#when his son complained about working on a Saturday

[fountainpenguin]

@nalooksthrough - sdlkfjsdkjls 😂

Everything about Dale gives off "continuing the abuse cycle because he is legitimately REALLY messed up and there's no easy fix for his deep-seeded trauma" vibes and I love that. This man is a hollow shell of his childhood.

Vicky should emotionally destroy him. She's always hyped up as abusive, Timmy's biggest fear, someone who frightens even Crocker, Foop, and Dark Laser, etc. and we should let her go absolute ham on Oddly Specific Side Character Who Returns 20 Years Later to Reign Antagonist In the Narrative, actually.

Absolutely wild character. I want 10 Dales.

EDIT - Sequel doodles??

Short Version: I don't even know how to begin explaining this, so take these 'fic doodles with no context.

Wish Fixers, my chronically unhelpful beloved...

Long Version (City Lights AU #ridspoilers beyond the above implication. Mentions of death and trauma; it gets pretty dark)

Nalooksthrough, I tag you below because I cited your co-dependent toxic friendship comic and said it was cool- If you don't want to click, that's all the tag was :)

So I started outlining my Dale backstory 'fic (Lemonade and Papercuts) since I am the most predictable person alive and of COURSE I can't resist 7 years of trauma and intimacy anxiety <3. But planning a 'fic like this requires many pieces and many questions.

First and most obvious- How did Vicky lure in Dale? From previous planning, I've already decided that since they're the same age (maybe one year off), they probably knew each other in school or activities.

Ex: Squirrely Scouts & Cream Puffs... Not unreasonable- Throughout the series, many kids participate and the organizations seem to have a big following in Dimmsdale. Vicky's sister Tootie is in the Cream Puffs and Vicky is seen bossing them around in the Season 0 episode "Scout's Honor" ("Oh Yeah! Cartoons"). There's a comic by the same name depicting Remy in Squirrely Scouts (after "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary" but before he gets his memories back in "Remy Rides Again" and I always thought it was cute). I mean, look at him:

Pictures courtesy of the FOP Wiki

It's not unreasonable that Dale - who's also rich - might've gotten into that (especially since Doug is big on the cowboy theming and of all the rich parents, he's probably the one most okay with his son playing in dirt). Something scout-related could be an option even if Dale and Vicky went to different schools.

A friendship that gets increasingly toxic until it spirals into full-on abuse sounds really interesting (and @nalooksthrough portrayed this idea beautifully imo in THIS comic I can't stop thinking about).

Sounds fun to write, so let's go with that. What's next?

Hey, remember when 7 years ago, I headcanon'd H.P. as Dale's godfather because of this doodle in Da Rules that specifically refers to Pixie godparents and depicts a fluffy-haired kid in a purple shirt?

I recently found out I still had Dale listed as a godchild of H.P. on his full character profile on my fanfic sideblog. I was waffling over whether to retcon that (since I hadn't yet done anything with it), but I started brainstorming whether I COULD do anything with it.

I've always written Wish Fixers in 'fic [e.g. Origin of the Pixies] as a therapy business run by H.P.'s dad (which H.P. bought off him out of spite despite not being licensed for therapy) but, like...

Does Jorgen know H.P. isn't licensed? I can't see why he would... As far as he knows, H.P. owns and runs the place- especially given my lore that Wish Fixers has been in his family for many generations. Sounds qualified to me!

In "School's Out! The Musical" (episode that Da Rules screenshot is from), we learn Pixies are at the back of the line for godparent work, even under creatures like unicorns (Hence the Musical's plot requiring them to remove magical creatures from earth before they could assign themselves to Flappy Bob).

I said in a recent liveblog post that I'd always imagined this was a punishment given to them due to H.P. absolutely failing as godfather to Dale- Thus, the origin of the doodle on the page for that rule. But... I never decided what happened.

See, Dale SEEMS like a guy who would qualify for a fairy. He was probably pretty miserable under Vicky's 7 years of torture and he's still holding onto that trauma in his adulthood.

DID he have a fairy?

I'm just saying, we know from S4's "Wish Fixers" that H.P. is legally(?) allowed to make contracts that swap a fairy godparent with a pixie one if godkids choose to sign of their own free will... Hmm... I'm connecting dots I don't think I like... (I am lying).

I mean?? Dale clearly did not get out of the pit due to magical interference. If I'm committing to the doodle being Dale and reflecting an actual godfather-godson dynamic between him and H.P., then something sure went wrong there. I can't NOT make Dale suffer...

What on earth could've made Dale sign a contract for something a fairy couldn't give him? We know from "Nectar of the Odds" canon that he wished to see his dad, and thanks to previous liveblogs, I DO already have a headcanon of Dale being extremely desperate for his dad's love... Hmm... I can work with that.

I went down a rabbit hole trying to answer the question of how Vicky secured lemons for 7 years for Dale (and other kids) to work with. Here are some lemon tree facts:

- Lemon trees bear fruit after only a few years - They can bear fruit multiple times a year (depending on variety) - A single lemon tree can produce 1,500 lemons in one growing season - Dimmsdale is in California - a state known for lemon orchards.

That feels likely... An orchard of even a few trees can keep you going for a while.

But lemonade doesn't sell for much compared to other things Vicky could've set a kidnapped child up to do (Ex: In "Microphony," she has kids doing a bunch of other tasks like answering phones for her babysitting service, painting houses, and washing cars).

So... WHY lemonade? What is going on that makes this the thing Vicky has Dale do for 7 years?

And who owns the orchard? I need Vicky to obtain lemons without being stopped for 7 years.

Is it a Dimmadome orchard? Maybe, but several episodes imply Vicky's not familiar with the Dimmadomes - and she probably would have turned Dale in for cash reward if given the chance - so those are two things I need to keep in mind.

Does the orchard belong to her family? That's a possibility- Vicky is shown drinking lemonade after "Nectar of the Odds." She definitely could've bought it - It can't be too expensive unless prices were jacked up after she lost her cheap labor - but it's a drink she's seen with in multiple episodes. She definitely likes it.

And we know from "Timmy's 2D House of Horror" that Vicky's parents are terrified of her. It's not likely they'd stop her from taking lemons from the family orchard.

One problem... If Dale goes missing when he's about 9 (Closer to 7 or 8 in my planned timeline), Vicky is also 9 or younger. Are her parents scared of her when she's that small and inexperienced in the ways of the world?

In "The Switch Glitch," she's 5 and seems mild and sweet until 10-year-old Timmy mistreats her- She clearly didn't have memories of Timmy, implying she totally regressed to how she acted when she really was 5. Worth pointing out she goes off the deep end and chains up Cosmo and Wanda, so... she IS mean even at age 5. But also, she's 5. She wears the same purple hair bow in "Switch Glitch" (at 5) that she does when Timmy drains the meanness out of her in "Vicky Loses Her Icky," which is interesting.

So that begs the question... Can I turn my Dale backstory 'fic into a double story of Dale abuse AND Vicky going from a pretty innocent child to Totally Messed Up? Keeping in mind that according to Vicky in A New Wish, Vicky IS the one responsible for abusing him and he "spent 7 years' worth of Saturdays in a factory underneath a lemonade stand."

If that's the way I want to play it... Something happened to send Dale and Vicky down the dual victim-and-abuser path, destinies intertwined. And for some reason, Vicky stuck with the lemonade theme.

Dale just says he spent his Saturdays "in a factory underneath a lemonade stand." It's not out of the question he and Vicky made more lemon products than just lemonade, especially given Vicky's love for money (and those 600 lbs of lemons one tree can produce in a year). We can assume they changed locations a few times or someone would've found the trapdoor on Timmy's lawn. Plus when Dale started his abuse, Vicky hadn't started babysitting Timmy, whom she only met when he was 8.

So, I've set Dale up to be lured in by Vicky because they were friends. I like the idea of things gradually getting worse as Vicky slowly morphs from a friend into a very cruel person. If Vicky was bullying him, what stopped him from just... leaving?

Vicky's transformation was probably subtle if he stayed for so long..... I also pointed out in a recent post that Doug's underground milk empire where he uses hypnotized people for labor bears a striking amount of similarities with Vicky's lemonade stand, even down to the general vibes of "trapdoor entrance" (although it's implied there's another entrance in small building).

And if we want to be technical about things... We don't know if Doug and Dale pressed charges against Vicky. She clearly continues to babysit Timmy and other kids after "Nectar of the Odds" (Season 2).

In Season 4 ("Channel Chasers"), Doug remarks that Timmy's parents should've guessed Vicky was evil because of the Chip Skylark song "Icky Vicky," but he doesn't mention Vicky kidnapping his son. That's.... sus. He even offers to buy a car from her in Season 3's "Engine Blocked" (after Dale's escape).

Why would such a powerful guy let all of that slide? Did they just not have enough proof? Did Vicky wipe the place clean? Did Dale "not want to make a big deal about it" because he was so exhausted and grateful, he just didn't want to think about it or struggle with the legal system? Was he covering for her?? Was he scared to speak up?

... Did Dale not tell his dad the whole truth about where he was?

What if Dale was - in some vague and early concept way - in on the lemonade scheme from the beginning, back when he and Vicky were friends and she wasn't so cruel? Maybe she turned on him and sentenced him to the pit before long?

Why the underground-ness of it? Why the lemonade, which probably doesn't turn much profit... as lemonade. Unless you have unrestrained access to tons of lemons that you can turn into multiple products - Dale DID call it a factory - and no one is stopping you from accessing them...

... but how do you set up a situation where kids have access to a whole lemon orchard - presumably carefully maintained - and the adults don't take it away from them (Because... surely they would've found Dale and multiple other kids if they strayed close).

And Dale didn't leave. He does in "Nectar of the Odds" - apparently of his own volition - but not before. Was he kept there mentally as well as physically?

We KNOW Vicky can't be monitoring him 24/7 because "Nectar of the Odds" is the only episode depicting her paying attention to him, while others show her doing many other things in many other places (though it's worth noting Dale says in that episode that "Vicky's kept him locked up for so long").

Did he stay so long because it was the perceived better fate up until he miraculously crossed paths with his dad (via fairy magic) and took the risk? Would he have gone back in?

Maybe it wasn't supposed to get this out of hand. Dale and Vicky were young when this started... Somewhere between 7 and 9 (given that Dale was kept there for 7 years and Vicky is 16 when he escaped and he tells 9-year-old Dev this happened when he was Dev's age).

Maybe there was an accident. Something not just Vicky, but even Dale felt the need to cover up, especially in regards to the orchard and the fact that it needs to be Vicky's consistent source of lemons (and not something she lost out on before Dale's escape... an illusion of ownership maintained. Kids can't own the orchard, but what if they fooled people into believing it wasn't owned by kids?)

Hmm... some kind of accident that got two mostly innocent kids into huge trouble, thus setting up a horribly intertwined fate where if one of these toxic co-dependent friends backs out and squeals, even the squealer might suffer worse compared to trucking along on the cruel existing path.

tl;dr - if Vicky and Dale accidentally killed the orchard owner but they were kids and terrified to tell an adult lest they go to jail for life so they hid the body in the basement (or like ?? threw it to the coyotes or hyenas that inexplicably lurk on the fringes of Dimmsdale??) and are trying desperately to wipe their hands of this by pretending the lemon orchard is still operational so no one investigates until they can figure out a plan, and then Vicky hardens herself as a trauma response and manipulates Dale into believing it was solely his fault and she'll pin him with murder charges if he gets cold feet and turns her in, and he's miserable and gets a fairy (then loses his fairy via Pixie contract through Wish Fixers, presumably in an attempt to negotiate a way to protect himself from Vicky and somehow not gaining the ire of his father) and then H.P. (lawyer and unlicensed yet de facto therapist pulled two ways) is suddenly Dale's godfather and trying to comprehend what the flip is going on between misery and manslaughter while he's also juggling Gary, Betty, and Flappy Bob at the same time in preparation for the Musical because we know he spent 37 years on that plan...

... Would that be one messed-up yet hyperspecifically canon-compliant 'fic or what?

These thoughts have been haunting me all weekend and I HAD to get my "I'm not that kind of lawyer or therapist" joke out of my system, so there's your context. #Sorry. Is this the direction the actual 'fic will go? ... It's not the direction I really had in mind, but ?? It's off the wall and therefore I must shake it in my teeth. I can't not write Dale backstory this horrific. what. hey.

[lovemly4]

Hi there! Not sure if you're open for request but if you dont, feel free to ignore 😅 my request will be lando x reader, whereby he's dating a very shy reader so its normal for her to want to keep their relationship very private. However, one day, reader told lando that she's ready to watch him race and support him irl and it makes him so so happy and both of them were smiley and giggly while walking on the paddock. Hope that's okay!

I’m here with you - Lando Norris

word count: 841 ; genre: fluff ; pairing: Lando Norris x reader ; warnings: none, just teeth rotting fluff ☆

Note: Hii, of course requests are open!! And this is so cute omfg, i feel like Lando would be super respectful of you boundaries, but his eyes would light up when you tell him that you’re ready to support him in person to his races.

Wednesday, Nov 29th, 2023

My heart jumped at the sound of the front door opening. It had been three days since the Abu Dhabi GP, and during our time apart we tried to contact each other every time we could.

“My darling, i missed you so much” he exclaimed against my shoulder as I hugged him, inhaling his familiar perfume. I felt a little bad at his words, a little thunder striking through my heart.

Despite being in a relationship with him for four months already, I’ve never felt ready enough to make it public; but what was I so afraid of? I didn’t really know, actually.

I feared that people would come at me, telling me that I wasn’t enough, that he deserved someone better, maybe? Yes, most definitely.

Something held me back, despite my wish to make him the happiest man in the world.

“I missed you too Lan, I’m sorry i wasn’t able to be there with you” I apologized, my hand making its way to his cheek.

He smiled comprehensively.

“You don’t need to apologize love, I know. I would never force you into something you don’t feel comfortable doing” He said in a tone a little louder than just a whisper.

I placed a little peck on his lips, and reached out to help him with his luggages.

Friday, Feb 23rd, 2024

I looked at the tallest shelf in our shared walk-in closet, carefully choosing Lando’s shirts.

My face assumed a concentrated look, as the man walked in behind me placing his hand on my waist.

“Sweetheart, we don’t need to put so much effort in choosing my clothes, you know? I’ll probably be wearing my suit most of the time, anyway” he chuckled, stroking my side.

“I know Lan, but it’s the first race of the season! You must look good!” I talked back, reaching for the Quadrant shirt.

I followed him out of the closet, laying his shirt flat beside his joggers.

I studied him silently as he was organizing the space in his bag.

“…Lando, will you be alone in Bahrain?” i asked hesitantly, nervously playing with the hem of my sleeve.

“Oh no, my team will be there, of course. Zack will arrive two days later than me, he mentioned a problem with his son or something. I’ll meet Oscar outside the airport there.”

I stayed hushed, quietly working out my thoughts as he locked the luggage.

“What if… What if i come with you? To Bahrain. To the race.” i tried to ask, timidly hiding my hands in my pockets.

He turned to me all of a sudden, eyes wide open like a deer caught in headlights.

“Did i heard that right? You’re not joking, are you? Are you serious?” he spoke quickly, almost as if he was trying to convince himself of what he had just heard.

I laughed at his reaction as he took my hands in his.

“Are you really sure y/n? I don’t want you to regret this. I won’t complain if you change your mind.” he sat me on the edge of our shared bed, reassuring me with kind words.

“I’ve never been so sure, Lan. I think it’s about time, i want to cheer you in person and show you all my support” i warmly smiled, and he started bouncing like a little boy. He bursted out of the room before i could process something to say.

“Where are you going?” i shouted, keeping an ear out to detect his distant voice.

“To take your bags!”

Saturday, Mar 2nd, 2024, present day.

A light breeze sways my dress, as I hold Lando’s hand through the paddock.

He never stopped chuckling like a baby since we’ve landed, and now he’s introducing me to every soul on the track.

He walks me to the garage, running to his car and patting the big “4” in the front.

“This is her. Isn’t she beautiful? Hopefully she’ll be a good girl on the track.” I laugh at his seriousness and he copies me, placing his arm around my waist.

“Look, this is where you’re going to sit during the race. You can hear me through the headset. Those are all the monitors through which you can see me. If you need something, let the guys know ok?”

I squeeze his hand reassuringly, and his mind seems to stop wandering for a moment. He has always been so good at hiding his thoughts and feelings, but the quick rise and fall of his chest betrays his calmness.

“Lan, breathe. I’m fine, you’re fine. We’re fine. And most importantly, we’re here together.”

One of the engineers calls for Lando and Oscar, but the light in his eyes is peaceful now.

“I love you. Thank you for being here with me”

I kiss him deeply, and watch him run away with his teammate.

The red lights go out.

The race finally begins, and he couldn’t be happier. He feels safe, and he’s so grateful to have by his side someone so brave and caring.

No matter how it goes, the only thing he cares to win is your heart.

[holllandtrash]

last call | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader

a one shot based on the song last call by jamie miller, i highly suggest listening to it 'Cause when it's last call I wanna be your first call I wanna be your ride home You're gonna be my downfall

word count: 7.4k tags/warnings: soft and sweet, alcohol consumption

Max Verstappen was a lot of things.

He was a world champion, for starters. A two-time world champion, a title he carried proudly. He was on his way to claim that title for the third time, but he didn’t let the arrogance or the ease of it get to his head, there was still work to do this season.

He was a son and a brother. He cared about his family more than the media would ever know, always painting him as some sort of villain on and off the track to which it got to the point that Max simply stopped trying to change people’s opinions. His family knew who he was, he didn’t need to make any adjustments for them.

He was a friend, and a damn good one if he said so himself. To be fair, it was difficult to see the mates he grew up with when his job took him around the world and back, but he never forgot his roots. He cherished any time he got to spend with those in his close circle. He had a rule too, no phones. If he was with his friends, nothing on his phone mattered. That was also why he was deemed ‘antisocial’ during any breaks, however long. God forbid he not take any photos of him having a good time to prove he knows how to have a good time.

Last but most certainly not least, on Friday and Saturday nights in Monaco, he was a chauffeur. 

Your chauffeur.

Neither of you were quite sure when this whole arrangement started, but did that really even matter?

Max pulled up alongside the curb of the club and sent you a text. A minute later you came walking out the doors, a grin plastered on your face as you said your goodbyes to your friends. 

As you walked around the front of the car, Max tried to not let his gaze linger on the way your skirt showcased the length of your legs and how in a matter of a seconds you’d be sitting next to him and he’d be thanking his lucky stars he drove a manual so he had a reason to keep his hand off of you.

You climbed into the passenger side of his car, the seat was already adjusted to your height. There was an unopened bottle of water in the cup holder. An artist you listened to was already quietly playing through the speakers. Even if Max didn’t get a heads up that you were going out tonight, he knew what to do when you called him.

He knew that if the seat was pushed back you would complain, jokingly. He knew that you’d ask if he had water somewhere in his car and he knew that you’d ask for help to connect your phone to Bluetooth, if it hadn’t already died. 

And while Max liked that routine, he also liked seeing your face light up when you realised you no longer needed to ask for anything. 

“Hi,” you turned in your chair to face him. You were smiling, but you had been smiling all night. Did you mean any of them in the last few hours? The answer was unknown, but you certainly meant it now. You took one look at Max and you couldn’t help but smile, it was your body’s natural reaction, just like how you turned to face him as soon as you sat down. 

“Fun night?” He asked. He always asked that, but you both knew he didn’t care about what you got up to inside the walls of the nightclub. If he cared, he would have joined you the number of times you politely asked him to when you saw him in passing when you left the flat. But Max just wasn’t a nightclub kind of person. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Yeah, Rina’s a bit of a handful, but it was fun.”

“You stayed out late,” Max pointed out, but not in a type of way you would expect a parent to discipline their kid. It was simply Max calling attention to the time, the same time as always. 

This was a habit you had fallen into, unintentionally. 

Wherever you were, whatever establishment, when their bartenders yelled for last call, you pulled out your phone and called Max. The call for the last round of drinks was your reminder that you needed to go home and luckily, there was someone who would pick you up, every time, without fail. 

It was convenient that you two lived in the same building. It may have been in passing that Max offered for you to ever call him if you needed something, but neither of you expected it to spiral into this. 

He was just being friendly. It was the neighbourly thing to do. 

Which is why you were hesitant the first time you called Max when you needed a ride home. But all of your friends had left you, you lost your credit card somewhere on the dance floor and in your state of mind, you were in no position to try and walk the streets of Monte Carlo alone. 

So you called him, apologising about a dozen times but through the line you heard him get up from bed with a quiet sigh. You heard the jingle of keys and it wasn’t long before you finally heard Max’s car roar to life and he told you he’d be there in ten minutes.

That pattern of sounds became music to your ears before you knew it. The faint grunt as he stood up, the keys twirling around his finger, his car turning on. 

Breath, keys, car. It was clockwork. It was something you pretty much expected at this point when you called him. 

And Max, well Max knew it was pointless to even lay down, but he did on the off chance you didn’t go out. You always went out. 

Max had a good heart. He wanted his friends to be safe and somehow, you had wormed your way into that layer of his life. You were one of his friends. And he would rather you call him every Friday night than have to wake up in the morning and not know if you got home at all.

It was convenient that he was home for the break. He was in Monaco. He could be there for you when you needed him, and he would be.

But that pegged the question, what did you do when he was away? When he was racing? When he was across the globe fighting for championship points, who did you call to pick you up at the end of the night?

Max never asked. In fact, the topic of his job never came up with you. You knew he was a Formula 1 driver, he mentioned it subtly, well he thought it was subtle, it really wasn't. And when you said “Oh yeah, my dad watches that. He likes Josef Newgarden,” Max bit his tongue so as to not tell you that your dad was referring to an IndyCar driver, a completely different series.

You knew very little about the sport. Even with Monaco being the pinnacle track of Formula 1, you never bothered to learn about it or keep up with it. Maybe that’s why Max found it so easy to talk to you in the first place. You never once saw him as a driver. You just saw him as your neighbour and on some nights, your chauffeur. 

So one could imagine his surprise when you brought up his career during that drive home.

“When do you go back?” You asked, slight hesitancy in your tone as this was not a topic you knew well, your vocabulary was limited. “To racing?”

“Two weeks,” Max answered. “It’ll be my home race.”

He pulled up to a red light and glanced at you, instantly recognising that the term home race was not one you were familiar with, but you nodded as though you did. 

“It’s in the Netherlands,” he further clarified. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you were reminded that he was Dutch. 

“That’ll be fun,” you added. 

Why was this awkward? Neither of you were usually ones for small talk. Usually you would get in the car and talk about the characters you saw that you knew he’d get a laugh at. You would be chatting his ear off, that was part of the routine. 

And tonight, you were struggling to fill the silence. Max couldn’t tell why. 

You knew why, however. 

It was because when you were out tonight, your friend Rina was whisked away by someone who asked to dance with her. She blushed, her cheeks and neck turning bright red before saying yes and taking his hand to lead her towards the dance floor.

You watched with amusement, happy for your friend, but there was that sinking feeling of jealousy settling in the pit of your stomach. Granted, the man she was dancing with was not your type. He was tall, too tall, with dark features, an arm of tattoos. Sure he seemed charming and he certainly knew how to dance, but you weren’t jealous he had chosen Rina instead of you.

You were jealous that your friend had someone to dance with. 

And you had been asked a few times by strangers to join them under the lights, but you turned down all of them. They weren’t people you wanted to spend your time with. They didn’t give you butterflies when you thought about the potential of starting something new with a stranger from the club.

No, you got those butterflies when you climbed into the passenger seat of Max’s car. They were faint, they came as fast as they went. They could have been mistaken for nausea if you weren’t certain you only had two drinks tonight.

But they were there.

Which led to your next thought, if Max ever asked you to dance, you’d say yes in a heartbeat. 

And you had been attracted to Max since the first day you saw him, basically, but you kept those feelings to yourself, even as they grew from a physical attraction to more.

Recently, however, they had been getting harder and harder to ignore.

So maybe that’s why you were struggling to move past this silence right now. You were suddenly looking at Max in a very different light. He was your friend, yes, but he had proven time and time again that he would show up for you, that he wouldn’t hesitate to pick you up no matter that hour. None of your other friends made that commitment to you. 

But you would never act on any of it. The thoughts, the feelings. Max had never once hinted that he was interested, he was just nice. He was wholesome, despite what you had heard in the media. He was just looking out for you.

So when he walked you to the door of your flat that evening, you said goodnight like you usually did and you headed inside.

You had no idea that Max lingered in the hallway for a minute, debating with himself whether or not he should knock on your door. He’d done it before, making up some excuse to talk to you for just another few minutes. 

Because the truth was, Max enjoyed the time he spent with you, even if it was limited to those car rides from the club to your apartment complex. He liked not knowing which version of you would climb into the passenger seat. While you were almost always talkative, there were times when all you wanted was a coffee at an ungodly hour. There were times when you were complaining about the people you met. There were times when you couldn’t stop laughing to the point that Max had to pull over because your laughter was angelic and contagious and he wasn’t about to risk getting into an accident because the two of you couldn’t contain yourselves.

