#it’s got Barbie energy

[uchihauahas]

Obsessed with how the Minato manga is actually about Kushina it’s Her world and they’re all living in it

[wolvesbaned]

monster girls' night :^)

[dreaming-of-barbi]

That's so fucked up that people are romantizing Franco, because even Red Barrels are showing him as a total creep and disgusting person. In Outlast Tag I have a feeling that some artists are making him completly different character, making him charming/safe/lovely. I even have seen some people who were drawing him with normal face (without big forehead) and you couldn't tell them that it's the right character design! I feel like Franco enjoyers are more agressive than fans of other Outlast character. Even with Coyle/Eddie simps they seem to understand that they are evil and they murder others, but with Franco I feel like they can take it when someone tell them that he's grown up, murder people in very brutal way and his voice lines are just disgusting... it really seems that people are getting agressive only because someone tell some shit about 🎀✨️Franco🎀✨️. I know his fans isn't the only one that have stick in their ass (cause I seen a lot of shit bout Coyle/Big Grunts/Easterman etc.) but yall need to understand that FRANCO IS A GROWN ASS MAN and you would run for your life if you'd meet someone in irl as 1% fucked up as he is. Saying that he's just a Baby and he made nothing wrong is just 🤮 and problem is in yall if you justificate him and things he made.

idk how to tell you this ,,,, but this game is fictional. The characters are fictional. You're free to feel however you want about them, just like I and anyone else is.

I partially agree with the part about changing his appearance to make him look more "normal" or whatever, but at the same time people are allowed to interpret their favs however they want to. They can draw / write for him however they want to. I don't like "fixing" his face, just because it (personally) feels like saying "he's too ugly", but again, that's just me. As an artist, I know that people are going to have different interpretations of a character I like. It's just part of other people existing in the world. Not everyone thinks like you do, and that's okay.

Do you know how many posts I saw (and STILL see) about Eddie Gluskin, doing essentially the same thing as what you said people do with Franco?? That man would cut you open to "make a baby in you" no hesitation and people still ""romanticize"" him (me fuckin included I LOVE YOU EDDIE). Its just part of liking fucked up characters, some people are going to want to make them more "normal".

Personally, I see the normalization as more like wanting to give him some normalcy in his life, because of his past / lore. I love the idea of letting Franco have a normal life, be a normal person. A life where he never had to deal with the stupid Mafia stuff, had a decent father and never ran into Murkoff, having a normal, happy life. But, I also seriously adore his original, fucked up character.

Honestly, who actually cares if people are "justifying" his actions??? None of them are real. He is not real. I have never understood the sentiment that you have to make sure people know you don't justify a fictional characters actions... they are not real. It's not a real person. None of the things he did happened.

Maybe it's just me, but I would not run from someone like him. That's not some edge lord "im so evil and dark" bs but because of my real life experiences. Been with and around people in my life / family who are quite like him and I didn't run.

I imagine some of us are using it as a sort of coping mechanism, because (at least for me) some of us dealt with people who treated us like he would. Though, that's getting into personal territory, and I won't try and speak for others.

All I can really say is either learn that not everybody's going to have the same ideas as you or block the tag. Sorry if that's too harsh a response, but life is too short to really give that much of a fuck about someone /something other people like.

And I've said this before but this is literally Outlast, all of the characters are this fucked up, it's not just him.

Like does no one remember Outlast 2??? Does no one remember the pile of dead burnt babies, or the hundreds of other fucked up things in that game?? I really feel like Franco does not compare.

So, can we please just be over with this now? I mean, drama is totally fun and I love it, but I can imagine others don't.

[mars-ipan]

i do miss being a little kid and creating the most vividly fucked up stories with my toys that i could

[perfectlullabies]

i love yall who have sideblogs for being esp slutty, couldn't be me tho i throw it all here and i'm (not) sorry

[seven-circlllxs]

Into the Pit {Muse Masterlist}

NOTE: Muses may use neopronouns, but writing partners may default to he/she/they/it terms if they find those easier to use!

NOTE 2: Muses are heavily influenced by headcanons, some of which are listed in their bios!

Abel Primo - Gender Questioning (AMAB) - Demisexual Demiromantic

Name: Abel Primo

Nicknames: Abes, Little A

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically and Mentally around 24 (Died at age 122)

Birthday: Tishrei 1, 3979 BC (Celebrates on October 29th!) [Scorpio]

Height: 5'9"

Gender: Gender Questioning (AMAB) - Presents Male

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Gold/Goldself, Lamb/Lambs

Sexuality: Demisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Grand Marshall / Drum Major of Heaven, Heir Apparent to the Exterminator Angel Army

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

Alastor - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Asexual Aromantic

Name: Alastor

Nicknames: Al, The Radio Demon, Bambi [Do not use this unless you want to endure bodily harm : ) ]

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 38 at death (Died 1933)

Birthday: September 19th (Virgo)

Height: 7'0"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Presents Male

Pronouns: He/Him, It/Its, Static/Staticself, Radio/Radioself, Deer/Deerself, Loa/Loaself, Veve/Veveself

Sexuality: Asexual Aromantic

Occupation: Overlord of Hell, Charitable Patron of the Happy Hotel, Broadcaster

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Alastor has always been a bit of a mystery to the other Overlords in hell, and nearly every sinner has a story explaining his arrival and the source of his immense power.

Not one of them has come even halfway close to the truth.

When he was alive, he tried and failed several times to secure a job as a radio announcer in his home city of New Orleans. It was in the damp, boggy woods of the Louisiana bayou where Alastor first made a connection with his dark patron, a Loa draped and encumbered by rusting bloodied chains, whose empty eyes yearned for gore and carnage and fixed themselves, burning, onto the man’s very soul. Alastor summoned Bakulu with the fresh blood of a black rooster, and for his offering was rewarded with a position live on air. But of course, one measly offering would not be enough to satiate his dark patron, nor would it have been enough to fulfill Alastor’s own desires. He graduated to goat’s blood, and one by one, the hosts of the city’s most well-known radio shows began to disappear, leaving the publics’ ears eagerly tuned in to him.

And it still wasn’t enough. Bakulu, it seemed, was most pleased by larger offerings, and Alastor soon found himself quite comfortable with a hunter’s rifle pressed snug into his shoulder, a deer (or, preferably, a more bipedal target) caught between his crosshairs. His little hunts were quite the form of stress relief, and the earth drank his sacrifices greedily. It didn't hurt that cleaning the bodies and leaving the blood and bones afforded Alastor with top quality meat at the price of a box of bullets.

But humans are full of error. And errors leave humans prone to accidents. When Alastor was caught and killed by a hunter and his dogs, his own blood served as his final offering to the dark Loa. His spirit was entwined with some of Bakulu’s wretched power, allowing him to manifest in Hell absolutely alive with vodou magic. And gifting him with endless airways waiting to be bathed in the blood of his victims.

Currently, Alastor is amusing himself by keeping a watchful eye over the Princess of Hell's passion project, waiting for her well-intentioned attempt at rehabilitating sinners to implode on itself. His tendency to observe the struggles and failures of others as entertainment stems from his tendency to sensationalize reality, although in Hell, reality doesn't need too much embellishment to be engaging.

Andrealphus - Genderqueer (AMAB) - Homosexual Panromantic

Name: Andrealphus

Nicknames: Andre, Alphie

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: A beauty never reveals her age, darling~. [About 40]

Birthday: January 29th (Aquarius)

Height: 10'0"

Gender: Genderqueer (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Bird/Birdself, Ice/Iceself

Sexuality: Homosexual Panromantic

Occupation: Grand Marquis of Envy

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Hatched and raised by a family with a very powerful standing within the hierarchy of the House Goetia, Andrealphus has always been an instigator. As a very young chick, he was inquisitive and observant, traits he has carried with him into adulthood. When his little sister Stella was hatched, Andrealphus was quickly forced into the role of the dutiful big brother, much to his annoyance. His sister wasn't his baby, she was his sister, it was dumb that he had to make sure she was alright all the time instead of having fun. It was then he began to orchestrate games that only he knew he was playing, games where the consequences left him out of trouble and left Stella looking like an overly rambunctious nuisance. Or at least, that was what was supposed to happen. Instead, his parents shamed him for not being able to "control his sister's fits," not as if they could either even if they'd tried.

When Andrealphus was about twelve years old, his ten-year-old baby sister was betrothed to King Paimon's owl son, Prince Stolas. Stella was not at all subtle about her resentment of the arrangement, but it left a bitter, seething feeling in Andrealphus' heart. Why was it that Stella kept getting things handed to her easily? He was the first-born heir to their Goetia lineage, he was the one with his name in grimoires, why did she get a shortcut to love when she didn't even want it? After Stella had finished angrily crumpling the photo of the owl prince up and abandoned it in the trash, Andrealphus took the token for his own. This "Stolas," he deserved better than a screeching loon like his sister. He deserved proper royalty. Someone who had a grand purpose, like.. Himself.

When not silently plotting to shift any given circumstance into his favor, Andrealphus enjoys spreading and sharing gossip about anyone and everyone. Secrets are a valuable currency, and Andre knows just how to entice someone into sharing what they've heard.

Arackniss - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Asexual Demiromantic

Name: Arackniss

Nicknames: Nissy, Niss

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 45 at Death (Died 1952)

Birthday: December 31st (Capricorn)

Height: 3'8"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Presents Masculine

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, It/Its, Spider/Spiderself, Shot/Shotself

Sexuality: Asexual Demiromantic

Occupation: [Pending]

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

As the eldest son of a ruthless mafioso, Arackniss grew up with a lot of pressure saddled square across his shoulders. His father expected nothing less than devotion and perfection, and anything short of perfection received physical discipline at minimum. His quick wit, quicker trigger finger, and venomous tongue all formed out of a need to survive being berated, beaten, or otherwise eviscerated by his father or the men who worked for him. He became a caretaker to his younger twin siblings once they needed more mobile supervision, and resented the fact that he had been labeled as their de-facto caretaker when they weren't with their mom. Caretaking and child-raising was for the broads, and it didn't take a genius to understand what his father was implying by making him the babysitter.

When Arackniss died, it was in a shootout instigated by his little brother with a rival family. He died protecting his family, and that was what mattered. Not that he was 45 years old, not that he was days away from being the don's right hand, not that he had his purpose taken away by his goddamn brother!

He fell into Hell alone and spiteful, and once his father finally passed, he reunited with him, and committed the sinner's name of Henroin to his memory. That was who was in charge now, and Arackniss fell eagerly into line, into what he knew, into what kept him safe.

Not that he particularly likes being under his father's thumb again..

Asmodeus - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Omnisexual Demiromantic

Name: Asmodeus

Nicknames: Oz, Ozzie, Dee, Big Daddy (from Fizzy usually)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically 38, Actually 5,000+

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; celebrates on February 14th

Height: 46'3" at his tallest, 8'-ish when in his civilian form and/or shrunken to fit into smaller spaces

Gender: Gender Apathetic (Intersex) - Presents Masc or Masc-Androgyne

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Lust/Lustself, Sin/Sinself

Sexuality: Omnisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Herald King of Lust, Club-Owner, Sex Toy Manufacturer/Designer

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

As one of the Seven Deadly Sins, Asmodeus has always been a very passionate and driven being, while also adding a certain amount of his own flair to each of his projects. Before being formally cast out from Heaven, he was sent by God to test Tobias' faith in Him. While on Earth, he grew smitten with Sarah, the intended bride of Tobias, and possessed her first seven husbands on their wedding nights to be intimate with her. He showered her in lust and want, before leaving her to rest and stopping her husbands' hearts (not intentionally, of course, but being possessed by an angel isn't the most stabilizing of experiences-), leaving their lifeless bodies to be discovered in the morning. He attempted to possess Tobias in the same way, but Tobias had been given the help of the Archangel Raphael, and finally, Asmodeus was cast out and into Hell, to join his fallen siblings.

Upon his arrival in Hell, Lucifer assigned him to the Fifth Lowest Ring, allowing him to craft it into whatever he wished it to be. Lust began as a simple den of consensual depravity, but, over time, Ozzie began to lean into Lucifer's "Seven Ring Circus" blueprint, what with Mammon being the Clown of Greed and Bee-lze acting as the Aerial and Animal acts both in one, and began to present himself as more of a sexual magician, for lack of a better term. He developed toys, founded clubs for his citizens to explore one another's forms, and began performing in his own lounge.

In the current day, Ozzie is a charismatic, charming Sin, who encourages the free exploration of lust between any and all consenting parties. He's not above a little scheming to make sure things play out the way he feels they are supposed to, and is fiercely protective of those he cares about.

Barbie Wire - Gender Apathetic (AFAB) - Demisexual Aromantic

Name: Barbie Wire

Nicknames: Barb, BB

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 36 (Can match with any Blitzø)

Birthday: April 3rd (Aries)

Height: 5'10"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AFAB) - Presents Femme or Femme-Androgyne

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, Imp/Impself, Cirque/Cirqueself

Sexuality: Demisexual Aromantic (to her knowledge)

Occupation: Drug-Runner, Contortionist

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Barbie Wire and her twin brother Blitzø were born into a traveling circus family ringmastered and run by their father, Cash Buckzo. Both implings were very close with their mother, Tilla, and Barbie in particular served as Tilla's shadow for the longest time. Her and her twin brother learned and performed under their father's less-than-watchful eye, and quickly became favorites of their audience with their synchronized trapeze routines and tandem juggling acts. The twins were soon joined by another impling, their new pseudo-sibling, Fizzarolli, and the three of them took alternating turns in Cash's temperamental, money-driven spotlight.

