’s not too late…”

“Penny, I think she’ll be okay.”

“I’m not okay with it!”

“Amelia, who do you call in the event of an emergency?” Pete asked.

“Bradley.”

“And last person?”

“Bagman.”

“Ah, see, Pen, she’ll be fine.”

Pete walked away, pausing in front of Bradley who had come to say goodbye to Pete and Penny who were going away for the week. It wasn’t a honeymoon, it wasn’t Pete’s retirement holiday or him using all of his leave, it was just a holiday.

Okay, maybe it was something similar to a honeymoon and maybe it was Pete’s retirement present.

No one’s allowed to talk about him retiring.

Now that Pete was gone, Penny gave her daughter a hug, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“Now, who do you call first?”

“Grandpa.”

“And last?”

“Bagman.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s right. But what if grandpa’s not available?”

“Call base and ask for Bradley.”

Bradley appeared out of nowhere, Pete right behind him. He was going to hang around for a little while after Pete and Penny left, just in case Amelia got cold feet, but she was counting down the minutes until he was gone. She had pizza to order and Animal Crossing to play; with Bradley gone she could play music too. God, she had all of the plans.

“Alright, honey, we should get going. Be good, I love you, call us tonight.”

“I love you too, mom. Have a good trip.”

Amelia held on tighter to her mother for just a little longer, squeezing her eyes shut. As excited as she was to have the house to herself, a part of her was also scared as hell.

“Alright kid, be good. You know who to call if you need anything.”

Pete gave her a hug too, and despite only being back in her life for less than a year she felt just as safe with him as she did her mother. When she glanced over at Bradley he was leaning against his Bronco, sunglasses on. He didn’t look particularly bothered at all.

He never really did.

Ah, well, except that one time Hangman picked at him at the Hard Deck- heh. Story for another time.

“Be good, Bradley!” Pete yelled as he got into Penny’s car. Bradley waved him off as they pulled out of the drive. The second the car was gone he pulled up his sunglasses and Amelia turned on her heel to follow him into the house.

-

“What are you doing?”

“Thank me later.”

Bradley was working through the liquor cabinet, pulling bottles out and into reusable bags. Amelia crossed her arms.

“Y’know I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be watching me, not robbing my mom’s liquor cabinet.”

“That’s cute.”

He kept going and she tugged on his shoulder.

“Seriously, what are you doing?”

“You have the house to yourself for a week. There’s no way in hell you’re not going to have a party.”

“Ew, socialising? Fuck no.”

Bradley lifted his head finally, staring at her.

“No party? How old are you again?”

“I’m sixteen and I have a date with my switch and a pizza that’s arriving in half an hour.”

Bradley shook his head.

“Okay, I stand corrected. You scare me a little.”

“Look, I’m good. You don’t have to hang around, I know today’s your only day off. I’m sure you want to, I dunno, go hang out with your friends or whatever people do at your age.”

“At my age? Did you just- did you just call me old?”

“Yes. Yes I did.”

Amelia crossed her arms. Bradley rolled his eyes.

“Okay, fine. I’m going to go, but- just… call me. Don’t do anything stupid, okay? Be careful.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.”

He stood and headed for the door. As much as she was glad to see the back of him a part of her wanted to call out and ask him to stay.

Then she had a better idea.

“Hey, Bradley?”

“Yeah?”

Bradley stood by the door, hand on his hip.

“Did you… when you were my age…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He winked, and then walked out the door. Amelia heaved a sigh.

-

“How did it go?”

“Eh, she’s fine. I honestly think Mav and Penny were more worried than Amelia was. She was more concerned about what pizza she was going to order.”

“What did she end up going with?”

Phoenix stepped back to let Rooster into her apartment, raising an eyebrow at him. He shrugged.

“I dunno. She wasn’t eyeing Penny’s finest so I figured she was good to hang by herself.”

“She’s not you at fifteen, Roos,” Hangman said from where he’d draped himself across the top of the couch like a cat. Rooster was suddenly tempted to push him and see what happened. When he glanced at Phoenix she shook her head and he pouted. She was right; he’d have to wait until there were no witnesses. Fanboy and Bob were sitting on Phoenix’s other couch, Fanboy glancing up.

“Hey, did you lock up the booze?” He asked Rooster, who shrugged.

“She honestly didn’t seem interested. She said she had a date with her switch and a pizza.”

“That’s a mood,” Bob said at the same time as Hangman snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, I didn’t seem that interested either in front of my parents but I definitely was. My sister came to check on me and I seem to remember her gagging as she mopped the bathroom.”

He scrubbed at his eyes, glaring at Rooster.

“I know what you’re thinking. Do you want me to kick your ass?”

“It’s just so tempting,” Rooster deadpanned. Hangman’s grip on the couch tightened a little.

“You wouldn’t-“

“-hey! Focus; are you going to go and check on Amelia later?”

Payback snapped his fingers at Rooster who shrugged.

“I’ll text her at dinner, then again before I go to bed. She’s fine, she’s been home alone over the weekend before.”

“That’s not a week, Brooster,” Bob said. He kicked his legs up and on to Fanboy’s lap, reaching for his phone.

“Damn, really?” Rooster deadpanned. He facepalmed.

“She called me Bradley.”

The others all burst out laughing, Coyote patting Rooster on the shoulder.

“That is your name, right?”

“Shut up.”