Max liked the fact that you always called him at the end of the night. 

For some weird reason, he liked that you were thinking of him. It made him so unbelievably happy to know that when the bartender yelled for ‘last call’ at the end of the night, he was your first call. 

But those phone calls were only ever restricted to Friday and Saturday nights. And only when he was in Monaco. While you didn’t understand Formula 1, you must have followed it a bit to know when he wasn’t home. You never called him during a race weekend. 

Except that one night last year when he was in Austin. It was just after 2am in Monaco, but Max was sitting down and having dinner in his hotel room. For you, it was early Sunday morning. For him it was still Saturday.

And it was because you didn’t recognise the pattern, you didn’t hear the breath, the keys, the car, you instantly knew that this was a weekend where he was away. He was working, racing, whatever he wanted to call it.

“Oh fuck,” you blurted out before Max could say anything. Your exclamation was met with a hefty laugh. He wasn’t annoyed in any means that you had called him while he was away, just a bit surprised is all. 

“I can order you an uber,” He instantly offered. You heard the sound of him shifting on the bed and his voice then echoed as it bounced off the walls of his hotel room, like he turned on the speakerphone, like he was already looking for the app to order you an uber from halfway across the world. 

“I can do that myself,” you argued. 

The line was silent for a moment. You were both thinking the same thing. Why didn’t you just always call an uber? Why did you always rely on Max to drive you home? 

Neither of you voiced that question. You had your own answers, but if they didn’t match up then that would lead to an entirely different conversation, one that you could do without, one that had the risk of ruining whatever sort of pattern you had fallen into.

“You okay? Did you have a fun night?” Max moved on, not wanting to think about how you were probably ordering that car for yourself. If he was in Monaco right now, he’d already be in the elevator down to the parking garage. 

“Yeah, it was good,” your words slurred together. Not enough to alarm Max, but he knew you. He knew that the more you drank, the more honest you were. 

You proved that point about two seconds later.

“Honestly, Jordan’s just fucking annoying,” you sighed. Max could picture you running your hands through your hair, you did that often, but especially when something was eating at you and right now, it was your friend Rina’s boyfriend. Boyfriend? Boy toy? Ex? Max tried to keep up, but there was a new label every week. It’d be easier to stay up to date with your life and the ‘drama’ that circled it if you saw him more than once or twice a weekend, but he wasn’t about to put that thought in your head and potentially scare you off. What you had was fine. The late night calls, the last calls turned first calls was fine.

“What happened now?” Max asked. 

“Well we literally told him not to come out, Rina’s still pissed after what he did last week- oh shit, hang on.”

While you searched for what Max could only assume was a credit card or your lip gloss or something that should have fallen out of your pockets by now, he thought back to what Jordan did last week. 

You sighed heavily into the receiver, “...what was I saying?”

“Rina’s still mad,” Max reminded you. “She hasn’t forgiven him for getting drunk at her parents anniversary dinner?”

You laughed, “God you have a better memory than me. I had to ask Rina why we were giving him the cold shoulder tonight.”

Point for Max. 

Why did this little victory mean so much to him?

“Anyway, he tried to make it up to her tonight by buying all of her drinks but then his card declined like an hour in, who lives in fucking Monte Carlo and can’t afford drinks? He’s a fake, is what he is and Rina deserves so much better. I have a theory he’s-”

“That he's from Nice,” Max finished with his own chuckle. “Want me to hire a P.I. to look into it?”

There was a pause and then a very serious, “Can you actually do that?”

“I could but I was joking,” Max said. He could picture your pouty bottom lip. It was a good thing you weren’t actually with him. He probably would have given in and found a private investigator within an hour. 

“Oh I think my uber- yeah that’s it,” you said, more to yourself than to him as your voice trailed off at the end. “I’m sorry for calling. I knew you were in Austin, I just- I forgot. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Max told you. “You don’t ever need to apologise for calling me. You know that if I was home I’d come pick you up, right?”

A faint inhale, one that held so many feelings that your words could never express, “I know.”

“Get home safe, okay?”

“I will,” you assured him. “And good luck today. Or- tomorrow, I guess. I know you’ll kill it.”

This was how Max knew you weren’t keeping up with Formula 1. He had officially claimed his second world championship title last weekend in Japan. He could quite literally sit out of the remaining races and still hold enough points to safely stand at the top of the driver standings. 

But he wasn’t going to tell you that because he knew you’d instantly feel bad for not knowing, for not congratulating him. In your head, the championship fight went until the end of the season and typically it would, but this year was different for Max. 

Max just said thank you and you both hung up. You climbed into the backseat of an uber where there was no water waiting for you and you didn’t dare ask for the driver to play Harry Styles. Max laid back on his bed, pushing his tray of room service aside as he stared up at the hotel ceiling. 

When he returned that following Monday, Max was surprised to see dark blue streamers hanging on the outside of his door. There was a card shoved halfway underneath the door and he opened it up, looking at the delicate handwriting that read ‘heard you’re a world champion or whatever, let me know if you want to celebrate, I don’t mind picking you up for a change’. 

Max laughed as he read the card. It was very you. You didn’t give two shits about the driver championship and Max loved that. He loved that you found reasons to be his friend outside from the fact that he was a Formula 1 driver. You didn’t care that his name came with power, wealth, fame, but you still showed your support with the little you knew about racing. You were a good friend to him.

And that’s what it was. Friendship. Why else would you have written, ‘I don't mind picking you up for a change’? You weren’t offering to celebrate with him, you were offering to be the designated driver after he went out with his group of friends, the friends that did care about his career. 

Max would have gone out and celebrated with you. He would have said yes in a heartbeat, if you asked.

But you didn't. The closest that you came to going out with him was when you politely invited him to join you on your evenings out with your close circle, but Max was an afterthought. You never knocked on his door and invited him out, it was only if you passed him in the hallway or if the elevator doors opened and he was standing on the other side.

And Max said the same thing every time. ‘Nah, you have fun. Let me know if you need a ride home.’ 

Max thought you were just being friendly, neighbourly, but the truth was, you were waiting for the day where he said ‘Yeah, why not?’. 

You never went out of your way to ask him out because of the rejection you had received in passing. How embarrassing would it be if you knocked on his door only to be met with the same rejection? To see the look of pity on his face as the door slowly shut. 

There was a lot of uncertainty when it came to how you saw him or how he saw you and the only thing that was certain, was that you were friends. 

So that’s why Max didn’t knock on your door now and make up some excuse about how you left his lip gloss in his car. He returned to his room and found himself staring up at the ceiling of his flat at 2:30 in the morning, something he had gotten quite used to, until sleep took over as he was thinking about how maybe next time, maybe next Friday, he’ll make a proper move.

But a wrench was thrown into his plans when your name lit up his phone screen a few days later. It wasn’t weird that you were calling him, what he couldn’t understand was why. It was a little after three on a Wednesday. Your conversations, the phone calls, the late night drives, they were confined to weekends.

Max answered though, maybe you left work early and accidentally drank too many sangrias on a patio. He’d pick you up, of course, this was just very unlike your pattern.

He expected to hear the slurring of words. He could understand drunk you enough to piece together what you were saying.

But the sharp inhale through your words, this was new. It was clear you were actively trying to not cry into the phone, trying to hold yourself together but Max heard it as your meek ‘hi’ came through the receiver.

And god did it break him. 

“Where are you?” Max asked, already sliding his shoes on practically sprinting towards the elevator. Of course it was stuck on the main floor. No matter how many times he pressed the button, that steel boxed moved too damn slowly for his own good.

“Horizon,” you sniffed. Max recognized that restaurant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t know who to call. Can you-”

“I’m already on the way.”

It wasn’t far. Max pulled up outside the restaurant in under ten minutes. You were sitting on a bench, dark shades covering your eyes but Max caught the way you raised your hand to wipe your cheeks before climbing into the car. 

He didn’t even think to grab tissues before leaving his flat, but he had a feeling you would just deny them anyway. If he knew anything about you, he knew you weren’t one to cry. You had a very hard exterior, you felt things deeply, but you didn’t cry. Not in front of other people.

“Can we just- I don’t know, can we just drive for a bit?” you kept your gaze on the road in front of you. This wasn’t like you and Max would do anything to see the light in your eyes, to see your bright smile that made getting out of bed at 2 in morning worth it every time.

Max nodded, getting the idea that you didn’t want to talk. Or if you did, it would be on your own accord. You crossed one leg over the other and Max glanced at the beige romper you wore. He didn’t point out the dark red stain on your hem, but you rubbing at it was certainly not going to get it out. He could only assume it was wine? Did you spill wine on yourself at lunch? Who were you even out for lunch with?

And then he noticed you playing with the ring on your middle finger, again this wasn’t like you. You didn’t fidget and if you did, you’d play with the strands of your hair. 

Max had seen you drunk, he’d seen you a few drinks in, he’d seen you sober. 

He’d never seen you so upset over something before, though. The silence in the car was heavy. Whatever was on your mind, he wished there was a way for him to take some of the weight off of you. 

He wasn’t travelling in any particular direction, just aimlessly around Monaco, but after the seconds turned to minutes, Max saw you visibly relax against the seat of his car.

“Do you know what I do?” You asked him, pulling your sunglasses off. 

You both turned your faces towards each other. Faint mascara smudges stained the corner of your eyes. Your cheeks were still rosy, your jaw was clenched in anticipation of the rest of the conversation. This wasn’t the you that Max was used to, but it was a version of you he wanted to get to know. He wanted to know every side of you, even the sides you tried to hide behind sunglasses and spilled wine and choked back tears.

“Job wise?” Max asked for clarification. “Yeah, you’re ah- an environmental consultant? Right?”

You were a little impressed that he knew, but to be fair, you’ve had hundreds of conversations with Max and you weren’t sober for all of them. The discussion of jobs probably slipped your mind.

“I like my job,” you stated.

“Good. That’s important.”

“So why do I feel stuck?”

Max licked his lower lip, “Elaborate.”

“I’ve been doing the same thing since I graduated,” you told him, looking out the window again. Slowly, the Monte Carlo skyline was disappearing into the side mirrors. “And I like it, I do. I like the company I work for. I like the people I work with, but why does it feel like that’s the only thing I have going for me in life right now?”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Max sighed, but if he was being honest, he had no idea. What he knew about you was minimal and it killed him.

You nodded, but it was just out of politeness so as to not argue that he was wrong. 

A few more minutes passed before you inhaled the heaviest breath your lungs could take.

“My sister’s engaged. Rina’s moving to Milan at the end of the summer. My brother travels for a living and I just- I’m not doing anything.”

So that’s what this was about. Max was smart, he could put the pieces together. You talked about your siblings a bit, but you never mentioned your sister getting married before. The way you were looking down at your hand throughout this drive told Max that this late lunch was you meeting your sister so she could announce the good news.

And something as big as that would undoubtedly send someone spiralling, making them question their own life choices, the path they were on. As long as Max has known you, you’ve had the same job, same friends, no partner. 

Your best friend moving was not new either, you had excitedly told Max about her job offer a few weeks back, but maybe it was just sinking in now. Everyone around you was moving onto bigger and better things and you were, as you put it, stuck. 

“I think I need a change of scenery,” you admitted quietly. 

Which was not what Max wanted to hear.

Selfishly, he didn’t want you to leave Monaco. Even though he was the one who was gone so many weeks out of the year for the races, he liked knowing you would always be there when he returned home. That you were just down the hall. 

Before Max could try and talk you out of moving, you reached across the centre console and put your hand over his, the one that rested on the gear stick. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, Max knew you to be a little handsy when you were drinking, but you seemed to be sober this time. 

“I’m sorry for calling you,” you said, even though you really didn’t need to apologise. “I didn’t know who else to call and I just, I needed to breathe.”

Max found comfort in that. 

That he was someone you could clear your head with, that you didn’t need to put on an act around him. In a way, you trusted him. You must have if he was your first call after your sister dropped a bombshell.

When the two of you found your way back to the apartment complex, Max walked you to the door like he always did. Your flushed cheeks had returned to its normal colour. Your eyes no longer looked glossed over. And the smile you gave him seemed genuine.

You unlocked the door and pushed it open and something in Max screamed now or never and before he knew it, he was reaching for your hand to keep you from going inside. He pulled you back to face him and the expression you wore was unreadable. 

Max froze. 

Something that he never did.

He was always calm and collected, always ahead of his thoughts, always knew what to do and when to do it. 

But that was thanks to his training and his training only prepared him for driving at ridiculous speeds and navigating dozens of race tracks and thinking on his feet in tough situations while he sat behind the wheel of an F1 car.

His training didn’t prepare him for how stunned he would feel as he met your eyes, grabbing your attention for the first time outside the safety net of his regular car.

Whatever Max wanted to say, it had now vanished and he had no choice but to rely on the words that he had told you many times before.

“You know you don’t need to apologise for calling me, right?” Max said, his hand falling from yours. 

“I know,” a faint breath of laughter followed your assurance. 

“And for the record-” Max paused. “I don’t think you’re stuck. I think you’re right where you need to be.”

Max’s words stayed with you for the next few days. In fact, they were all you could think about, even when you met Rina Saturday night at your usual spot. She had ordered you a drink, she was a few in herself already and you had barely taken a sip when she brought up the idea of you moving to Milan with her.

You almost spit out the cocktail, “I- what? Move with you? Rina, my job’s here.”

“Yeah but you’re so experienced, I’m sure you could find another one in Milan,” Rina stuck out her lower lip. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do without my best friend.”

While you might have contemplated moving a few days ago, you weren’t sure you were really ready to leave Monaco. This was your home, you loved it here. Despite what you said to Max about feeling stuck, his words were burned into your mind.

You weren’t stuck. You had no reason to leave. You wanted to be here. 

You just had a momentary lapse of judgement. 

“I’m not moving, Rina,” you sighed, connecting your hand with hers. “But I’ll visit and you can too. I’m still your best friend, even if we’re in different countries.”

She knew better than to plead her case any more, deciding that spending the night drinking and dancing was more fun than thinking about her upcoming move. 

And before you knew it, the DJ made an announcement for the last call at the bar and you were pulling out your phone to call Max.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Rina said, or rather, yelled, as the music was still blaring. She saw his contact on your screen, she saw the way the corner of your lips were pulled upwards when you thought about being with him shortly. 

“Because I don’t feel anything,” you shouted back. It was a lie. A bold faced lie that your friend saw right through but didn’t push you any more on it. 

She walked with you to the curb. Max rolled down the window and waved to her, offering her a ride as well. But Rina denied it, she knew this was your time to be with Max. 

“Get home safe, I love you,” you called out, hand gripping the handle of the passenger side door. Rina blew you a kiss and then you climbed in. 

Max reached into the backseat and grabbed the bottle of water he had tossed there when he left his apartment. He waited until taking a sip before asking if you had a fun night.

“Yeah, Rina asked me to move to Milan with her,” you answered, wiping the corner of your mouth. You looked at Max expectantly, trying to gauge what his answer would be. Surely the man who told you that you were in the right place wasn’t going to encourage you to move.

Max just hummed and put the car into drive. He waited until you were a few minutes away from the club to say anything, as if seeing Rina standing on the sidewalk in the rearview mirror was somehow going to make this conversation harder.

“What did you-” Max stopped himself and chose something else to say, “You’re not moving, though. Right?”

And then you saw it. The way his eyebrows furrowed in concern. The way his hand clenched over the gear lever. The way his jaw tightened as he fought with himself before asking if you were in fact leaving.

Max didn’t want you to go. 

That thought alone made your stomach turn in knots, but not the kind you felt when you were sick. You were most definitely not sick, you could have been floating on cloud 9 when you realised Max wanted you to stay in Monaco.

“Are you kidding?” You retorted, feeling a burst of confidence. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you had been drunk before and never once tried flirting. No time like the present. “Think of how inconvenient it would be for you to drive to Milan every time I go clubbing.”

Max chuckled, his features softening as the lines around his lips made an appearance. God you loved his smile. 

“Oh so you’re staying for my sake? Well that’s- that’s really kind of you. Thank you.”

He stopped at a red light and turned to you. The heavy weight that was lingering on his shoulders when you mentioned moving had disappeared instantly. You weren’t going anywhere. You would still be here when Max returned from his races. You’d be here during the break. You’d be here, calling his phone on those Friday and Saturday nights when you needed a ride home.

“Can I ask you something?” Max spoke quietly, waiting until you nodded before getting something off his mind that had been there since this whole driving arrangement started. “Who do you call when I’m not in Monaco?”

Your smile was soft as the corner of your lips were tugged upwards. Max, if he wanted to, could have convinced himself it was the alcohol that caused you to be all smiley, but he also wanted to believe he had something to do with it. 

Dropping your gaze for a moment, you parted your lips, closed them again, and then took a breath as Max waited for your response.

“Max, I don’t go out when you’re not in Monaco.”

He was thinking he didn’t hear you correctly. Maybe you said you called some guy named Marco. That made more sense. You called a back-up rather than put your evening social life on pause while he was away.

He needed clarification, “What?”

You laughed this time, looking out the windshield. The traffic light was still red, but Max didn’t need to rely on the soft glow of the street light to make out the shade of pink that was climbing up your neck and cheeks.

“I don’t go out clubbing when you’re not in Monaco,” you repeated. He had heard you correctly.

Max wasn’t sure what to think. 

He felt like an idiot, for starters. If he had known you wanted to see him, to spend time with him, he would have put an effort in to join you during your nights out. Or better yet, maybe he would have asked you on a date. 

But he was clueless. He didn’t know that you relied on those calls at the end of the night because you were too shy to actually ask him out like a normal person would. You were too afraid of stepping outside of this pattern you both fell into because what if it didn’t work out?

Now it was all out in the open. The only reason you went out as much as you did when he was home was because you used it as an excuse to call him, to see him. 

The blaring of a horn from the car behind him caused Max to shift gears, quite literally and metaphorically. He took off, having missed the light turn green, and his attention went back to the road. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look at you, he did. He very much wanted to continue this conversation but he was at a loss for words. 

The silence only grew during the drive back to your building. In the corner of his eye, he could see you shifting in the seat. You kept turning your phone on and off, hoping there would be texts to distract you from this hush that had fallen over the car. You were overthinking everything now, did you say the wrong thing? Would it have been better if you didn’t say anything?

Max too was overthinking everything. Had he misread signs you had tried to give him? Was he now making things worse by not acknowledging what you had said? With each passing second, it became more and more unbearable as you sat in anticipation for what sort of conversation was going to come next.

When Max finally pulled into the parking garage underneath the building, you couldn’t have reached for the door handle faster. You wanted to go inside, to forget you had said anything. God you even debated deleting his number from your phone so you didn’t risk calling him again the next time you went out.

But Max was quick too. 

He knew he had to do something to make up for how painful this car ride was, something that showed you he was on the same page as you, that he too looked forward to the moments he was home just so he could wait for your phone call.

He stepped out of the car when you did, walking around the front instead of heading towards the elevator. You kept your eyes down, planning on just walking right past him, and you would have, had Max not grabbed hold of your hand and pulled you into his body.

His fingers moved from your hand to your waist as his other hand cupped the side of your face and you finally looked at him for the first time since you got into the car. 

Now it was your turn to be at a loss for words, but that didn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t like you had time to say anything before Max took that leap, crossed the line, and pressed his lips to yours. 

And it was everything you had been waiting for. 

Max leaned against the hood of his car as you slid your hand up his shirt, grabbing the thin material as you wasted no time in kissing him back. His mouth was tender and soft as it moved against yours, both of you feeling the same intensity that had been building up for weeks, maybe even months now. 

It took everything in Max to not drag you back into the car and pull you on his lap in the driver's seat, an image that he had painted in his head a while ago. Instead, his grip on your waist just tightened, holding you against his chest the way he had been wanting to for a while now.

Your nose brushed against his when you pulled back, your gaze lingered on his lips before finally darting upwards. 

The parking garage was quiet, there was a low hum that came from the pipes above you. The overhead lights did nothing to set any sort of mood, but you couldn’t imagine a better place to share a first kiss with Max.

You weren’t in the safety of his car, a place that had become so comfortable to you. By waiting until you stepped out, by stopping you from walking to the elevator, Max was showing you that this was something he wanted and he wanted it when the car ride was over. He wanted it before you called him, before you went out for the night, before the weekend even started. 

He relaxed against the hood of his car, both of you sharing similar looks of serenity. There was no more confusion, no more wavering uncertainty. 

His fingers brushed through your hair before bringing your lips to his once more. 

And then there it was, that smile of yours that made getting into his car two in the morning so fucking worth it.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Max asked. He now knew the answer wouldn’t be going out with friends, that was reserved for when he was home.

You shrugged, “I’m not sure, why?”

“Well you said you wanted a change of scenery, right?” Max recalled your conversation from earlier this week. “How about the Netherlands?”

“You want me to come to a race?” You were probably the last person who should be invited to a Grand Prix and Max knew this, he even laughed at your doubtful response. 

“I really do,” he said. 

“I don’t know anything about Formula 1.”

Max rubbed his thumb over your side, the simple gesture was enough to have your body curving against his once more. 

“I have all of next week to give you a crash course,” he pointed out. “If you’re interested.” 

And of course you were. There’s nothing else you wanted more than to spend your evenings with Max, to learn more about his career, to learn about him. When your lips curved upwards into another smile, Max knew you were on board. 

“Okay,” you nodded slightly. “On one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You go out with me the next weekend you’re in Monaco.”

Max dipped his head back and laughed. You rested your hand at the nape of his neck, pulling his face back to yours. 

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” he chuckled. “And I will, but we’ll be leaving before last call.”

“That’s fine with me as long as you still take me home,” you pressed your lips together tightly, trying to contain your eagerness for the night that was still far in the future. Max brushed his thumb over your lower lip. He too was thinking ahead. 

Not just to that upcoming weekend, but every weekend after and all of the days inbetween. 

Coming home to Monaco was always something he looked forward to, but now he had even more of a reason to anticipate the breaks between races. You two didn’t have to wait until a Friday evening to see each other anymore. 

He didn’t have to be your first call at the end of the night, but you both knew he still would be, and so much more. 

He’d be your first call when you got home from work and you’d be his when he landed in a new country. You’d be the first person to call him after watching his winning performance of a race and likewise, you’d be the first person he wanted to talk to, the first person he wanted to celebrate with.

There’d be a lot of firsts moving forward, but you didn’t need to wait until last call anymore. 

masterlist here

this was mostly for @tsarinablogs and @estevries

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Disturbing the Force

It was an epic day of Harkle shenanigans after just over a month of radio silence from Harry and a week and half without Meghan.

And they both came roaring back to the public consciousness in top form. Let's wind the clock back a little bit, and dive in.

June 14, 2024

It's Trooping Eve, and Kate kicks the celebration off with an update on her health, a new portrait, and an announcement that she will attend The King's Birthday Parade the next day. The social media post goes viral and it becomes breaking news, complete with push alerts.

June 15, 2024

Trooping Saturday. Kate makes her glorious and glamorous return to the public spotlight. Charles, recovering from his own health battle, looks fab as well.

Meghan can't deal with it and orders Nacho Figueras to shill her latest products for Roop ARO, raspberry jam and dog biscuits. The backlash is swift and immediate, and Meghan issues an almost-apology saying she didn't know that Kate would be returning to work on Trooping Saturday and she didn't intend to distract from it.

(Sure, and I didn't intend to drink a whole bottle of prosecco but 🤷‍♀️ here we are, snark and all.)

June 16, 2024

Father's Day. The official BRF social media posts archival footage of Charles and Prince Philip. William posts a photo of himself with Charles. Kate posts a photo of William and the kids with the kids' first post on social media.

The Sussexes don't observe Father's Day, unless you count activating the bots and the Squad to complain about William honoring his father with a photo that doesn't include his father's other son.

June 17, 2024

It's Garter Monday. All is quiet. William looks fantastic, as always. Kate is missed, as always.

June 18, 2024

Royal Ascot begins. It's still quiet. Lady Gabriella makes a public appearance, riding in a carriage with Anne and Peter. She looks to be in high spirits.

Meghan is still smarting over the public calling her out for stealing Kate's glory. She fires up the hotmail and gives exclusive comments to British tabloid Closer (not to be confused with Kyra Sedgwick's The Closer) that:

“Both Harry and Meghan have been following Kate’s recovery with huge interest, but sadly it’s had to be more from afar because their lines of communication with the palace and The Waleses, in particular, are very limited, to say the least. They have had enough information to know that people are excited about the idea of a comeback for Kate and they’re both relieved and happy to hear that she’s on the mend and may soon be well enough to return to her duties. They’ve jointly reached out to send well wishes, but they’re still not really in a place with Kate to warrant much of a response. That hasn’t stopped them from trying to connect and do what they see as the right thing. When Kate gets back into action, their hope is that it might take some of the heat off them and possibly trigger a truce with her and William, and with the King, too.”

and

“Meghan’s desperate to come across as the bigger person and end this feud between them – appearing like some sort of royal saviour could only do her image good. And, despite all their bad blood, her heart does go out to Kate – she can only imagine how hard this situation must be for her. Meghan has made it clear she’d love nothing more than to move past all the nonsense and find a way towards healing for everyone’s sake. She’s ready and willing to let the anger and bitterness go. Of course, it’s not really up to her and Harry, all they can do is continue to reach out and offer olive branches. Meghan hopes her feelings are being communicated to Kate through their mutual friends. There’s no doubt making peace with William and Kate would be a huge relief for Meghan on many levels, not least because it would also improve her reputation and, in turn, the new brand she’s cultivating.”