Circus life served Barbie and her brothers well until Fizz's 18th birthday. That was when everything went to shit. Fizz had managed to secure a spot in Mammon's Big totally Non-Exploitative Clown Pageant Competition, which had brought the circus down into the Greed Ring for a limited performance after the contest. Barbie and Fizz had been paired off by Cash for a partner act after Blitzø routinely fumbled the clubs used for the juggling aerial act's rehearsal. There was no way they were going to allow Blitzø to juggle the clubs while on fire, as they were supposed to be. During Fizz's party, disaster struck.

Blitzø, as the circus would soon discover, had gone off to practice the routine on his own, complete with fire, desperate to prove to his father that he was worth being paid any attention to. And he'd dropped the clubs. Again.

Barbie was stranded in the tent with her mother as the fire consumed the entire circus grounds, up until her mother shoved her, choking, out of the blaze and into the open smoky air. There was only screams, only panic, only vibrant green flames that glittered with emerald violence.

After the fire, Barbie did the only thing she could think of to do; she ran. Her brother had killed their mom, had burned their family alive, had destroyed everything she loved, and so, she ran. She ran headfirst into addiction, into alcohol, desperate to spark any sort of joyful sensation, fuck, any sensation at all, and eventually found herself strung out on H-8. Blitzø re-entered her life by force after a near-fatal overdose, checking her into rehab while she was comatose and recovering in the hospital with a note simply saying Sorry. : (

A bitter, snippy, and guarded woman, Barbie Wire is not too keen on friends, and not too eager to reconnect with her remaining family. She misses Fizzarolli, but doesn't trust how close he is with not one but two of the Deadly Sins. He's doing well for himself, and that's what she cares about most.

Baxter - Transmasc (AFAB) - Asexual Demiromantic

Name: Baxter

Nicknames: Bax, Baxxy

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 19 at Death (Died 1913)

Birthday: March 12th (Pisces)

Height: 4'2"

Gender: Transmasc (AFAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Lure/Lureself, Fish/Fishself

Sexuality: Demisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Aspiring mad inventor

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

Belphegor - Gender Apathetic (AFAB) - Demisexual Omniromantic

Name: Belphegor

Nicknames: Bell, Belphie, Gor, Gorey, Eggie

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically 34, Actually 5,000+

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; celebrates on August 10th

Height: 50' roughly in full demon form, 7'3" when in her civilian form and/or shrunken to fit into smaller spaces

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AFAB) - Presents Feminine

Pronouns: She/Her, Sloth/Slothself, Sin/Sinself, Sleep/Sleepself, Pill/Pillself

Sexuality: Demisexual Omniromantic

Occupation: Herald King of Sloth, Inventor/Manufacturer of Medicines and Sedatives, Head Doctor of St. An's Hospital in Dreamsville

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Belphegor is a creator and inventor first and foremost- well, not exactly. She is a narcoleptic first and foremost, and a creator and inventor second. As one of the only Deadly Sins to frequently visit the mortal realm, the Sloth Ring has some of the most updated medical technology available, which she uses to mass-produce and invent all sorts of new medicines which are distributed all throughout Hell.

Belphegor, known first to mortals as Baal-Peor, served as a masculine-presenting patron of the Moab, an Assyrian kingdom along the shore of the Dead Sea. While there, she indulged in deceiving mankind by assuming a female form and initiating grand orgies, as well as encouraging other sorts of debauchery that made men exhausted and only able to indulge in bodily pleasures. When Moses and the Israelites escaped from Egypt and crossed through the sea into Belphegor’s lands, some of his followers began to worship her instead of God. These acts of worship enraged Moses, and Belphegor could only watch as her new flock was slaughtered by their former shepherd. Rage bubbled up in her at this violence, and she set off to gather as many of the fallen souls as she could, granting them new forms and infusing their spirits with the essence of Hell, creating the first Baphomet demons. The resulting argument between her and Lucifer about whether or not the human souls were still human enough to be sinners meant that she got to keep them, and they currently serve as her highest council within the Sloth Ring, and can travel freely between Sloth into Pride at their leisure.

As Hell continued to expand and thrive above Belphegor's head, she found herself summoned to the aid of her fellow Sin, Satan. Under his command, Belphegor explored the mortal realm once more, trying to discover if the love shared between a married man and woman could be exploited or otherwise corrupted into a damnable offense. While she did not find any conclusive evidence that marriage could ultimately lead to sin, she did find a second home in the seedy underbelly of Paris, France. She frequented clubs, seduced men and women alike, and smoked every substance she could get her hands on. She routinely visits Paris and has since adopted a Parisian accent, as well as frequently using French in casual conversations.

Boris - Genderqueer (AMAB) - Omnisexual Demiromantic

Name: Boris

Nicknames: Bory, Ouro, Oura (pronounced Aura)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 32 at Death (Died 1978)

Birthday: February 17th (Aquarius)

Height: 7'3"

Gender: Genderqueer (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, It/Its, Hiss/Hiss-self

Sexuality: Omnisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Sex Worker

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

Charlie Morningstar - Genderflux (AFAB) - Sapphic Femmesexual

Name: Charlotte Morningstar

Nicknames: Charlie, Lottie, Starshine

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 36

Birthday: June 27th (Cancer)

Height: 6'1"

Gender: Genderflux (AFAB) - Presents Femme or Femme-Androgyne

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, Fall/Fallself, Sparkle/Sparkleself, Rain/Rainself

Sexuality: Sapphic Femmesexual

Occupation: Princess of Hell, Heiress of Sin, Owner/Operator of the Happy Hotel

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

As Princess of Hell and Heir to the Throne of Sin, Charlie Morningstar has always tried to see the good in every demon around her. She wants nothing more than to guarantee the safety and happiness of all of her people, stretching from Pride all the way down into Sloth. Her cheerful disposition and optimistic outlook on life is refreshing to some and incredibly annoying to others, and it is very hard for her to understand where that line gets crossed. She also struggles with non-verbal social cues, and can’t stand being talked down to.

Cherri Bomb - Demigirl (AFAB) - Polysexual Panromantic

Name: Cherri Bomb

Nicknames: Cherri, Bomb-Pop

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 27 at Death (Died 1989)

Birthday: December 13th (Sagittarius)

Height: 5’8”

Gender: Demigirl (AFAB) - Presents Femme

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, Fuse/Fuseself

Sexuality: Polysexual Panromantic

Occupation: Freelance Arsonist

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Cherri is one of Pentagram City's biggest and loudest party girls. Her high energy lifestyle and tendency to cause carnage got her entangled with Vox, who uses her destruction as a means to make her into a viral sensation. It was through her interactions with the TV Overlord that she met and befriended Angel Dust, and the two became all but glued at the hip to one another.

Despite her inclination towards random acts of pyrotechnic violence, Cherri does have a more calm and caring side to her. Her number one priority is making sure herself and those she calls her friends are safe and well taken care of, even if it means blowing up some of the Vees' public property as a distraction. While she has yet to actually check into the Happy Hotel, she is very supportive of Angel in his attempts to make it through yet another rehab program.

Cherri is a very physically affectionate person, and if she likes you, you'll know it. She tends to lean on people she likes, drapes her arms around people's shoulders, and shows other such displays of closeness when she's comfortable.

Collin - Transmasc (AFAB) - Bicurious Demiromantic Asexual

Name: Collin

Nicknames: Collie, Collie-Flower

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 20

Birthday: April 19th (Aries-Taurus Cusp)

Height: 1'7"

Gender: Transmasc (AFAB) - Presents Masc

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Cherub/Cherubself

Sexuality: Bicurious Demiromantic Asexual

Occupation: Ex-C.H.E.R.U.B. Employee, Current Occupation Unknown

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Collin is a kind-hearted, generous, albeit timid cherub (ex-cherub now) who wants nothing more than to help souls in need. He is a very physically affectionate and nuzzly person, and struggles with a stutter when overwhelmed or nervous.

He has found himself deeply overwhelmed ever since him and his former C.H.E.R.U.B. coworkers have started working with the D.H.O.R.K.S. agency in an attempt to (Heaven help him,) get revenge on the imps that caused them to be cast down from Heaven. There's so much hatred and violence around him now, and he absolutely despises it! He hopes that they will return to doing good deeds and spreading love and gentleness as a way to redeem themselves and to prove to Heaven that they're worthy of returning one day.

Emily - Agender (AFAB) - Asexual Omniromantic

Name: Emily

Nicknames: Em, Emmy, E, Mimi

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically 26, Actually 3,000+

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; celebrates [pending]

Height: 6'1"

Gender: Agender (AFAB) - Presents Feminine

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, We/Us, Divine/Divineself, Joy/Joyself, Seraph/Seraphself

Sexuality: Asexual Omniromantic

Occupation: High Seraphim of Heaven

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

Glam - Cisgender (AFAB) - Asexual Aromantic

Name: Glam (Glamantha)

Nicknames: Glammy, Glimglam, Clam/Clammy (do NOT use this unless you're Glitz)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 22

Birthday: August 8th (Leo)

Height: 6'3"

Gender: Cisgender (AFAB) - Presents Femme

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them, Mirror/Mirrorself, Eel/Eelself

Sexuality: Asexual Aromantic (unless established otherwise)

Occupation: Half of Mammon's New Brand Babies, Aerial Artist, Performer

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterlist Pending]

Glamantha, or Glam as she prefers to be called, is a vicious competitive spirit and a cool, controlled, and clever woman. She is incredibly talented, and prides herself on being one of the best performers in Hell. Alongside of her sister Glitz, she constructs and performs acrobatic routines, clown tricks, and has a huge passion for aerial silks.

As a succubus hybrid, one would anticipate Glam to be hypersexual and desire as much intimacy as possible. One would be wrong. Glam is repulsed by the concept of physical intimacy between herself and other people, and only performs sexual acts in order to feed her succubus needs or to market herself and her sister as more stereotypical "Sexy Twins." To her knowledge, she is aromantic; when asked, she simply explains that nobody has ever had enough cash to love her right.

Glam is very outwardly collected, to balance out her sister's manic and hyperactive nature. She rarely smiles, and does not enjoy the sound of her own laughter. Her preferred emotions to display are apathy and judgement; being bitchy makes people more eager to try and please her.

Husk - Cisgender (AMAB) - Pansexual Aromantic

Name: Husk

Nicknames: Husker, Husky, Spades, Aces

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 75 at Death (Died 1972)

Birthday: November 1st (Scorpio)

Height: 5'8"

Gender: Cisgender (AMAB) - Presents Masc

Pronouns: He/Him, Deal/Dealself, Bet/Betself

Sexuality: Pansexual Aromantic (to his knowledge)

Occupation: Bartender at the Happy Hotel

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Husk is a generally apathetic soul, having lost faith in the ability of any one person to be good after witnessing atrocities during war. Upon arriving in Hell, Husk eagerly resumed in his gambling habits, finding himself winning the only thing that wayward sinners had to bet; their souls. Husk took up residence in one of Hell's many casinos and quickly found himself in a position of massive power.

Power which got to his head and inflated his already top-heavy ego. His games became sloppier, and he slowly began to lose more and more of the accidental influence he had acquired. After years of losses and decline, he was befriended and trapped by Alastor, who won his soul in Husk's last gamble as an Overlord, and now serves him in a state of strange voodoo debt/friendship/whatever you want to call it.

Husk is naturally a very protective person, and often uses his few friendships to rationalize going through the motions of a day. He has always been more inclined to stay undetected; it's easier to swindle people out of their minds and money when you're keeping a low profile.

Husk has a passion for magic tricks, specifically card-based magic. He also has a soft spot for music, although he does not generally like to sing outside of his own room.

Leviathan and Behemoth - Agender Demigirl (AFAB) - Demisexual Aromantic / Asexual Demiromantic

Name(s): Leviathan and Behemoth

Nicknames: Levy, Vivi, Anne, Annie / Mimi, Thea

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically 37, Actually 5,000+

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; celebrates on September 14th

Height: 100' roughly in full demon form, 7'5" when in her civilian form and/or shrunken to fit into smaller spaces

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AFAB) - Presents Feminine

Pronouns: She/Her, It/Its, Sin/Sinself, Envy/Envyself, Twin/Twins

Sexuality: Demisexual Aromantic (Levy) / Asexual Demiromantic (Mimi)

Occupation: Twin Herald Kings of Envy

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

In the beginning, the world was granted three beasts to guard the Land, the Sea, and the Skies; Behemoth, the Earthbeast, took up residence in the deserts east of the Garden of Eden. Ziz, the Skybeast, governed the winds and the birds. And Leviathan, the Seabeast, was given a home within the deepest depths of the newly created oceans. Along with this new home, the first Seadragon was given a mate; a female in its' own image, to populate the ocean with all sorts of creatures, to spawn more sprawling gargantuan creatures that would thrive in the depths. The two leviathans thrived in the Tehom, the abyss, until the day came that God grew weary of such massive beasts creating more of themselves. He grabbed the female Leviathan by the throat, hoisting her high into Heaven and out of the abyss, and cut her from chest to tail-tip. He then took her meat, anointed her flesh with salt, and carefully pulled her skin off of her flesh. With her skin, He created a fabulous gilded cloth that would never ruin, and a grand tablecloth for her meat to be served upon, as a grand gift to the righteous after the End Times.