-

Amelia stretched, lazily glancing up at the clock. She realised it was nearly 8pm and she was… bored. She never thought she’d see the day she was home alone and bored. She put her switch down and reached for her phone, realising Bradley had texted about ten minutes ago.

Bradley: you alive?

Amelia: consider this my notification of death

Bradley: hilarious

Bradley: have you eaten dinner?

Amelia: what are you, my mom?

Bradley: I could never make a whiskey sour like your mom

Bradley: have you?

Amelia: yes I ate chill out

Amelia: do you need a Xanax??

Bradley: surprised you know what that is

Bradley: are you in your mom’s med cabinet?

Bradley: just making sure you’re okay

Amelia: bye Bradley

She put her phone down and got up, searching for the TV remote. She was in the mood for something a little… spookier, now that Bradley had riled her up a little. If he asked later she’d say it was his fault. Criminal Minds popped up and she knew exactly what she was going to spend the rest of the night doing. She also reached for her phone again. Criminal Minds went really well with cookies and cupcakes.

-

Rooster was only half awake when he realised his phone was violently vibrating on his bedside table, and he grimaced as he reached for it.

“H-fuck- hello?”

“Bradley?”

Rooster sat bolt upright in bed, already kicking off the sheets to find a pair of sweats.

“Amelia? What’s wrong?”

“Can you come over?”

She sounded small, like the baby she was when Bradley saw her last almost fifteen years ago and she'd fit in his hands. He frowned, pulling his phone from his ear and checking the time before searching for his hoodie.

“Hey, can you tell me what’s going on? Do I need to call the cops?”

“N-no cops, I just- I’m sorry.”

Rooster paused.

“Oh, shit, Amelia, I- you don’t have to apologise, okay? You are not in trouble at all, it’s nothing. I’m actually pretty good at getting up at odd hours.”

That was a lie.

His callsign wasn't Rooster for his inability to get up with the sun-

“I’m sorry Bradley,” Amelia sobbed. Rooster winced.

“Kid, hey, can you take some deep breaths for me? I need you to slow down, you’re really scaring me. I can call your mom, if- if you feel more comfortable-“

“-no!”

Rooster stopped, mid-struggle into his pants and landing on his ass on his bed. He was also pretty confused.

“Uh-?”

“Please don’t call her. She’ll never leave me alone again.”

“Gotcha. Okay, I’m on my way. Do you need me to grab anything on my way?”

“No.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in- uh- probably ten? Fifteen at the latest.”

Silence. Then, a sniff.

“Can you bring chocolate?”

“Jeez kid, it’s- is it seriously 3am? Fuck, okay, I’ll grab chocolate on the way. Are you gonna rip my head off if I get the wrong type?”

“No.”

“Alright, I’m coming. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“Please,” Amelia whispered. Rooster scrubbed at his face, searching for his car keys.

“Hold on for me, kiddo.”

-

Amelia listened to Bradley chatting to himself, swearing as he stubbed his toe on his way down the stairs. He then kept up a running commentary whilst he drove, taking the piss out of people doing dumb shit at odd hours of the night. She stayed curled up in bed, pulling her blankets over her head to listen to him ranting about the way the air conditioning wasn’t working properly in his Bronco and how he was going to have to pay to get it re-gassed again.

“Surely you can just do it yourself?” Amelia whispered. She heard Bradley chuckle.

“No, kid, I can fix most of the shit but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to touch the air.”

“Oh.”

She grimaced at the pain radiating through her abdomen, curling up tighter.

“Can you fix my car?” She whispered.

“You sound like you’re in pain, kid. What’s wrong?”

He heard the pain in her voice but she knew he was confused. She whimpered.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can’t you hurry up?”

“Amelia, I’m trying not to break the law here. Alright, I’m turning into your street. Go and unlock the front door then you can go back to bed.”

She managed to climb out of bed then walked down the hallway, pausing to unlock the door. She then crawled back into bed and pulled the blanket over her head, waiting for Bradley to get there. He’d hung up their phone call so she knew he wasn’t far away.

Sure enough, the front door opened and she poked her head out.

“B?”

“Comin’.”

She knew he was kicking his shoes off- her mom always chased him about it. Apparently she’d been doing it since he was a kid. It was kind of sweet.

Finally, he appeared in the doorway and she sniffed. His eyes fell.

“Okay, c’mon, up. C’mere.”

-

Sitting on the couch, hot chocolate in a mug on the coffee table, Amelia stifled a sob and buried her face in the arm of the couch. Bradley reappeared from the kitchen, nudging at her shoulder so he could sit. She leaned into his side when he gave her a hug.

“Do you want to tell me what’s got you so worked up?”

She hummed, taking the tissue he passed over.

“I got my period.”

“Haven’t you had, like, a million of those- ow!”

Amelia had thumped Bradley in the shoulder and he winced, rubbing the spot with a frown.

“Sorry?”

“I got my period and mom isn’t here and everything hurts.”

Her lip wobbled again and he panicked, pulling her tighter against his side.

“Okay kiddo, okay… shhhh… do you need me to go and get you… stuff?”

“Shut up.”

Despite the way she punched his shoulder and the way she acted, she still leaned into him and waited for him to figure out next steps.

“Alright, new plan; I’m gonna get you some advil, you’re gonna pick some dumbass documentary, and then you’re gonna get some sleep. I’ll call your mom later and ask her for some tips.”

“Thanks.”

Amelia didn’t move. She could feel Bradley shifting, preparing to get up, and she sat up to let him get off the couch. He went into the bathroom and came back with the box of Advil, tossing it to her.