Y'all, I cannot. Meghan says she has mutual friends with Kate. Ha! That's as believable as "William's friend" giving exclusives to Richard Eden about William's plan for his monarchy.

and

“Meghan would love to be accepted by the British public again and getting the seal of approval from Kate and William would go a long way towards that. It’s got to be pretty nerve-wracking for Meghan, so much is riding on making amends with Kate and William and no matter what she and Harry do, ultimately they have very little control over the outcome, all they can do is continue to reach out, and hope for the best.”

Just to remind everyone, Closer is probably the source of the Sussexes' new British PR person that they promoted pre-Nigeria.

June 19, 2024

William attends Royal Ascot with his cousins and the Middletons. Everyone loves how close he is with his parents-in-law, compared to, well, you know.

Absolutely no one picks up Meghan's interview with Closer (maybe she should've tried Kyra Sedgwick) so Meghan's hotmail tips off the New York Post, who finally writes about it.

(Fun fact. I went to college with a girl who went to school with the Bacon-Sedgwick kids. She told me once that Kevin Bacon is more amazing than you think he is but Kyra is a bitch.)

(Also I'm watching the AFI Achievement Award for Nicole Kidman and she is so fabulous. Oh, man. They're parodying her AMC commercial with MORGAN FREEMAN. Sorry, guys. I really did drink that whole bottle of prosecco so please just bear with me.)

June 20, 2024

Meghan's check to her old stomping grounds, OK Magazine, clears and they write about the Closer's Olive Branch.

June 21, 2024

William's birthday. Kate posts one of the most amazing photographs she's ever taken of William and the kids, jumping off a sand cliff on the beach at Norfolk. One of the things that fascinates me the most about this photo is how William and George (the future kings) are looking at the camera while Charlotte and Louis are looking forward. I suppose someone more sober than me tonight can make an eloquent metaphor about how the kings are looking at their people while the spares are looking for their landing zone.

William takes his kids, Mike and Zara, Peter and Savannah, and some friends to see Taylor Swift. They have an absolutely chaotic time shaking it off, hanging out with Taylor, and meeting the Kelce Brothers.

Wales loyalists photoshop Harry's Friar Tuck into the birthday photo (or maybe it was the Father's Day photo? it was really well-done) and they also do a "who wore it best" of the dueling pink linen suits: Mike Tindall at the Eras Tour or Meghan Markle at the Lakers game.

June 22, 2024

Sussex Squad continue their shenanigans over William's dancing and attendance at the Eras Tour.

Thomas Markle publishes an op-ed in the Daily Mail talking about how all he wants is to talk to Meghan again and see her children.

It reminds me of ancient tea that came out in July 2018 (yes I can remember that specifically because I was riding on a very stinking hot London underground subway at the time) that Meghan and her people were shopping for PR agencies in late 2017/early 2018 and Meghan's brief to the PR agencies included that Samantha and Tom Sr. were to be used as sources and strategies for PR.

Whenever Meghan needs to reset the public narrative, she trots out dear ol' Dad to give her the victim edit. It's her MO, right there next to "throw everyone under the bus."

June 23, 2024

Richard Eden's op-ed that the Sussexes are becoming more irrelevanter than irrelevant gets picked up by American media, including the New York Post. But before you can think "someone forgot to pay them this week!", the article course-corrects, reminding us that the Sussexes had graciously offered to pick up royal duties while Charles and Kate are away but mean William won't let them.

June 24, 2024

The Mirror rubs it in Harry's face that he doesn't stand a chance at inheriting Diana's home. Apparently we're all "surprised" that Earl Spencer's son is set to inherit the estate "due to the aristocracy's system of primogeniture."

That reminds me. Earl Spencer's archaeological dig at Althorp found a roman bracelet. He posted about it on Twitter. (We're allowed to still call it Twitter, according to the Supreme Court.) (And I guess he's still boinking the archaeologist.)

June 25, 2024

The Japan State Visit to the UK begins. William looks fantastic accompanying the Emperor and his wife to the parade grounds to begin the visit. We all wonder what he's going to do because the state banquet takes place the same time as football. Is he going to smuggle his phone to the dinner? (Nope! But he must have required someone at KP to watch the match because their "congratulations" tweet went up lickety-split.)

Charles makes a comment during his toast about his grandchildren and Sussex Squad and anti-Katers seize ahold of it to mean that he's talking about Archie and Lili.

The BRF courts controversy when Sophie wears the Lotus Flower Tiara (famously loaned to Kate) and issues a press release saying that Queen Camilla loaned it to Sophie. Everyone gets mad and blog-shouts how dare she but I think it's a nothingburger. You can see that the tiara still "belongs" to Kate because the velvet wrapping on the brace is still the dark brown of Kate's hair (as opposed to being changed to yellow for Sophie's hair) so probably Kate meant to wear it but she couldn't attend, so it was given to Sophie because of what the lotus symbolizes in Japanese culture. (I have another anon that wrote in about this. I'll post it soon.)

Not to be outdone, Meghan's hotmail tells Marie Claire Magazine to promote her latest olive branch (from Closer on June 18th, but they quote OK Magazine's story from June 20th).

June 26, 2024

Scotty's Little Soldiers published a tearful video discussion their founder, Nikki Scott, had with Harry over loss and grief. Harry talked about losing his mother. Nikki talked about dealing with the loss of her husband and having to tell her then-five year old child.

Harry has supported Scotty's Little Soldiers since 2017 when he met the founder at a Buckingham Palace event. Harry later named Scotty's Little Soldiers as one of seven charities for his wedding.

The video doesn't really get much attention, largely going unnoticed by most. (There's some speculation it was filmed last week or when Harry was last in the UK (May for the Invictus anniversary) but I am one with the couch now.)

June 27, 2024

It was a busy, busy day for the Sussexes!

First, There was a ruling in one of Harry's lawsuits, which drops a bomb that Harry is being accused by News Group Newspapers (whom he's suing in one of his umpteen lawsuits in the phone hacking case that won't go away) of having destroyed evidence for the lawsuit. In a (tipsy) nutshell (I mean, let's face it, you do sorta have to be tipsy to understand the lawsuits), NGN wants Harry to disclose what information / evidence he has, or has knowledge of existing, supporting his allegations of the phone hacking. They are trying to find out if Harry knew he had a claim (aka grounds for a lawsuit) before 2013. If they can prove he did, then the case can be thrown out because it was filed too late.

The judge is concerned that Harry's lawyers hasn't addressed that issue and he doesn't like that Harry has been doing all the research himself and - reading between the lines - it's a veiled accusation of obstruction because it sounds like Harry has refused to cooperate with the lawyers by deliberately controlling and withholding his records from evidence disclosure. NGN says "We have had to drag those out of the claimant [Harry] kicking and screaming."

Additionally, the judge revealed "troubling evidence" that tons of messages between Harry and his Spare ghostwriter over emails and apps had been destroyed. (This is the destruction of evidence issue.

Ah, the neighbors have started shooting off July 4th fireworks. *eagle screech of freedom*)

The judge ruled that Harry and/or his team:

Must conduct a wider search of his laptop and WhatsApp account(s) for the missing emails, texts, and messages for exchanges from 2005 through early 2023

Must try to retrieve the messages from the Signal app he used to communciate with his Spare ghostwriter.

Must produce a witness statement to explain his exchanges with the ghostwriter (which could lead to testimony from the ghostwriter -- juicy!)

Must send letters to the royal household and their lawyers requesting copies relating to Harry's communications during this time so they could be examined for relevance and applicability. Two people from the royal household were named and y'all, I don't think they're happy about getting dragged into this.

Must make an interim payment of 60,000 pounds to NGN for their costs of the hearing. (I don't know why.)

(Reuters Link)

Second, the ESPYs announced today that Harry will be receiving their Pat Tillman Award for Service for his work with Invictus Games.

Here is what the press release says about Harry's selection:

In honor of his tireless work in making a positive impact for the veteran community through the power of sport, Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex will receive the Pat Tillman Award for Service, an award given to a person with a strong connection to sports who has served others in a way that echoes the legacy of the former NFL player and U.S. Army Ranger, Pat Tillman. After serving for 10 years in the British Armed Forces, including two tours of duty in Afghanistan as a forward air controller and Apache helicopter pilot, Prince Harry founded The Invictus Games Foundation, continuing his service by creating an international platform to support wounded, injured, and sick servicemen and women – both active-duty and veterans – who are navigating both physical and invisible injuries. Since inception, the Games have transcended borders and impacted lives across every continent, bringing together competitors from 23 nations, with continued support and programming 365 days of the year. Now celebrating its tenth year, The Invictus Games has evolved into a globally celebrated and acclaimed organization that celebrates resilience, community, and healing through the power of sport. Past recipients of the Pat Tillman Award for Service include Jake Wood (2018), Kirstie Ennis (2019), Kim Clavel (2020), Marcus Rashford (2021), Gretchen Evans (2022) and the Buffalo Bills Training Staff (2023). 

Yeah, we're all sorts of pissed off because it's clear that Harry bought the award because he certainly doesn't qualify for it. Invictus Games qualifies for the award; not their bratty founder who takes all the credit.

It was totally purchased for the 10th anniversary of Invictus and to help Harry look important, like he actually does something and is worth everything he grifts gets. Speaking of, they haven't announced the 2027 host yet. Small mercies, I suppose. I wouldn't put it past them to try and announce it during the Olympics, because one thing Harry (and Meghan too) is very good at is not being able to read the fucking room.

According to the tea that has leaked out, the ESPY announcement caught many off-guard at ESPN because it was not meant to happen today (check out the comments here), leading to theories that:

The Sussexes are trying to bury the news that Harry's lawsuit isn't going well and that he's been reamed out in court.

Harry is trying to compete with William, who is attending a conference today for Earthshot 2023 winners with Bill Gates and Hannah Waddingham.

It's a tactical PR campaign to prop Hero Harry up for the UK's observance of Armed Forces Day on Saturday, June 29th.

or

4. All of the above.

(if you guessed #4, you're right!)

Third, in the most amazing of coincidences, Meghan Markle was papped in Beverly Hills merching a tracksuit for a photo shoot. Since it was near a popular coffee shop, my theory is that she's doing something for that Clevr thing, the one she did the commercial for last year. Maybe some kind of corporate partnership with her lifestyle brand. Clevr + ARO = the tracksuit fashion no one but Sue Sylvester needs.

Anyway. That's what you missed on Glee.

[songmingisthighs]

how ateez treats your child

group : ateez

pairing : ateez (individual) × single mom!reader

genre : fluff

wc : 3 k

warning : children. children are walking warning signs.

a/n : this cancelled my sleep so there's that </3

buy me coffee ?

hongjoong

The door of your apartment opened and in comes your son squealing happily for you, almost running inside until Hongjoong stopped him to take his shoes off first. As Hongjoong helped him, he was grinning widely at you who walked over to meet them halfway, "Hi mommy!" He called, finally able to rush to give you a huge hug once his shoes were completely off. "Hiya, bud! How was your day with Hongjoong?" Though you asked him, Hongjoong beat him to answering, "We had a great time! Little buddy here mastered the C, D, G, and A chord on the piano!" He boasted as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pecking your lips gently making your son gag before rushing to put his backpack in his room.

You both separated momentarily and you cupped your boyfriend's face, "Seriously Joongie, thank you so much for picking him up from school, I swear I would've done-" Hongjoong stopped your rambling by planting another soft peck on your lips with a chuckle, "Hey, I told you we had a great time. I finally found someone who wouldn't complain sitting in my studio for hours on end and you can't take that away from me," teased, poking fun at the times you complained about him needing a break from his work.

Just as you were about to shower him with more affection, your son returned to push Hongjoong away with all his might. "My turn to hug mommy!" He said after he managed to unlatch Hongjoong from you. Feeling challenged, Hongjoong pulled him away just as he was about to wrap all four of his limbs around you, "No way, I spent the day with you now I want time with my girlfriend." Hongjoong knew how jealous your son can be because he too is a jealous man. So as expected, your son screeched and began to try to get Hongjoong as far away from you as he could. But of course, Hongjoong retaliated, using your son's socks clad feet to carefully push him just enough so he'd slide away from you while you stood there both confused and amused at their shenanigans.

seonghwa

On Saturdays, you'd usually spend the morning catching up with your friends and knowing this, Seonghwa made sure to sleep over on Fridays as often as he could to help care for your daughter (which is crap because he's always at your place anyways). Unbeknownst to you, he and your daughter had bonded beyond your imagination. Not that you were surprised since Seonghwa had spent years taking care of a group filled with 5 year olds, your own 5 year old must've been easy to take care of.

When you came back from your brunch, you were surprised to find Seonghwa and your daughter by the dining table, your daughter standing on a chair and Seonghwa close to her side, looking absolutely serious. They had their arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed as they stared at the 10 plates of cake in front of them. It was honestly an adorable sight because for some reason, you saw how they looked so similar.

"Am I interrupting something?" You chuckled as you approached them. Seonghwa welcomed you by wrapping an arm around your hip and kissing the side of your head as youe daughter answered, "Hwahwa and I are food testing again! Today's theme is bakery we can't pronounce!" She grinned widely before returning to glare at the cakes. "Aaaaaand why are you guys only staring at these cakes?" You asked with a raised eyebrow. Seonghwa sighed and shook his head, "We can't decide where to start so we're trying to rank them from the prettiest first before actually sampling them," Seonghwa explained. "And it's such a hard decision!" Your daughter groaned and dramatically leaned on Seonghwa for support. Reciprocating, your boyfriend also faked a cry, turning around to let you go in favour of hugging your daughter, "We are stuck in a dilemma!" "Well, whatever you guys decide to do, better do it fast before the ants tries the cakes first," you sighed before retreating to change, leaving your boyfriend and your daughter to go back to... whatever activity they were doing.

yunho

Babysitting was something Yunho didn't expect to do for his girlfriend. Then again, he didn't expect that he'd be dating a single mom. Luckily, you had the most precious daughter that just melt Yunho's whole being and he loves her so much that he didn't consider babysitting as babysitting anymore.

As he was washing the dishes after eating the food he got for him and your daughter, he heard the soft pitter patter of her tiny feet and then he felt soft tugs on his sweatpants. Without abandoning his task, Yunho looked down at the girl with a gentle smile, "Yes, peanut?" She giggled happily, liking the nickname a lot. "Can you teach me how to dance?" She asked, tilting her head to the side like the most adorable puppy ever. Yunho grinned widely because he had always wanted to impart some of his knowledge to someone and the most imparting he had done was turning his little brother to a gaming nerd. After wiping his hands with a rag, Yunho crouched down to the girl's level (as best he could because even when crouching down, the tiny girl only reached his chin), "Okay then, what dance do you wanna learn?"

Your daughter decided that she wanted to learn Bouncy which wasn't even in the list of dances Yunho offered her as he thought it would be too hard for her. But she was adamant, shaking her head so hard that her pigtails almost came loose. But to Yunho's pleasant surprise, the girl was amazing. She picked up the choreography smoothly in 3 tries. Sure, Yunho had to simplify certain parts but she got most of the choreography down. He couldn't help but takw a video of them dancing together and sending it to his groupmates, parents, and even you, captioning it 'look at me and my peanut ♡'.

yeosang

It was a casual day which was rare for both you and Yeosang. Since your life has been so hectic, you decided to stay in with your son who decided he wanted to use the time he had to finish his homework. Yeosang and he had been friendly with each other but they were not close (yet) as they haven't spent much time together nor have they found anything in common. But you were hopeful.

You and Yeosang were cuddled on the couch as the TV played a drama that you and he wanted to watch while your son sat on the floor with his homework spread open on the portable desk. "I'll be right back sweetie," you told Yeosang, patting him on the thigh before walking away to go to the bathroom. At first, Yeosang only paid attention to the tv but from the corner of his eyes, he could see your son looking around for you every so often, lips pouting and hand scratching his head which indicated that he was stuck on his homework. For some reason, Yeosang found it in him to be the first one to make the move, "Hey there buddy, what homework do you got there?" He asked, catching your son by surprise. For a moment, your son could only look back and forth between the homework and Yeosang, hesitating. Yeosang was about to tell him that he didn't have to share when your son grabbed his book and walked over to Yeosang on his knees and dropped the book on Yeosang's lap, "It's math but I don't know how to do this," he said sadly, gesturing to the opened page. Yeosang grinned widely and his chest puffed with pride, "Well, lucky for you, I'm a math wiz! Come on, let's solve this together."

When you came back, you saw Yeosang had situated himself next to your son on his portable desk, teaching him how to solve the equations that he was stuck on and he was conversing with the boy so well. He allowed the boy to try and solve the equation and gently letting him know where he was wrong. They were so immersed that they hadn't realized you returning to your seat as they took a break to play the multiplication game, evem teasing each other when the other took too long to answer.

san

San loved kids and it showed with how he actually volunteered on babysitting your son as you go on a business trip. At first you were worried because your son had never been away from you to be in a place that's not your home. But San convinced you that it was fine, he was fine with spending time with his best bud and if it wasn't for the great bond they had, you wouldn't have been able to leave your baby to tend to your responsibilities.

"Say bye to mommy!" San urged your son who was sitting on his lap wearing his beanie. "Bye mommy! I miss you!" Your son said as he waved his hands to the camera while San did the same, throwing lots of air kisses your way before hanging up. As soon as the call ended, your son went back to watching San played a game. "Is that uncle Yunho?" He asked, reaching forward to point at a character on the screen. San grinned widely and pat the boy on the head gently, "That's right, bud! You're starting to understand the game, don't you?" They spent another hour like that, San playing the game with Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho as your son ask him questions and eventually even tried a round (to which he died within 30 seconds and San had to hug and reassure him that he'd teach him how to play better and in time, he might be great).

Without realizing, as it was his habit, San started singing random songs that popped into his head. The crisp sound of keyboard and mouse clicking paired with San's honey voice proved to induce sleep in your son as his eyes drooped low and his eyelids fluttered ever so gently before closing. It took a while for San to realize that your son had been quiet, only leaning on his sturdy chest. When he looked down, San almost squaled at just how adorable your son looked sleeping so comfortably; one of his eyes covered by the beanie that had shifted, his mouth agape, and his body completely relaxed comfortably in San's lap. Carefully, San took a selfie of him and your son, changing the picture to his homescreen before shutting the game and bringing the boy who wrapped his arms tightly around San's neck when San lifted him up to the bed so he could sleep soundly. Even then, your son refused to let go of San, holding onto two of San's fingers as he dozed off to dreamland where San soon followed.

mingi

Kids were something Mingi wanted in the future. He knew he wanted to have his own but he knew that he's going to have to learn and practice before actually having one. Which was a predicament considering he's dating someone with a 3 year old daughter. But she's just the most precious thing ever that Mingi pushed his insecurities away to dote on the princess.

Like now, Mingi found himself unable to peel away from your bed where your daughter was napping. He was mesmerized at how adorable she looked with her tiny tiny snores and absolute relaxed expression. "Mingi, baby, you're going to wake her up if you keep staring at her like that," you said, poking your boyfriend on his shoulder for him to simply wave you off, "No I won't, I promise. I'm just trying to understand how she's so absolutely adorable like a tiny tiny marshmallow," he squeaked in utter adoration. You couldn't help but smile and rolled your eyes at how whipped Mingi was for your daughter but you couldn't blame him. "Well, I'm going to go the convenience store because the little princess is going to want her yogurt when she wakes up and we're out. So you try your best to not eat this tiny tiny marshmallow," you teased him before leaving the room and the apartment.

After a while, Mingi felt a little thirsty so he carefully got off the bed and went to the kitchen. He was just taking his first gulp when he heard soft whimpers and sobs coming from your room. Immediately, he put the glass down and rushed to the little girl who was sitting up on the bed, sniffling because she thought she was left alone. When she heard Mingi came in, she immediately reached both hands towards him, asking to be picked up. "Minnie," she whimpered with trembling bottom lip. Without thinking, Mingi scooped the girl up in his arms and started calming her down while she clung on him for dear life. "Don't worry princess, Minnie's here, Minnie's got you," he repeated, smiling to himself when he heard the girl calming down as she nuzzled her face on his shoulder, finally content.

wooyoung

Initially you hesitated dating Wooyoung because you have a daughter. A 4 year old daughter who is your whole life and the very reason you hesitated being in a relationship. But when you found Wooyoung who absolutely adored your daughter, you knew you made the right choice taking the leap.

Usually, the men you date would make you leave your daughter at your friend's or with a babysitter or even with your parents by guilt-tripping or bluntly stating that they didn't feel comfortable with your kid. Not Wooyoung though, not at all. He's the type to want to take your daughter on your dates, even going as far as planning the date around your daughter. You couldn't forget her face when Wooyoung took her to the fox cafe, seeing them both running around the place and somehow blending in with the animals. That day, Wooyoung came home with 137 nee pictures and videos of your daughter going nuts over the animals. Since then, they were insepparable.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up my daughter," you smiled at the receptionist of the daycare who stared at you in confusion. "I-I'm sorry, but someone already came in for your daughter," she said, causing your eyes to bulge out in panic, "What? Who? Why would you let a stranger take my child?" Your voice was getting louder which scared the poor receptionist. "I-I'm sorry ma'am it-it's just that, your daughter called him papa so I-" "Papa? Who-" just as you were about to continue, your eyes saw a very familiar figure holding your daughter in his arms, happily talking. Wooyoung's eyes met yours and he momentarily paused, realizing that he got caught "kidnapping" your daughter. Just as you were about to call for him, Wooyoung grinned widely and pointed at you which caused your daughter to turn in his arms and beamed. "Now, say bye bye to mama!" He teased but your daughter did as she was told anyways, waving at you happily saying bye bye before Wooyoung whisked her away without any care, casually walking out of the daycare as if you weren't frozen in your spot, looking at them leaving just like that.

jongho

Jongho knew what he got himself into when he agreed to date you, knowing full well that you have a son. He didn't really care about whether or not you have a child but he grew very fond of the boy rather quickly. How can he not? The boy seemed to take a liking to Jongho to the point that he idolized the man. Especially Jongho's strength.

The three of you went out for a picnic because it was such a beautiful day and your son remembered Jongho saying that he should be out when the sun is out. As he was helping you take food out, he noticed the boy was doing the same, even taking glances at how Jongho was doing things. It was absolutely adorable. Suddenly, Jongho stood up and reached for a bag to produce a soccer ball. "Hey, bud," he spun and tossed the ball in his hands and you could see your son getting so hyped up, super excited, "Wanna learn how to play soccer?" Jongho asked. Seeing as your son basically had sparkles in his eyes, you could only roll your eyes playfully and shoo them off to play so you could FINALLY set the food up in peace..

They chose a spot not too far, somewhere you can still keep an eye on your son but still relax in the shady area with your book. Jongho and your son were having a blast being active together. The boy was thrilled to have been given personal coaching from the guy he admired most and Jongho was experiencing the joy of mentoring a child who looked up to him as much. "There you go, buddy! That's it!" Jongho cheered when your son managed to kick the ball with a running start. Unfortunately, once the ball was kicked, he tripped and fell on the grass. Just as you were about to rush to him, you saw Jongho rushing at the boy who had tears brimming in his eyes and a quivering bottom lip, frozen on the ground not knowing what to do. Without hesitation, Jongho pulled the boy up and hugged him tightly in his strong arms, "I'm so proud of you, buddy! That was such a good kick!" Jongho was hoping that by reminding him of his achievement, your son wouldn't focus much on his fall which thankfully happened. When your son pulled away from Jongho's hug, he was giggling while wiping the tears away with his arm, nodding shyly. "Do you think you can do that again after we eat something?" Jongho asked as he adjusted the boy before swooping down to grab the ball on the ground and walking towards where you were. You've never seen your son so excited talking about anything to anyone and frankly, you couldn't be more glad that it was Jongho who made him so.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @thesolarplanetarysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread @spooo00oky @jwnghyuns @cutie-wooyo @asjkdk @shinotani @aestheticsluut

@chloepurpy

[blackypanther9]

How M/n met Mimzy

WARNING!: Cursing, insulting words, threatening, Racist behavior (in memories), angst, Reader is supportive of Alastor, mention of drugging, poisoning, abuse AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

A/N: Remember it is only a fanfic and I just built in background ! Nothing is REAL nor intented to hurt anyone ! Picture belongs to rightful owner ! zeotropes0 The sick part is after the Mimzy part it starts at "M/n felt like utter shit."