And then, He cast her aside, a wretched, skinless thing with barely enough substance to be called a living shape. She fell into the Nothing that surrounded the World, until finally, she was greeted by a force lurking in the darkness. She called to it, her voice rasping and broken, pleaded with it to save her in some way. The creature said nothing, but it opened its' maw wide, and captured the fish-bones between its' teeth.

Leviathan tumbled down into Hell, now full enough with flesh to call herself alive again, but.. She was not alone. The thing that had trapped her in its' jaws had sewn their spirits together; Leviathan was the Hellmouth, and the Hellmouth was now a part of Leviathan, full of envy and resentment. She inspected herself as she stumbled to find the nearest water, the deepest depths that they could find, and she felt.. They felt..

Beautiful.

The Hellmouth took on a new name, one that comforted the poor skinny wretch she had fused herself to, and together, Leviathan and Behemoth took to the sixth ring's deep abyss, taking their place as the Deadly Sin of Envy for all to admire, to crave, to despise and detest.

Loona - Ferusgender Azurgirl (AFAB) - Panflux Asexual Demiromantic

Name: Loona

Nicknames: Loonie, Loonie-Toonie, Loony-Tune, LooLoo, Woona, Wooloo, Loon (Ask before using nicknames unless you want to be bitten OR are Blitzø)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 22

Birthday: August 12th (Leo)

Height: 7'2"

Gender: Ferusgender Azurgirl (AFAB) - Presents Femme

Pronouns: She/Her, Woof/Woofself, Wolf/Wolfself, Hound/Houndself, Bitch/Bitchself

Sexuality: Panflux Asexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Receptionist at I.M.P.

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Loona was born to a mother who did not want her and an absent father. Instead of taking the effort to drop her off at the pound in the Pride Ring, Loona's mother left her unwanted pup in a dumpster and simply walked away, reasoning that there were plenty of hungry wrath-coons who would take care of her. She was instead rescued by a strange imp who heard her whimpering and resolved to take her in and at least give her a bath. Loona served as his daughter until she reached the age of 4 and ran away as a form of rebellion after a heated argument over why he'd taken her favorite toy from her. Back on the street, Loona was caught by Hound-Patrol officers and registered into the Hellhound Shelter System.

Loona remained in the Shelter System until the age of 17, just barely 18, passed from home to home, the memories of her caretaker fading at the edges into a hazy reddish blur. Had she ever had a real home? Had she ever been more than just a glorified pet? Maybe the Shelter staff were right about her, maybe she was too violent, too aggressive. Maybe she'd just be a washed up nobody until she died.

Until she was found, finally, by a face she thought she'd imagined. Blitzø, now armed with the proper adoption papers, brought Loona back home with him a few months before her 18th birthday, and has continued to live with Blitzø in a sort of strange father-daughter-but-also-roommates setup. Her surly attitude and harsh exterior keep her safe from strangers, but those who truly know her understand that she is a very passionate and caring individual, if she deems you worth caring about.

Lucifer Morningstar - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Omnisexual Omniromantic

Name: Lucifer Morningstar

Nicknames: Luci, Lu-Lu, Starfire, Duckie (by romantic partners only)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically 40, Actually 5,000+

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; celebrates on September 29th

Height: 5'2”

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Sin/Sinself, Damned/Damnedself

Sexuality: Omnisexual Omniromantic

Occupation: Herald King of Pride/Ringmaster of Hell

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Lucifer is, at his core, nothing if but a dramatic bitch. Having been God's favorite, and being subsequently cast out of Heaven for voicing his opinions and quote unquote stubborn beliefs, he knows the power of words and the power of self-image. Luckily for him, he is a wonderful wordsmith and stands firm to his image as the Herald King of Pride and the Grand Ringmaster of all of Hell, presenting and projecting himself as a cocky, confident leader with a taste for dad jokes.

As a father, Lucifer has tried his best to support his daughter, Charlie, and often fears that he's raising his princess wrong due to who raised him. He is a devoted husband to his lovely Lilith, although the two are in a mutually agreed upon open polyamorous relationship; as long as they tell one another who they are seeing, they may find joy in the company of whoever else they wish.

As a sibling figure to the other Sins, Lucifer has the perilous position of balancing the Sins' viewpoints into some semblance of a functional system. He loves them all as family, even if they get on his nerves sometimes when they make stupid decisions, like copying his amusement park in a ring where he could never take proper legal action, Mammon.

Lute - Agender (Female Presenting) - Asexual Aromantic

Name: Lute

Nicknames: Lieutenant

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Technically Ageless, Presents Early Thirties

Birthday: Technically doesn't have one; does not celebrate

Height: 7'2"

Gender: Agender (Female Presenting)

Pronouns: She/Her, Arch/Archself, It/Its

Sexuality: Asexual Aromantic

Occupation: Head Exorcist/Exterminator of Heaven, Assistant to Adam

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Lute is Heaven's champion of holy retribution, and serves God and Adam with a twisted righteousness. She has been Adam's second hand ever since Adam was made a higher divine power in Heaven, and was initially crafted with the purpose of serving him in whatever means he chose. However, her true talent became clear when she was first assigned as a soldier to expel sinners from passing through the Gates. When Heaven received news that Hell was facing overpopulation crisis, Lute was among the first to volunteer herself as an Exorcist; an angel who would go down into the sinful abyss and cull as many sinners as was possible in a day.

Since establishing the yearly Extermination Day, Lute has climbed through Heaven's ranks and settled comfortably into the position of Holy Lieutenant.

Moxxie - Cisgender (AMAB) - Bisexual Polycurious Panromantic

Name: Moxxie Knolastname

Nicknames: Moxx, Ox, Moxmox

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 31

Birthday: May 20th (Taurus-Gemini Cusp)

Height: 4'11"

Gender: Cisgender (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, Imp/Impself

Sexuality: Bisexual Polycurious Panomantic

Occupation: Hitman/Assassin for I.M.P.

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Moxxie is, first and foremost, a lover. Not to say that he can't also be a fighter, he can, and often is. Born into a powerful crime family in the Greed Ring's cleverly named Notamafiatown, Moxxie Knolastname was poised from birth to succeed his father, Crimson Knolastname, and take over as the don of the Knolastname crime empire. Unfortunately for Crimson, Moxxie's mother provided him with nothing but gentle kindness, and attempted to show the young imp the value of empathy.

When Moxxie's mother disappeared, Crimson blamed it on Moxxie for being too soft and unable to hold his own well enough. This pushed Moxxie even further from his father and created a void in Moxxie's life of stable, reliable female figures. During a trip to the Wrath Ring, meant to show the now teenaged Moxxie how to extort property out of what his father called "back-assward horse-fuckers," Moxxie encountered a strong, stunning imp who could very easily turn his little twiggy body into an accordion if she chose. She introduced herself as Mildred, and Moxxie felt his blood turn to butterflies just hearing her voice. He made sure to memorize the address of the farm they'd stopped at before they were chased off the property by Millie's siblings, and the two began a relationship as secret pen pals.

A few weeks before Moxxie was promoted into Crimson's second-in-command, his father discovered his stash of mushy love letters while snooping around his belongings for any stray money. Moxxie was forbidden from contacting Millie, and Moxxie was made to watch in frozen horror as his father tossed each letter one by one into the fireplace. Alone and distraught, Moxxie found himself once again without any sort of figure to give him unconditional safety and love. This led him into a fast, lustful, and passionately sloppy relationship with Chaz, a loan-shark demon who was technically one of his subordinates. The relationship between the two lasted until Chaz abandoned Moxxie to be caught by the police.

Once he escaped from prison with the help of his cell-mate, Blitz, Moxxie retreated to the Wrath Ring and sought shelter at Millie's address. Her parents nearly shot him on sight, but Millie managed to talk her father down and herded the bedraggled ex-mafioso into the safety of her arms. The two migrated to Imp City in the Pride Ring once Moxxie was mentally stable enough for a change in scenery, and the two were married not soon after.

Mrs. Abigail Mayberry - Cisgender (AFAB) - Femmesexual Demiromantic

Name: Mrs. Abigail “Abby” Mayberry

Nicknames: TBA

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 36 at Death (Died 2020's)

Birthday: [Pending]

Height: 6’4”

Gender: Cisgender (AFAB)

Pronouns: She/Her, They/Them

Sexuality: Femmesexual Demiromantic

Occupation: [TBA]

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Mrs. Abigail Mayberry would like to classify herself as a happy person, a good person, even! However, that happiness comes at the cost of bottling every ounce of bad feeling and rage that she's ever felt in her life. She had thought that she had mastered the art of deep breaths and refocusing on the positive things in life, especially after her troubled teenage years.

(more TBA)

Travis - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Pansexual Demiromantic

Name: Travis

Nicknames: Trav, Travvy, Schnukums (from Angel Dust only)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 32 at Death (Died 1940's)

Birthday: [to be updated]

Height: 5'10"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Screech/Screechself

Sexuality: Pansexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Valet for the Vees (usually Valentino), Guest Writer and Director for Porn Studios

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Travis likes to think of himself as one of the most fuckable sleaze-balls in all of Hell, and as such, is a bit of a dick on first impression. He arrived in Hell in the late 1940's, and to say it was his own damn fault would be the understatement of the century.

(more TBA, basic plot beats in motion)

Vassago - Genderqueer (AMAB) - Homosexual Demiromantic

Name: Vassago

Nicknames: Vas, Ago, Aggy, Usagoo, Goo, Usa

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 36-ish?

Birthday: August 14th (Leo)

Height: 10'1"

Gender: Genderqueer (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Flame/Flames, Search/Searches

Sexuality: Homosexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Goetic Prince of Pride

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Vassago is a fiery young Goetic demon with a passion for helping those who have been wronged. He is the son of Duke Astaroth Goecia, famed throughout the rings of Hell as one of the most diligent (or belligerent, depending on who you ask-) jurisprudents in the history of Demon Law. It is due to this judicial upbringing that Vassago first had his passion for protecting ignited. He studied under his father, taking notes during every court appearance Astaroth was summoned to partake in, and deeply admired the way that his father would vocally defend the lower born, even under the searing and tempestuous glare of a Deadly Sin.

(more TBA)

Vox - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Omnisexual Demiromantic

Name: Vox

Nicknames: V, Ox Cord (like aux cord)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 41 at Death (Died 1956)

Birthday: October 1st (Libra)

Height: 7'0"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Presents Masc

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Tech/Techself, Screen/Screenself, Control/Controlself, Glitch/Glitchself

Sexuality: Omnisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Overlord of Hell, Owner of Voxtagram, Producer of Technology

Playlist

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Vox was born in 1915 to a freshly married (and subsequently freshly widowed) mother just as the first World War was gaining momentum. He never met his father, but from the way his mother spoke of him, he idolized him in concept. As a young boy, he was fascinated by the concept of telegrams from an early age, and frequently practiced writing messages in Morse code. This fascination fed into a growing passion for technological advancements, which followed him into Hell after his death.

Vox is a naturally innovative mind, and desires to keep himself five steps ahead of all other advancements in technology. He kept close watch over the development and explosion of the Internet, and brought his own bastardized version of wireless networking into Hell, using his Vi-Fi networks and tracking cookies to log every sinner's data, using that information to catapult himself into Overlord status.

His endless drive and single-minded determination soon garnered the attention of Valentino, an intensely powerful young Overlord who struck a bargain with him to help keep track of Val's employees under the guise of specialty tech. In return, Val and Vox would share their Overlord status and influence with one another. Eventually, they encountered and all but assimilated Velvette into their empire, and the Vees have governed vast swaths of the Pride Ring ever since, with VoxTek's reach only growing by the day.

Yogirt - Genderflux (AMAB) - Demisexual Omniromantic

Name: Yogirt

Nicknames: Yogi, Gigi, Yo-Yo, Girty

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: Physically around 28!

Birthday: Technically doesn’t have one, celebrates on December 21st

Height: Usually around 3’7”! Tends to be small!

Gender: Genderflux (AMAB)

Pronouns: He/Him, They/Them, Gem/Gems, Om/Oms

Sexuality: Demisexual Omniromantic

Occupation: Royal Stenographer, Anger Management Counselor and Emotional Support Demon for His Wrathfulness, Satan

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

Yogirt is a Zen Demon, a special race of hellborn hand-crafted by Herald King Belphegor who specialize in therapy and emotional stabilization. Every Zen Demon is prescribed by Belphegor to high-ranking demons who need a special dose of gentle care in their lives.

Usually, Zen Demons exhaust themselves and burn to the wick within a few years of caregiving. When this happens, they are typically discarded by their current owner and must be collected by Belphegor to have their inner wax reserves replenished in one of Sloth's several wax-based spas before being re-prescribed.

When Yogirt was prescribed and delivered to the Sin of Wrath himself, he might have had a teeny tiny little anxiety attack - all internal! Zen Demons aren't allowed to show stress outwardly! - at being the Wrathdrake's new stress-ball. He had seen what the other Zen Demons looked like after a trip to the Wrath King's palace; bone-white and with flames that could barely withstand a strong breeze. Every Zen Demon knew that Wrath Ring nobility was basically a death sentence, so to be prescribed to the King of their Deadliest Sin? It was.. Intimidating! A good challenge! Someone who needed his help more than anybody, really, he had to at least try, even if every fiber of him tried to rebel as Belphegor bound their energies and filled Satan's script for him.