“Drink the hot chocolate.”

She grabbed the TV remote while she was at it and flicked through the channels, huffing as Bradley flopped into the armchair. He was apparently texting according to the way his brows furrowed for a second, then he reached over and poked Amelia’s arm.

“Tash says you need a heating pad to stop the cramps.”

“That sounds so good.”

Then she sat up.

“Tash?”

“Ah. Phoenix.”

“You whore, Bradley.”

“Oh, god, no.”

He burst out laughing, highly amused.

-

“Amelia? Honey, hey, what happened?”

Penny was frantic, worried as she paced the deck. Pete watched her, reaching for his phone. Sure enough it was buzzing and he answered the call.

“Hey, Roos. How’s it going?”

“You have to promise you’re not gonna laugh.”

“Oh, god. Is this gonna be like the time with the bottle of vodka-“

“Mav.”

Rooster sounded embarrassed- humiliated, even.

“Okay, fine, I guess I can hold on to that. Are you okay?”

“Ah, yeah, I got a wake up call around 3 this morning. Amelia’s fine, before you lose your shit. She’s still asleep for now.”

Maverick glanced over at his wife, watching the way she softened as she spoke to her daughter.

He wondered if he had the same look now, listening to Bradley.

[appreciatingtokrev]

elys 🥲🥲🥲🥲 im 🥲🥲🥲🥲 going 🥲🥲🥲🥲 back 🥲🥲🥲🥲 to 🥲🥲🥲🥲 school 🥲🥲🥲🥲 today 🥲🥲🥲🥲

IM NOT READY FOR THIS there was so many people i was "talking" to and one of those people is my ex's current partner (polyamorous things 💪) so idk man i wanna be a homewreaker BUT like ykkkk im niceeeee

anyways its summer here so i made ice tea for me and my friends :PPPPP i'll be sure to update u on my day when i get back.

so anyways how are you doing dear??????

hi taku you poor thing 😭😭😭 I UNDERSTAND I AM NEVER READY FOR SCHOOL EITHER I HATE IT. okay but i wish you good luck with being whoever you choose to be today and the people and everything adgjgsghf

:00 i love ice tea!! i treated myself to some cold ass peach flavored soda today even tho it’s freezing here bc winter (i mean. around 0°C so not that cold but yk. in my hometown it hardly ever gets colder than -5°C during daytime, the coldest it was here during my whole life was -14°C lol) but it tasted good so 👍 i will go to sleep soon bc it’s 10pm sadly but yes yes do that!! i’ll probs only be able to reply tmrw morning but yk

good!! exams are over, i did great on them, this week we have two afternoons and one morning less of school bc the teachers are discussing grades blah blah and so they have to cancel class. love it fr. also guess who’s aquired a new hyperfixation? me! (dw tokrev still stays my one big hyperfixation lmao) i am now going insane about yet another german crime show 👍 bad news is there’s only one episode released each year and the 2023 one was released on january 29. so yeah i will most probably die from the lack of content but at least i have about 1k fics to read about it, and many more similar german crime shows to watch hehe

[justanotherghostwriter]

Hi Twin! Here you go for the ao3 wrapped asks: 6, 17, 20, 30 please! Sending love!

Twin! Hello! Thank you for asking questions <3 I answered 6 and 30 in another ask, but I'll copy and paste the answers here for easier reading for you :'D Hope you're doing well!

6. Favorite title you used

The letter W, I found out this evening when reviewing the title of my fic for the year.

I don’t like writing titles, actually; they’re the most difficult part of writing for me, in many ways. And with so few fic to choose from, this was a struggle for me to answer. If I had to choose one of the five fic... We Saw a Spark. Even without knowing the song reference, that line speaks a lot about hope and the sudden striking of new things that could be dangerous, yes, but could also bring light.

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

You know, I sat with this a long time trying to figure out if I enjoyed Katara or Zuko more this year. It’s like choosing between my children. xD I think I’m going to say Katara because 1) I’ve done it more and stats speak, right? And 2) the space I was in this year really leant itself to writing Katara with my heart in deeper ways than I ever have before. Especially in We Saw a Spark which was (and will be, when I get back to it, eventually lmao help) a bit of an exploration for me of parts of the need to help others to deal with pain. The good and bad and un-lable-able bits of that response. I never went through Zuko’s coping mechanisms, per se, but Katara’s are a lot more familiar to me, at their core, if not in their actual outworking. And that was something special to do.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Here I am to drag myself fully. The actual work of mine I’ve re-read the most is A House Built With Many Stones (ATLA, gen) which was written in 2020. I will fully admit I love the scene of Aang and Zuko and the big reveal so much that I sneak back there to relive it. Also Suki and Zuko friendship. And then I lie there and imagine what I would have done if it were a Zutara piece and —

The piece from this year I’ve re-read the most was probably We Saw a Spark, but that’s because I wrote it all out of order and on my phone in bits and pieces and I needed to quadruple check for errors and the reminder of what on earth I was trying to get at weeks ago in the line to the bank, or whatever. It’s still less to get through than Atlas, which I’ll only re-read to empathise with what I put my poor readers through ;)

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

That I didn’t finish any of the event fic that I swore I would be done by their deadlines? No, honestly, We Saw a Spark somehow gained chapters and is months and months overdue. I’m Pikachu surprised meme that, wow, breaking my self-vow never to post something before it was complete ever again led to me ghosting my own fanfic. I guess I’m just really living up to my username in ways I never, ever expected.