TAGLIST!: @zoetropes0, @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved

Words: 7 365

It had been almost 3 years since M/n was living with Alastor. They formed a strong and very close bond too, in that short time. The Radio Host found it high time, that M/n met one of his close friends, Mimzy.

The boy was excited and nervous since Alastor informed him about that. That day was a Friday and the second week of the month in October. Alastor got Saturday and Sunday off from work and decided to meet up with Mimzy again.

“So...what are they like ?”, M/n asked his Father.

Alastor didn’t tell M/n that it was a girl. All he said was “a friend”.

“Oh, you’ll LOVE her, mon petit (My little one) ! She’s a real Sweetheart !”, Alastor replied happily.

M/n stopped dead in his tracks, of cleaning up his Dad’s office. He turned to him, stiffly.

“HER ?”, the boy repeated and stared at his Father, who just threw away packages of their lunches from the day.

“Yes indeedy ! You’ll love her ! And I’m sure she’ll love you as well !”

M/n suddenly didn’t feel too sure about that anymore. With his Dad’s new Boss, after Mr. Floyd was found dead in the park not far from here, he started to get very possessive and protective of his Father.

Miss Revonna Ducasse was her name. She constantly tried to get into his pants. M/n couldn’t really blame all the women that threw longing eyes at his Father. He looked handsome and well groomed, he was an absolute Goofball, he never complained about anything, he had manners, he had high morals, he was well raised despite his bad Childhood and he was an absolute charming Gentleman. There was nothing to hate about him. At least in M/n’s opinion.

Of course there were haters. The racists mostly. Because his Dad had a mixed skin color. What M/n loved most about his Dad was that he was a Creole. He spoke English and French. It gave him a slight accent in his voice, but Alastor always tried to suppress it, no one ever really heard his accent, not even M/n did. Why was Alastor hiding his New Orleans accent ?

Because he is ashamed to have it. His Father and a few kids in his school made fun out of him for a long time. His Father later on forced him to speak, what he considered, normally. His Mother was the only one that was still allowed to hear it, as she was still alive. After she died, he always suppressed it.

How did M/n know about his Father’s accent ? Well...let’s just say a lot of people have it around and it confused the boy greatly, until Alastor explained it to him. He knew that his Father was born and raised here, so M/n came to the simple conclusion that he suppressed his accent, for whatever reason. M/n pestered him about it once and Alastor spilled the tea.

Why did M/n not have that accent ? His birth parents and Sister didn’t have that accent. He supposed they came from a different state and then just moved here. After all...Alastor had to teach M/n French, to understand his Dad and to communicate with him, when he doesn’t want anyone else to know, what they are discussing.

M/n was not as thrilled anymore, to meet his Dad’s friend. It was a girl. YUCK !

“Are you sure you can trust her, Papa ?”, M/n asked gently.

He turned to his Son.

“Of course I am sure, Cher !”, he said, surprised that his Son seemed to not like the idea as much anymore.

M/n bit his lip and only nodded gently.

“Parle-t-elle français ? (Does she speak French ?)”, M/n asked.

“Elle le fait un peu. (She does a bit.)”

So M/n can’t converse with his Dad in French...great...

“Applesauce.”, M/n cursed in a huff.

Alastor looked at his Son in slight concern. Why was he so annoyed suddenly ?

“What seems to be the Problem, Son ?”, he asked gently.

“I don’t like that she can partly understand and speak French. I hate it when people understand what we converse. What if there is something I want to tell you and she is not supposed to hear it ? I will have to wait until we are home and who knows what could have happened until then !”, the boy stressed.

Alastor gave him a confused look.

“What are you implying, mon petit ?”

M/n looked at his Father, as if he was the most stupid man on earth.

“With all due respect, Papa...HAVE YOU LOOKED AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR ?!”, M/n yelled and wildly pointed all over Alastor’s figure.

The Radio Host grew insecure about his form. What was his Son trying to get across ?

M/n saw insecurity creeping into his Father and he huffed. He approached his Father, snatched his hand in a tight grip and dragged him away, to the men bathroom. He locked the door behind himself and then pushed Alastor in front of the full body mirror.

The Radio Host could see his Son’s glare, arms crossed over his chest. Even though he was soon a 9 year old boy, he seemed very wise.

“What do you see, and do not DARE to lie to me.”, M/n said.

Alastor looked into the mirror, nervously.

“Uhm...What...am I supposed to see, Cher ?”

M/n face palmed.

“Look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see, when you look at yourself. Applesauce, Father !”, M/n cursed with a slight glare.

Alastor did and memories came crashing back down on him. His smile wavered.

 “Look at you ! Disgusting ! Look how brown you are !”

“Eww ! Why is he so dark ?!”

“Freak !”

“Just as disgusting as your Mother ! I knew it was a stupid idea to marry that Bitch and have a brat like you with her !”

“He needs a bath to wash the color off of his skin !”

_________________

Children pushed him into the mud and “Bathed” him to be browner.

“Let’s bathe him in mud, so he will get darker ! Hahahaha !”

“Stop it ! Please, stop it !”, his younger self sobbed out.

He couldn’t control how he came out. Why was he punished for this ? Why did color of skin matter ?!

_________________

His Father threw him onto the ground outside, onto small stones. His grin was sinister.

“Come on, Brat. You need a bath.”

His child self sobbed, staring at his Father in fear. His own Father...

The man grabbed small stones in his hands, snatched his younger self’s left arm and started to roughly rub the stones on his skin. Causing the boy to cry and his skin to split open. He tried to pull it away.

“Maybe you are lighter underneath once this disgusting layer is off !”, the man mocked the boy.

“Dad ?”

“Rub it off !”

The boy tried to fight his Father off.

“Papa ?!”

“RuB iT oFf !”

He continued to fight him, yelling and screaming in pain, but the man didn’t stop.

“Papa !”

“RUB IT OFF !”

There was so much pain and blood-

“PAPA !!!”

Alastor jolted out of his memories with a flinch. He looked at M/n from the mirror, who had wide eyes of worry and fear. Unshed tears stood in the boy’s eyes, which confused Alastor, until he looked at himself in the mirror.

His smile was gone, his fingers were digging into his arms, which were in front of his chest and tears were running down his cheeks. He was in every aspect...NOT alright. He jolted in surprise as something collided with his legs and waist. He looked down and saw his Son, hugging him tightly.

He released his hold on his arms and ran his right hand through his Son’s hair, gently.

“I see a dark skin colored man, with a weak figure and he has silly little tantrums over nothing.”, Alastor answered softly.

That’s how he really felt, since his own Father hated him. He was the hated child since he was born. The only one who loved him...was his Mother.

M/n squeezed his Father’s legs, before he let go.

“That is not true at all, Papa.”

“You wanted me to tell you what I see. I see just that when I see...myself.”

Alastor yelped in surprise as he felt a smack on his ass, a harsh one. He looked at his Son in the mirror, M/n’s eyes gave him a harsh stare back.

“Well then, here is what me and many others see, you absolute Dumbo !”

Alastor felt slightly insulted, but kept it in for now.

“I see a very charismatic man, he is charming, sweet, gentle, understanding, has a big heart, loves to do his job, loves to help, hates people with bad manners and he is so much more showing into the open world. The man, me and many others see, is handsome, a Gentleman, looks always well groomed, he is an absolute Goofball, he never complains about anything, he has manners, he has high morals, he was well raised despite his bad Childhood and he is an absolute Sweetheart.”, M/n listed off.

Alastor’s eyes were wide in shock and awe. That’s how his Son saw him ?

“You always dress properly, you always talk politely, you never show your annoyance, whatever you do, you do it politely. You barely lie, you take care of the people you care about and it is easy to make friends with you. You are easy to approach and talk to. You can make someone feel very welcomed and listened to. Not many have these traits, Papa. All in all...you are true Husband material. You scream ravishing and sexy no matter where you are.”, M/n continued.

The Radio Host looked at M/n from the mirror, while he eyed himself too. He never saw the appeals. If M/n points all that out though...he had a point.

“Where are you going with this, Cher ?”, Alastor asked gently.

“What I am getting at is that a lot of women are attracted to you and would do anything to get into your bed ! You scream sexy ! I don’t want you to think that girl pals will suddenly be happy, with you just being their friend ! Stay alerted ! Friends like that could easily use you ! I want what is best for you and I saw many women and even a few men eye you like candy in a store !”, M/n yelled at him frustrated.

At that Alastor turned around and actually looked at his Son. Was that all ? M/n was worried about him ? Overprotective ? He gave his Son a small smile.

“Are you worried about me or jealous that you could lose all my attention ?”, he asked his Son.

“I am concerned for you, Dad. Miss Ducasse already tried multiple times to get into your pants, claiming that she was your Boss and you have to listen to her. Do you really think I would not hear that Blueberry juice ?”, he asked him stressed out.

Alastor’s smile wavered. Ah yes...Ducasse tried to force him into sexual activity with herself, by threatening to fire him. Since then M/n was most of the times with him and if he wasn’t one of his coworkers waited for him to arrive and be by his side at all times. He still had no idea how they knew.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and gave his Son a big smile.

“Don’t worry about me, Cher ! Nothing bad will happen !”, he assured him.

Then he looked at his watch and tutted.

“We have to hurry, otherwise we will be late to meet up with her !”

With that he unlocked and opened the door. M/n followed behind his Father. He had a BAD gut feeling about this...

And his gut was NEVER wrong before.

-Time skip-

They finally arrived at their destination, which was a bar. M/n looked around in nerves and Alastor led him to a table. It was close to a small stage in the bar and M/n felt even worse in his gut. He looked around, nervously.

“Relax, Cher ! Nothing bad will happen here.”, the Radio Host assured the boy with a smile.

Then a waitress came and asked for their orders. Alastor ordered himself a New Orleans Sazerac and for M/n a nonalcoholic orange juice. She noted it all down and then left to get them their drinks.

Suddenly music started and the stage lit up. Alastor had a big smile on his face and looked at the stage. M/n turned and looked too, soon enough there was a woman. She was a bit on the shorter size, she started to sing. M/n didn’t like her voice all that much...

It was a good song, but the woman’s voice just didn’t really fit for it. But as he looked at his Father, he only saw him smile and enjoy the show.

‘How can he like the song with this voice ?’

Soon enough their drinks arrived and Alastor was casually sipping his New Orleans Sazerac. M/n didn’t touch his juice and looked at the female, singing. He scoffed in his mind, knowing he could do better with his kid voice. He can sing his Father’s favorite song without any help and would sing better than her.

‘This is gonna be a loooong night...’, M/n groaned annoyed in his mind.

He looked at his happy Father again. He didn’t glare at him, but he would so love to at the moment.

‘The things I do for him...He better be happy for the rest of this week, otherwise I will NEVER come here with him again. This is pushing my patience...This woman is NOT my cup of tea...’

-An hour later-

The show was over, finally.

‘Finally ! I thought I will die soon enough !’

Some songs were alright, with that voice of the woman, but most of them didn’t really...get the glory and appreciation with that voice. In his eyes it sounded like a woman’s voice trying too hard to fit with every song. In some it just...didn’t sound good. That so many clapped at that, his own adoptive Father included, is beyond him.

What M/n couldn’t help with though...was questioning himself with where his Father’s girl buddy was. She is an hour late. Did his Dad lie to him, to go drinking ? He had his second New Orleans Sazerac and M/n had his fifth orange juice.

Ten minutes passed as suddenly the same voice, from the woman on the stage from before, called out Alastor’s name. M/n snapped his head around and stared at the woman, that approached their table with a smile. He looked at his Father and his eyes almost bulged out of his skull, his old man was smiling at her and waved her over.

‘Oh HELL NO.’

M/n slumped his shoulders for three seconds then sat back up properly and looked at her.

“Hello, dear Mimzy !”, Alastor greeted happily.

Alastor waited for her to approach and then she sat down on the chair next to Alastor, practically in front of M/n. He fought very hard the glare he wanted to send her and looked at his Dad instead. He looked at his Son in return, with a bright smile.

“M/n, this lovely woman is Mimzy. Mimzy, this is my Son, M/n.”, he introduced the two of them.

She gave the boy a smile and waved at him.

“Hello there, little one. Nice to meet you.”, she greeted warmly.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Mimzy.”, M/n politely greeted back, a smile on his face.

He knew women like Mimzy. She was just putting up a show right now. She was NOT friendly. Alastor chuckled and emptied his glass again, then stood up, looking at them both.

“I need to use the restroom. Please do get acquainted, you two.”, Alastor encouraged them, then left.

“Be careful, Papa !”, M/n called after him.

“I will be, Cher !”, Alastor replied and then was gone.

M/n turned to Mimzy and as expected...she glared at him.

“So you are the little runt, Al took in out of pity.”, she snarled.

M/n glared back at her.

“Excuse you ? What did you fucking call me, bitch ?”, the soon to be nine year old asked darkly.

“Oh and such bad manners towards a Lady too. How disgusting.”, she said with an insulted voice.

“I’m not a mirror, woman. You called me a fucking runt. Do you really expect me to still be polite, when you can’t be polite towards me ? You want my respect ? Fucking earn it.”, M/n growled out with a death glare.

“Respect your elders, you rude brat.”, she scoffed.

“Respect your next generation, if you still want the world to turn, after your departure, disgusting, foul, bitch. Your future is in OUR hands. The next generation’s hands.”, M/n spat.

She glared harshly at him, which didn’t intimidate M/n. He stayed strong and didn’t look away at all. Staring contest ? You are on, Mimzy.

“I will tell you how this will go now, brat. I want you gone, away from MY Alastor, in a week. You aren’t until then, I will make him get rid of you.”, she threatened M/n.

The boy scoffed.

“For what do you take me for ? A stupid child ? Listen here whore, my Father doesn’t belong to you, he doesn’t even belong to me. I belong to HIM. Big difference, sugar cube. Alastor OWNS me. You want to own him and I won’t let that happen. Curl up and die, bitch.”, M/n told her darkly and gave her the finger.

“What would Alastor just think, if he hears about this, hmm ?”, she asked with a grin, thinking she had the upper hand.

M/n smirked back.

“What would Papa think, if he finds out what kind of bitch his friend is, hmm ? He believes me everything, because I never lie. He KNOWS he can trust my words more than anyone’s.”, he countered.

Her eyes grew wide at that. Her face turned red and the soon to be 9 year old could see how angered she was at that. Then M/n saw his Father return and pretended like nothing happened. He gave Mimzy a subtle smirk, only she could see and then a wink. She scowled.

“So, what have I missed, you two ?”, Alastor asked happily as he sat back down.

M/n looked at his Father with a big smile.

“Not much. Can I have another glass of Orange juice, please, Papa ?”, M/n asked with a smile.

Alastor smiled warmly at his Son, thinking he warmed up to Mimzy, and nodded. He called over a waitress and asked for a glass of whiskey and a glass of orange juice. After the waitress left, Alastor suggested that Mimzy would talk about her life a bit, before she came here as performer.

With that they stayed for at least another hour, listening to Mimzy’s life story, which didn’t interest M/n at all, after the stunt she pulled. He just wanted to get out and never come back, with his Father in tow.

M/n gave Mimzy very little information about himself, which Alastor respected. It took M/n a bit, to warm up to him too. After it was starting to get really late for M/n, in Alastor’s opinion, he decided to pay for the drinks he and his Son had, to say Goodbye and then he went home with M/n.

“So, how was she, Cher ?”

‘An absolute self centered, needy, bratty Bitch...’

“She was alright, I guess. I still need time to connect to her, but I think we will get there, Papa.”, M/n lied easily.

For Alastor, the boy didn’t speak his mind. He wants to keep his Father safe and sheltered, but he doesn’t want to see him sad either, so he will not tell him that they both hate each other and they insulted one another.

“That’s good news, mon petit !”, the Radio Host replied happily, unaware of what really happened.

As they arrived home, Alastor quickly got to cooking a warm meal and M/n went to his room and started to get dressed into his Pyjamas. He washed his hands and growled. The last glass of Orange juice tasted weird. Mimzy brought it. Did she spike it ?

“I swear if this hoe spiked my drink...I will go fucking wild...”, he growled under his breath.

After a few minutes, Alastor called M/n down for Dinner, which he quickly sat down for. Together they ate their meal and then went to bed. M/n promised to wash the dishes tomorrow morning for him.

-The next day-

M/n felt like utter shit. He twisted in bed, didn’t want to get up either. His stomach was doing flips and it was hurting. Mimzy did put something in his drink then...

The door opened to his room.

“Mon petit~! Wake up, rise and shine !”, Alastor cheerily called.

He had a bright smile on his face, but it weakened as he heard his Son groan weakly. M/n never did that, he always got up and greeted him with a yawn. He opened the curtains for the windows and then approached the bed, with M/n inside it. He knelt down and looked at the boy’s face, which was hidden in the blanket.

“Cher ? What’s wrong ?”, he asked worried.

M/n couldn’t speak. He was afraid to throw up if he did. He waved his hands slowly around and tried to communicate with his Dad like that, but Alastor didn’t understand anything. Why was he waving his hands slowly, instead of talking ?

The boy got tears in his eyes. He wanted to speak, but he felt too on edge of throwing up, to do so. He pointed to his desk. It took Alastor a bit to understand what he wanted him to do, but he turned to the desk.

“You want me at your desk ?”, he asked his Son and looked at him.

A thumbs up.

Alastor got up and went to it.

“What now, Cher ?”

M/n made a motion for his note book and a pen, then motioned a writing motion carefully.

“You want me to get your note book and a pen ?”

Thumbs up.

Alastor grabbed the items and then returned to his Son’s side. M/n VERY carefully sat up and took the items, his teeth clenched shut and Alastor saw how pale his Son was. He slowly wrote into the note book. As he finished he gave his Father the book to read.

I don’t feel good. Feel like vomiting and my stomach is all over the place.

He looked at his Son and gave the book back to him.

“Do you know what caused it ?”, he asked.

Again M/n wrote then gave it back to Alastor.

I think it was the last glass of orange juice. Tasted different than the other glasses I had.

His eyes widened at that and he rushed down the stairs as fast as possible, almost falling over his own feet twice. He ripped up his phone and quickly called his house Doctor. He picked up quickly and answered.

“Mr. Hugo, I think my nine year old Son got drugged yesterday ! What shall I do ?!”, Alastor panicked.

On the other line the man replied and asked questions.

“I don’t know ! He said the last orange juice he had yesterday evening tasted funny ! All he had after that was Dinner, but he didn’t complain ! His face was only scrunched up with the last glass of orange juice ! He feels like throwing up and his stomach is all over the place !”

He was silent again, worried sick. What if his Son will die ?! No, no, no ! He can’t think like that !

“Alright ! I will do that ! Thank you ! I will see you there !”

He hung up and hurried to get ready to leave the house, then he rushed to his Son’s room, who laid back down and was confused. Alastor picked him up, bridal style and still wrapped up in his blanket, then he went out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house and put M/n into his car, in the back.

Then he closed the car door and rushed back into the house. He got a bucket for his Son and then he got a few clothes for M/n packed, then he rushed back out, locked the house door, jumped into his car, started the engine and drove off.

“We are driving to the hospital, M/n. Hold on and try to not puke.”, Alastor said with a frightened voice.

The boy felt bad for worrying his Dad and slowly lifted his arm, showing a thumb up. Alastor hurried over to the hospital quickly and there his house doctor already stood. Dr. Hugo. The Radio Host stopped the car, turned off the engine, unlocked the car and then jumped out, while the doctor also rushed to the car.

Alastor carefully got out his Son from the back and then turned to Dr. Hugo. He looked at M/n’s pale face and took a sharp inhale.

“This pale skin is NOT normal, not even for sick kids. Follow me, Mr. Hazbin.”, Dr. Hugo said and rushed into the hospital.

Alastor locked up his car and ran after his doctor, with M/n in his arms.

“I need an empty room ! We need to pump out a little boy’s stomach ASAP !”, Mr. Hugo yelled.

Nurses and other doctors rushed around at that and the three were led into an empty patient room. Alastor put him down on the table and Dr. Hugo was about to shoo him out, but he saw how tightly M/n held his Father.

M/n was scared shitless. He had no idea what was going on and Alastor was the only one, he could trust and he knew him best. Everything went too fast, too much stress at once, he was so scared. He didn’t want his Father to leave.

Alastor looked down at his Son and saw that M/n was so scared that he even let tears fall. His plea was obvious.

He wanted him to stay by his side.

He turned to Mr. Hugo, who sighed and pulled up a chair, for the Radio Host to sit down on. He sat down and held his Son’s hand the whole time, while the nurses and Dr. Hugo worked on M/n.

Alastor himself had a few tears in his eyes. How could he let this happen to his Son ?! Whoever drugged M/n...will PAY. Not his child. No one hurts HIS child and gets away with it !

-Time skip-

M/n was passed out on the bed, he was moved onto, after they pumped out his stomach. Right now, the remains, which were in M/n’s stomach, were in the lab. Alastor sat next to his Son on the bed, watching over him. Some color returned to his Son’s face at least. That was a positive thing. At least that was what Dr. Hugo said.

The door opened again and Alastor’s head snapped up, spotting his house doctor.

“What did you find ?”, the Radio Host asked softly.

The doctor sighed and leaned against the closed door.

“You are lucky that you have such a fighter, for a Son, Mr. Hazbin. M/n should be dead already.”, the man informed.

The Radio Host’s eyes widened, in horror.

“Wh-what ?”

“It was a very high overdose on painkillers. It should have killed him overnight, but he made it through until now. And color seems to return to his face just fine now, so he survived it closely. Just throwing up...wouldn’t have solved it. The stomach pumping was his salvation. Good quick thinking.”

He looked at his Son in horror. Someone wanted to KILL him !

“W-was it...in the orange juice ?”, Alastor shakily asked.

“It was, I’m afraid.”, Dr. Hugo confirmed with a sigh.

That solved it then. No more going to the bar for a while. If Mimzy wants to meet up with him again, she will have to come and visit him, no more bars for a while.

“As soon as he wakes up we will run a few tests and determine if he can go back home. He will be very weak and have a weakened Immune System for a few days. He needs a lot of bed rest and he will need a lot of help, moving to the bathroom and such.”

“I can take care of that, if he is allowed back home. I just need a sick leave for my Job and then I can take full care of my Son.”, Alastor replied.

He will always be there for M/n, no matter what.

The doctor nodded and left.

-Time skip-

M/n woke up a while ago, had all the tests run on him and was allowed to return home. Dr. Hugo himself said that he will send the sick leave, for the Radio Host, to his workplace, himself.

Alastor brought him to bed and covered him in the blanket properly, then opened the boy’s bedroom window, to let fresh air inside.

“Papa...?”, M/n called out weakly.

Alastor turned around, looking at M/n with a small smile.

“Yes, mon petit ?”

“Are...are you mad at me...?”

It shocked the man. Why would his Son think that ?

“Why would you think that, Son ? No, I’m not mad at you. Why would I be ? You should be mad at me, for letting this happen to you, in the first place.”

M/n gave him a soft smile.

“You couldn’t have known. I never blamed you in the first place. I should have told you the juice tasted off as soon as I tasted it...”, the boy said, fumbling with his fingers.

“It’s alright, Cher. Now we need to focus on getting you back to health. A lot of chicken soup, vitamin juices and herbal teas will do the trick in no time.”

M/n gave his Father a smile. It was weak, but he tried and Alastor appreciated the effort. He ran his hand through his Son’s hair with a soft smile.

“Now get some more rest. I will wake you up, when the food is done cooking. Deal ?”

M/n gave the adult a big smile.

“Deal. Don’t hurt yourself on accident, Papa. I love you.”

Alastor’s smile became brighter. His Son really cared about him.

“I’ll be careful, Cher. I love you too. Now get some rest.”

With that Alastor left the room and went into the kitchen. He left M/n’s bedroom door ajar, in case M/n needed something. Then he got, quickly, to cooking his Mother’s infamous chicken soup.

As the soup was done, Alastor prepared two bowls with it and then carried them up the stairs. He almost dropped the bowls, as he saw his Son standing on badly shaking legs. He rushed to M/n’s desk, put the two bowls down and then returned to his child’s side, quickly.

“What were you thinking ? Mon petit, you are far too weakened to move on your own.”, Alastor scolded softly.

“S-sorry, Papa. I just wanted to go to the Bathroom and I didn’t want to bother you. I thought I will be able to make it alone...”, M/n replied softly.

The Radio Host sighed softly. He forgot that M/n was very selfless and never wants to bother him with small things the boy can deal with alone. He lend the small boy his arm, which the child took as support.

“Now then, let’s get you to the Bathroom, Cher.”

“O-okay, Papa.”

With Alastor’s help, M/n was guided to the Bathroom, that was connected with his Bedroom. He let the boy support himself from the sink to the toilet, then he closed the door.

“Tell me when you are done, Cher. Then we can eat.”

“I will, Papa. Thank you.”

“No problem, mon petit.”

Alastor waited at the door. He heard his Son flush the toilet and not long later the water running in the sink. He washed his hands then.