However, he found that, maybe since he had been prescribed quite a few of his predecessors, Satan seemed.. Receptive to his positive affirmations and his use of crystal magic. Heck, he even seemed to let out a chuckle or two at his silver lining statements! Yogirt found himself acclimating quite well to the Deadly Sin and his emotional flares, and he noticed more and more that Satan was easier to soothe as time went on, as he helped to visualize a mind-palace full of positive vibes and healthy flow between chakras (and a few Wrathian house plants in there wouldn't hurt, might even brighten up the space! Yes, I know it's in your brain, sir, but just imagine a plant, or try? For me?)

Yogirt is one of the only Zen Demons who has had the luxury of having his prescription summoned for a proper refill, which he views as a very high honor. He's happy that Satan likes him enough to spend a few days without him while they cram more aromatic wax into the places on his body where wax goes.

Zestial Morde - Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Demisexual Demiromantic

Name: Zestial Morde

Nicknames: Zes, Zesty (from select individuals)

Face Claim: Official Art

Age: 37 at death (Died 1613)

Birthday: November 13th (Scorpio)

Height: 11'4"

Gender: Gender Apathetic (AMAB) - Presents Masc

Pronouns: We/Us, He/Him, They/Them, It/Its, Acid/Acidself

Sexuality: Demisexual Demiromantic

Occupation: Elder Overlord of Hell; Member of Lucifer's Council

[Headcanon Masterpost Pending]

[Bio Pending]

[agayconcept]

Kenderqueer ⚧︎

[agnesandhilda]

rip barbie you would’ve loved coin-operated boy by the dresden dolls

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

Missy,

If I went raw and nutted in your pussy

Don't lie you know you enjoyed it.

[dat2ndaccount97]

Me at 9:00 PM: "It's Barely 9:00 PM om a Saturday why am I tired this sucks!"

Me at 3:00 PM after sipping on an energy drink all night: Wow this is great!! 3:00 AM is the best time to brush Barbie hair!!

[sunni-stuff]

Standing outside your apartment, Simon tightened his grip around the wooden toy train, the corners of the box digging slightly into his palm. His heart thrummed uncomfortably in his chest—a sensation far too foreign for someone who’d faced down worse odds than this. He was used to calculating risks, taking them head-on, but this? This wasn’t a battlefield; it was something infinitely more terrifying. He was meeting his daughter.

He cast a glance at the train in his hand, a sturdy, well-crafted toy he and Johnny had spent hours picking out earlier that day. The shopkeeper’s amused expression still lingered in his mind—two grown men scrutinizing toy trains as though the fate of the world rested on their choice. You hadn’t been specific, just a train, no frills, nothing cartoonish. And so Simon had chosen the simplest one, figuring it was better to err on the side of practicality.

Beside him, Johnny leaned casually against the wall, spinning a plastic-cased mermaid Barbie in his hands. The vibrant teal-and-pink packaging clashed starkly with the air of seriousness Simon carried.

Simon scowled, his gaze darting to the doll. “I told you, no dolls. She said no dolls.��� His voice was low and rough, almost a growl, though it carried more nervous energy than actual anger.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, smirking as he turned the Barbie over in his hands. “What kid doesn’t like a Barbie? Eh? You’re overthinking this, big man.” His Scottish accent lent an irreverent edge to his words. “Besides, it’s just a backup. If she doesn’t like the train—which, let’s face it, is a bloody long shot—I’ve got something she’s bound to love.”

Simon shot him a sharp look. “It’s not about the toy,” he muttered, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “It’s about… makin’ an impression. Proper one.”

Johnny’s smirk softened, his usual teasing tone giving way to something closer to sincerity. “And you think that’s all ridin’ on a train? C’mon, mate, it’s you she’s meeting, not just some toy. Kids aren’t daft—they know when someone’s tryin’.” He tilted his head toward the toy in Simon’s hand. “But, for what it’s worth, that train’s not bad. Proper classic. No gimmicks.”

Simon grunted in response, his attention flicking back to the apartment door. It was a quiet, unassuming building, but the pressure of what lay beyond that door was immense. You were in there with her—Adira. His daughter. The thought still felt surreal, even after the days he’d spent turning it over in his mind. He’d seen her before, from a distance, but that was different. This was too personal in a way he wasn’t sure he was prepared for.

“I should’ve brought the others,” Simon muttered under his breath, more to himself than Johnny.

Johnny’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Aye, because showin’ up with the whole bloody team wouldn’t be overwhelming at all, eh? ‘Here’s yer dad, and here’s his army of uncles.’ Real subtle.”

Simon huffed a dry laugh despite himself, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction. Johnny always had a knack for cutting through his nerves, even when Simon wasn’t in the mood for it.

The sound of footsteps on the other side of the door snapped Simon’s attention back to the moment. His pulse quickened as the lock turned, and the door creaked open to reveal you standing there, a mixture of caution and curiosity etched into your expression. You didn’t say anything right away, your gaze darting between Simon, Johnny, and the toys in their hands.

“Hi,” Simon managed, his voice quieter than he’d intended. He cleared his throat, adjusting his grip on the train. “Uh… thought I’d bring somethin’ she might like.”

You glanced at the train, then at Johnny’s Barbie, raising an eyebrow. “I see Johnny didn’t listen,” you comment dryly, though there was a hint of amusement in your tone.

Johnny grinned, unbothered. “Insurance, lass. Always good to have a backup plan.”

Stepping aside, you gestured for them to come in. “Well, let’s see how this goes. She’s in the living room.”

Simon felt the air grow heavier as he crossed the threshold, each step bringing him closer to something he’d been equal parts dreading and hoping for. The sound of quiet giggles and the rustle of toys came from the living room, and he stopped short in the hallway, his hand tightening instinctively around the train.

“You okay?” you asked curiously, your question laced with something he couldn’t quite place—concern? Reassurance?

He nodded stiffly, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was convincing. “Yeah,” he said, masking his unease. This wasn’t the time to let emotions run wild, not when his daughter was just a few steps away. He needed to reel everything, keep composed.. “Just… takin’ a moment.”

Johnny clapped him on the shoulder, his grin unfaltering. “You’ve got this, mate. And if all else fails—” he held up the Barbie with a dramatic flourish—“I’ve got you covered.”

Simon rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. “Thanks for that,” he muttered dryly.

He took a grounding breath, then stepped into the living room. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks—Adira, sitting cross-legged on the floor, a miniature train set spread out before her. Her dark hair fell in delicate curls around her face, and her eyes, so startlingly like his own, lit up with delight as she guided a tiny train along the tracks.

The world seemed to narrow, every noise fading into the background except for the sound of her soft laughter. This was his daughter, and for the first time, he wasn’t just watching from afar—he was here.

Adira looked up, her curious gaze locking onto him. Simon’s heart leapt into his throat as she tilted her head, studying him with a mix of curiosity and caution. Before he could speak, Johnny stepped forward, a grin plastered across his face as he crouched beside her.

"Hey, bonnie lass," Johnny greeted, bringing in  warmth and cheerfulness. He held out the mermaid Barbie, its plastic casing shimmering in the soft light. “Look what I got for ye.”

Adira blinked at him, her small head tilting to the side in the same assessing way she’d done with Simon. Then, in a voice as sweet as it was blunt, she said, “Ugee.”

Simon held back a laugh, but Johnny froze, his grin faltering. Did she just call me ugly again? he thought, momentarily stunned before recovering with a sheepish laugh.

“Oh, come on, lass. That’s no way to treat yer Uncle Johnny,” he teased, though his pride was clearly bruised. He pushed the doll a little closer, his voice softening. “It’s for you. Look—she’s got a shiny tail and everything.”

Adira’s expression shifted, her curiosity piqued as she finally reached for the doll. Johnny’s face lit up with relief, and he turned to you and Simon with a victorious smirk. “Told ya,” he mouthed, his tone smug.

Simon raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, while you merely crossed your arms, waiting for what you knew was coming.

The sound of plastic ripping shattered Johnny’s moment of triumph. His head whipped around just in time to see Adira pull the doll free from its packaging with surprising efficiency. She studied it for a moment, her tiny fingers gripping the head and the body. And then—pop—the doll’s head came clean off.

Johnny’s jaw dropped as he watched Adira inspect the decapitated doll with silent satisfaction. She set the head down beside her, then held up the now-headless body, apparently contemplating her next move.

Simon let out a chuckle, unable to hide his amusement as Johnny gawked at the scene, his earlier smugness entirely gone. “Well,” Simon drawled, unable to hide his dry humor. “Guess she wasn’t a fan after all.”

Johnny turned back to you and Simon, his expression caught between disbelief and betrayal. “What… what kind of kid just does that?!” he demanded, gesturing wildly at the scene behind him.

You shrugged, biting back a laugh. “I warned you about the dolls.”

Johnny shook his head, still reeling as he muttered under his breath, “She’s Sid from Toy Story incarnate, I swear.”

Adira, seemingly unbothered by the fuss, returned her focus to her trains, contentedly adding the doll’s head to a makeshift pile of "cargo." Johnny looked ready to protest further, but Simon stepped forward, crouching to her level and holding out the wooden train.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his voice steady despite the lingering laughter in his chest. “I brought you somethin’. Thought you might like it.”

Adira didn’t respond right away, her eyes bouncing between him and the toy. Then, slowly, she reached out, her small fingers brushing against the train before taking it from his hands. Unlike the Barbie, she carefully opened the box, her movements deliberate and methodical. She removed the wooden train gently, inspecting it for a moment. Without a word, she added it to the tracks, her attention already back on her play as if nothing else in the world mattered.

Simon stayed crouched, watching her intently. A flicker of relief crossed his face at her acceptance of the gift. The room, heavy with unspoken tension just moments before, now felt lighter, though Simon could feel the enormity of the moment pressing against his chest.

You appeared at his side, crouching slightly to meet his eye, a small grin on your lips. “That’s a good sign,” you murmured, keeping your voice low. “She doesn’t usually let people touch her trains.”

Simon exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His gaze flickered back to Adira, watching as she carefully positioned the new train car alongside the others, her focus unwavering. It wasn’t much—just a small gesture—but it felt monumental. A start.

“She’s got good taste,” Simon adds, a touch of pride in his tongue as he nodded toward the tracks. “Knows quality when she sees it.”

You chuckled, the sound easing the edges of Simon’s nerves. “It’s not just that,” you replied, your eyes lightening as you watched Adira. “Trains are her world. If she’s letting you into it, even a little…” You trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

Simon nodded, his throat tightening with a mix of emotions he wasn’t used to confronting. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply watch her, the curve of her cheek, the determined set of her brow as she pushed the train forward, creating a soft click-clack noise against the wooden tracks. He thought of all the moments he’d missed, all the firsts that had come and gone without him. But now, sitting there on the floor of your apartment, watching his little girl play, he felt something unfamiliar: hope.

“It’s a start,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. And for now, that was enough.

Johnny hung back near the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the tender scene unfold. Simon, a man he’d always seen as unshakable and stoic, was crouched beside Adira, his usually guarded expression diminished by a rare, genuine grin. Johnny didn’t dare interrupt—this wasn’t his moment. He was just a spectator, standing on the sidelines as a long-standing divide finally began to close.

The warmth in the room tugged at Johnny’s own heart, and though he wasn’t one for sentimentality, the sight was too good to pass up. Without a word, he slipped his phone from his pocket, angling it just right to snap a quick picture. Simon’s grin, lopsided and proud, was illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp, his large frame almost comically dwarfed by the tiny train set and the little girl at its center.

Satisfied with the shot, Johnny smirked to himself as he typed out a caption: “Big man, small trains. Heart officially melted. ” He hit send, the photo shooting off to the group chat where the lads were bound to have a field day with it.

Moments later, his phone buzzed with a flurry of responses:

Roach: “Never thought I’d see Ghost look so human.”

Gaz: “He’s got the ‘Dad Look’ down already. Almost feel bad making fun of him.”

Price: “I don’t. Send more pics.”

Stifling a snicker, Johnny shoved his phone back into his pocket. He glanced back at Simon, who was completely absorbed in Adira’s world, watching as she pushed the new train along the tracks with the utmost concentration. The sheer joy and focus on her face seemed to draw Simon further into her orbit, as if nothing else existed but the tiny, clacking train set.

Johnny shook his head fondly. Big, scary Ghost, he thought, brought to his knees by a wee lass and a wooden train. It was a sight he’d never forget.

Johnny slipped out of the apartment with a quiet click of the door, leaving the two of you in a silence that felt both comfortable and weighty. His absence left the air clearer, yet filled with the unspoken. As Adira remained engrossed in her trains, her murmurs creating a gentle rhythm in the background, you found your mind racing with a single, unrelenting question:

What now?

Giving her toys was one thing. Simon showing up, physically present, was a start. But the path ahead of you wasn’t so simple. Building a connection took more than gifts and fleeting moments. Adira was too young to truly grasp the gravity of this shift in her world. Telling her outright that Simon was her father didn’t feel right—not now. That conversation would be better left for a day when she could fully understand it.