Less cheekily, the biggest surprise is always the feedback. The love in the comments and the tags and the bookmark notes. The recs. The fanart (thank you <3). I hope I never stop not expecting it.

Ask me AO3 wrapped questions.

Fic from 2022:

Atlas: Rebuilding (Zutara)

Dog Days (Zutara)

We Saw A Spark (Zutara)

What Goes Must Come (Agent Carter)

While the Music Lasts (Zutara)

[minkdelovely]

ANOTHER INCREDIBLE CHAPTER BUT ARE WE REALLY SURPRISED??

I loved getting to know Edward — I don’t know if we’ll see him again, but he really took me by surprise. How do I have such fondness for a detective we just met? Maybe because he’s just so even keeled compared to KENNETH lmao (the day I call him Brady call the FBI or something cuz it means aliens took over my body)

The suspense just keeps building in such a delicious way! I know every week we get closer to the end but I’m honestly having too much fun living in the now even I can’t wait to go see our darling at the Golden Dish next week 😩✨

(Kenneth the whole chapter)

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Okay, I have paused reading to provide some fresh thoughts…

I don’t have a breakdown for the beginning of this fic, because I was just so caught up in how we’re exploring this new character, Edward Freeman. I think it’s no secret that I am a BIG FAN of exposition, and the opening of this chapter is such a fantastic example of it.

We immediately get a sense of who this man is and where he stands, how he views the world and the people around him. The mention of real-world events will get me every time, and The Crash and its impact has always fascinated me, so seeing how it’s being used here to bolster Edward’s worldview was just SOOOO satisfying.

Also the description of Tommy’s mom?? Watery eyed and shaking? I can see this poor woman so clearly, and I feel for her, even with all the context we have as the reader: that Tommy sucked and our collective Deer Husband killed him (and then we proceeded to fuck said husband as Tommy went cold on the floor). I guess I’m just trying to say that I’m constantly surprised at where we’re finding sympathy for characters as this story progresses, whether it’s toward someone established or brand new.

It’s the marker of a great author who really cares about everyone involved here, and I suppose I need to get real comfortable staying down here on the floor to worship at Hazel’s altar.

Brady’s bright blue eyes only get clearer and darker with every ounce of anger you inspired in him. An angry sea churning up violently behind his mean mug. He was practically sneering at you. 

AHHHH THERE YOU ARE, KENNETH

You remembered his hair well from that first meeting in front of the cafe. It clearly had become oily and weighed down from less frequent washing. The skin under his eyes was looking dark and thin. “You look like shit, by the way. Should sleep instead of bothering honest performers.”

AUTUMN!! This is a true “reader insert” moment right here

“Ha, there you are. True colors shining through finally.”

Kenneth you can’t say that, cuz I said it first??

“How was my mom? Not much of a talker.”

HA!!

His head turned with a crawl, weighted down with a steel ball of apprehensive horror, to look at Brady. He was leaning on the table with both elbows, staring at you like you’d busted out his car window and shot his dog. 

DAMNNN EDDIE IS SHOOK THE HOUSE DOWN BOOTS

Freeman looked at Brady with dead eyes, the shutdown of his feelings was an automatic attempt by his body to try and keep from grabbing Brady by the shirt in a fit rage, and turned the paper to reveal the name written to Brady. 

Am I… Edward Freeman…?

“What crime?”

“The one with the guy and the girl. It’s all in there.”

OHHH KENNETH. THIS IS NOT GOOD 😬

“What does that matter! It’s an illegal hooch den! Naked dancers! Race mixing! She admitted she-,” Brady was pacing a small three foot by three foot square in front of the desk. Freeman had his arms crossed while seated.

KENNETH “CLUTCHING MY PEARLS” BRADY

Freeman sighed, long and heavy. A huff of breath that somehow conveyed his disappointment better than words.

THE WAY I CAN HEAR THIS. Edward is so tired 😩

“I know she’s involved. I know her guy did it. And I know someone’s killing people. Lots of people.” He said it confidently into the corner of the office.

I just… hate how fucking right he is though

“One complaint about you and you’re being chained to a desk. Cut her loose, apologize, and go home. I don’t wanna see you anymore tonight. Your freaky little eyes are getting under my skin.” His captain removed his small rounded glasses and rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated his life had come to telling men to stop doing their jobs.

YOUR FREAKY LITTLE EYES ARE GETTING UNDER MY SKIN — I’M SCREAMING 😂🙈

With a scoff and a shake of your head, you found yourself, “No,  but I wish he had. What’s the point of being good if people assume the worst of you anyway?” Reaching out for his hand again, you held his large one in both of your smaller ones, “At least if he’d killed him I’d be sure Tommy’s never coming back to keep his promise.”

GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS

The paralysis set in as soon as the door was shut. You could hear Alastor’s name echoing around in your head, the sound so sharp it made fresh tears well. Brady had heard it, of course. It was for nothing. You worked so hard, kept his name off of your tongue despite the way it always felt so good there. 

UGHHHHH MY HEARTT

Brady wasn’t crazy, he was smart and lucky.

ain’t it the fucking truth 😩

Brady smiled, and for a moment you forgot how scary that should be. “No. You’re a liar and you’re aiding a criminal. But you work in a place I’m not supposed to bother. Luckily for me, Alastor’s work surely isn’t one.” Your eyes rolled. Hearing him say the name was like hearing a dog sing opera. Unsettling and unnatural. Perhaps a little impressive from a distance. Unfortunately you were front row and center.