“I’m done, Dad.”, M/n said softly as the water was off again.

Alastor opened the door and then reached out his arm again. M/n grabbed it tightly and then he was led back to bed. The Father helped to cover the boy in his blankets again and then he went to fetch the bowls. M/n sat up comfortably, while Alastor sat next to him, on his bed, to the right side.

“Bon apetit, Cher.”, the man said.

“Bon apetit, Papa.”, the boy repeated.

Together they dug into their soup and the boy hummed, loving the taste.

“This tastes awesome, Dad ! How did you make it ?”, M/n asked in wonder, eating another spoonful after he asked.

Alastor chuckled lightly, a fond smile on his face.

“My Mother made a recipe for a good chicken soup. Sadly...it doesn’t taste as good as when she made it. I...always seem to miss something to add into it.”

M/n looked at his Father. He rarely heard about his Grandma.

“How was Grandma ? What was she like ?”, the boy asked.

Alastor looked at him, contemplating if the boy was ready to hear of her. He shook his head.

“Another time, Cher.”

“Dad, come on ! You told me a bit about her already. Why not more ? You clearly loved her a lot ! Was she really THAT bad ?”, M/n asked.

His head whipped around quickly, to look at his Son.

“She was NOT bad !”, Alastor yelled, slightly angered.

The boy flinched, but didn’t back down.

“Then why do you not want to share with me anything about her ?! I am YOUR SON, Dad ! She would be basically my Grandma !”

Alastor looked away after a while of seeing his Son frustrated with his closed off behavior.

“It...is hard to talk about her with others, Cher. I don’t tell everyone how my Family used to be.”, Alastor replied.

“I understand that, Papa. I really do, but I am Family too, aren’t I ? I am your child. Do I not deserve to know how my Grandparents used to be ? I already missed the opportunity to meet them in person. I can only hope for stories from you now.”

His Son had a point and the Radio Host knew that. He sighed and had a soft smile on his face. He knew it might fade soon, but...M/n was Family. He can let his charade drop around him.

“My Mother...Your Mummo (Grandma), was a very kind and caring soul. She loved to cook, she always knew how to cheer me up and she taught me everything I know, to be a Gentleman.”

M/n just looked at him, as his Father opened up about his Mother, eating his soup slowly. VERY slowly.

“She never had much problems with what I did. There were simple, loose rules in the house. Don’t curse, don’t yell in the house, arms off of the table when you eat, sit straight, respect your elders, no running in the house, don’t lie to Momma and no pets. I always kept to the rules, my Mom put up. I never yelled at her, I never hurt her on purpose and I always listened.”

M/n grew concerned. It seemed like his Father was out of the picture...

“What about your...Father ?”

Alastor tensed, but sighed and tried to relax.

“You are too young to hear everything about that man yet, but...he was NOT a good man, mon petit.”

At that M/n grew worried.

“What...what did he do to you two ?”, he asked worried.

Alastor looked at his Son, smile gone and a certain darkness in his eyes, dancing around like a wild fire.

“Whenever he came home...he usually had bad, stressful days and couldn’t get drunk and cheat on my Mother.”

‘So a drinking, cheating Bastard...’

“When he came home in such moods...there were more rules.”

“Like ?”

“Do not speak unless spoken to, you eat what was on the table, do not engage with him unless he starts to engage with you, you are not allowed to leave the table until he said you can or left himself first, you are not allowed to give him any attitude either and you are not allowed to say no to him. He wants you to get him a beer, you will get it, otherwise...”, Alastor cut himself off.

M/n stared at his Father in horror.

“You are NOT telling me that he was abusive, are you ?”

Alastor looked into his soup, head hanging low.

“That is exactly what I am telling you, Cher.”, he weakly replied.

‘Holy shit... we actually have something in common, just that he had a loving Mom by his side and I only had my Sister.’

The Radio Host took a deep breath. M/n gave him his full attention.

“He wanted me to act like him. Abusive, towards women and lesser people. He said if someone comes at me with attitude, I give it back to them, while my Mother said that is NOT how I should behave. When my Father was out of the house, my Mother taught me how to be a Gentleman. When he noticed what she was doing, that she taught me everything I needed to know and do one day, for myself, he forced me into other activities with him. I made a small mistake...well, I think you can guess the outcome.”, Alastor told him dully.

M/n stared at him, mouth agape. He always thought that at least his Family was great, when he was a child.

“YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BEG YOUR OWN PARENTS TO NOT STOP BEING YOUR PARENTS ! YOU WEREN’T BLAMED FOR YOUR SISTER’S DEATH ! YOU WEREN’T BEATEN AND ABUSED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO HAVE A FEELING TO ALWAYS TRY TO BE GOOD ENOUGH FOR THEM SO THEY WILL ACCEPT YOU ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SLEEP OUTSIDE AND STARVE ! YOU WEREN’T ABANDONED BY YOUR OWN PARENTS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO SEE YOUR OWN SISTER’S CONDITIONS WHEN SHE CAME HOME WOUNDED BADLY AND YOU HAD TO TAKE CARE OF HER AND LISTEN TO HER TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED ! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HOW THEY BEAT YOUR SISTER IN SCHOOL AND NO ONE CARED! YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SEE HER GETTING TAKEN BY SOME PERVERTED FREAKS ! YOU DIDN’T HAD TO FIND HER LIKE THIS THE NEXT DAY AND FIND OUT THAT THESE SICK FUCKS ARE STILL OUT THERE ! I DID ! I HAD TO ! WHILE NO ONE ELSE NEEDED TO BE PERFECT FOR THEIR PARENTS, I HAD TO BE THAT AND SO MUCH MORE !”

M/n looked down in shame as he remembered that day. He judged his Father way too quickly. Just because he seemed happy all the time, didn’t that mean that he really was. His childhood wasn’t rainbows and sunshine either.

He might not have been forced to beg both parents to not stop loving him, but he had to practically endure his Father’s torture. He didn’t have to see a sibling getting hurt all the time, but he probably was forced to see his Mother getting hurt a lot. He was beaten and bruised as a child, just as his Mother was probably. The worst was...it happened at home, a place you were supposed to be safest. His Mother might have confided in him and he probably saw her crumbling a lot. Just as M/n had to see Linda crumble apart all the time and it was up to him, to get her back up. Alastor and M/n had something in common. Shit parents. At least...shit Fathers, in Alastor’s case.

The boy put the empty bowl on the nightstand and then hugged his Father tightly, who took a deep inhale.

“I’m sorry I asked. But, if it helps, he is gone now. No more pain and torture.”, the child said softly.

Alastor chuckled weakly and put his hand on top of M/n’s smaller ones, that were on his stomach, wrapped around.

“Yes, he is gone now. Anyways !”

And the switch flipped again. M/n found it amusing nowadays. Alastor can change the mood so quickly...

“My Mother she cooked the best foods ever ! Jambalaya was one of the best ! I always helped her in the kitchen and cooked with her, when I could ! She was such a loving person, you would have LOVED her ! There were a few times she scolded me, but it wasn’t often. Without her...I would never be the person I am today, mon petit.”

M/n smiled at that and hugged his Father tighter, while Alastor finally ate the rest of his own soup. After he made sure that they both were full, he collected the bowls and brought them into the kitchen. He entered his Son’s room again, with a bright smile on his face.

“Now, you better take a nap, Cher. The more you sleep and drink, the faster you will be better !”, the Father said happily.

“Papa ?”, M/n called softly.

Alastor stopped dead in his tracks, as he was about to leave. He turned back around, looking at the boy.

“Yes, mon petit ?”

“Can you...tell me a Story to fall asleep to ? I don’t care which.”

Alastor put his finger on his chin, pretending to think about it.

“Hmmm....Oh, alright then. But only one.”, the adult replied.

M/n smiled and nodded. Only one.

Alastor sat down next to his Son, on his bed, and started to tell the story about the wolf and the seven little goats.

As he finished, his Son was fast asleep and Alastor left, smiling softly. It felt good to confide in his child about his past. He thought it would feel...bad. Like a forbidden thing to do. Maybe...he will take M/n to his Mother’s grave soon. He deserved that kind of closure. But for now...Alastor has to help his child back on his little feet.

He will kill whoever poisoned his Son, as soon as he finds them.

Over the days, M/n quickly regained his strength. But while he was sick, he gave Alastor a hard time keeping up. At some nights, M/n woke up and needed the Bathroom. The Radio Host was a light sleeper, so imagine his fright when he jumped out of sleep, due to a loud thump, coming from his Son’s room, only to find him hissing in pain on the floor.

He quickly noticed that his Son hated to bother him with such small things. He wanted to move on his own and didn’t want his Father to feel forced to care for M/n, like he was a newborn fawn, that still needs to learn how to walk.

Most food M/n consumed, but some of the dishes, Alastor cooked, made M/n feel sick, so the adult was mindful of what he cooked. It wasn’t his Son’s fault, that his body recovered like that. He will be back to normal soon enough, was all they both always thought. And in less than a week, he was completely fine again.

Alastor had to scold him a lot for trying to walk on his own, after he continuously fell on his face anyways, but otherwise, M/n didn’t put up much of a fight.

What the man didn’t know, was that M/n knew who poisoned him and he was giving that person a lesson to learn from one day.

The audacity of that bitch...

Masterlist HERE !

[cher-rei]

afterglow pt- 14 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff, slowish burn

[wc: 4.8k] masterlist

notes: time to meet the in-laws heheeh

previous next

the sound of his parents chatting in the kitchen caught trent's attention. he didn't expect them to still be at home seeing as it was a saturday. they were often out together, shopping or just taking a drive to a museum just to get some fresh air.

and judging by their expressions when they saw their son come downstairs fully dressed as if he had somewhere to be, they thought the same. diane set down her coffee on the table and nudged her husband as well.

trent stood frozen for a moment, unsure of the reason for their looks of shock. "what's wrong?" he asked, checking himself to see if it was an issue with his outfit.

michael, his father, stifled a laugh and turned his attention back to his breakfast which left the stare off to diane who had the faintest idea of what the occasion was. it's been like this for weeks now, the same routine of trent coming home late or leaving early in the morning.

sure he was a grown man, but diane knew her son and it was out of character. "do you mind me asking where you're off to?"

trent shrugged his shoulders, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "jamie has some errands to run today, so I'm tagging along."

the familiar name made diane smile. she craned her neck to get a better look at trent who had just blatantly lied to her. he could of just said that you were going on a date, there was really no reason to hide it and he knew that.

it's just that you weren't official yet so he didn't know whether to properly call it a date, or mention to his family that you were possibly the best thing that's ever happened to him. during supper he always had to refrain from gushing over something that you said, or making it obvious that he had feelings for you.

he was merely being careful and didn't want to give himself and his family false hope. was it eating him up on the inside? definitely. but he kept it up, and tried to mellow his emotions until you were ready.

"you know what's funny?" diane said, causing trent to shake his head. "I keep on hearing about jamie but--" she looked around the kitchen and made a gesture to the empty space. "--I never see her."

trent couldn't hold back his groan, his frustration mixing with the sound of his father's amused laughter. "mum, there's no reason for you to see her." he said honestly, a hint of apprehension slipping through his tone.

diane pulled a face. "since when am I not allowed to see your girlfriend?"

trent's heart dropped, his immediate reaction being to cover his face in embarrassment. "she's not my girlfriend, how many times--"

"oh wow." she threw her hands into the air with an exasperated laugh. "it's dua lipa all over again."

the mention of the pop star sent trent into a spiral, his words lodged into the back of his throat while his mother complained to her husband who was trying his best to stay neutral.

"remember dua lipa, michael?" she hit his arm. "we had to find out about her through an article."

"we've been over this, I've never even met dua lipa." he leant against one of the cabinets and rubbed his temples to calm himself down.

it was a few years ago when the rumour began to spread out of nowhere. a few of them said that he was dating the singer, but the vast majority were convinced that he rejected her. where they got that information from? he had no idea.

"so is she better than dua lipa?" michael spoke up, a ghost of a smile hiding behind his coffee mug. he loved to tease his son like this, usually he was the neutral party but not today.

a few muttered words left trent's mouth, incoherent as he tried to figure out what to say. his frustration was on the brink of boiling over and it was evident in the blush on his cheeks. he felt cornered, trapped even though he could just leave. but he didn't.

maybe this is what he needed. enough pressure to finally make the girl he'd been head over heels to light. "I mean she's..." he awkwardly scratched the nape of his neck. "she's nice."

diane's eyebrow quirked. "nice? that's something you say about a dessert, not your girlfriend."

this prompted trent to roll his eyes, not being able to find the words that were resting on the tip of his tongue. "she's a lot of things, okay? a lot of good things."

"oh," it was his fathers turn to lean closer. "so she is your girlfriend?"

"what? no I--"

"yes, you did."

"why don't you invite her over for lunch tomorrow?"

so many things. so many things were being at the same time and it felt as if his head was about to explode. here he was— a grown man being interrogated about his love life. it was all too much and be was beginning to feel overwhelmed.

bring you over for lunch?? with his entire family being here?? INCLUDING HIS BROTHERS?? what were they thinking?

the last thing that he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable or rushed and as much as a small part of his softened at the thought of you meeting his family, his logic knew what was right.

so before he burst into tears in front of his parents he covered his ears and darted out the front door straight to his car. he was sure that they were still calling out for him but he needed to be gone. away from all that apprehension.

"are you sure that it's okay for us to be going out in public like this?"

that question had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since he picked you up, and now that you were nearly at the café it only worsened. ever since the efl final, you've felt a little more cautious about your presence— not just with trent but with the team in general.

your question made trent frown. "I mean it's bound to happen eventually." he watched from the corner of your eye and you fiddled with the clip of your hand bag, a soft "uh huh" leaving your lips.

"are you okay?" his hands caught yours for a gentle squeeze which only managed to supply half of the reassurance you needed. "you've been awfully quiet lately."

your pulse quickened at his observation and managed to bring a small but noticeable smile to your lips. "yeah it's just--" you let out a heavy sigh. "--you know how people are and I don't want this to cause a scene."

almost as if it were planned, trent parked the car not too far from the café, and immediately unbuckled his seatbelt to face you properly. he searched your uneasy expression for answers while you shuffled in your seat, your cheeks growing warm.

"jamie," he said softly, gaining your attention. "is this about the interview last week?"

your expression depicted an ease you didn't necessarily feel, uncomfortable with his ability to figure you out so well. you could have lied and said no, but trent's gaze was intense in a way that you couldn't bring yourself to hide anything.

your composure was under attack, so you simply nodded. trent's expression grew still and serious, not having thought that the post match interview a week ago would've gotten to you, and neither did you.

you were headstrong, the type to not let the words of others cut deep enough to fracture your demeanor but this gnawed at your confidence.

it happened for the past few days, where you'd find your thoughts trialling back to that evening as you stood in the press room not too far from the back as jurgen and virgil were interviewed respectively. it was going as per normal until your name slipped from jurgen's mouth.

you weren't paying much attention until then.

"she was rather rowdy today from the bench," the reporter prompted and your shoulders tensed, not catching the way that jurgen's brows drew together in an angry frown but the reporter continued. "this happens often. what is it like having her around during matches? she's not a part of the team so does it cause any issues?"

issues? was there a line that you crossed?

jurgen was quick with his answer but the hint of anger in his tone was clear despite his chuckle. "jamie likes to be part of the action, she's always standing on the touchline with me and asking questions. she's very passionate about the sport and it's nice to see that she cares."

the reporter opened his mouth again to further his question but jurgen cut him off, his gaze intense which contraindicated the smile he adorned. "If I had the choice I'd say she should take after me when I resign."

that wasn't even the worst, the entire press conference you felt targeted as if everyone was watching you with more criticism than usual. you were used to the attention but this was suffocating— and it had gotten to you unfortunately.

trent's gaze softened, cupping your chin. "you did nothing wrong. they were just prying for something and didn't get what they wanted."

"they said I'm too intense." you stiffened with a heavy sigh mimicking the weight on your chest. "I think that I need to take a few steps back, trent."

"well you're thinking wrong," he said, his voice raising a bit at your absurd idea. "we love you when you're screaming on the touchline, we love you when you're dragging us to do stupid tiktoks for the supporters, and we sure as hell love you when you give us the energy we need."

you bit your lip to stifle a grin, letting trent's lecture settle in the air for a moment. "you think my tiktoks are stupid?"

an easy smile played at the corners of his mouth and he leant forward, his lips grazing yours as he spoke. "very."

the feeling of trent's lips gently melting into yours lifted an immense weight from your shoulders. the sensation sent your thoughts spinning, any doubts vanishing almost immediately until you pulled away, breathless.

when the two of you finally entered the café— the whole reason for this entire trip, you were pleasantly surprised to see that there were fewer people than you expected. trent casually took the liberty of ordering, happy to know that you trusted him enough to know what you liked.

you picked out a spot at the back of the café, a few tables away from the window so you weren't spotted too easily. just in case. as you settled, trent couldn't help but notice the way that the soft light from the window and how it danced on your features.

he smiled. feeling grateful for the moment of peace despite what happened in the car. he knew better than anyone than this being a dangerous idea, that no matter how well known that you were, it was only bound to ruin your image if certain people saw you together.

trent has had his fair share of crazy or delusional fans that took it a step too far on more than one occasion, and it was one of the main reasons that he kept his social life as private as possible. but not with you. it was impossible in every way.

but that didn't mean that he was going to back off.

his attention was drawn back to you began uncontrollably giggling from the seat opposite him.

"what's so funny?" he asked, trying to peak over at your screen.

you teasingly held the phone out of his reach, a playful smile etched on your lips with the twinkle in your eyes. "just sofía. pablo walked in on her changing."

trent raised an eyebrow. "they're still living together? I thought that they would've killed each other by now," he joked and you nodded your head.

"alex says that they're bound to crack under pressure any day now."

your comment had trent fighting back his laughter, mostly agreeing with the statement seeing as their personalities classed and complimented each other's in the best way possible. he didn't know much about them, but with the stories that you've told him, they needed to get a room.

when your desserts arrived your eyes lit up immediately and almost instinctively your hand reached for your phone and opened the camera. trent was just about to taint his cake when you slapped his hand away.

his eyes widened at the harsh act, looking to you with his lips parted. "what did I do?"

you rolled your eyes and continued to take pictures of the food, making sure to get every angle possible. "it's like you've never had a girlfriend before," you muttered in slight irritation.

trent on the other hand couldn't let the comment slip by, his lips tugging up into a smile. "oh? so you're my girlfriend now?"

your body tensed immediately, unable to look him in the eye as he held your flustered state under his playful gaze. the heat rushed to your cheeks quicker than you expected and to save yourself the embarrassment you remained silent to prevent stuttering.

it hadn't even been a month yet but you were definitely ready to jump into whatever he wanted. you couldn't bring yourself to say it though and decided to wait until he brought it up. which was now apparently.

after a bit of forced laughter, you scoffed. "nobody said that I wanted to cancel my trial. yet. you haven't done anything to chase me away yet either, so at least there's hope."

he rolled his eyes at your quip and watched as you continued to eat your cake, your mouth moving as you talked to him but nothing registered. instead his mother's voice sounded through his mind.

it was now or never.

"would meeting my parents be enough to chase you away?"

spamjam._.

liked by trentarnold66, sophiaamelia and 3 292 125 others

spamjam._. girlfriend core ☕️💍

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user my girlfriend core

→ user watch sofía spawn out of nowhere just to tell you stay in your lane 😭

→ fía.messi stay in your lane.

→ user I'm howling 🤣😭🤣😭🤣😭

trentarnold66 free trial coming to an end core 💍

→ spamjam._. stfu 😃

sophiaamelia if gorgeous was a person 🎀

→ spamjam._. have you seen yourself??

saffiekhan we were supposed to go to that café together!! you absolute traitor 😃

→ spamjam._. well I'm sorry that you had a date with your BOYFRIEND

→ saffiekhan this isn't about him!

→ curtisjr I don't even know why I try at this point tbh 👎🏼

"no way you got my mum flowers," trent said in awe when you got into the car, the vibrant colours of the assorted bouquet set on your lap.

you buckled your seatbelt and gave him a knowing look at the absurd remark. "of course I did. what do you take me for? an animal?"

the footballer didn't bother responding to the question and scoffed, leaning forward to kiss your cheek before heading back to his house, where his family were gathered for sunday lunch as usual.

at the café yesterday, he wasn't sure what overcame him when he asked you to join them as his mother suggested, but something swelled in his heart when you happily agreed. there was a glint of excitement and disbelief in your eyes that he couldn't help but reprocicate.

and even if you were anxious (which you definitely were) you hid it well enough for trent to feel at ease too. the two of you shared one last look of reassurance before getting out of the car and leaping head-first into something that would either be a mistake or just what you both needed.

you felt his hand slip into yours and give it a light squeeze to ease your nerves, finally opening his front door. you were familiar with his house, just not when there were other people besides the two of you inside.

a wave of nausea washed over you when you stepped into the foyer, trent's hand not letting go of yours even when his mother caught you both before you could walk any further.

the woman adorned a gleaming smile at the sight of you st her son's side, even better that he was holding onto you for dear life. "hello, jamie sweetheart," she greeted with her arms out for a hug. "it's so good to see you again."

you let go of trent's hand and gave into her embrace with an even bigger smile knowing that she was actually happy to see you. "hi, diane. it's good to see you too."

from a few steps back, trent watched with lovestruck eyes and his heart pounding in his chest at the exchange between the two of you. the look on his mother's face was so familiar— the same glint of comfort and adoration she had for him and the rest of his family.

he watched as you handed her the bouquet with diane nearly bursting into tears at the kind gesture. trent couldn't tell if he was overwhelmed or simply in love, ready to get down on knee right then and there. but it was only when the two of you walked further into the house and he was left behind in the foyer that his mother's greeting registered in his mind.

it's so good to see you again.

he didn't have time to ponder on it however and made a beeline for the living room where the rest of his family were. tyler and marcel were standing in front of the television, playfully arguing about something that didn't matter. his father was sitting on the sofa beside tyler's girlfriend olivia who had her daughter resting on her lap.

it was nothing out of the ordinary but trent couldn't find the words lodged in his throat, only managing to watch you greet the rest of his family members who were more than delighted to meet you.

you were familiar with tyler and marcel after having run into them a few times at matches, but this was your first time meeting olivia. the happily handed her daughter over to her father-in-law to stand up and properly greet you with a hug, complimenting your outfit before you could compliment hers.

"and this angel must be aura," you cooed and bent down slightly to tickle her stomach earning a slight giggle from the infant. "there's not a second that goes by where your uncle isn't talking about you and I can see why."

you look up at olivia with a smile. "I love her name. it's gorgeous."

she waved her hand in front of her face at the compliment again. "thank you. it's been in my notes app since I was in year 10."

your lips parted at the familiar answer and you immediately reached for your phone. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours..."

"shut up, deal. tyler watch aura, jamie and I are heading to the kitchen to help with lunch," olivia said hurriedly took you by the hand and led you to the kitchen without further discussion.

you didn't even spare trent a final look before you were swept away, the comfort finally setting in around the family. trent was still stood silent in the archway of the living room, watching as your figure disappeared further into the house as your laughter rung through the air along with olivia's.

"ew, he's in love," tyler commented with a face of disgust, completely disregarding the fact that he had a girlfriend and a daughter.

the afternoon progressed smoothly with you and olivia helping diane in the kitchen (you spent a good 40 minutes talking about absolute nonsense). it got to the point where you forgot that trent was somewhere in the living room.

"you've never been?"

olivia shook her head at your question and sighed. "I haven't had the time. aura is literally all I see 24/7."

a small frown took place on your lips. "leave her with tyler for a few hours. I'll tell you when I'm free and we can try it out. I'll make it my mission that you see the light of day again."

the rest of the afternoon was filled with laughter and getting to know each other. your main fear was that you were going to be interrogated about every single part of your life, but it was nothing like that. instead, the questions were out of genuine intrigue.

"have you always wanted to venture into sports marketing?" michael asked, from one end of the dinner table and you eagerly nodded.

"I wanted to work in the industry one way or another," you said with a genuine smile. "I wasn't too keen on journalism, so when I started gaining a following online I thought that I might as well put it to good use."

michael hummed in acknowledgement and looked at trent with a smile from beside you. "well if you hadn't then I'm sure you wouldn't be sitting here right now."

diane laughed at her husband's comment, taking notice of the blush on her son's face as his brothers teased him. the entire afternoon she couldn't help but watch in awe at how he acted around you.

it made her heart ease knowing that he acted comfortably around you, how he could joke and tease you with you doing it back with just as much playfulness. even at the dinner table, when you spoke he couldn't keep his eyes off you and listened attentively.

a blush rose to your cheeks at marcel's question about when you started to develop feelings for his brother. trent shot him a glare from across the table but you waved him off, giving him a moment to think even though you knew exactly when it was.

you leant back in your seat casually and nudged trent's arm. "he kicked me with a ball during training. it hit my arm and there was this huge bruise for two weeks."