You rose from your position near him, brushing off your knees as you took a real long look at her. There it was, in her little mannerisms, her sharp focus, the way her brow furrowed just slightly as she concentrated—it was him. So much of him. And the way Simon’s gaze relaxed as he watched her? You could see it, plain as day. He wanted to be there for her.

And you wanted her to be happy.

The realization hit you with clarity: the best way to make this transition smooth was to let Simon find his place naturally. He couldn’t make up for all the firsts he’d missed, but there was still time for so many more moments.

“So…” you began, your voice quiet but heavy, the word hanging between you like an unspoken question. You turned to face Simon, watching him carefully as he sat cross-legged on the floor, his broad frame surprisingly small in this intimate space. He was still holding that wooden train, his fingers gently brushing over the smooth surface like it was something sacred.

Simon looked up at you, his eyes catching yours, and he shifted slightly, his posture relaxed, but there was something else—something vulnerable yet determined. "So," he echoed, his voice unshakable, though you could hear the undertone of apprehension, a slight tremor of uncertainty beneath his calm façade. He wanted to be open, to show you he was ready for whatever was coming next, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what that was.

You crossed your arms, not out of defiance but out of the need to ground yourself. It was a physical gesture, a way to hold yourself steady in the face of everything that had led to this moment. “This isn’t going to be easy,” you said, the words a simple statement, but they carried meaning.

“I didn’t expect it to be,” Simon replied, his voice firm, the same way it would sound in the midst of a mission, when the stakes were high. The seriousness in his tone wasn’t lost on you. But there was more than just the soldier in him now—there was a father. "But I’m here. I want to try. For her." His eyes darted to Adira, his gaze lingering on her as she lined up her train set with careful precision. It was a look filled with fierce, almost protective determination, and it tugged at your chest.

“For her,” you agreed, your heart swelling with the truth of it. “She deserves that. But it’s not just about showing up with toys. It’s about showing up for her. Being there when she needs you, even if it’s hard. Even if she pushes you away at first.”

Simon’s jaw tightened as you spoke, and you saw the muscles in his neck flex, as though he was fighting against something—maybe the grandness of what this all meant, maybe his own doubts. “I can do that,” he said after a pause, his voice low but resolute. “I will.”

“You’ll have to.” Your tone tender, but you still held that edge of playful taunting. It was your way of testing the waters, of gauging if he was truly prepared for what this would take. “She’s stubborn. Wonder where she gets that from.”

Simon huffed a quiet laugh, and a faint smirk forming on his mouth. For a brief moment, the walls he’d built around himself seemed to weaken, just a little. “Aye, can’t imagine,” he replied, the humor easing some of the tension in the room.

There was a pause, the room settling into a calm that hadn’t been there before. You watched as Simon glanced back at Adira, his eyes lingering on her as she placed another train down, her little brow furrowed in concentration. The sight was almost too much for him—this was his flesh and blood, sitting right there in front of him, in this quiet, domestic world he hadn’t been a part of.

“First things first—likes and dislikes.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, but you didn’t wait for him to respond. You turned on your heel and slipped into the kitchen, the quiet tension that had settled between you both diminishing. Simon, sitting cross-legged on the floor near Adira, was still absorbing the weight of everything unfolding. His gaze followed you as you disappeared into the next room, the brief silence stretching between the two of you.

When you returned, you were holding a file—nothing flashy, just a plain folder. You approached him and handed it over, watching as he hesitated, the weight of the paper in his hands heavier than it appeared.

The sight inside that greeted him threw him off guard—pages upon pages of meticulously written details. At first glance, it looked like a detailed report, every section filled with information about Adira’s daily routine, preferences, and even the smallest of habits. Her favorite snacks, the way she liked her sandwiches cut in triangles. Each page was packed with specifics: her reactions to certain foods, her favorite colors, how she responded to certain sounds and even what she liked to do on rainy days—took him completely off guard.

Simon blinked at it, flipping through the pages as if trying to find a sense of grounding in the flood of information. It was overwhelming, but what struck him the most was how thorough it was—how much you had put into it. Everything about her, everything you alone learned over the years, all laid out for him to see.

The file was thick, packed with details. The more he flipped through, the more surprised he became. Notes jotted in neat handwriting with labeled sections.There wasn’t just filled with cold, clinical notes. It also contained moments of tenderness, small anecdotes about how Adira reacted to certain situations or things that made her smile. You had carefully noted the songs she liked to sing along with, how she would curl up on the couch when she was feeling down, the exact way she liked her bedtime story read.

Simon looked up at you, his expression one of confusion and curiosity. “What is all this?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with surprise.

You offered him a faint smile, though there was no real humor in it. “Before you think I’m crazy or paranoid,” you began, raising your hands slightly in defense, “I work at the daycare around the corner, and Adira comes with me. It’s policy to keep these records—just in case. You know, since some kids have allergies, or there are specific things we need to be aware of.”

He nodded, still flipping through the file, as if seeing this list of Adira’s little quirks and habits for the first time made her seem more real. More like a child who had to be cared for, understood, and loved in ways that went far beyond simply showing up with a toy.

“I didn’t know you’d been keeping track of all of this,” A look of genuine surprise crossed his face. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know you’d been doing so much.”

You shrugged slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “It’s nothing. Just making sure she’s okay.” There was an edge of vulnerability to your words, as if you were downplaying the emotional weight of it all.

Simon’s fingers lingered on the pages, his gaze skimming the words as if trying to understand the depth of the commitment you had for Adira. It wasn’t just about her well-being, it was about every little thing that made her, her.

“You really do know everything about her, don’t you?” he said, his voice tinged with awe.

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you at his reaction. It wasn’t about control or being overprotective—it was about ensuring that every part of Adira’s world was in order, even when you weren’t looking.

“I know what she likes, what she dislikes. I know how she reacts when she’s tired or overstimulated. I know what makes her laugh and what makes her cry. It’s not about keeping tabs, it’s about making sure she feels safe. Especially with everything changing right now.”

Simon absorbed your words quietly, the weight of the file heavy in his hands. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut. You had been doing this alone for so long—carrying the weight of all these little details, managing the complexity of motherhood without the support he should’ve been offering.

“She’s lucky,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “You’ve done more than I can even imagine.”

You didn’t say anything at first. The simplicity of his words caught you off guard, making you feel a bit exposed. “It’s just what you do for them,” you replied, your voice softer now, more vulnerable. “You do what you can to make sure they’re okay.”

Simon closed the file slowly, processing what it meant. He felt a surge of something—guilt, maybe, or a quiet ache—as he realized just how much he’d missed. He’d been absent for so many of the small, seemingly insignificant moments that made up Adira’s life. And now, looking at the file, he could feel the weight of his absence more than ever.

“I want to know it all,” Simon said quietly, his voice full of resolve. “Every little thing. I don’t care how small it seems. I want to learn everything about her.”

Your heart skipped at his words, and for the first time, you felt a sense of stability knowing he’d be around to lift some of the hardship off your shoulders. For once, it wouldn’t just be you anymore.

“Good,” Your voice filled with quiet approval. “Because it’s going to take time. And you’ll need to be patient.”

“I can do that,” he replied, his jaw set with determination. “I’m not going anywhere.”

By 6 AM sharp, there he was—a solid, familiar figure standing at your door with his sleeves rolled up and a faint, hesitant smile. He never asked if you needed help; he simply showed up, ready to lend a hand. Simon didn’t just want to be in your life—he wanted to belong in it. Every visit to your apartment wasn’t just about showing up; it was about figuring out how to bridge the gap between her world and his. You had been Adira's anchor, her everything. Simon understood that, respected it, but he was intent on creating his own place in her little universe—one small gesture at a time.

At first, his kitchen skills left a lot to be desired. You insisted you could handle breakfast on your own, but Simon waved you off, determined to prove himself. Adira sat in her highchair, small fingers clutching a slice of strawberry as she watched her father with wide, curious eyes. He wrestled with the stovetop like it was an enemy combatant, flipping pancakes that somehow always ended up sticking or splattering in every direction. A particularly ambitious flip sent batter flying, splattering across his shirt and the counter.

Adira paused mid-chew, her sharp little eyes zeroing in on the mess. "Messy man," she mumbled around the strawberry, her tone matter-of-fact but laced with childish amusement.

Simon froze, mid-swipe with a paper towel, and glanced at her, eyebrows shooting up. “What’d you call me?”

"Messy man," she repeated, a little more confidently this time, giggling as she pointed at the batter streaked across his chest.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Simon groaned, shaking his head with mock exasperation. “I’ll remember that,” he muttered, though there was no hiding the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

Despite the mishaps, he never gave up. Day by day, the kitchen disasters became fewer. He learned that Adira liked her pancakes shaped like stars if you had the time and that a dollop of whipped cream on top made her clap her hands with delight. He discovered she preferred her strawberries sliced thin, not chunky, and that she hated the crusts on toast but loved when it was cut into neat little triangles.

More importantly, while you were around, Adira began to interact with him in ways you hadn’t expected. She would babble at him as he cooked, her little hands waving animatedly as though she was offering advice. He listened as if she were telling him the most important secrets in the world, nodding solemnly and responding in his deep, rumbling voice.

One morning, as he handed her a plate with her favorite star-shaped pancakes, she looked up at him with a toothy smile, “Thank you, messy man.”

Simon froze, his grip tightening on the plate for just a second before he crouched down to her level. “You’re welcome, love,” The endearing nickname left his lips with ease, carrying an edge of something raw and tender.

You stood in the doorway, watching the scene unfold with a lump in your throat. This wasn’t just about breakfast. It was about Simon trying—every single day—to show her that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was clumsy and imperfect, but it was real. And you couldn’t help but feel the faint stirrings of something like hope, watching the way Adira’s small world seemed to expand to make room for him.

After some time of this new, unspoken pattern settling in—one that felt like a quiet, gradual understanding—Adira seemed to begin warming up to Simon. It wasn’t as deep or instantaneous as it had been with you, but it was enough. Enough for her to sit at the table, nibbling on the pancakes he’d made. Enough to sit near him and listen to his voice without the immediate urge to run to you. And, perhaps most telling, enough for her to offer him a strawberry one morning before daycare.

Still, there were unspoken boundaries. She wouldn’t let him touch her trains, a sacred realm of hers he dared not trespass. And after a while of him being nearby, she’d often wander back to you, clutching at your leg or climbing into your lap, needing the reassurance of your proximity. 

You saw it in Simon’s eyes sometimes, the flicker of hurt that he quickly masked, brushing it off like it didn’t matter. But it did. You could tell. Adira was studying him from the safety of her bubble, keeping her distance as if trying to figure him out. You couldn’t blame her. Adira had lived her life with you as the constant; Simon was a new element in her world, one she wasn’t sure how to integrate yet.

But you couldn’t help but wonder: Did she need just a little nudge? A chance to have a moment with him—just the two of them—without you hovering nearby to catch her if she fell?

That opportunity came one morning when the daycare announced they would be closing down the toddler classrooms for renovations. Since Adira’s classroom was off-limits, she couldn’t come with you, leaving a gap in her schedule for at least a day or two. It was the perfect chance for Simon to step in and watch her alone, just the two of them.

That morning, Simon arrived as usual, but the atmosphere was different. You were already dressed for work, and Adira sat on the couch, her little frame wrapped in her favorite onesie—a fuzzy lavender number with tiny clouds on the sleeves. Her attention was fixed on the cartoon playing on the screen, her pillow hugged tightly to her chest.

You had considered this moment for a while, weighing the risks and the benefits. You knew how much it would mean to Simon if Adira let him in just a little bit more. But it was still a leap. You couldn’t help but feel the protective instinct rising in you, a sharp edge of caution in your chest. If anything went wrong, if Adira seemed uncomfortable or the situation felt off, you’d be home in a heartbeat. It was your job to protect her, to put her needs above all else—even Simon’s. As much as he was trying, as much as he cared, she was still your child, and her safety and happiness mattered most.

Simon raised an eyebrow as he noticed your state of dress and Adira’s lounging figure. “So, it’s just me and her today?”

You nodded, grabbing your keys. “her classroom is closed for renovations. Figured this would be a good chance for you two to spend some time together.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead Simon seemed to take everything in stride, breathing in deeply, knowing his moment was now.

You couldn’t help but study him for a moment longer, as if reading him for any sign that he was second-guessing himself. But then he smiled at you, it was genuine—reassuring. You had to trust him. You had to let him try.

Walking over to Adira, you knelt beside her, smoothing her hair as you spoke. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna hang out with Simon today, okay? I’ll be back soon.” 

Adira’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a tiny pout. “You go?”

“Just for a little while,” you reassured her. “Simon’s going to stay with you, and you’ll have lots of fun. Won’t you?”

Adira looked up at you with those wide, dark eyes, not fully understanding the implications, but offering you a small, shy nod. She then returned her attention to the TV, her little fingers absentmindedly squeezing the fabric of her pillow.

“She’s had her bath, so no worries there,” you swiftly explained, slipping into your role as her mother. “She’s in her onesie because it’s raining today, and for some reason, she loves wearing it on rainy days—I don't understand it but as long as she's happy. There’s food in the fridge, but after a couple of hours, I’d suggest cutting the TV off. Let her color, read, or maybe play with her trains. It gives her eyes a break from the screen. Oh, and rainy days mean pizza. Her favorite place is ‘Mario’s,’ and the number’s on the fridge. She’ll ask for the stuffed crust and extra cheese, light on the sauce.”