KENNETH YOUR VITRIOL I SWEAR TO GODDD

Briefly he entertained grabbing you and violently shaking you until you confessed. He managed to find the strength to bury that down, mouth opening instead in preparation for words he didn’t have yet.

I SEE YOUR TRUE COLORS SHINING THROUGHHH🎶

Brady motioned with his thumb down the hall and said, “Your guy isn’t here to pick you up. Funny name by the way. I got a complaint for an Alastor last week. Socked some man for no good reason. Sounds like a violent fella, kinda guy with a temper when someone speaks I’ll of his lady, or fiancé, I’m told…Anyway, dropped the case since the guy wouldn’t give any more information but maybe I should follow up.”

WILLIAM. I knew I needed to remember you for a reason… I was wrong the last time, but I KNEW YOU WERE A SNAKE AND A BITCH

He didn’t move. He couldn’t let you take this moment from him. He’d made a massive victory in this personal war and your nonchalant attitude was making something in the back of his skull itch. Somewhere beneath his bone. A new sensation.

MY LORD THIS MAN IS PISSED 😰

A man unable to control his face was often a man unable to control his hands.

OH MY GOD

“This won’t end like you think it will.” He said it too loudly for how close he was to you, “It never does for the women.” He stopped at the station’s front desk and leaned into the glossy wooden counter, “Oh! I almost forgot! Congrats on the engagement.”

Kenny you can’t be cunt… don’t make me like you because you’re cunt 😩

Like a leak in the hull of your iron-sided ship, it seemed the second Ruth so sweetly dripped that name into Brady’s waiting maw the ocean was spilling in. Every time you heard it fall from another person’s mouth the breach in your metal barriers tore wider. If the Titanic could sink in calm weather what luck did Alastor and you have in the tempest of Brady’s fervor?

Words do not exist to articulate what this whole paragraph means to me… but you know Hazel 🥺♥️

He shook his head and handed you the card, “He said,” a pause as his eyes rolled up to search for the exact words, “to tell the host you’re there for him. Called it the Golden Dish, but the card doesn’t mention anything like that…. Sorry, I didn’t think to ask more questions. Like I said, he seemed out of sorts.”

I NEED TO HUG HIM IMMEDIATELY

What was the Golden Dish? And who was kissing Alastor’s business cards?

AAHHHH!! I THINK I KNOW WHO IT IS 👀✨

A Doe in Fall (Part 12)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie📍

Part 12 Eddie

Brady tried to cut some corners to bring you and Alastor down but ends up just hurting himself.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, still not smut cuz we’re waiting for the special moment, po-po, 5-0, down at the gun club, not an accurate portrayal of 1930s New Orleans Leadership, mystery kisses, brief thoughts of violence, illiteracy, @minkdelovely」

MDNI 👮 🚓

Edward Freeman met Kenneth Brady when the younger man was partnered with him. He was bright eyed, and had a sense of justice Freeman appreciated. He was already tired of the rigamarole of police work, so the fresh energy reinvigorated his early days and long nights. It was rather pointless though, police work, given the people in charge weren’t fans of cracking down on the illegal booze business. It was making too much money under the tables and in handshakes.

The nation was still reeling from the crash of the market nearly two years prior. Any way to get ahead, to stay with your chin above the rising waters, well… what harm is there really in feeding your family? The end justifies the means, right? And Brady didn’t seem to disagree too much with that sentiment. 

So when the typically stringent, but otherwise soft spoken and relaxed, Brady began to…devolve into someone a little too myopic, Freeman wasn’t quite sure how to handle him. They’d been rather laissez-faire about the morality of things for so long. They tried to keep violence at a minimum so their fellow citizens could enjoy their city. That was the extent of it. But, Brady was becoming obsessed. 

It started normally enough. Brady bringing up a missing husband. Later on, a missing bartender. Soon he was snooping on to other’s cases, convinced something was connecting them. 

But, given the times and the character of such people, well, Freeman couldn’t quite understand Brady’s fervor. Sure. Some of them probably ended up under backyards and in the water. Hell, quite a few of them he’d have helped do away once he got the real dirt on them. A conspiracy? Or a mass killer? That seemed implausible at best. There was simply no indication of a grande scheme. 

Brady kept pushing. Walking the streets at night with ears open and eyes peeled, for any inkling of what was going on. 

He just couldn’t accept that sometimes people leave town or jobs. Very few of them were actually reported by loved ones, even the ones that had them.

Then came along the widow Dupre, watery eyed and shaking about her missing adult son. Who, from what they’d uncovered, was a real piece of work.

Freeman let Brady start his investigation, but as it became clear he was adding it to his pile of random disappearances, Freeman had to step away. He could see the obsession ruining his friend. 

At a rare dinner with the families, the stress on Brady’s wife’s face was visible for all to see. She cornered Freeman in the kitchen when he went for more coffee, asking if Brady was stepping out on her or if he truly had been working so hard on something big. 

He hardly knew what to say. Neither were true. He’d been working late, but on a wild goose chase. 

When he dragged a clean cut and confused woman into the station, Freeman knew he’d really lost the fucking plot. 

“She’s his accomplice. I know it. Her fella is the man. I’ve got him fingered.” Brady pointed at you through the closed door. You weren’t listening to their voices in the hall, the name still ringing in your head. The name you'd both sacrificed to keep secret. 