"trent john alexander-arnold!" diane gawked in shock, turning to him with a disappointed look, causing him to raise his hands in defence. "how could you do that??"

"it wasn't on purpose!" he defended and looked at you beside him, the smile etched on your phase because you knew exactly what you were doing. "jamie, you said it didn't even hurt."

you shrugged your shoulders. "I didn't want to make you feel bad. you were already bummed over the injury."

tyler laughed at the memory of his brother's hamstrings injury last year. "I remember that. he was so depressed, ugh take me back. life was so good back then."

"tyler don't say that, you know how upset it makes him," olivia scolded her boyfriend, slapping him on the arm but he had no regrets and let the comment stand.

trent sent her a grateful look, but you couldn't help but laugh. "you think that was bad?" a laugh escaped your lips. "you should've seen how he waddled down the stairs at the training center."

the rest of the dinner table burst into laughter, except for trent of course who was covering his face in embarrassment. not sure of who's side you were on in this case. and it only got worse when you showed them the video of you and dominik shutting the elevator door before be could make it in.

the cheeky laughter of both you and his best friend brought back the memory, the video perfectly showing just how pathetic he was when trying to catch up, but obvious didn't make it.

it was a bit before 5 p.m and aura had just woken up from her nap when you all gathered in the living room. the saudi arabian grand prix played as a form of entertainment as you sat with trent's head resting on your shoulder while aura sat on your lap, occupying herself with the rings on your fingers.

"oh, come on these mercedes drivers are going to be the death of me," michael said in frustration, gradually bringing the conversation around to the mechanics of the car and how the season hadn't been too good so far.

you were fairly quiet for bit, watching the rave with immense concentration until you were pleasantly surprised. "oh my gosh!" your excitement made both aura and trent jump up, but you were too busy taking pictures of alex on the screen to bother.

"sorry, you know how I get when I see alex show up at races," you apologised and trwnt shook his head, resting it back onto your shoulder.

"you talk to her every waking moment of the day, you're insane," he said, still not understanding how you could get so giddy just by seeing her on screen.

olivia looked at you with her eyes widened. "you know her?"

you nodded with a proud smile. "she's one of my best friends. just haven't seen her in a while."

"oh, so you're famous famous," marcel added. "how did trent even manage to catch your eye??"

after the race, you found yourself helping diane with the dishes. well that was until trent decided to interrupt the moment to which his mother happily leave you two be, a fond smile on her face as she left the kitchen.

the two of you didn't exchange any words for a few minutes and instead packed away the dishes in silence, your bodies moving in a familiar motion that happened quite often at your own home when he helped you with cleaning.

you took a moment to breathe, leaning back on the counter as trent finished up the last of the utensils. a fond smile formed on your face for some reason but you didn't fight it and kept your attention on him even when be caught on.

he quirked a brow in confusion. "why are you looking at me like that?" he took a few steps towards you.

"looking at you like what?" you teased and he eventually stopped in front of you, casually draping his hands around your waist as if there was any sort of privacy.

you didn't fight it though.

the footballer rolled his eyes jokingly, unable to believe that you still had the energy to joke with him after outing him multiple times today. he was sure that at some point his face was unable to remain any other colour besides red with the way that he was blushing.

"you know what?"

your question raised even more confusion but he nodded slightly, allowing you to carry on with whatever you wanted to say.

"I think it's time to clear up the fog," you said and took a deep breath. "I like the way that we work."

trent's lips parted and he went immobile for nearly a minute. the words that came from his lips made no sense, to the point where you had to pinch him. suddenly he let go of you and walked to the other end of the room, purpose in his stride as he shut the kitchen door and locked it.

oh, shit.

he was frantic with his movements and you were struggling to keep up until he took your hands into his and gave you a look. "are you sure?"

"100%." you retorted with so much confidence, making trent's smile widen in excitement, the twinkle in his eyes nearly losing you.

"jamie," he started softly, gaining your attention. "would you like to--"

he didn't even get to finish his sentence before your lips were on his, ever so thankful that he locked the door so that you could cherish the moment properly.

your body melted under his touch, the feeling of his lips tugging into a smile having your heart pounding harder than it ever had before. all those months of uncertainty led up to this moment— late-night drives, weeks without talking to each other, advice from your friends. everything led up to this feeling of bliss and relief.

when you pulled away you were both breathless, with childlike smiles and laughter sounding through the room that you felt your tension drip away in.

spamjam._.

liked by landonorris, fía.messi and 2 224 937 others

spamjam._. spot my girlfriend 🤭

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landonorris help. HELP ME (you look good but please answer my messages)

→ spamjam._. security!!!

trentarnold66 spot my girlfriend

→ fía.messi bro stfu that's my line. get a life or something! [liked by spamjam._.]

user @trentarnold66 UHM WHAT DID HE SAY??? HE'S KIDDING RIG&/??

→ user I THREW UP

→ trentarnold66 I was talking about the car 😭

→ user oh... OH

→ user he's just a man fr 😔

alexandrasaintmleux I was smiling at the camera because I knew you were watching ml xx [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. I love you ❤️

charles_leclerc please stop stealing my girlfriend 🙏🏻 [liked by spamjam._.]

[hyunverse]

quaint town ‧₊˚✩彡 ot8 stray kids as townspeople

ot8 (separately) x reader. about — headcanons on what their roles would be in a small town! contains — headcanons, fluff. wc — 2443 words. note — thought of this while listening to some songs. lmk if you guys want a whole oneshot based on any of this ^__^ disclaimer — © 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

BANG CHAN. . . would be the town mayor's son! his father owns the biggest construction and property development company in the town, and he's set to be the next ceo. the bang family practically owns 80% of the town, most of the buildings owned by them. despite being loaded, and residing in the biggest, most beautiful bungalow in the center of the town — chan's the definition of down to earth. you will never catch him lacking. he's cheerful and nice to everyone, greeting the townspeople every time he's strolling in the town square. he's ever-so polite and handsome too; making him the most eligible bachelor in town. everybody's mother wants him as their son in law. his family members were the first ones to greet your family when you moved to town, generously bringing casserole as a welcome gift.

often times, you'd bump into chan as he helps his father work. he'd have a construction gear on, hair sticking against his skin whilst listening to his father's lectures obediently. truly a worthy heir to have. he'd discreetly wave at you when you walk pass, holding in laughters as you pull a stupid face at him. chan genuinely cares for the townspeople as well — frequently listens to complains to pass to his father. the cool playground at the town square was one of chan's brilliant pitches — claimed that a slide and a pathetic excuse of a sand box isn't sufficient for the children's happiness.

chan didn't only pitch the idea of a bigger playground — even helped to build it. since then, you often go to the playground to play on the swings, with the hopes of bumping into him and engaging in a lengthy conversation. what you're unaware of is that he does the exact same thing too, desperate for your attention.

LEE KNOW. . . is your beloved town's dance teacher! he owns the only dance studio in town, medium-sized and beautiful. he doesn't charge ridiculous fees, even offers free ballet classes for kids on saturdays. the fact that he even allows people to walk in and just watch his lessons show that he genuinely loves what he does, and doesn't solely do it for the profit.

people love him because of his gentle personality, despite coming off as cold on the exterior. ensures to reassure his students as he teaches, saying words like, "you're doing great!" "amazing energy, kiddo!" minho sometimes brings his cats; soonie, doongie and dori to his studio and allows the kids to (gently) play with them as reward. during times when he's short-staffed, he'd ask (force) for hyunjin to help teach in his classes. he's also known for being incredibly handsome — to the point where women would fall at his feet, and the men in town envy him for his looks. some people, typically girls your age would enroll in his classes just to gawk at him in awe. he realizes this, thus asks for another instructor to teach those classes instead.

unless there's you, of course. on days when you'd drop by to observe him at work out of boredom, he'd suddenly switch his aura — becoming all welcoming and extra friendly towards you. the kids in his class would tease him about fancying you, which he would shush them over. on days when he's out of work, you'd run into him at the grocery store, a basket in hand. you find yourself staring at these times. him in a simple black tee, hugging his chest, and the veins in his arms showing. a total heartthrob, truly.

SEO CHANGBIN. . . is a gymbro through and through. the town's most fit person! jogs in a tight, fitted shirt and joggers every single morning, a cap atop his head. the grandparents would jokingly whistle as he jogs by — which he loves. would even show off a little by flexing his biceps, earning laughters from the town's crochet club.

if chan is the mothers' favourite guy, changbin would be the grandparents' favourite. he's just so sweet, waving hello to people as he goes on his morning jogs. sometimes, he'd even buy coffee for the grandparents hanging out at the town square. remembers their orders by heart. because of this, they'd request for him to lead the zumba sessions your town has every sunday morning. the request gets him shy, but after the persuasion of the grandparents, and minho offering to choreograph, he gave in. it's endearing to walk by the town square on sunday mornings to see the atmosphere being filled with giggles and typical zumba music, the townspeople all gushing over changbin.

your first conversation with changbin would be one day when he's out for his usual coffee run before his jog session. you left your wallet at home by accident, and he offered to pay for your drink. after you insisted to pay him back somehow, he suggested for you to accompany him during his jog that morning. even promised to opt for brisk walking instead! since then, you grew a liking towards him and would often accompany him. in just a short while, you two became the town's hot topic! the oldies' favourite guy, and the sweetest person in town spending a suspicious amount of time together? it's safe to say that since then, the two of you are invited to the crochet club's sessions a lot.

HWANG HYUNJIN. . . is the mystery craftsman. well, he's not entirely mysterious — he engages in conversations with the townspeople quite a lot, though you could tell that he picks and chooses the information he'll reveal.

he's fun to talk to, quite the dramatic — although the only things people actually know about him would be that 1. he lives in an art studio located in a shop lot building owned by bang construction. 2. his hands are typically stained with paint. 3. he's a very artsy person. 4. he's the go-to man for organizing events. would happily help out with painting or things of sorts.

every time there's an event in your quaint town (which is multiple times a month), the town mayor would ask hyunjin to help out with the decorations. he's the one who'd hand make the banners, draw the posters, paint the fences, the gazebos — anything that requires arsty crafting skills. the murals decorating the town would be from hyunjin's golden hands — your personal favourite being one of two people holding hands while watching fireworks, painted on a wall of an alleyway beside the kim family's cafe. (the two people actually being the two of you.)

aside from helping out at events and painting murals, the townspeople would go to hyunjin to order a custom painting or sketch. everyone loves hyunjin's art, and he appreciates that. he knows a thing or two about book-binding, too — a skill his grandfather had passed down to him. if you go to his studio, you'll find notebooks which were hand binded by him.

on occasions when minho is short-staffed at the dance studio, he's there to help. not voluntarily, usually — he'll be there if minho had succesfully bribed him or threatened to stuff tissues in his mouth. during these occasions, even more people would crowd the studio. who doesn't want to see two heartthrobs dancing?

out of everyone in town, he trusts you the most, considering you're his partner. you're always lounging around in his studio, and you're the only person who knows about the fact that he's always out of town since he participates in art exhibitions a lot. that's where he gets money to upkeep his studio in your quaint town. the two of you are the town's most darling couple — he helps with crafts, and you help with the activities.

HAN JISUNG. . . is a worker at the local comic book store! chirpy and funny, it's a job that suits him the most. the "comic mania store" is always filled with jisung's fun energy. he could engage with his customers for hours, giving endless recommendations.

what's your favourite genre? shonen, shojo — you name it, jisung would have a recommendation for any genre. he has a soft spot for the one piece series and. . . he doesn't tell much people this but. . . fruits basket and sailor moon are quite up there in his list. he's so passionate, it's endearing to witness. there are multiple arcade games in the store, and he's the holder of the high scores on each one. would teach the people visiting the store how to play the games too.

comic books isn't jisung's only passion.

behind the cash register, he could sometimes be seen jotting things down in a notebook. song lyrics. when the store is empty, and it's nearing dawn, jisung would hum to songs he wrote as he closes up the store. you earned the privilege of closely knowing him when you caught him humming alone one time, not shy to compliment him on his voice and ask what song it is. he'd sheepishly admitted that it's an original song. from there, you bonded a friendship with him — which then turned into something more. his notebook pages went from general lyrics about life to specific lyrics about you.

due to his energetic nature, the book store at the outskirts of town sometimes invite him to read storybooks for children when there's a new release. he's talented at keeping the children focused and entranced — faking voices and accents to keep things entertaining.

LEE FELIX. . . the sweet baker who just moved in! freckled and handsome, the people's first impression of him would be that he's absolutely adorable. one week after moving in, it is revealed that he moved to open his own bakery right beside minho's dance studio! strategic location, truly — because now the kids in minho's classes can simply buy some bakery goods from felix's bakery after class.

gives out free testers of his daily specials everyday. after popular demand, felix would occasionally organize baking classes for both adults and kids. for free too — he just wants to make people happy and share his joy with everyone at the town. would wind up having a food fight with the kids, splattering batter and swiping flour on each other.

felix regularly sponsors desserts for the town events, and so the events automatically become crowded because pretty much the entire town loves felix's baking. especially his brownies. he's not the only baker in town — competing with madam choi and lady yun. despite both bakers disliking him, he's nice to them regardless! buys goods from both their bakeries at times to show support. he's such a bundle of sunshine, it's impossible for anyone to dislike him. always all smiles as he fills the air with the sweet smell of cinnamon and vanilla.

you totally lucked out the moment felix moved in beside your house, because ever since the first time he gave you brownies as a hello gift, he's been sending food weekly. you're the first one to test his new recipes. felix claims that it's because you have excellent tastebuds when really, he just wants to impress you. . .

KIM SEUNGMIN. . . best barista ever! the kim family's cafe, "coffee pot" was passed down to him. . . for good. the business was frankly dying until his midas touch. he inserted book racks in the cafe, allowing people to both donate and take books from there for free. with the help of hyunjin and chan, he decorated the interior of the cafe, bringing life to the previously dull environment.

he's the epitome of traditionally new — brewing coffee the traditional way but also introducing modern menus. also purchases pastries from felix in order to add on to his menu.

being a barista, he always smells like coffee. you find yourself inching closer towards him everytime you talk to lose yourself in the smell of his cologne and coffee. he never noticed. you as well — oblivious to his advances such as making up discounts and giving away free beverages everytime you step foot into the cafe. he's infatuated with you, so much so that he could recognize you by the pitter-patter of your feet against the tiles, and the way you swing open the oak door to his business. it's hard for seungmin to conceal his smile everytime you enter, having to fake cough each time.

people don't only visit "coffee pot" to purchase his exquisite coffee, rather to watch him at work as well. you don't blame them — the sight of him with tugged up sleeves, glasses at the bridge of his nose and a focused expression could make anybody drool.

a multi-talented workaholic of a man, seungmin also owns an apothecary. if he couldn't be found at the cafe, he's stocking up on medicines at the apothecary. you're sick and stuck at home? he'll arrive within an hour, a bag of pastries and remedies in hand.

YANG JEONGIN. . . the town's typical fashionista! amidst the town's rather old-fashioned way, there's a fashionable vlogger. he contrasts the town's ways, but due to his family being known as one of the earliest residing people in town, and his sweet persona, everybody adores him anyway. sure, there's hushed talks whenever he's at the town square with his vlog camera, yet anytime there's a modern problem. . . it's jeongin to the rescue!

grandma choi's wifi is not working well? he's there fixing the router. grandpa cho can't figure out sms? he'll be the guide. miss wang wants to take revenge on her ex husband? i.n will be there to gossip and to suggest a revenge dress. best person to gossip with. frequently, jeongin, felix and hyunjin could be seen gossiping away at the town square. if you're in need of new pictures to upload on instagram, you can count it on jeongin to help! he'll happily suggest places in town to take pictures at, and will go with you to help take pictures too! sucha darling company to have, truly. . .

although he's modern, he works at a vinyl store. walk pass the windows of the vintage store and you can spot i.n in a pair of overalls, choosing records to play. if you're fortunate enough, you'll catch him dancing and humming along as a record plays on the antic gramophone. it's a soft sight to witness, the starting point of your adoration towards him. so welcoming to you when you enter the store, will chat away about the records he like.

on the night of your first date with him, he had given you the privilege of entering the vinyl store at night. he played paul anka and swayed with you, giggling everytime you mess up. in the end, you had toppled over his figure — the cause of your first kiss with him.

taglist (send an ask to be added!) : @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @bakugossanity , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel , @bbujiikseu , @asters-abditory , @byjeekies , @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @strayingawayy , @cb97whoree , @g4m3girl , @jeonginwrld

© 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

[yullalightk]

WOTFI IS HERE!!!!!!! WHOOO!!!!!!

I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE! But! I watched it after the livestream countdown, and, BOI! Do I have a lot to say!! and I'll make a part 2 of the WOTFI review cause, I don't think I'll be able to fit everything in one post. And with a lot of school projects on the line. So, I'll work on pt 2! and post it tomorrow!

!Also, spoiler warning!

So... we good? Okay! strap in!!

First off the thumbnail looks AMAZING!!!!! It really got me excited as soon as I woke up at 1 in the morning lmao😂

As soon as I watched it I was actually surprised they decided not to go with the horror route like in the trailer.. But personally, I'm not gonna complain I mean that should've been expected imo.

Also, the poster is soo fricking cool!!!! Like, I can't get enough of this art style and THE WAY IT WAS ANIMATED WAS LIKE A MOVIE INTRO!!!! IT WAS BEAUTIFUL!!!!!✨

The intro/Puzzles' backstory

So, I'm glad that Mr Puzzles gave us a more clearer explanation to his backstory. Even though it was something a lot of us knew already. None the less it was nice! I'm curious about the mother though, like, what was she like to Puzzles? Was she someone who didn't believe in her son's dreams as well? Or maybe someone who encouraged him to keep trying? Idk honestly, but maybe we'll get that answer in next year's WOTFI!

I also don't think he just sat in his room all day to adulthood, maybe he left his home to chase his dream but failed on multiple occasions. (Kinda like in the series where he tries to kill the crew but fails all the time) or, he watched TV all day as a coping mechanism. Trying to escape the cruelty of the world he lived in.

Also, wdhm when he said "The rest is history" like, we need more. Like how you got godlike powers? maybe that'll be explored more in WOTFI 2025!

Side note: Leggy's face when she dropped little Puzzles was funny for some reason help! IT HAD NO REASON TO BE THIS FUNNY!!😂😂

HE SWORE!!!!! YESS!!!!!!!! I swear he needs to let his anger out more, You gotta give kudos to him for enduring Mario's chaos😂

The casts!

I really LOVED the character designs! I can see how they are freaks now!

My all time favorites are SMG3, Bob, and Karen! They're designs stick out the most in the cast and I do like how they are all under Puzzles' control, like the PV movie!

Wish Saiko had more screen time though, I'm just a little disappointed at that. They could've done something interesting for her. Heck, they even gave the rest of the main cast more screen time than her.

But, maybe we'll see that in the next WOTFI? Hold up- wait a sec, I'm seeing a pattern of sorts... are, the stuff that felt lackluster in the 2024 WOTFI coming back as something better in WOTFI 2025?? That could be a possibility. I might make a theory on that, but hopefully when I'm not busy.

Side note: I swear this episode made me ship Mario and Puzzles so much!!😂😂 I mean- It's just hilarious to me!

Like when he said "Dear Mario" I know he hates him but like the way he says it made it feel like he likes him, or just toying with him!! Marware fans are eatin' good today! And he also complimated Mario on his performances on the fire perfomance!!! I know... he was doing what a judge does, try say something nice to the performers. But! That won't stop me from shipping them! And don't forget! Mario also still wanted to stay despite the hell Mr Puzzles put them through, in the rap Mario still wanted to have some fun in the amusment park! But, also glad he attacks him when Puzzles harms Mario's friend. And can be scared of him sometimes.

Now listen, I know he was trying to get Mario back so he won't ruin his show again but to me it also looks like he wants Mario to pay attention to him! kinda like a yandere😂😂 I'm just letting Marware infect my brain at this point haha.. it's becoming a curse.

Anyway that's part 1 for now. Part 2 will hopefully come out tomorrow as well, and I also have some projects to do so I know I said I will post every Saturday but that may be a little difficult, I'll get part 2 out tomorrow and I really hope that'll be the end of my review of this year's WOTFI!

Thanks for reading! hope ya'll enjoyed my WOTFI 2024 review pt 1.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 30 (Malcolm Finally Meets His Son!)

Nancy and Geoffrey finally forced their son to face his ex, anxious to meet their grandson and tired of Malcolm avoiding his responsibility. They all showed up together on a Saturday afternoon when Heather was home alone with her son.

(I had to rotate to the Landgraabs to make Malcolm go over after waiting a very long time to see if he'd autonomously reach out or come over on his own, and nope.)

"You missed Ash's first birthday," Heather said. She didn't want to let them in. "What made you decide to show up now?"

"The sun's hot and we drove all the way from the city on that wretched Simmerloop," said Nancy. "Our lawyer says with the paternity test and no custody agreement, we can involve him any time."

"Pregnant again already?" Malcolm sniffed.

Heather offered a stiff grin, refusing to let on that she knew Malcolm stole her code and unwilling to open up about her personal choices with her ex. She needed time to finish her new app and didn't want to talk about the clinic with Nancy around.

But no matter how she felt about Malcolm, she didn’t want to pass her resentment to their son and grudgingly let them in. If Ash was destined to be disappointed by his father, it would be by Malcolm’s own actions.

Still, Heather couldn’t help but resent him, swooping in to make their son babble for the first time even though he’d missed every previous milestone.

"His last name should be Landgraab," complained Nancy (more than once). She sneered at her son's ex while hogging cuddle time with her grandson. "Don't you worry you'll struggle to raise your son and run your business? Especially if you're planning to be a surrogate for all your friends."

Heather bared her teeth as she forced a smile. "You raised a hell of a son while working full-time for your family's company," she said. Everyone could sense her sarcasm.

But Ash had Malcolm's eyes. Meeting his son tugged at his heart, and he suddenly regretted not being there for his birth or his first year of life. He spent the afternoon playing with his son whenever Nancy and Geoffrey would actually put him down, until the infant started getting fussy. When Heather insisted she needed feed her son and get him ready for bed, they finally left after sunset.

Heather hadn't considered giving Ash the surname Landgraab since before his birth. For one, Malcolm wasn’t around to deserve it, but if she was completely honest with herself, it was more than that.

Even if she thought Mortimer Goth’s tale of cursed Landgraabs was bogus, she was perfectly happy not to test fate, either. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[focsle]

"Here I am scribbling nonsense [in] when I should be engaged in the more useful [and] occupation of washing out some very dirty clothes of which I am the happy owner so with the permission of the reader if I am so fortunate as to have one I will once more haul taut + belay." - William Douglass Buel, whaler on the bark Wave, 1856

Since I am unable to do my heaps of laundry today because someone has inconsiderately monopolized AAAAALL the machines, it's time to write a post about whaleship laundry day to quell my fury!

"A person unused to the sight of the ship would take the Old Lucy Ann for a ready made clothing store, the rigging being hung full of wet clothing" wrote John Martin of his ship on laundry day in 1842.

As always, laundry was a dreaded task but also an absolutely necessary one, especially given how begrimed (or as one whaler put it, 'beshit') things would get on a whaler. William Abbe, a greenhand on the Atkins Adams in 1858, most viscerally described the mess that came from the work:

"To turn out at midnight and put on clothes soaked in raw oil. To go on deck and work for Eighteen hours among blubber—slipping + stumbling on the sloppy decks til you are covered from crown to heel with oil—eating with oily hands oily grub—drinking from oily pots til your mouth and lips have a nauseating oily luster—turning in for a few hours sleep — after wiping off your bare body with oakum to take off the thickest of the oil"

So you gotta clean that shit! 'Clean'. A relative sort of word.

First, whalers soaked their dirty clothes in the communal urine barrel, as the ammonia content of stale urine was one of the few things strong enough on board to start to cut through the grease. Sometimes the clothes would be towed behind the ship afterwards to rinse them, but that wasn't always the case. Rainwater was also collected in anticipation of wash day to have fresh water to rinse with. With this fresh water, a lye was also made using the ashes and crispy blubber scraps come from the trying out process. The deck would be washed in a similar way after trying out a whale, often using a combo of urine, lye, and sand. J.E. Haviland, of the Baltic in 1857 described the laundry work that he had never expected to be doing himself:

"Tomorrow all hands are to wash out their clothes with the ashes made from the scraps These ashes are put in a cask and then pour fresh water in the cask + this makes a very strong Lye which might take all the grease and slush out of the clothes without applying any soap. I have some 12 pieces to wash but I think I can do it as quick and as well as any wash woman. If any one had of told me two years ago I should be obliged to wash my own clothes, say nothing about mending then I should have thought them a fool. But man proposses + God disposses."

Whaling wife Almira Gibbs, who accompanied her family (Captain and young son) aboard more than one whaler had her own recipe for soap, despite Haviland's assertion that it wasn't necessary:

"1 lb castile soap 1 1/4 lb soda 6c worth borax add 5 pts water and let it simmer till it is all dissolved, take it off and add 9 pts water and let it cool."