Simon absorbed the instructions like a soldier receiving a mission briefing, nodding along as you spoke. His eyes flicked to Adira, who was now idly kicking her feet as she watched the TV, and then back to you. “Got it. Anything else?”

You hesitated for a moment, then let it subside. “Just… be patient with her. She’s still figuring this out. You’re doing great, Simon.”

His lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile. “Thanks.”

You gave him one last glance, scanning for any signs of hesitation or doubt, but his steady demeanor gave you confidence. With a final goodbye to Adira, who waved absently, you headed for the door. With that, you left, the door clicking shut behind you. Your chest felt tight, your every nerve on edge as you walked to work. This was Simon’s test, sure, but it was yours too—trusting someone else with the most precious thing in your life. Only time would tell how it would go.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Simon standing awkwardly in the quiet apartment. Adira stayed exactly where she was, her little form cocooned on the couch, eyes glued to the animated animals bouncing across the TV screen. Simon exhaled through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck as he took in the moment. This was it. His chance.

He crossed the room and sat down next to her, careful not to invade her space. For a moment, the silence stretched between them, thick and uncertain. Adira didn’t so much as glance his way, her focus unwavering as the characters on the screen launched into a cheerful song.

Simon cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the air like an awkward ripple. "So, uh," he started, his voice low and unsure, "you like it when it rains?"

Adira finally looked up at him, her big, curious eyes meeting his. She blinked a couple of times, processing his question, before giving a small, shy nod.

"Yeah?" he pressed, a soft smile creeping onto his face. "What’s your favorite thing about it? The sound? Jumping in puddles?"

Her lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she shifted on the couch, pulling her pillow closer as if using it as a shield. Simon waited, giving her time, not wanting to push. Then, as if finding the courage, she mumbled, “The sound.”

“The sound, huh? Me too,” he said, leaning back a bit to ease the tension. “Kinda peaceful, isn’t it? Makes everything... quiet.”

Adira nodded again, this time a little more confidently. Her tiny fingers started to drum on the pillow in her lap, the rhythm mimicking the pitter-patter of raindrops. Simon caught it and grinned.

“You know,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I used to watch the rain all the time when I was little. Sometimes I’d sit by the window for hours, just listening. My mum always said I’d get stuck there.”

Adira tilted her head at him, her curiosity evident now. “Why?” she asked, her voice soft and a little unsure, as though she wasn’t entirely ready to start talking freely.

Simon chuckled, scratching his chin. “Dunno. Maybe I thought if I stayed there long enough, I’d see something special, like... I dunno, maybe the rain would make magic happen.”

Her eyes widened slightly at the word magic, and Simon felt a small victory bloom in his chest.

“Magic?” she echoed, her tone a mix of skepticism and interest.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied, leaning in just a little, like he was about to share a secret. “The kind that only shows up when you’re really, really patient. You gotta look close, though.”

Adira’s gaze darted back to the TV for a moment before returning to him, her guard lowering inch by inch. She hugged her pillow tighter but didn’t turn away.

“Maybe,” she murmured, almost too quietly for him to hear, “maybe I’ll see magic too.”

Simon’s chest tightened, a warmth spreading there that he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time, he wasn’t just a stranger in her world; he was someone she was starting to let in.

“Maybe you will,” he said softly, leaning back into the couch. He let the quiet fill the space again, content to sit beside her, waiting for the rain—or the magic—to come.

After a few minutes, Adira reached over to the side table where her sippy cup rested. She grabbed it, then paused, her hand hovering. Slowly, she stretched it out toward him. “Drink?” she offered, her voice small but steady.

Simon blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. It wasn’t much—just a sippy cup of watered-down juice—but it felt monumental. “Thanks, but that’s yours,” he said gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She pulled it back and took a sip herself, nodding like she’d made a grand decision.

Simon chuckled softly. “Fair enough.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small step, a tiny opening, and Simon took it as the win it was.

The hours slipped by quietly, the sound of the TV buzzing in the background, and before Simon knew it, the three-hour mark had passed. He glanced at the clock, then at the screen, and with a deep breath, he reached over and clicked the power button.

Adira's eyes widened in shock, her little fingers frozen mid-air as she pointed at the now-black screen. "Why?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and mild frustration. "I wanna watch..." Her words trailed off, her pout deepening as she looked back at him, like she couldn’t quite understand why he’d taken it away.

Simon bit his lip, fighting a chuckle. "You’ve been watchin' for a while now, kiddo," he said, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight hesitation in his voice. "Time to do somethin’ else, yeah?"

Adira stared at him for a long moment, her little brow furrowed as she processed what he’d said. She didn’t seem convinced at first, her gaze darting back to the black screen as if willing it to come back to life. When it didn’t, she crossed her arms over her chest, her lower lip poking out in a full pout.

“I don’t wanna,” she muttered, voice small but firm. It was clear she wasn’t happy with the decision, but Simon had a feeling it was more about the principle of the matter than the TV itself.

“C’mon now,” Simon said softly, trying to soften the blow. “We can do somethin’ fun. How ‘bout we build somethin' together? Or read a book?”

Her little frown deepened, and Simon almost felt bad for turning the TV off. But this was the first time he’d gotten a moment alone with her, and he knew it was important to break the habit, to show her there were other things to do in the world besides the screen.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking between him and the quiet living room. Then, with a small sigh, she uncrossed her arms and stood up, shuffling toward the toy box with little steps, only to find nothing that interested her.

"Books?" she asked, her voice still laced with uncertainty but tinged with the smallest bit of curiosity.

Simon smiled, feeling a wave of relief. “Books it is,” he said, standing up to join her. “I bet we can find somethin’ that’ll be just as fun as that TV show.”

Adira didn’t answer, but the way she grabbed a book off the shelf made Simon’s heart flutter with a tiny spark of victory. 

Adira returned to Simon’s side, holding a colorful book with a soft, focused expression on her face. The cover was bright, featuring two foxes—one with a bushy tail and the other a smaller, more timid-looking one. The title, No Matter What, was written in bold letters above them. She climbed up beside him and, without a word, placed the book in his lap, her small hands brushing gently against it as if offering him a treasure.

Simon looked down at the book, caught off guard by her quiet gesture. He glanced at her for a moment, meeting her eyes. She looked at him with a silent kind of expectation, waiting.

Slowly, he picked up the book, holding it carefully as if it were something precious. “What’s this?” he asked softly, though it was clear he already had an inkling.

“Foxes,” Adira replied simply, her voice soft but firm. “Mama read it. It’s ‘bout love.”

Simon’s heart tugged at the mention of you. He could imagine the way you’d read to her, the soothing cadence of your voice, the way Adira had probably snuggled up beside you during the bedtime ritual. But there was something in Adira’s face now, something that felt like an invitation—a little piece of trust she was offering him, too.

“Well, alright then,” Simon said, his voice soft as he began to flip open the book. Adira sat close beside him, her tiny hands still on the cover, watching his every move with an intense focus. She didn’t rush him. The silence between them felt comforting.

He began to read aloud, slowly at first, as if still gauging her reaction. “No matter what, the foxes knew that they would always be together, through the rain or the snow, through the darkest nights and the brightest days.”

Adira shifted beside him, her little legs crossing as she settled into his side. Her small hand reached for the page as he turned it, her fingers brushing over the illustrations. She didn’t interrupt, just quietly absorbed the words.

As Simon read on, his voice grew more confident, and the warmth of the moment started to settle between them. For a fleeting moment, it felt like they had bridged a gap, one word at a time, one page at a time. It wasn’t much, but it was something—something to build on.

Adira’s gaze remained fixed on the book, but her body had relaxed against Simon’s, the way a child does when they feel safe. As the last pages of the book came into view, she snuggled closer, her head resting against his shoulder.

When Simon finished reading, he let the book fall softly onto his lap. He looked down at her, her eyes half-closed, but still aware and trusting. She looked up at him again, her tiny voice soft as she spoke. “Foxes love each other... no matter what.”

Simon’s heart thudded in his chest, the simplicity of her words hitting him harder than he expected. He wasn’t quite sure what it all meant yet, but in that moment, it was enough to see her so close, so willing to share something so personal. A bond had begun to form—fragile, yes, but it was there.

“Yeah,” Simon said, his voice barely above a whisper, “no matter what.”

With the last of the kids sent off and the staff beginning to clean up, you closed up shop, ready to call it a day. But just as you were locking up, a loud clap of thunder rattled the building, causing you to jump in shock. Your heart raced for a moment, the suddenness of it making you freeze in place.

“Jesus, if Adira was here, she’d lose it,” you muttered to yourself, trying to laugh off the shock. But then, your words hit you like a ton of bricks.

If Adira was here.

A chill ran through you as it dawned on you just how careless you’d been. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had completely forgotten to tell Simon about her fear of thunderstorms. She hated them. Hated the loud crashes of thunder, the flashes of lightning. You’d seen her curl up in a ball, her hands over her ears, eyes wide with terror when the storms hit.

The sound of the storm outside was only getting louder, the thunder now booming and crackling as it came closer. You could imagine Adira, sitting there with Simon, eyes wide and full of fear, clutching whatever comfort she could find, and Simon… God, Simon probably didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t have any idea how to handle it.

Without thinking twice, you dropped everything—your bag, your jacket, anything that wasn’t crucial to getting home. You shot a quick look toward the staff, offering a hasty explanation and apology. Then, without another word, you bolted through the doors, past the remaining parents who were still talking in the lobby, and into the rain.

The rain beat down on you as you sprinted through the streets, the cold droplets stinging your skin as the thunder rumbled overhead. You couldn’t focus on anything but getting home. Adira needs me. Adira needs me.The mantra repeated in your head with each pounding step. Your feet splashed through puddles, the air heavy with the scent of wet pavement and the growing tension in your chest.

It felt like forever as you raced through the downpour, but at last, you reached the building, heart hammering in your chest. You fumbled with your keys, every second feeling like an eternity as the thunder rumbled louder, closer. Hurry, you told yourself, voice shaky as you turned the key and shoved the door open.

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

The air felt thick, and as you stepped inside, your eyes instantly darted to the living room.  

On the couch, Simon was sitting with Adira curled up in his side, wrapped tightly in her favorite blanket. Her little body was nestled against his, her small form practically hidden in the folds of the soft fabric. On the coffee table in front of them were the remnants of their quiet afternoon—plastic plates with pizza stains, her sippy cup placed haphazardly next to the mess. Around them, the stack of books you always read to her was scattered across the table: I Love You to the Moon and Back, The Koala Who Could, What Color is a Kiss?—books that had been a staple in your bedtime routine for as long as you could remember.

The sight of them—Adira calm, safe, resting against Simon—caught you off guard. You’d expected panic, chaos, something more… uncertain. But instead, the two of them looked peaceful. Simon’s hand was gently resting on her back, his other arm loosely around her as she drifted in and out of sleep, her head nestled against his chest. She was calm. And that... that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

You hadn’t expected Simon to be so… natural with her. He’d stepped up in a way you didn’t think was possible, at least not this soon. Maybe you had underestimated him. Maybe—no, you knew—you had underestimated this. 

Simon, with Adira, was something real.

Hi so, this took a while, wanted to make this really long for yall. For me as im writing this, it's 5 AM! I've been working on this since 1 PM yesterday. Long Fics are not my strongpoint, I had so much trouble with this because I'm a perfectionist and my tiny brain often repeats words ALOT. I'm working on it and the best way to improve is to keep writing.

As things currently go, I may write shorter things for this family, I want to develop Adira and Simon's relationship more just not with super long stuff like this. I'd also would love to answer any questions or talk about headcanons anyone has about them. Feel free to send asks!

Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed and by the time this goes up I'm sure I'll still be asleep!

P.S can someone tell me if I do tags wrong, like ive noticed sometimes when I tag it doesn't have the little underline so I keep thinking it doesn't go through </3

BIG ASS TAGLIST: @notsochillnerd @xanvasy @nightunite @reyy001 @liliemb04 @doodle-cat16 @wwe1rdc0re @multy-fandom-lover @skylarmitchell @athenianharpy @mxtokko @watu2ka @gifted-aurora @sapphire-jelly26 @janeety @lem-hhn @natdu @honey-teaaaaaaaa @gg-trini @kawaiivanilla-chan @despairinglakepasta @gaida-511 @jayjkay @watersquirtpewpewboomm @nikt-wazny-y @dragon-bubs @thisishwrworld @prettygirlwhoreadsatnite @illusionistlover @just-pure-trash @theliqouricebtch @sullyoung @me-llyssa @drewsuncrustables @phosphoracat @sabrina-senpai @shadowdark00 @imttryi @brokenxintroverted @eevily @aiyaaayei @coffeeandtealol @codcosplayer @scaleniusrm @momoewn @classaysstuff @fancymilkshakewitch @tessakate @a-lil-bit-nuts @beautifuleaglealpaca @vickieesstuff @captainchrisstan @alyyaanna @kaeyasfuturewife @huehuehuehuehehe @allllium @the-number7 @idfkimhereforsmut @katzarantos @tamayakii @7haze @k-bakuhoe @armycaratlover @thecoolestastrophile @montenegroisr @little-b33 @pantheonofbeauty @oooof-ifellforyou @ang3lc @littleracco0n @dravenskye @supaturtl3 @maciswack @carebear209 @bassandlace @3ndar @bespectacledhuman @xshellchenx-blog @astro-stars @avavie @vexillum-moeru @nina-from-317 @gazsluckyhat @1-800-g00ber @yukisdelusional @styx-eclipsed @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @nommingonfood @idkwhattodosooo @noheadcanons-juststories @zaqnette @fluffysmiko @aliciamorov @mageknight-anya @athaliw @princessloveweird @lucypaulette @hikotaru @julesjunimos @xqhro @blushingskulls @foodisbaepinterestislife @thecursebreaker @harperdoodle @taygirl24 @alfie2401 @devoetee @kodokunarisu-blog @lovealwaysserena

[t4tadrienette]

My notifications are never ending lately because of that Barbie movie post

[verstarppen]

pairing; max verstappen x fem! red bull admin! reader [ no faceclaim ]

a/n; first post since i returned WE'RE SO BACK BESTIES; happy 1 year anniversary to this absolute masterpiece and thank you all for your continuous support :D i have no words to describe how grateful i am to be back making these silly little fics.