Alastor.

Freeman hissed, “You can’t arrest people for knowing a guy! A boogie man at that, Kenny. Come on.” 

“I have her confession for prostitution. It’s all clean and by the book. And, I have a witness.” Brady tapped Freeman’s arm with the back of his hand and led him down the hall to another room, “He saw her and her guy throw a body in the river.”

Well, shit.

“You found a body? The Dupre son?” Freeman considered what he’d said. The river? Why the river? Bodies didn’t always make it to the sea. It’d be a sloppy misstep for this supposed murderous mastermind.

Brady sighed, his parade a little rained on. “...No, but I have a witness right there. And, I got the name of her fella. I just need to find which station he’s at and I’m off to the races. I bet you my house this guy’s good for it.”

Ah, so. He had next to nothing. Freeman just nodded and took a calming breath. “Alright, are we starting with the woman or this guy?”

“Oh, for sure her.” Bready turned to open the door, but Freeman shot his hand out to stop him. 

“And this is the one who gave you the runaround?” Freeman had heard so much about you already, he wanted to prepare himself for whatever tricky shrew was waiting for him. He followed his partner through the door and took you in fully. Your stare was distant and glassy. You’d been crying and you seemed to be shaking slightly from the cold of the room as fall’s night air slipped in through the window. 

You could, reasonably, be his daughter. A similar age for sure, similar build, same hair color. Same penchant for the wrong kinda guy, apparently.

He recalled all of the ways Brady had spoken about you. The image in his head was a bird faced woman with sharp eagle eyes and tight lips. Someone decidedly ugly with a permanent scowl and mischief behind quick glances.

And here was a woman, vulnerable and quite nice to look at it. Hair obviously groomed well when not manhandled by cops, and a rather handsome dress which indicated a good personality by the current standards. The shoulders had flat bows that let their ribbons fall onto your bare shoulders. Feminine. Suitable. Not much skin showing. otherwise. A burlesquer seemed to the kind who didn’t wear clothes often, but he supposed everyone has a work uniform after all. Even the nude dancers. Who was he to judge you for your professional clothing requirements? You were here and modest and that’s what mattered.

He took a seat, sliding the folder Brady had set down into the space in front of him. “I hear you’re not too fond of disclosing your personal information.”

It had been several hours since you’d arrived, and now they chose to grace you with their presence? You’d been tossed into a room and left alone for so long, it seemed more like punishment than bureaucracy.

Brady’s bright blue eyes only get clearer and darker with every ounce of anger you inspired in him. An angry sea churning up violently behind his mean mug. He was practically sneering at you. 

“Can you blame me? The men in this city are certifiable. Case in point, this hound you call a cop.” You had the forethought to keep your shoulders pulled inward, gesturing with your chin.

“Detective.” Brady corrected. 

“Same thing, jackass.” Eyes rolling, you pushed back against the chair causing the front legs to lift for a second. Returning your glare to him, you honed in on the messy details. You remembered his hair well from that first meeting in front of the cafe. It clearly had become oily and weighed down from less frequent washing. The skin under his eyes was looking dark and thin. “You look like shit, by the way. Should sleep instead of bothering honest performers.”

“Ha, there you are. True colors shining through finally.”

“How was my mom? Not much of a talker.”

“Fu-,” Brady flinched forward, chair squeaking against the linoleum floor. It took a tensing of your arms to keep from openly reacting.

“Ya’ll, enough. Now, don’t be too sour with us. We’re just working off your own words,” Freeman opened the folder to find your confession. It had been typed nice and neat and labeled DOE, JANE. He turned it to you briefly, eyebrows hitching as if to ask if you remembered it. You glanced at it long enough to see the conversation and names and nodded. Yes, you’d had that conversation. Brady must have typed it mostly from memory, you thought, or he had some quick shorthand. He brought it back to face him and as his eyes roamed the sheet, his shoulders stiffened. He wasn’t seeing what he was expecting. “Could you-?,” he motioned for Brady to point out the part of your last conversation that constituted a confession. Brady tapped a line of text. 

BRADY - Tell me about the dates Tommy arranged. DOE, JANE - Apparently many of the dancers agreed, got a cut. I had no idea about it until he introduced me to a man who was very forward. I insulted him and ran off. Lost Tommy good money, apparently. BRADY - And who was that? DOE, JANE - S something. Mister Stein? I honestly wasn’t listening much after I realized what was happening. BRADY - And then he knocked you around? DOE, JANE - Yeah. Got me good. BRADY - And… the next date. Last time anyone saw Tommy. Tell me about that. DOE, JANE - Tommy said he’d kill me if I didn’t go. So I did. Promised me he’d stay with me for protection. But as soon as he got his money he left.

Freeman’s head lifted slowly from the paper to look at you over the folder, across the table. Your arms were crossed, makeup smeared and running with long dried tears. Your hair mussed. His head turned with a crawl, weighted down with a steel ball of apprehensive horror, to look at Brady. He was leaning on the table with both elbows, staring at you like you’d busted out his car window and shot his dog. 

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” He pushed back, resting his hand on Brady’s shoulder and walking out. In the small room that looked into the interrogation room where the male witness fidgeted, he set the folder and your words down. 

He motioned for Brady to close the door behind him. As soon as the latch clicked into place, he smacked the table. 