Whaling wives aboard also complained about laundry and the difficulty of doing it aboard ship. The moldering of clothes in such a damp environment, the constant roll of the vessel sometimes overturning one's tub or making ironing dangerous, having to wait for rainfall for fresh water, and a sunny day for actually performing said wash, were constant features in wives' laments. Mary Lawrence, aboard the Addison in 1860 sarcastically wrote about her laundry attempt thwarted by the weather one July.

July 30 A wonderful circumstance. When we were called this morning, the sun was shining bright. “Now for a washing day,” thought I, “if it is Saturday.” So I went to work; had a large wash, it being four weeks since I had had one before. Just as I got about half through, the fog came thicker than I ever saw it before. I was obliged to put my white clothes in soak and dry the colored clothes in the cabin.

She also mentioned her young daughter Minnie who "took her little tub and washed her dog's bedclothes, for Jip has had a bed all the season that had to be made up like anybody's bed".

Sighting whales at any point would also put an interruption to the wash. This photo taken aboard the Sunbeam by Clifford Ashley in his brief 1904 research trip shows men hoisting up the whaleboats after taking a small whale, their Sunday laundry still hanging between the davits.

I'll close with whaling wife Mary Brewster's description of a wash day following the trying out of a whale on her husband's ship Tiger, one winter day in Magdalena Bay 1847.

"Calm pleasant weather. Employed in sewing till 4 this afternoon, when I went on deck, where I found every part, and everything about, very nice and clean. The sailors all washing up their dirty clothes, both trypots full boiling in ley [lye] and the rigging hung full. A few garments floating which had taken flight overboard to save washing. All presented a lively spectable and I could say with all hands, farewell to Greybacks [lice]."

[idk6123]

An Arranged Marriage For The Richest (Derby Harrington X Male Reader)

Derby life’s goal is to follow his father’s footstep and become as successful as him. Being the heir of an oil digging made his life so much easier. Being the richest of the rich. Buying expensive things a regular person needs to work for in a year or two. That is his life, and it’s all thanks to his father. Because of that, he listens to him dearly, to the point of choosing his future partner, which is Pinky, his cousin. Other people find it weird, but he doesn’t mind it. He does mind how much attention she seeks of him. To his luck, he got a better offer.

“You wish to speak to me, father?”

“Yes.” Inside of his office, Mr. Harrington sits behind his desk while addressing the issue. “I know you got an arranged marriage with your cousin, Pinky. However, we have to cancel that deal, because I found a better offer.”

Derby looks surprised. “Who is it?”

“It’s our rival, Mendez. With this deal, we can fuse the two biggest oil companies in America to become the number one in the world.” Mr. Harrington sounds excited with the plan. “We have dinner with them this Saturday, where you meet your future spouse. That being said, Mendez’s heir is a son as well, so you will be marrying a man, but I don’t expect that being a problem.”

“Of course not.” Derby honestly doesn’t care if he needs to marry off a guy or a girl. All he just wants to do is making his father proud. “Won’t that be a problem with your friends? Your son marrying another man?”

“They have nothing to complain about when we have twice amount the money.” Mr. Harrington assures. “His name is Y/N Mendez, remember that. Make sure to treat him like a gentleman.”

“Of course, father.”

-

With their fancy clothes on, Derby and his father are being driven by their personal chauffeur towards the Mendez’s mansion. It’s around the size of their own, with a gorgeous, well taken care garden. After they parked the car, they get to the gate and grants access to come in. Once at the door, they get greeted by the rich family.

“Mr. Harrington. It’s a pleasure allowing you to come in our house.” Mr. Mendez greets him with an arm. His wife is next to him. “And it’s an honor meeting you, Derby Harrington.”

After fancy introductions, they get in the mansion, seeing the grand entrance of the building. The guests put their jackets away and follow the couple to the dining room. Once there, they see their son.

“Y/N, this is Mr. Harrington, and his son, Derby Harrington.”

“Pleasure meeting you.” Y/N shakes both of their hands.

“Like wise.” Derby says with a handsome smile.

-

After some talking, the five of them sit down at the large dining table. Maids and butlers set down the plates of food that is freshly prepared from the chefs. As they begin eating their fancy food, the five of them chat, mostly about business stuff. Though since both teens doesn’t have much experience with it, they barely talk. That’s why Y/N begins to talk to his future husband.

“Where do you go to school?”

“Bullworth Academy. What about you?”

“Redwood Academy.” Y/N responds. “Isn’t Bullworth that school filled with psychos?”

“Sadly, yes.” Derby replies with a chuckle. “We have poor, poorer, and poorest. Brainless monkey’s without brains and nerds without any spine. I’m lucky I got 8 fellow preps that makes the school less horrible.”

“Sounds rough. My school isn’t any better.” Y/N smiles as well. “We have punks that don’t bother showering. Goths and theater kids that seeks attention. Teens addicted to drugs. It’s honestly sad that schools nowadays allow people like that on their ground.”

“I wholeheartedly agree. How about hobbies?”

“Swimming, poker, martial art. I’m considering shooting in the future.”

“Looks like we got the same interests as well.” The blonde says with a smirk. “I’m more of the art of boxing myself. It’s something my group takes pride in. My dearest friend, Bif, managed to secure us countless trophies.”

“Sounds like you’re real close with your friends. I’m guessing you’re their leader?”

“That is a good guess.” Derby complements him. “Let me take a guess as well. You’re one as well?”

“Of course. I’m inheriting my father’s company. I need to prove myself and others I can be a leader.”

Derby can share the same settlement. He didn’t expect connecting with his future husband this well. Pinky, for example, he finds her just annoying and demanding. Y/N, however, is someone he can relate to, and thus respect. He’s glad his father got this deal, because he would rather spent his future with someone like Y/N instead of Pinky.

-

Ever since that day, the two continue to get to know each other. Mostly by their parents setting up dinner parties and other events. Though they do meet up unofficially after school. They have been going steady, to the point Derby wants Y/N to meet his best friend, Bif.

“I didn’t know you liked the gents.”

“I blame Pinky for that.” Derby says with a chuckle. “Besides, if it’s an arranged marriage with someone’s son that owns another oil company. Luckily for me, he isn’t annoying.”

“Sounds like true love.” Bif sarcastically comments. “Don’t you think you should’ve describe him on what you like about him, or his personality.”

“I like about him that he isn’t annoying.”

Bif sighs, but smiles. “I would love to meet him.”

“Good. I bring him at the gym after school. Make sure not to be drenched in sweat.”

-

Bif leans against the ring as he awaits for his friend. As he looks at the entrance, he spots the blonde walking in, holding Y/N’s hand. Bif stands up and walks over to them.

“Bif, this is Y/N, my fiancé. Y/N, this is my best friend, Y/N.”

“It’s great to meet you. Derby told a lot about you.”

“I can say the same.” Bif makes sure to not mention about Derby’s comment about Y/N not being irritating. “Fiancé, huh? So it’s set in stone.”

“Well, there are some stuff our parents need to figure out, but I have zero doubts that won’t work out.” Derby says with a smile to his boyfriend.

“We hope to get wed after we graduate. Our plans are to study about running a company, but once that done, we’re CEO’s of the biggest oil company in the world.” Y/N says with a proud smile.

“Now we have to take care of Saudi Arabia and Chine, but let’s be honest, it’s only inevitable we have a war with them.” Derby adds.

“Which brings more profit.” Y/N also adds.

Bif can tell they’re meant to be together. “You two will be a great couple.”

“Thank you.” Derby replies. “Of course you will be invited to the wedding, as well the rest of the group.”

“Hey, how about we ask Bif for advice?”

“Hm? What can I do?”

Y/N looks back at him. “We’re discussing where to hold our marriage. We’re thinking about Paris, New York City, London-”

Bif continues to hear Y/N rambling about the most expensive wedding revenues with tens of options.

-

Months has passed, and the marriage is about to begin. They finally settle it down at The Biltmore Estate in North Carolina. It’s a bit smaller than they wanted it to be, but it’s good enough. Inside of the large mansion, Derby awaits in his room as he looks at himself through the mirror. Besides him is Bif, also wearing a tux.

“You look fine.”

“I don’t want to look fine. I want to look perfect.” Derby looks at himself with paranoia. “I feel like something is off. Suit fits perfectly… hair is well done…” He mutters to himself as he goes from one thing to another. “Face looks handsome…”

“You’re just nervous.”

“I’m not.” Derby assures. He turns around and looks at his back.

“Yes, you are.” Bif grabs his friend’s shoulder, forcing him to look at him. “You’re just about the marry the guy you love and spend the entire life with. This is natural. My dad felt the same way before the divorce.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I’m beyond happy this is happening.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be nervous.” Derby remains quiet. “Look, you look perfect. Even without your tux, you do. I know. I talked plenty of times with Y/N. He loves you, a lot. He’s like another version of you.”

Derby smiles after feeling stressed. “He’s probably stressing about this too.”

“I would bet on it. Now, let’s calm down and prepare your speech.”

-

Soon the marriage starts. There was a major discussion between the two family who is the man in the relationship and after a while, Derby and Y/N stepped in that they both will be. So, they stand at the altar. Derby stands with his father and his best friend, and Y/N has the same at his side. Between them is the marriage officiant, who had a speech to address the merry couple. In the audience, there are friends of both spouses, as well their father’s coworkers and friends. Some of them are more… traditional to say the least, but the fathers still thought it was a good idea to invite them just to see the look of their faces when they see one of the biggest companies in the country fusing together.

After the speech, it’s time to have both spouses to say their vows, starting with Y/N.

“I know it isn’t a long time since we met, but ever since that dinner party, I had a gut feeling you are the one. And standing here today, that gut feeling isn’t just a feeling, it’s a fact. I’m glad I’m going to spend my entire life with someone that I can relate to. Someone ambitious, strong, smart and kind. I’m inspired by you and have the motivation to make this marriage better one day after another, as well our future companies, as CEO’s.”

Then it’s Derby’s turn. “I have to say, you took the words right from the mouth. The first day we met, I know we end up together. And like you said, we’re perfect. In general and together. As a Harrington, it’s an honor to marry a Mendez. Not just as a company, but also as life partners. I make sure to treat you well, and when the time comes, make sure to stand by your side when things get tough, as you will do with me.”

And so, the rings get passed. Each spouse having the same kind of expensive diamond ring to give each other. When done, they look at each other with a smile.

“I, Derby Harrington, take me Y/N Mendez as my lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health till death parts us.”

“I, Y/N Mendez, take me Derby Harrington as my lawfully wedded husband in sickness and in health till death parts us.”

“May you know kiss the groom.”

And so, the two are officially husband and husband, with the entire room clapping. In the audience, the preps are beyond happy for their leader.

“They’re so perfect…” Gord begins to tear up. “They’re the IT couple.”

“May our- I mean mine wedding be like this.” Chad reacts with awe.

“They better not divorce like their parents.” Bryce points out.

Everyone is beyond happy, except Pinky, who’s feeling salty. “This could’ve been mine wedding!”

[headfulloflettuce]

The Human Who Fooled All of Prythian

28. A Father's Lessons

Note: The one in which Cosette tries to do some taxes.

‘Dad I don’t want to kill it.’

‘Cosette, if you wait any longer you will miss your chance.’

‘Can’t we just buy meat at the store and then grill it? Why is this even necessary?.’ she gritted her teeth.

‘Cosette, shoot.’

‘No!’

The man sighed, crouching by his daughter, placing his hands over hers, “It’s just a deer Cosette.”

Cosette glared.

‘Shoot like we practiced, in the heart or lungs. It’s a humane kill.’ he tried to coax her, ‘Besides, you need to learn to defend yourself.”

‘I can fight if I need to!’

‘Oh really? You want to throw punches with a man much more buff and skilled than you?’

‘Of course not-’

‘Then shoot. He might throw a punch well, but his muscles will do shit against a bullet.’

Nicholas yawned, ‘Ya’ll, it’s cold. Can we just get this over with?’

‘Nich, shut up.’

‘Children, calm.’

‘I am not shooting it.’

‘Okay, then I will.’ Nicholas pulled out his shotgun.

‘Son, put the gun down, this is Cosette’s kill.’

‘But she’s not going to shoot.’ Nicholas groaned.

‘Cosette.’ her father spoke, his voice gruff but not angry, ‘Take a deep breath for me.’

His child obliged, inhaling the cold air, the petrichor scent calming her.

‘Now, you’re going to shoot the deer.’

‘Da-’

‘I’ll count down for you.’

Nicholas snorted, earning a warning glare from his father.

‘Just imagine it’s a tree.’

‘It’s alive though.’

‘3.’

‘It breathes, it thinks and you’re asking me to kill it.’ Cosette tensed feeling her father’s hands tighten around hers.

‘2’.

She felt his hands gently stroke hers, trying to offer comfort.

‘1’.

Cosette pulled the trigger.

The deer bawled, trying to take a step but instead collapsed on the grassy floor.

Nicholas carefully walked over to the animal, checking if it had died, ‘Nice, clean heart shot.’

Cosette felt her father pull her up out of her hiding spot in the bushes.

‘See? It didn’t even have to suffer.’

Cosette nodded, still staring at the dead body, her father having to gently take the gun out of her hands, trying to get his daughter to stop shaking.

‘Next time you should stay back with mom.’ Nich smirked, putting the deer into a bag.

Cosette didn’t say anything as they trudged back through the foliage, making their way back to the parking lot. Her father cast her glances but said nothing, letting her work through her emotions by herself.

She took another deep breath.

It was just a regular Saturday.

The trees made her feel small. Small and guilty for what she had just done.

At least we were going to eat it.

That argument didn’t really make Cosette feel better though.

Okay, what’s a better thing to think about? Fauna? Yeah, the fauna is nice today. Very pretty.

Cosette let out a small huff as she climbed over a log after her brother and father, the duo waiting for her to catch up before continuing their walk. She smiled when she saw the first signs of gravel and proper road.

Finally, no more fauna. Couldn’t we have gone to the beach for some proper family bonding time?

Cosette looked to see her mother leaning against their car, sipping wine.

‘Took you a while.’ her French accent seeped into her words like the dirt into Cosette’s skin.

‘Cosette didn’t want to shoot the damn deer.’ Nicholas complained, earning a glare from Cosette.

The blonde haired woman rolled her eyes, turning to her daughter, wiping some dirt off her face, ‘Men are always so brutish.’

Cosette’s father leaned over, his usually neat light brown hair disheveled from hunting, and took a sip from the woman’s glass, ‘If brutality is what protects my kids so be it. Do we have whiskey?’

The woman rolled her eyes, pulling the wine glass away from him and drinking from the same spot he did, ‘I still say brutish, and yes, it’s in the front seat of the car. I brought tea too, it’s in a thermos.’

Nicholas sat down on a fold out chair and began skinning the deer, making Cosette look away, squeamish at the sight. Her father leaned over, pulling her close to his side as he led them to the car’s trunk. He grabbed the whiskey bottle and tea filled thermos and placed them on a picnic table before storing the guns away appropriately. Cosette quickly ran over to the picnic table, filling a cup with whiskey and adding some black tea to it. 

She rushed back to the car, holding the mug out to her father who smiled, taking it from her.

‘You did well.’

‘Hmm.’ was all the answer she gave him.

He ruffled her hair, letting her grab a book and her guitar bag from the car before joining Nich in cleaning up the deer and preparing it to be cooked. 

Cosette sat with her mother next to the campfire, opening her book to continue reading about the history of guns, taking a large swig of the remaining tea in the thermos. The liquid burned her throat, but the pain was pleasurable enough to not scare her.

‘Don’t tell me you’re reading the gun manual again.’ Nicholas groaned, placing a piece of venison meat onto the fire’s coals, wrapped in foil, ‘Why read the details about what the weapon is made of when our primary goal is to just…use it?’

Cosette smacked him with her book, earning a yelp.

‘Clearly not since this one actually hurt you.’ she threateningly raised the book again but Nich scurried away back to the rest of the deer.

And as for reading the manual…you never know when some knowledge like this would come in handy. Besides, at least I get to surprise my friends with fun facts! For example, sulfur, one of the three ingredients necessary to produce gunpowder, can be found in caves in crystalline form. 

Wouldn’t that be a fun girls trip? Go down to a cave in Italy and take their sulfur to make an explosive.

Cosette glanced at her mother who was staring at her phone, swaying her foot to the music playing through her headphones.

‘Mom, did you know that bat excrement can be used to make saltpeter, which is one of the three ingredients necessary for gunpowder?’

‘No I didn't, dear.’ her mother looked up at her for a moment before returning her gaze to her screen, ‘Is that from your book that you’ve been reading?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Haha, nerd.’ Nich dramatically sat down next to Cosette into his own chair by the fire, putting in the last pieces of venison with their father.

‘Please, me, a nerd? You rambled to me about this season’s fashion and how Kelsey is wearing the wrong earrings.’

‘Kelsey was wearing the wrong earrings though!’ Nicholas and their mother yelled.

‘Never understood you and your fashion sense.’ their father chuckled, stirring the coals, heat hitting their faces as a result.

Cosette’s mother turned her attention back to her, ‘In the book I’ve been reading the girl finally dumped the guy she was dating.’

‘Finally.’ Cosette smiled, ‘Oh my friends recommended this other book. Since you like romance books Mom, maybe you heard about it?’

‘What’s it called?’

‘A Court of Thorns and Roses?’

Cosette’s mother let out a dark chuckle, ‘I heard a thing or two about it yeah.’

‘They’re really excited because a new book is coming out.’

‘Are you going to read it?’

‘Maybe, if I have time.’

‘Ah, so never then.’ Nich joked.

Cosette rolled her eyes, ‘How is fashion school?’

‘It’s fine, apart from Kelsey. What about High School?’

‘The usual. College applications are killing me though.’

‘Unlike someone she’s not terrorizing her teachers.’ their father gave his son a pointed look.

Nich shrugged, ‘Mrs Brown had it coming from a mile away.’

‘Mrs Brown is a nice Lady!’ Cosette defended.

Their father pulled out some metal sticks to make marshmallows on. The woman muttered in French, turning back to her wine while her kids grabbed a stick each and began roasting their marshmallows. 

The fire licked the sweet, slowly turning it a crispy brown color.

‘This is nice…’ Cosette sighed, taking her marshmallow off the fire and biting into it, her mother rolling her eyes at her child’s messy eating.

Their father smiled fondly, the long sleeves of his sweater rolled back, his fingers tapping against the metal stick he too was holding now, waiting for his own marshmallow to golden.

Cosette reached for a napkin to clean her hands before picking up her guitar.

‘Say Cosette, are you proud of yourself?’ Nich asked, his voice calm.

‘In general, or…?’

‘For replacing us.’ He looked at her. Nich’s eyes, ones that normally would have matched her green were dark, having lost their mischievous gleam.

What’s happening?

‘You’re not even trying to get home.’

No, this is wrong. This wasn't what he said during this trip.

‘No- I. Of course I am trying.’

‘Are you though?’ Nicholas’s marshmallow had begun burning, turning into a gooey dark substance.

‘Nich, your marshmallow.’ Cosette pointed, but her brother merely stood up, pointing the metal pole towards Cosette.

‘Nich, put that down, it’s dangerous.’ Cosette stood up as well, backing away.

Why is it suddenly hard to breathe?

She glanced at her parents but they said nothing, still staring at the fire which was now blazing out of control.

‘Dad, tell him that he’s being an idio-’

‘Look at me when I speak to you!’

Cosette flinched, her brother’s voice no longer his own but Beron’s, angry and vile.

‘I could never replace you.’ she cried, trying to reach Nicholas, only for him to lunge at her with the metal pole that had now turned into a spear.

Cosette awoke with a start, quickly sitting up, breathing too quickly for comfort. She put her face into her hands, rubbing sweat away.

I can’t even dream of them in peace.

She felt a gentle hand on her back, slowly rubbing her, and another pulling her into a hug.

“Beron?” Ophelia asked softly.

Cosette nodded, finding it easier to just agree.

No Ophelia it was actually my family from my home world that I am trying to get back to. What? No, of course I am not crazy Ophelia, why ever would you think that?

Cosette hugged back, resting her head on Ophelia’s shoulder. 

The fae brushed her hair back, murmuring gently, “Do you want me to open up by myself today?”

“No, I am fine.” Cosette eventually pulled away, “I just need a minute.”

“Perhaps you should consider getting that tea Aquilo recommended? The one his soldiers take?”

Cosette was hesitant, “I don’t want to rely on tea to solve this for me.”

Ophelia frowned, “You’re not relying only on it. Besides, if you cannot sleep properly it’s okay to take something to help you. How else will you get better if you don’t even get proper rest?”

Cosette nodded, “You’re right…I’ll get it today during lunch.”

“Good.” Ophelia got out of bed, pulling Cosette after her, smiling happily, “Now, what do you want for breakfast?”

“It’s your turn to choose.”

“Hmm, I think we can make an exception.”

“Alright, well if I get to choose I want oatmeal with fruit.”

“I’ll get it started.” Ophelia left for the bathroom, returning changed, her hair made into a bun from braids, ready to start a new day.

I should really get a haircut. On the other hand, the longer hair makes me look different from before.

Glancing in the mirror of the simple vanity they had, Cosette struggled to see the same girl who worked in the kitchens of Autumn. 

However, is longer hair and a better complexion enough?

Or if faced with Eris again, would he recognize me?

Cosette walked downstairs, having changed into her work dress as well, her hair made into a neat bun. She sat down at the small table they had designated to be free from any of her perfumery experiments, with Ophelia setting down two bowls of oatmeal.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, eat up.” Ophelia sat across from her, passing a paper towards her, “By the way, I stopped by the community center like you asked and got you the newspapers from last year, as well as for this month.”

“Thank you.” Cosette began looking through them as she ate her oatmeal, savoring the couple juicy pieces of fruits she got. 

Strange, just like Blanche said they excuse the bad smell due to the lack of ‘high quality ingredients’. Sure, low quality ingredients may not turn out the best perfume but it shouldn’t smell the way that street smells.

Cosette skimmed some of the other articles, with most of them being filled with generic court gossip. The only interesting part was the text about the pelt trade with the other Courts, especially Autumn. 

This is from a year ago. I wonder if they still trade pelts with them? They clearly don’t trade crops as there are problems securing certain foods in stores that should, in theory, be able to grow in Autumn Court. 

Cosette looked up at Ophelia who was focused on her food. 

She has good table manners. 

Not that Cosette thought that Lesser Fae couldn't have them, as she had seen Blanche, Forrest and many of their guests eat with grace, but Ophelia carried herself differently from them.

Guess the experience of working in a palace never fully leaves you.

Cosette understood why Aquilo was persistent in trying to interact with her. Ophelia’s eyes were a reddish brown with specks of gold and umber. One could get lost in them if they stared for too long. Sometimes Cosette wondered if the calming effect they had was a natural byproduct of their beauty or something more. 

“You’re pretty.” Cosette murmured.

Ophelia giggled, “Don’t forget to eat.”

Cosette took a bite of her food.

“I finished making a batch of the sandalwood perfume, so we can debut it tomorrow after writing up all the labels.”

“Okay!” Ophelia finished her plate, cleaning it up and putting it away. Cosette did the same, sitting down and beginning to write out labels while Ophelia opened up shop.

After writing down at least two dozen Cosette decided to take a break by filling out taxes.

Yes. Taxes. Well, technically not taxes, but an income census would perhaps be a better phrasing of what she was trying to fill out.

Cosette sat in her office, her face scrunched up as she tried to figure out the forms sent to her by the court’s treasury administration.

Why must faeries, faeries of all creatures, have taxes?

Apparently even in a fictional fantasy world she couldn’t escape them.

Though, was it really a fictional world if it had taxes?

The fifth came much sooner than she had expected. 

In the end Cosette gave in to the desire to cut her hair, but settled on only a small trim, keeping the actual length.

“Stay still, I am making you look nice.”

“I don’t think we spent this much time preparing for a meeting with Viviane.” Cosette noted, trying to stay still as Ophelia ran her hands through her blonde hair once more, checking that she cut everything evenly. 

“Well, you didn’t ask for a hair-do that time.”

“Fair point.”

“What do you think of doing a braid? We had you wear your hair down for Viviane but that was to achieve a more elegant look for a tea party.”

Cosette tilted her head thinking, only for Ophelia to gently push her back into an upright position.

“A braid will look more sophisticated.” Ophelia explained.

“If you think so, let’s try it.”

“Okay!” Ophelia began braiding Cosette’s hair, gently carding through her locks.

Cosette sighed, relaxing against her hands.

“Hm, you like that?” Ophelia smiled, booping her nose as she finished tying her braid with a small bow, draping it over Cosette’s shoulder so it was in the front.

“Yes.” Cosette confessed.

They both knew how touch starved the other was.

Ophelia gave her a small hug, “The meeting will be over before you know it.”

“I appreciate you trying to calm my nerves but the fact of the matter still is that I am going to meet a High Lord.”

“Yes, well, I assumed I lectured you enough about this that you deserve some reassurance before you go into the beast’s den.”