[ series masterlist ]

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, ynusername and 807,005 others

mercedesamgf1 Baku wrapped. Some of our fave shots from the weekend you haven’t seen yet 📸😎

view all 31,982 comments

grussellsprout ADMIN WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT ON SLIDE 2?

mercedesamgf1 The legend herself was on facetime! @ ynusername ynusername stop trying to butter me up, replacement mercedesamgf1 :(

ceruleanwilliams KIMI SPOTTED

staraikkonen mercedes! give us more musketeers content and my life is yours

mercedesamgf1 Will do 🫡

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, mickschumacher and 300,121 others

ynusername touching grass because killing george is illegal

view all 41,203 comments

georgerussell63 26°21'28"N 127°47'01"E

dannyavocado KIMI ANTONELLI FOR 2024 🗣️

ynusername YESSSSS

checo_slayrez caption is very demure, very mindful

mickschumacher boooooooo

frederikvestiofficial I'm sorry I can't do it😭 mickschumacher we talked about this fred frederikvestiofficial It's so mean 😭😭😭 ynusername you can do it honey frederikvestiofficial OKAY HERE I GO frederikvestiofficial boo ynusername not enough energy I NEED TO FEEL THE HATE frederikvestiofficial BUT I DON'T WANT YOU TO FEEL THE HATE??? ynusername C'MONNN DO IT frederikvestiofficial BOOOOO ynusername YEAH BABYYY YOU'VE GOT IT

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, totowolff and 211,033 others

ynusername your sign to go rewatch barbie and the three musketeers

view all 240,999 comments

totowolff 😐

ynusername how many times do we have to teach you this lesson old man

georgerussell63 Going out with a bang 😌

lewishamilton If I never hear the word "slay" again, it'd be too soon

maxverstappen1 Slay

frederikvestiofficial Dutchess Ivana Parte in the house

ynusername oh lady barbecue, the pleasure was all mine

mickschumacher finalizing our divorce because you ate my last slice

ynusername oh no whatever shall i do guess im not y/n l/n-verstappen-schumacher anymore

charles_leclerc Wait the tryouts are over? You didn't even look at my resume

maxverstappen1 I tried ynusername sorry buddy, rule #15: no charles leclerc charles_leclerc Damn

kimi.antonelli This is the best thing that's happened since sliced bread

ynusername son you're literally getting in f1 next year kimi.antonelli My point still stands

taglist: @notyouraveragemochii @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @darththrog @slytherheign @idkkkkrkkk @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @nmw-am @thomaslefteyebrow @sheridamn @mishaandthebrits @cabbyhabs @celesteblack08 @minkyungseokie @cassiopeiia24 @flyclaren @inthestars-underthesun @raizelchrysanderoctavius @baw-sixteen @chiliwhore @lokietro @judespoision @elliegrey2803 @lanando4 @glitterf1 @desideriumlove @struggling-with-space @ravisinghs-wife @jsjcue @i-m-in-loki-s-army @nzygftoji (happy 1 year anniversaryyyy)

[fullscoreshenanigans]

#the way this is literally just the King of Paradise arc

Norman: we’re gonna do crime! Emma: yeah! Norman: WAR crime!!! MURDER! Emma: wait what

she’s everything, he’s just Norman

[redbullgirly]

Can you do a Lewis Hamilton smau where she is basically like Barbie? I feel like since Barbie is a fashion icon and so is Lewis, it would be a match made in Heaven. I read your pinned post and tried to make a request based on your rules. Sorry if it isn’t good enough

HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 1, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part2, LH44 smau]

Summary: Lewis Hamilton is part-time Formula One driver and full-time fashion icon. And so is his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who's also known as a real life Barbie.

Warnings: None... but a lot of pink XD. Also this story is set in December 2023, so no broken hearts over Lewis going to Ferrari... actually maybe just a little teaser.

Author's Note: Hi Anon! This request is great and thank you so much for it, it definitely is good enough! :) I had fun writing and creating this, even though at the end it's kind of different than what I firstly intended to do. The original idea was to make Y/N very Barbie coded, but at the end I'd say she's Barbie inspired and I focused more on the fashion icon part of the request. Though there's a sweet storyline about why her nickname is Barbie, so I hope you won't be disappointed! :)

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by naomischiff, pierregasly, mercedesamgf1 and 1,089,234 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton A lot happened in 2023 season and there was also a lot of outfits 🤞🏾✨

view all 7,867 comments

user1 MY GOD THIS MAN IS BEAUTIFUL!

yourusername this was definitely one of my favs 💝

liked by the author

lewishamilton What can I say... pink is the color of real men 🫶🏾

yourusername but do i still wear it the best?

lewishamilton Of course ma'am

user2 I love them sm 😭

user3 can we talk about the fact they're the best couple ever?!

user4 so sweet🥰

user5 And the fact she's literally the only person he interacts with in the comments...

user6 You are the best Lewis, can't wait for another season 👏

user7 🔥❤️

mercedesamgf1 Did someone say Barbie and Ken?💘

user8 YES

user9 admin you're so real for this... they literally ARE our barbie and ken 🤭

user10 The only question is who is the Barbie and who's the Ken? xd

user11 lol imagine barbie lewis💀

user12 GOAT ⬆️♥️

carmenmmundt Me and goergerussell63 when?

gourgerussell I don't really think pink is my colour...😬

yourusername don't worry honey, if he won't wear pink w you i will 😘

carmenmmundt Oh I knew why you're my favourite Y/N 😘

georgerussell63 No wait I changed my mind darling!!

carmenmmundt Hmm now I'll have to think about it 🤔

georgerussell63 Y/NNNNN

yourusername 😌😚

user13 i love how he always manages to get y/n into his posts

user14 The power boyfriend Lewis has over me😩😩

user15 RIGHT?!

user16 he's just so... asdgsagfsgd 😫

user17 I literally need this version of him to live!!!

user18 i'm weak for bf lewis🥵

user19 Y/N looks SO GOOD in that coat

user20 I need to know how she does it

user21 fr

user22 The best driver and a fashion icon... damn he's got some talent 🙇‍♂️

yourusername posted on instagram

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tagged: lewishamilton and mercedesamgf1

yourusername great season and now it'll be even better winter break w my love 💋💞

view all 1,092 comments

f1 Our own Barbie🤩

liked by the author

user1 yeeeees

user2 Wait I'm new in formula one, why do we call Lewis Hamilton's gf Babrie??

user3 idk user2 she just gives off the energy 😆

user4 Actually I think Lewis himself once called her Barbie in an interview when there were rumors about them dating and then it just stuck with her 🤷‍♀️

user5 oh really?!! tbh i had idea he ever called he barbie himself... y/n is just iconic xd

user6 IT'S Y/N'S WORLD AND WE'RE JUST LIVING IN IT 🗣🗣

lewishamilton Can't wait to spend the winter break with you ✨

yourusername *mwah*

user7 pls I'm so excited for them!!

user8 the vacation photo dumps are gonna slay🤭

alexandrasaintmleux stoppp you're so pretty!🎀

yourusername nooo you are alex 🥹🫶

user9 they could never make me hate these two just 'cause they're dating the hottest drivers on the grid🫡

user10 The outfit in the second photo? HELLO?!

kellypiquet 🤍

liked by the author

charles_leclerc I see you like the Monaco circuit very much👀

yourusername i see you're stalking my photo dumps very carefully charles leclerc 🤨

charles_leclerc Well I have a feeling we'll see each other more often soon so I have to get to know you better😉

this comment has been deleted by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc Caught in the crime😂

user11 WHAT WAS THAT CHARLES?!

user12 omg I wasn't the only one to see it? I'm not delusional right?🫣

user13 idk what you saw 'cause i didn't but this interaction is so funny to me XD

user14 mommy- sorry... MOTHER

user15 ❣️❣️

user16 y/n & lew >>>>

twitter

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by f1, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 874,012 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername i'm barbie. he's just a ken (and he won some trophy for p3 in the championship... idk where it is) 💖💄

view all 9,237 comments

user1 I live for Lewis leaving the trophy there💀

user2 and the way y/n basically confirmed this by saying she has no idea where it is😭

lewishamilton You're everything. I'm just Ken 🙏🏾✨

yourusername exactly... though you're the best ken ever 💞

sebastianvettel Isn't he more like Allan then?

yourusername ohhh true seb 🤭

user3 YOU WANNA TELL ME THE SEBASTIAN VETTEL SAW BARBIE

yourusername yeah we made him watch it and he cried during gloria's speech 💓

sebastianvettel I'm not ashamed about it.

yourusername and that's why i love u seb 🫶

user4 why aren't all men like sebastian???😩

user5 I love these three with all my heart y'all don't understand

user6 my fav driver watching my fav movie and crying during speech about feminism is my roman empire

user7 AAAHSDFHFGSDHSG😍

f1 If there was a prize for fashion icons, the Hamilton household would definetly win it! 🏆

liked by the author

user8 not admin calling them hamilton household🥹

user9 Lol that would be the only fairly given trophy this year

user10 OMG I just realized that one day Y/N and Lewis WILL be both HAMILTON😭😭

user11 I'll tattoo the date of their wedding on my arm fr

user12 that's real dedication user11 💀

user13 TRUE DEFINITION OF A QUEEN... LOVE YOUUUUUU

kellypiquet Gorgeous darling!💖💖💖

yourusername we both babeee 💖🫶

user14 the IT wags casually supporting each other

user15 I love they're still friends even though their bfs are probably the biggest rivals xd

user16 not the shade about the trophy💀

user17 Waiiittt what happened?

user18 someone who was at the ceremony said lewis gave him the prize 'cause he didn't want it😭

user17 Oh and Y/N wrote in her caption she doesn't know where it is?

user18 exactly😭

user17 Whoops... I love her, she's queen for that

user19 and the fact fia tried to deny these rumors💀

user20 Absolutely love this look 🤍

user21 you and lew are just such a good looking couple

user22 THE DRESS I REPEAT THE DRESS🥰

lewishamilton posted on instagram

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, scuderiaferrari, valtteribottas and 1,233,490 others

tagged: yourusername and roscoelovescoco

lewishamilton 🇲🇨 with the best company.

view all 15,322 comments

roscoelovescoco Mom's look's so handsome's ☺️☀️

liked by the author and yourusername

lewishamilton Agreed

yourusername awww my boys are too sweet 🥹💕

user1 lewis complimenting his gf not w one but TWO accounts makes my heart melt

liked by yourusername

user2 I want a man like him🤧

user3 WE LOVE ROSCOE CALLING HER MUM

user4 Lewis, Y/N & Roscoe are the best trio ever🥰

user5 parents and their son

user6 literally omg

yourusername wow who's that handsome boy laying on a couch 🥴😻

lewishamilton Handsome you say?😏

yourusername yeah, right next to u 🥰

lewishamilton Oh no, I should've seen that coming😒

roscoelovescoco Thank's mom's I'm handsome's boy's 😊👅

user7 these interactions give me the will to live

user8 I love the Hamilton family🥺

user9 lol y/n calling roscoe handsome xd

user10 The funniest part about this is that Lewis manages Roscoe's profile😭

user11 omg yes user10 not him playing being offended on his main and then being all sweet as roscoe...

user12 Love forever ❤️

user13 Y/N is so beautiful I can't believe my own eyes

user14 the two belong together forever 🙌🫶♾️💫

user15 fr

user16 If they ever break up I'll stop believing on love

mercedesamgf1 Mr. & Mrs. Mercedes

user17 pls give him decent car in 2024 to win another championship🙏

user18 The most iconic couple in history of motorsport 💅

user19 ❤️😍

user20 what's Ferrari doing in the likes?🤨

user21 lol calm down... he's literally lewis hamilton🤣

user22 No but it's weird... they never like other team's things

user23 and after the rumors during monaco gp too 🥸🥸

user24 I think this photo dump caused global warming... like daaammmnnn they're both so fine 🥵

user25 let's just say roscoe isn't the only one calling them mommy and daddy-

user26 lmao

user26 but true🫢

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by lewishamilton, isahernaez, neymarjr, haileybieber and 511,309 others

yourusername barbie has a great day everyday... especially when she gets pink mercedes she wanted 🛍🤍

view all 2,546 comments

lewishamilton Seems like Ken is good for something

liked by the author

yourusername maybeeee

lewishamilton You want pink Ferrari too, don't you?

yourusername ☺️☺️

user1 ohhh to have a man like that

user2 OMG LEWIS PLS GET HER PINK FERRARI

user3 Yeah, Y/N will slay in that car😌

user4 i wanna be barbie too if she gets pink mercedes

user5 but first you'll need to have a ken like lewis hamilton

francisca.cgomes this barbie is so prettyyyy

yourusername love u! 💓

user6 Okay okay I NEED the bikini😫😍

user7 QUEEN

user8 Y/N looking gorgeous like always🫶🏼

user9 gold digger alert!!!!🤮

user10 Girl go away, you clearly know nothing about their relationship xd

user11 jealousy alert!!!

user12 the first pic does something to me 😩

user13 The most beautiful woman ever

user14 Lewis won lottery w her

user15 yes she's literally so pretty and they seem so happy together🥰

user16 fr I don't think I've seen him this happy before

user17 yeah he looks so much calmer and even younger when y/n is with him at event and gps...🥹

user18 Plus the OUTFITS?! I love them sm

user19 Where is Lewis 🙂?

user20 c'mmon he doesn't have to be in every post she makes🙄

user21 stunning as always 💘

user22 SLAYING AS ALWAYS

twitter

Y/N’s interview

photo 1: Y/N: How did you and Lewis meet?