“That isn’t a confession! It’s a fucking victim statement, Kenny.” He looked through the one way glass at the man seated, “And he wrote a witness report?” He gestured with his head, the man Brady called Joseph sat quietly waiting for their return. His clothes were pulling at the seams, his fingernails crusted with dirt. 

Brady nodded, “Yeah. He came in yesterday and after he told me what he saw he wrote it down there and signed.” He was pointing to a piece of paper he’d left on the same table Kenny was now trying to use for stability. Trying was the keyword. His disbelief was dizzying. 

A small laugh, petulant and bordering annoyed, left his lips. He grabbed a pen, wrote something down, and brushed past him. Freeman marched into the witness room, Brady closely following behind.

“Sir, do me a favor and check I’ve spelt your name properly on this paperwork please.” He held it up. The man looked, found where Freeman's finger was pointing, and nodded.

Freeman looked at Brady with dead eyes, the shutdown of his feelings was an automatic attempt by his body to try and keep from grabbing Brady by the shirt in a fit rage, and turned the paper to reveal the name written to Brady. 

Josanna. Written neatly in block letters. 

Without breaking eye contact with Brady, “And just refresh my memory, sir, what was your statement in regards to again?”

Joseph cleared his throat, “I saw it happen. Down by the river.”

“Saw what happen?”

“The crime.”

“What crime?”

“The one with the guy and the girl. It’s all in there.”

Freeman shoved the written statement into Brady’s chest, “You have half a second to get to the captain’s office before I do.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“That man can’t even read his own name let alone write. From what I can tell he’s a random homeless you plied with confiscated booze. What is going on with you?” The gray haired man bellowed from his chair, hands resting on a large pot belly. 

“What does that matter! It’s an illegal hooch den! Naked dancers! Race mixing! She admitted she-,” Brady was pacing a small three foot by three foot square in front of the desk. Freeman had his arms crossed while seated.

“A victim told you she was assaulted. And I-,” the captain leaned back in his chair, “You know exactly how we feel about the wet spots in this city. The, uh, race thing is another issue but— Kenny, you’re one more rogue act from losing your beat. Do you not get that?”

“Rogue? I’m doing legitimate police work. I’m investigating crime! What the fuck is happening here?!” He stopped pacing long enough wave an apology to his boss for the language. 

Freeman sighed, long and heavy. A huff of breath that somehow conveyed his disappointment better than words.

“I decide what constitutes police work and this is not that.” His boss shook his chair side to side, thinking about how to get Brady in line. “It comes straight from the commissioner and the mayor above him. We aren’t to hound the bars under our purview.”

‘I’m not!” He started up pacing again, hands up and open in genuine confused frustration. 

“You’re harassing their dancers! Stalking around their establishments at night freaking people out!” He laughed in disbelief, “Her manager is outside now. Had to shut down for the night because of your little show.”

Brady put his hands on his hips and faced away from the captain. His face enough alone to have him dismissed. 

“I know she’s involved. I know her guy did it. And I know someone’s killing people. Lots of people.” He said it confidently into the corner of the office.

“Kenny. Enough.” Freeman shook his head and stood to leave. 

“One complaint about you and you’re being chained to a desk. Cut her loose, apologize, and go home. I don’t wanna see you anymore tonight. Your freaky little eyes are getting under my skin.” His captain removed his small rounded glasses and rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated his life had come to telling men to stop doing their jobs.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

While you were here anyway, and Brady shooed off Joseph, Freeman decided to speak with you again. He offered you a nod and took Brady’s seat.

It was hard to be friendly, you found. Every minute or so you had to sniffle, nose running long after the tears dried up. Your eyelashes stuck together when you blinked.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get your name, sir.” You sniffled again, hands warming your arms.

Freeman leaned over and offered you his hand, “Detective Eddie Freeman.” You shook it, keeping your hand rather limp to give the appearance of weakness.

“I just-,” he laughed as he set his hand on the table, clicking his ring twice out of habit, “I gotta ask. Did your fella kill Tommy? Are you in some kinda trouble?”

With a scoff and a shake of your head, you found yourself, “No,  but I wish he had. What’s the point of being good if people assume the worst of you anyway?” Reaching out for his hand again, you held his large one in both of your smaller ones, “At least if he’d killed him I’d be sure Tommy’s never coming back to keep his promise.”

Your mother always taught you to make yourself small. Remind the people you needed to believe you that you were not a threat. Play the part they always pigeon holed you into. It was easier than fighting the assumptions. There was power in deception. 

“Your pal is really ruining my life. Even more than Tommy.” You squeezed, 30% strength.  

When you looked up at him, he could only find you to be the image of pitiful girl, “Let me check some things and I’ll have Kenny sending you on your way, miss-?”

“Doe.”

“Right.” His ring rapped against the bright wooden door frame, two times, and your brief time knowing Freeman ended. 

The paralysis set in as soon as the door was shut. You could hear Alastor’s name echoing around in your head, the sound so sharp it made fresh tears well. Brady had heard it, of course. It was for nothing. You worked so hard, kept his name off of your tongue despite the way it always felt so good there. 

Conjured images of Alastor barging into the police station haunted you. What would he say in anger? Brady wasn’t crazy, he was smart and lucky. Nothing could be worse. Alastor could say anything while mad, and Brady could make conclusions he had no business jumping to.

And then he was there in the room with you, and you had to return to the moment and try to calibrate yourself. Who were you now? He already knew you weren’t the damsel in distress, he knew you weren’t weak and frail. Right?

Maybe you’d just be yourself, like you’d let slipped earlier. Your mouth opened and his hand flew up, “Don’t. Shut it.”

“Excu-”

“I’ve been told to apologize and send you home.”

“Oh? And are you?”

Brady smiled, and for a moment you forgot how scary that should be. “No. You’re a liar and you’re aiding a criminal. But you work in a place I’m not supposed to bother. Luckily for me, Alastor’s work surely isn’t one.” Your eyes rolled. Hearing him say the name was like hearing a dog sing opera. Unsettling and unnatural. Perhaps a little impressive from a distance. Unfortunately you were front row and center.

Time with you felt so rare, he wanted to keep you a little longer but couldn’t think of what to say or do. Briefly he entertained grabbing you and violently shaking you until you confessed. He managed to find the strength to bury that down, mouth opening instead in preparation for words he didn’t have yet. 

“Can I go home now?” Rubbing your arms to make it clear how uncomfortable you were, you cut him off like he had you. Not that he had anything to say. 

Brady motioned with his thumb down the hall and said, “Your guy isn’t here to pick you up. Funny name by the way. I got a complaint for an Alastor last week. Socked some man for no good reason. Sounds like a violent fella, kinda guy with a temper when someone speaks I’ll of his lady, or fiancé, I’m told…Anyway, dropped the case since the guy wouldn’t give any more information but maybe I should follow up.”

“Are you so sure I have one, a guy that is?” You simply couldn’t admit Alastor was yours. Never. Not for Brady. “No one’s coming for me. No one’s punched anyone for me either. Though, I’m flattered you think I’m worth the charge. Am I free to leave?” The little tug of your lips into a halfhearted grin warmed you. It was thrilling, lying to his face when you both knew the truth.

He didn’t move. He couldn’t let you take this moment from him. He’d made a massive victory in this personal war and your nonchalant attitude was making something in the back of his skull itch. Somewhere beneath his bone. A new sensation.

A brief and violent flash of knocking the smirk off your tear stained face startled him. You noticed him swallow hard, expression shifting from amused to bewildered. From the outside, all you could read was a frightened widening of his eyes.

“Brady…? If you’re waiting for some man to collect me, I’ll be here all night.” Your voice was softer now, while you couldn’t uncover what was happening in his head, you could tell he was in some kind of turmoil.

A man unable to control his face was often a man unable to control his hands.

His legs lifted his body up and dragged him over to the door.  He opened it, slowly, before leaning against the wall beside it to ensure you passed him in close quarters. He knew he couldn’t keep you there forever.

Maybe this Alastor was a real rough fellow. So cruel he wouldn’t even care if his dame was in a bind. The kind of man to abandon his closest allies when cornered. Maybe he really wasn’t coming for you. Which was fine, he told himself. He’d be seeing him soon.

Following you out, he took the walk as an opportunity to warn you again.

“This won’t end like you think it will.” He said it too loudly for how close he was to you, “It never does for the women.” He stopped at the station’s front desk and leaned into the glossy wooden counter, “Oh! I almost forgot! Congrats on the engagement.”

Turning to say a harsh good night, you caught yourself and turned back, exiting through the station doors without another word to him. No need for polite pleasantries anymore. The game was well and truly over for you. 

“Oh thank god,” Johnny was sitting on the steps of the station and jumped to his feet when you came out, a sight you weren’t expecting. You stopped, confused. He smiled seeing your brows knit and eyes wander past him in search of someone else, “I was going to bail you out but they said there wasn’t any need. Alastor is waiting for you.” 

Like a leak in the hull of your iron-sided ship, it seemed the second Ruth so sweetly dripped that name into Brady’s waiting maw the ocean was spilling in. Every time you heard it fall from another person’s mouth the breach in your metal barriers tore wider. If the Titanic could sink in calm weather what luck did Alastor and you have in the tempest of Brady’s fervor?

“Oh…,” you tried to hide the dejection. He sent Johnny? That was smart, but, why did it sting?

Perhaps it was his six sisters, or maybe he was genuinely a good man, but Johnny’s heart ached at the pitiful tone. He leapt up two steps, “He wanted to come! But I told him it was a bad idea. Tempers and all that. Don’t need any more issues for you tonight. Though admittedly he didn’t seem mad, necessarily.”

A slow nod. Johnny told Alastor what to do? Your eyes looked to the left, that was an odd mental image.

“Thanks, Johnny. I need to return to the theater first.” Your hand reached out for his arm and gave it a squeeze, “I appreciate you.”

“Dont mention it. And your bag is with Alastor.” He let his hand come to yours, “He’s kind of a mess, that one.”

You tensed, accidentally pinching his arm in a flit of panic before drawing it back, “Did he drive home like that?”

He shook his head and handed you the card, “He said,” a pause as his eyes rolled up to search for the exact words, “to tell the host you’re there for him. Called it the Golden Dish, but the card doesn’t mention anything like that…. Sorry, I didn’t think to ask more questions. Like I said, he seemed out of sorts.”

You looked down to inspect it, nervous at the sudden introduction of a paper trail. Nodding, you finally took it with both hands. The face was rather plain: an address in the corner with just the number and street, and an interlocked G and D in the center. Turning it over, you found a pink lipstick kiss stained haphazardly across the back and a small squiggle. Your thumb ran over the clipped right bottom corner. 

What was the Golden Dish? And who was kissing Alastor’s business cards?

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