Y/F/N: Oh, you guys'll love the story!

photo 2: Y/N: It was actually in a toy store. Lew was there with his niece and I was there because... [laughs] Let's say I still like to collect dolls and lego, sue me.

photo 3: Y/N: Anyway, Lew's niece saw me, thought I'm a real life Barbie and wanted to say hi. [laughs] It was honestly so sweet that I didn't have the heart to tell her I'm just a normal girl.

photo 4: Y/F/N: So does she still think you're Barbie? [laughs]

Y/N: Yeah, I think so... She calls me Auntie Barbie! [laughs too]

photo 5: Y/N: But back to Lewis - I didn't recognize him and just thought he's really cute. We talked for few minutes, though then I had to leave and didn't have the courage to ask for his number.

photo 6: Y/N: But few days later he followed me on Instagram and I was just like - yes!

Lewis’ interview

Interviewer: Lewis, you recently followed a known influencer and model on Instagram. Is there something going on between the two of you?

Lewis: Are you talking about Barbie? Oh, shoot, sorry... [laughs] I mean Y/N?

yourusername posted on instagram

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tagged: lewishamilton and roscoelovescoco

yourusername aesthetic life w the best man, cute son and lots of flowers 🌸💖

view all 2,340 comments

roscoelovescoco I got's mom's the's flowers's 😊🌷

liked by the author and lewishamilton

yourusername thx roscoe baby!! 🫶 guess daddy will have to learn from you 😌🤍

user1 ... are we gonna talk about the fact y/n just called lewis daddy?

yourusername ... no please don't, you know what i meant 😭🙈

user2 Too late Y/N, the twitter girlies are going to go nuts about this (me included)

landonorris Awww look at that grumpy little dude 🥺

liked by the author

pierregasly Mate are you calling the seven world time champion grumpy little dude?🤣

user3 lando tf-

user4 This is so funny for no reason😭

user5 Lewis being called grumpy little dude wasn't what I expected from this winter break tbh

landonorris ROSCOE

landonorris I WAS TALKING ABOUT ROSCOE GUYS

user6 💀💀

pierregasly Lol

yourusername why did you even think it was about lewis peirregasly ??🧐

landonorris YEAH MR. TRIPOD TELL US

pierregasly Goodbye...👋

user7 u and lew are so sweet

user8 MOTHER IS MOTHERING 😍

alexandrasaintmleux Shining like a star✨💖

yourusername and you're my sun ☀️💖

user9 I want a man who gives me so many flowers!!!

user10 yeah and they're beautiful and tasteful too

lewishamilton So lucky to have you darling! 🫧🫶🏾

liked by the author

yourusername we're both so lucky lew 💗🫶

user11 and i'm lucky i was born in the same century as you so i can witness this love

user12 I LOVE Y/N & LEWIS🥰

user13 I'll ask again... When is he going to put a ring on it? 💍 C'mon Lewis you obviously love her sm

user14 Your guys love is so special ❤️

user15 if this is the content we'll be getting during winter break, i don't think i want it to end

user16 races are great... but boyfriend material lewis hamilton is better🤤

user17 REAL

THE END

Author's Note: Hi and thank you for reading! I'll be glad for likes, reblogs, comments, follows and any other ways of support. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT PART 2! I really enjoyed this version of Lewis and Y/N... and perhaps I have a lot of pictures that unfortunately didn't make it to the story because picture limit isn't very friendly. Love you and have a great day! :)

[klausinamarink]

based on this hilarious video with Gianmarco Soresi whom I’ve been watching his comedy work for a few months now

read on ao3

“What do you do?” The standup of the hour - the guy had introduced himself as Eddie - points at Steve.

Flustered at the attention directing every eye in the club to his table, Steve tries not to stammer as he answers, “Well, uh, I make movies.”

“Oh!” Eddie genuinely looks interested. “So you’re a director?”

“Yeah, pretty much. At least I started out as an indie, but I have a big project that’s out and a couple more on the way.” One table nearby claps and Steve tries to wave them off to stop.

“So what was that big project? Was it something we would’ve seen?” Eddie repositions himself so he has one leg up on the stool. Steve stares at how lean they seem with the tight black jeans. He’s got them daddy long legs. His brain suddenly burps out and it nearly makes Steve lose his composure.

“Uh, ha, I did The Final Bat. It’s on Shudder.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, perfectly hiding his internal cringe. The horror genre is way out of his league and Steve’s already seen The Final Bat being on a few critical lists damning the title as another cliche-filled mess. He only did it because he had finally caved to Dustin’s pleading to make at least one horror movie.

Eddie, on the other hand, seems ecstatic by this revelation. “No way! That’s sick, dude! So the next time you make a horror flick, you’re gonna watch Blumhouse and A24 coming in at each other with steel chairs for distribution rights.”

Everyone laughs, including Robin. She smacks on Steve’s bicep with a wide grin. He smacks her back before he turns back to Eddie and clarifies, “I don’t like horror! I’m not doing it again!”

Aghast, Eddie throws an invisible hat to the ground and stamps on his feet. “Come on! Then what’s the point of watching the studios bite each other’s dicks off when you’re slipping out to watch - I don’t know - the Barbie movie! Now they’re just fighting for the next shitty horror movie to exist!”

Steve covers his mouth but fails to hold back in the laughter. Eddie’s infectious energy is starting to get to him. It makes his chest clench with something other than the usual pains.

Eddie patiently waits for the patrons to quiet down before continuing, still attentive to Steve, “I’m just wondering actually if you ever done theater class.”

“Sure did! Two years in high school,” Steve confirms.

“Let me guess, they did Hamlet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow like it’s meant to be accusatory.

“Yep, soon after I joined.” Steve nods, the memory of that production flashing before his eyes. It had its ups and downs but it was one of the most fun things Steve had ever experienced.

“No wonder they started as soon as your handsome ass walked in the club.” Eddie says low and flirtatiously into the microphone, staring directly into Steve’s eyes. It echoes across the room and back, bringing the howling laughter with it.

Heat crawls behind his face. Steve keeps his hands on the table, forcing down the urge to hide behind them. “I-” He stops to cough, “I wasn’t supposed to play Hamlet.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, “What do you mean?!”

Robin answers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He was the grave robber, but the other guy who did Hamlet got into a coma a week before the show and Steve knew all the lines.”

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie holds his hands out, looking scandalous. He throws looks around the club. “Everyone, shut the fuck up right now! This is more important than caring about the rest of you!” Eddie drags the stool over and perches on it like a very much invested gargoyle, almost oblivious to the audience’s reaction.

“Okay, let me go through this.” He points at Steve, still holding eye contact as if Steve’s soul would provide the answer. “You weren’t Hamlet. You were meant to be the guy who gives him the skull to monologue. The OG Hamlet got into a coma for some reason-“

“Car accident.” Robin interjects.

“Yeah, no need to elaborate, ma’am. You, Steve-” Eddie breaks off for a second, holding back a laugh of his own. “You somehow knew all the Hamlet lines because you were waiting to skin OG Hamlet’s head and make his skull yours to do the monologue.”

There’s a scandalous outcry from all tables. Even when they mostly calm down, Steve uses the growing anticipation to ‘think’ about what Eddie just said before he casually shrugs and says, “Sounds about right.”

Eddie drops his face into his arm, letting everyone laugh at him. Steve lets himself break, his laughter bubbling out of him in a way that doesn’t sound so self-deprecating or hollow. If he was in a cynical mood, he would’ve thought it was pathetic that the only person who made him laugh so lightly again was some random standup.

After a moment, Eddie finally looks up, his face broken in disbelieving grin. He chuckles into the mic and looks back at Steve, “Sorry, it’s just I hear some wild stories in the crowd some nights and I think yours takes the cake.”

Steve smiles, “Thanks, man.”

Eddie stands up back, half-leaning onto the stool. “Do you still remember those lines? To be or not to be?”

The whole damn thing. “Uh… some of it?”

Eddie’s grin shifts into something more mischievous. “Let’s see who knows more.”

A collective oooh goes around the room, including Robin. She already has her phone out for recording. Steve rolls his eyes at her and takes a quick sip of his water. He clears his throat and starts, “‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’”

“‘Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..’” Eddie says without missing a beat.

Oh, he thinks he knows it all. The sense of competition that Steve thought had died out with his future of a sports career reignites in his chest. He sits up even straighter. “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’”

“‘To die-to sleep, no more.’” Eddie slowly walks over to the edge of the stage, “‘And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.’”

“'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.’” Steve almost shivers as he recites the line, uncertain if it’s from the club’s cooling temperatures or the intense gaze from Eddie’s eyes. “‘To die, to sleep.’”

“‘To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub,’” Eddie suggestively rubs a hand on his chest as he squats down. Steve’s eyes flicker to the hand, almost hypnotized by the motion. Nay, he shakes himself out of it. No distractions!

“‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.’” It’s getting harder to remember the following lines. That hasn’t happened before. Steve has never forgotten the damn soliloquy in years, even when other people try to challenge him.

Eddie continues, “‘Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.’”

“‘The pangs-’” Steve feels his breath catching in his throat when he realizes, for the first time, what beautiful eyes Eddie has.

Oh. 

Eddie suddenly perks up in excitement. For a second, Steve thinks that Eddie has come to the exact same thoughts for him. But then he remembers that he hasn’t completed his line, so Steve feigns defeat.

“I win!” Eddie stands up with a triumphant cry. He spreads his arms out to embrace the cheering whoops and applause. “And I’ve only got to play Hamlet in-” He spins around and crouches down so he can look Steve in the eye again as Eddie’s voice booms into the mic, “-FOURTH GRADE, MOTHERFUCKER!” 

Steve’s not even mad. He just throws his head back, laughing and clapping along. 

Almost too soon, Eddie moves on to heckle on another table. But he keeps glancing over at Steve, his smile widening every time. And Steve smiles back, feeling a laugh slip out of his slips at every joke. He watches Eddie more closely, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest the more Eddie stays onstage. 

By the time Eddie has to depart and thank everyone for being here, Robin announces her need to go home and snuggle with her girlfriend. 

“Man, that was the most I’ve ever laughed in this place.” Steve stretches his back, groaning at the little pops. God, being in his early thirties can be a bitch sometimes.

Robin only hums, moving her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Steve pointedly makes no further comment as he pays the tab.

Outside, the crisp night air welcomes him. Steve takes in a whiff, staring up at the light-polluted sky as he bids Robin a goodbye. Then he hears his name being called. He turns around and sees Eddie hurrying out the doors.

Steve feels a smile already on his face, “Hey, Hamlet.” 

Eddie grins at him, teeth and all, “Hey, yourself.” 

They stare at each other but it lacks the competitive intensity earlier. Steve likes this. But he already has a feeling that this won’t be the first time either one of them would challenge the other.

“Sooo…” Steve says when the silence stretches a little too long. He gestures between himself and Eddie, “Wanna restart our introductions?”

Eddie’s eyes brighten, “Yeah! Right, sorry.” He clears his throat and thrusts a hand out. “My name is Eddie Munson. Self-proclaimed comedian and musician. You may recognize me as the guy who beat you in Hamlet’s famous speech.”

Steve takes his hand. Eddie feels bony and thin, but large enough to fit perfectly into Steve’s palm. He tries not to sound so eager as he says, “Steve Harrington. Film director who doesn’t like horror. Believe it or not, I actually know the whole stupid thing.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, “Really? Like, no offense, but even if you remember that much-”

“‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.’” Steve winks with the Harrington Charm, smile and all. 

Eddie stares at him for so long that Steve feels his heart racing for a different reason. And then, Eddie turns around and muffles a loud scream into his free hand. When the man turns back to face him, he’s sporting the widest smile Steve has never seen.

“You knew the whole thing!?” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with utter adoration.

“Yep.” Steve pops the ‘p’, grinning like a little shit.

“But why did you forget that line?”

“Let’s just say,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, “I got distracted by the pangs of love.”

Eddie bites on his lower lip as he swoons his body over so they are pressing against each other. With half-lidded eyes, Eddie whispers, “You know that part is Hamlet referring to missing his dead dad, right?”

Of course Steve couldn’t help but kiss him.