Cosette really wanted to make a Yeti joke, but held off. 

Do they even have Yeti in AOCTAR?

Cosette stood up, walking with Ophelia downstairs, grabbing her cloak and hat on the way.

Theo, who had joined them back in the perfumery since the second shipment, paused when he saw Cosette.

She ended up wearing the same dress that she wore to the tea party with Viviane. Both her and Ophelia decided that spending a bunch of money on another dress, so soon after buying the first one, wouldn’t be wise.

“You look good.”

“Thank you Theo.”

Theo looked tearful.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“I know…I am just worried.” Theo held her hands, “Come home safe, okay?”

I am not going off to war or something, it’s just lunch!

“You’re being overly dramatic Theo.” Ophelia pulled Cosette away from him, but the sharpness in her voice indicated that she too was scared.

Cosette pulled on her cloak, Ophelia and Theo tracking her every move.

“Well, I am off.” Cosette said into the awkward silence.

Ophelia gave her one more hug, before Cosette stepped out into the cold and got into a carriage that would take her to the palace. 

Cosette, upon entering, showed the letter of invitation she had received to the guards at the gates. After being let in she was escorted by two men who led her to the same part of the palace where she had hung out with Briar during their last meeting, except this time instead of being faced by a cozy room where she would be playing DnD with an acquaintance, she was faced with a door of cold blue shades, the ice shards and crystals decorating its edges sharp enough to cut through stone.

She knocked.

“Come in.”

Taking a deep breath Cosette stepped inside the office, bowing, “I greet the High Lord of Winter.”

Oh, it actually didn’t look terribly menacing.

Cosette relaxed slightly upon seeing a regular office, complete with bookcases and Winter Court’s signature fireplace. She remained standing by the office door, expecting them to go to the indoor garden or a dinning space of sorts, however Kallias remained seated at his desk, looking up at her.

“Please, sit down, Miss Cosette.” Kallias offered her a smile, “Make yourself comfortable.”

She smiled back, a shiver running down her spine as she did what he instructed.

Why can’t Winter Fae smile normally?

He pushed a stack of papers to the side, giving her his full attention, “They will bring lunch in about twenty minutes if that’s alright.”

“Of course High Lord.”

“Please, call me Kallias.”

What is with the first name basis? Please, I don’t feel comfortable. You are the literal ruler of the court I live and work in, we’re not drinking buddies. 

Wait, what do you mean they’re bringing lunch? We’re having lunch in your office? 

Cosette’s brain broke for a minute, before she managed to rev it up again to give the man a response.

“Of course…Kallias.” the name felt weird on her tongue.

He nodded approvingly, “How have you been Cosette?”

“I have been well.” Cosette answered.

I don’t sound terrified, right? Right?! What if he smells the fear on me??

“How is your farming venture coming along?” Kallias kept his tone even, not giving away any judgment of her.

“Ah, not well. We received news that the first test run failed.” Cosette’s smile wavered, “Only three of the fifteen ‘spirit homes’ had a pink root growing in them, even though all of them had dispensed the offerings provided.”

“I see, that is quite unfortunate.” Kallias nodded, looking at her expectantly.

So, Cosette continued, “We revised the tools and have sent the new prototypes to the farm.”

“Did you consult Medea?”

“Yes, I did.” Cosette nodded, “We added additional runes to retain the blessings the spirits bestow since we think the issue was that the energy given to the plant escaped after it was received by the tool. In a similar vein, we have simplified the design of the ‘houses’ to ensure that the additional decorations on them didn’t conflict with the reception and holding of the blessing.”

Kallias hummed, “That sounds reasonable, I am glad you took quick action to remedy the problem.”

Two fae servants walked in with platters, placing food for them.

That’s a lot.

Cosette began counting the side dishes but stopped after she noticed Kallias watching her, instead carefully cutting the fish on her plate, and glancing at the stack of papers he had pushed to the side, “May I ask what you’re working on?”

“Ah, taxes.” Kallias answered dryly, “Just double checking the percentages allotted to the citizens of our court based on their income. With the war and Amarantha’s reign we’ve had to adjust to ensure we didn’t bankrupt everyone.”

Cosette paused, unsure if she should even ask for help.

Kallias raised an eyebrow, “Is something the matter? Is the food not to your taste?”

“No, no, the food is wonderful! I just…” Cosette felt her cheeks burn slightly, “I have been trying to file the tax forms for your court and I am extremely confused.”

Kallias stared at her before chuckling, “Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you like me to explain it to you?”

Eh?

“Oh um, sure?”

I don’t want to get in trouble with your equivalent of the IRS, so I’ll take all the help I can get.

Kallias’s laughter slowly died down as he returned to previous calm, pulling out the same forms she had been battling against earlier, “Are taxes done differently in the faerie realms?”

“Yes.” Cosette decided to be a little bit honest, “In truth my father hired another fae to do our taxes for us.”

“And here I thought you weren’t from a wealthy family?”

Did Viviane tell him about that conversation? Not that it was private, but still…

“I am not, the service was affordable.”

“Is the service not affordable here?” Kallias challenged.

“I haven’t actually checked the availability of such services. I have just been trying to figure it out by myself because I want to understand the inner workings and management of Winter Court’s economy.” she offered a ginger smile, “Clearly that hasn’t gotten me very far.”

Kallias smiled, “Well, asking for help is completely natural. I am glad you came to me.”

Cosette relaxes slightly, the whole scene feeling rather domestic compared to what she had expected.

What did she even expect? An interrogation? To get jumped the moment she entered?

Now that she thought of it, Cosette didn’t even have a specific scenario that she was afraid would occur - she just feared Kallias. Or more so the concept of a High Lord.

He gestured her over and Cosette moved her chair to sit beside him, watching as he explained what the various parts of the form actually meant, clearing up any confusion she had. 

“Do you have the records of how much you earned with you?”

She nodded, pulling out the necessary documents to complete the form. 

I was planning on going to the office that handles questions from faeries regarding this topic after lunch. Why the hell did I tell him I need help?

Cosette’s face burned as Kallias pretty much began filling out the form for her.

It’s like when I came to my father and had him help me sort through paperwork, or fill out government forms because I was an incompetent dunce.

She wanted to slap herself for even thinking of her father in this situation. 

Cosette leaned over his shoulder, listening to his explanation. She caught a small whiff of the cologne she had made him, pulling back slightly.

I should have just asked Forrest for help. What am I doing asking a High Lord to help me with my taxes?

Granted, now Cosette could say she had a High Lord do her taxes for her.

That was something worth bragging about, right?

“There, all done. Does that make more sense?”

“Yes, thank you.” Cosette took the completed form and put it away, getting up to move back to her original spot. She froze as she felt the temperature drop significantly.

Cosette glanced back at Kallias, his face still wearing a seemingly calm smile. However the uncomfortable feeling that had settled over told her she had done something wrong. Very wrong.

She sat back down.

Cosette finished half of her meal, not risking to eat more in fear of her stress levels spiking and wanting to hurl, thanking the servant when he took it away.

Kallias finished the rest of the food provided, requesting water with ice.

Diabolical.

“Would you like some Cosette?”

“No, I am good.”

“Perhaps some tea to warm you up?”

“I’ll take the tea.” she conceded, the servant gave her tea, preparing the drink at a nearby cabinet filled with various liquors. 

Okay, this must almost be over. The food part is done, meaning we won’t have much more time lef-

“May I ask why you chose to open a perfumery?”

Cosette cursed herself for hoping for a swift conclusion to this.

“Well, I have a background in medicine and learned to work with herbs when I was younger, so when I came to Winter Court and noticed a lack of…perfumeries with my type of product I decided to open up my own.”

“A wise decision. It’s true that my court lacks perfumeries, as you so eloquently put it, with your type of product.” Kallias drank from his glass, “Though I must admit, I was a bit surprised as most people base their work in the more popular industries within Winter Court; like trading furs, crops, or crafted items with other courts.”

“What kind of crafted items?”

“Usually magical instruments like staffs or wooden amulets.”

Is there a difference between wooden amulets and ones made out of rock or stone? Is a siphon an amulet? I’ll have to ask Medea later. 

“We also have a pretty developed lumber industry compared to other courts.” Kallias noted.

“Really? I would have thought Spring would be the largest source of wood.” Cosette paused, regretting speaking so plainly.

But Kallias merely smiled, unoffended, “I like your bluntness Cosette. Since Spring Court is out of order right now, we have moved up in demand. However, in truth, all courts have fairly developed lumber businesses aside from perhaps Night Court. Night Court has a lot of mountains, similar to us, so they prefer mining. The rest of us trade with each other the wood that we have since each region tends to have certain trees that are native to that land only, and that are unable to grow anywhere else.”

Cosette nodded, not forgetting to take a sip of her tea, lest it get cold.

“But, of course, the ski resorts are the most important piece of our economy.”

Was…was that a joke?

Cosette laughed nervously, trying to gauge Kallias’s reaction, as much as he was hers.

“Relax, I am joking.”

Relax? Relax?! In these conditions?!

“Although the activity is popular.” Kallias tilted his head, “Do you ski Cosette?”

“Yes.”

Cosette had read the part about the faerie realms in her book, and the terrain was described to have mountains and the seasons worked normally, with the power of the fae Lords there being based in the natural elements of a different fashion.

So, she was confident in this bluff.

“Often?”

“Somewhat, but I am not the best at it.”

“Well, one never gets good without practicing. You should join me and Viviane on the slopes some time.”

Jesus, save me.

Cosette smiled, crying inside at the thought of having to ski with a group of faeries. The idea of being stuck with a bunch of beings, more powerful than her, in such a vulnerable and weak position terrified her.

“What about imports?” Cosette changed the subject.

“Ah, imports. We bring a lot of foods from Summer, Dawn and Day Court. We also get glass from Summer Court and books from Day Court.”

“How did the distribution of crops you get from each court shift after Spring’s…downfall?”

“A smart question Cosette. We certainly got a lot of produce from there before. Most of our necessities were fulfilled by them in fact, with the other courts filling in the missing gaps.”

Cosette paused, before asking, “Why not trade with Autumn?”

It would make sense. They can grow foods as well, yet you didn’t mention them despite their close proximity.

“Why do you think we’re not trading with them?”

Is this a trick? Why are you turning this question on me?

“Due to tense political relations?” Cosette chose her words carefully.

Kallias laughed once more, “Basically yes, we cannot come to an agreement about trading taxes on imports. They believe our price is too high, and thus won’t trade with us until we lower it.”

“I see…”

“We’ve sent some members of my extended family to work it out with their emissaries but thus far we’ve had no luck.”

“Is there a particular reason?”

“None besides Beron being stubborn and us wanting to keep the higher tax.”

Ah, so neither side wants to bend, leading to a standstill.

Recalling her tea party with Viviane, “Did you send members from your uncle’s side?”

“Yes, I did.” he nodded, “A couple people were sent from Viviane’s as well. Evelyn and her aunt tried negotiating once but it was all for naught.” 

Cosette blinked.

Damn, there are more of you?

Seeing Cosette’s face Kallias stood up, walking over to a bookshelf, returning with a thick tome, “Here, this will help. I am sure as a faerie who wasn’t born here you don’t know much of our noble lineage.”

Cosette opened up the book.

Finally, a family tree of sorts.

She began flipping through the pages, staring at the High Lords and their respective families that came before Kallias, “Is there a reason why you don’t talk to Beron yourself?”

Between the white and black haired faeries she saw a few with a light brown color. 

He chuckled, “We have, and still do at appropriate meetings, but both of us are busy males. We unfortunately have no time to meet and discuss trading agreements at our leisure.”

“I see…”

It sounds like you just don’t like Beron and don’t want to talk to him.

As she looked through the book, Kallias pulled out a stack of ledgers. Unable to stop her curiosity she glanced over, watching as he flipped between them, filling out a separate form and moving on to the next document.

“What are you doing?” she peeked over.

“Double checking that the ledgers sent to me from our businesses have appropriately reported and accounted for everything.” he gently pushed the paper towards her, “Afterwards I point out overall weaker areas and we discuss those with the onsite managers, as well as our close collaborators during meetings.”

His process is so streamlined. I thought our ledgers were efficient but this is way better.

Cosette already knew what she was going to be changing when she got back to the perfumery.

“When you say ‘our businesses’, are these federally owned?”

“Some yes, others are just ones that me and Viviane started before we came to power. Before we even got together in fact.” Kallias’s face softened, “One time we were stuck in a competition over who could beat the other in the pelts industry.”

“Who won?”

“Viviane.” he scribbled something on a paper, and moved onto the next, “Sweet talked the other opponent into collaborating with her.”

“That’s quite smart.”

If you can’t beat them by yourself, team up with another who views your enemy as their enemy.

“It is.” Kallias agreed, seeing her empty cup of tea, “Feel free to make yourself some more tea if you would like.”

“Thank you.” Cosette stood up, returning the family tome back to its shelf, taking the opportunity to look at the other books there.

“Do any of the titles interest you?”

“‘A History of Winter Court’s Trading Routes’ sounds interesting.”

Although all of these look like they would be worth a read, even the ‘The History of Winter Court’s Fish: Did They Evolve?’

Did faeries believe in evolution?

Kallias laughed at her hesitant glances from him, to the book, “You may read it if you wish.”

Cosette quickly nodded, grabbing the text and placing it on the desk, before walking over to the liquor cabinet. She quickly found the tea, pouring herself a cup.

“Would you like anything, High Lord?”

“What did we agree you would call me by?”

“Kallias…sir.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Just…Kallias.”

“Good.” he grabbed a different pen, his current one running out of ink, “If you may, please pour me some whiskey.”

Cosette froze, before forcing her hand to move and grab a bottle of the liquor and fill his glass.

It wasn’t fair.

The golden brown color swirling before her, beautifully illuminated through the clear glass. 

Why must you like the same things as him?

The liquid filled the glass half full.

Why must you act so similarly?

She looked back at Kallias over her shoulder. 

You’re not him.

He was concentrated over the paperwork before him, stroking his chin, his white hair falling slightly out of place. The sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up slightly as he tapped his finger against the table.

You will never be him.

She went back to the desk, carrying her cup and his glass, carefully placing them down, avoiding any paperwork or books.

Kallias thanked her, taking a sip of his drink, his face shifting to a confused expression, “Which whiskey did you pour into this?”

“The one in the left corner of the cabinet.” Cosette said, the realization hitting her after.

Oh…

Cosette wanted to bury her head in sand. Or snow, she would take either at this point.

“I am so sorry, High Lord, I must have put tea into it.” 

“Tea?”

“Yes, I am used to making whiskey with tea. I must have been so lost in my thoughts I didn’t even notice. I can remake it.”

“No.” Kallias took another sip of the drink, “I like it. I was just curious as I had never tasted it this way before, so I was surprised there was a whiskey in my office I still hadn’t tried.”

Cosette sat back down, her face pink from embarrassment.

“Do you drink yourself?”

“No.”

“Then why is adding tea to whiskey like second nature to you?”

“Because of my father.” she uttered the words before she could stop herself.

Kallias’s hand paused its dance across the desk, “Your father?”

“He always drinks his whiskey with black tea.”

Why am I telling him this? He doesn’t need to know this. He shouldn’t know this. 

Cosette took a small breath, trying to keep her face straight, plastering a smile on.

“Your father has good taste.” Kallias didn’t continue the conversation thread, much to Cosette’s relief, instead returning to explaining the ledgers to her.

She relaxed into the flow of conversation again, sitting by Kallias’s side, listening intently to his lecture.

You will never be him.

Why didn’t it work?

Cosette stared down at the results, the exact same as last time.

“See I told you that this was a pointless endeavor. This whole idea is stupid and borderlining on blasphemy.”

“Father, please, not now.”

“Woodworking is stupid.”

Theo's face looked hurt by the statement.

“And runes, Theo? Next thing we know she’ll be bringing proper witchcraft into Winter Court!”

“Father!” Theo whispered, trying to get the elder to stop, “Runes aren’t like that.”

“They practically are.”

“They are not, they are legal. If they weren’t, the High Lord and Lady would not have permitted this project.”

Cosette took a deep breath. 

Calm. I need to be calm.

“Besides, it’ll work eventually. We just need to keep trying.”

The elder grumbled.

Just stay calm.

“Am I interrupting?” Amelio’s voice pulled Cosette out of her calming ritual.

“No, please come in.” Cosette smiled, hiding any disappointment.

Amelio pulled off the furry cloak he wore, cleaning the remaining snow off in the hallway before stepping into the workshop, his white hair as neat as ever. 

“My people told me they sent back another report. How was it?”

“It went the same as the first time.” Cosette sighed, “We’ll have to reevaluate how we’re approaching this problem.”

I really don’t know why it isn’t working.

Amelio took the papers from her, looking them over with a neutral gaze while the elder and his son continued arguing in the background.

“My partners are beginning to get frustrated themselves.” Amelio said, handing the papers back to her, “We might need to transfer your next experiment to a different farm I work with since this one is requesting the space you occupied back for actual use.”

“I see.” Cosette nodded.

“How long will it take you to come up with a new version to test?”

“About a week I think.”

“You think?”

Cosette tensed at the slight snap in his voice.

“We’ll need a week to get it done.” Cosette repeated, putting more confidence into it.

Amelio nodded, “Good.”

The elder huffed, sitting down at a workbench, disgruntled. Theo nervously glanced between Cosette and his father.

Amelio gave Cosette a look, turning to leave, “Good luck.”

Cosette exhaled once Amelio was gone, turning to the two remaining men.

“Theo, why don’t you go unload the prototypes that were sent back.” Cosette tried to keep her voice even, “Sir, you’ve had a long day, why not take a small rest?”

The elder glared at her.

She smiled back.

“Fine.” Theo’s father stood up, stomping out of the workshop, not bidding either of them goodbye.

“I am sorry about him.” Theo rubbed his neck apologetically.

I know, you’ve said that countless times now.

Cosette shook her head, “It’s fine…let’s just get to work, okay?”

Theo agreed, the two of them unpacking the returned ‘spirit homes’, and beginning the grueling work of revisions.

Theo sat down across Cosette who was staring at the prototype’s design plans, pushing a cup of tea towards her.

She simply nodded in acknowledgement. It was now 10pm, and they were stumped. 

Theo traced his cravings on one of the prototypes they had put on the table to try and analyze it, his concentration wavering as exhaustion began setting in.

“You know, I have been chatting with some of the other businesses in the area. The workshop across the street specializes in creating magical items. I got to witness them loading up their products to be sent out to actual stores today.” Theo spoke up, looking at Cosette tentatively.

She hummed in response.

“They had these beautiful wands, super detailed. The staffs are better visually in my opinion though. They added little stones to them.” Theo continued, “I even got to talk to one of the master woodworkers.”

Theo was clearly fangirling.

How did your father raise you to love this work, yet he clearly hates it himself?

“That’s great Theo.” Cosette rubbed the tiredness from her eyes, “What did you two talk about?”

“He told me a bit about how they made the wands.” Theo smiled, “Apparently they weave pieces of wood together to create the wand itself, adding various materials in between the flexible branches like feathers or crystal powder. That way the wand’s ability as a conductor is maxed out!”

Cosette paused, flipping through the book Medea gave her to the page about wands.

‘The materials are woven together to form sticks of various sizes.’

She skimmed the page again,

‘Magic boxes; sometimes also referred to as a holder, is a magical artifact built entirely out of wood or other natural materials, in a rigid, strict fashion, that encases inputted magic and retains it, preventing it from moving or reacting with anything…’

Wood encases and prevents energy from moving or reacting with anything. Yet the wands are also made out of wood and still work as a conductor-

Cosette laughed. She was either completely sleep-deprived or extremely stupid for not realizing this sooner.

Well, not stupid.

She was willing to give herself some leeway for not understanding faerie magic.

“Theo, you’re a genius.” 

“I am?” Theo puffed out his chest with pride, unsure what he did well, but still proud.

“The problem wasn’t the wood or the runes, it was how we were building it. The actual foundation of the prototype. The way it is built matters. We built it like a house.” Cosette pointed at the design documents, “It’s rigid, strong and like a box. It doesn’t permit the blessing to actually move or do anything. It’s encased, trapped, unable to move into the ground surrounding it, and thus not encouraging the growth of the pink root.”

“So you’re saying…” Theo glanced at the couple prototypes they had been analyzing, “These would still hold the power of a spirit? It’s just in there?”

“In theory, yes.”

I am not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“We need to weave it. Still use wood, as it is a conduit material for magic, but instead of just binding wood together using nails, or carving out a home inside a wooden block, we will weave it. Like a basket.”

Theo’s eyes lit up at the idea, “We shouldn’t use pine wood then, it’s not as good for weaving. Though, we can still use the conifers from them in theory, to make the ‘house’ cozy for the spirit.”

“Any suggestions for what we use instead?”

“Willow wood is our best shot.” Theo said, “I’ll get in touch with our supplier, to see if they’re willing to switch from providing us pine.”

“Perfect.” Cosette smiled.

Finally, some progress. A breakthrough of sorts!

Cosette paused, faced with a miniscule problem.

Where were they going to find out how to weave a ‘spirit home’ properly?

Next: Chapter 29 - To Velaris!

Back: Chapter 27 - Failure Is the Path to Success

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[creedslove]

🌹Anon here! Sadly things with my step sister hasn't gotten any better, she has blocked my step Dad and everyone on his side, so we cannot contact her whatsover. It has been really difficult to navigate, she is only 11, and we can only pray she comes back to us eventually. Sob story aside, could I get some sweet Dave fluff? Him just being a great dad to his newborn baby. A mercernary with a newborn just making pancakes shirtless while carring the baby in one of those fabric wrap slings. Please and thank you ♥️

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: hi my darling 🌹 anon, it's good seeing you here, although the news aren't the best! I'm so sad to know your step dad's and his daughter's situation isn't great that way! It really sucks, she's so young she doesn't even have a clue about how devastating her behavior towards him is, but hopefully things will work out! I hope they can settle things down and work on their father-daughter relationship properly! I'll be rooting for them, and keep us updated whenever you can, alright?! Love you!

• when you woke up, the first thing was to look for Dave on his side of the bed, but it was empty and cold, meaning he had been up for a while; you checked on the clock and of course he's been up for ages, he still follows his military old habits, so you decided to get up

• but before doing anything else, you went over to your baby's room, wanting to check on little Davie, the little miracle that come over to give Dave's life a new meaning, along with you, and of course he couldn't pass up the opportunity to name his baby boy after himself when you offered it, and from that day on, you had your Dave, soon-to-be husband, and your sweet little Davie

• but Davie wasn't really in his crib, so you paid attention to your surroundings and of course you could hear soft giggles and a delicious smell of pancakes coming from downstairs, so you took the opportunity to freshen up in the bathroom and take some time to wake up before going to your family

• and once you got to the kitchen, of course you found Dave still shirtless, messy bed hair, working on his pancakes as Davie watched everything curiously from his comfortable carrier sling that made him look like the cutest kangaroo baby you'd ever seen

• Davie cooed and giggled, amazed at what his daddy was doing, he didn't actually understand, but he liked the sound of it and once you got closer and greeted your boys, you were welcomed by the sweetest smile you'd ever seen

"here honey, let me handle him, so you can make your pancakes"

• you offered carefully, knowing Dave was handy but still worried to have his son so close to the stove, you quickly helped him untangle your baby from the sling and held him into his arms

"are you hungry for daddy's pancakes, baby? Pancakes are his thing, he makes the best ones in the world!"

• and it was true; Dave's pancakes were delicious and he was great at it, there was a time he would make his daughters from his first marriage some every single Saturday morning, and they'd cheer up and talk about how daddy was the best! Unfortunately, that stopped after his and Carol's traumatic divorce and things took a downhill turn and Dave lost that connection once they got too old for that or just didn't seem so interested in spending time with him

• but things changed again when he began dating you: first of all, you liked his pancakes, and you loved watching him make them. He was always so attentive and focused and god, he looked too handsome doing the most domestic things

• and once you got pregnant, Dave noticed you enjoyed his domestic presence even more: unlike Carol who always complained about how his cologne or aftershave made her nauseous, you just craved his presence, you wanted to be all over him the entire time, and Dave loved that, you two bonded during a time he honestly thought couples drifted apart from his experience, it was magical, and luckily to him, that bond didn't break once little David was born, quite the opposite, the three of you became a stronger little family together

• and he couldn't express how much he loved that, how important it was, he still went out, did his dangerous job and went back home with his pocket full of money, but if there was something he would always do for his family, was definitely making pancakes for his beautiful family 💗

____

[triplesilverstar]

An interview and a Vash Sandwich what's to complain about

Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X Wolfwood, Vash X F!Reader, Wolfwood X F!Reader,  Vash X F!Reader X Wolfwood

CW: Anal sex, voyeurism, penis in vaginal sex, fingering, belly bulge, mentions of abusive relationships, threesomes, Awkward flirting, double blow jobs, sloppy blow jobs, awkward pinning, cum eating, smoking

Word count: 4780

A/N: Chapter 6 of my roommates series, don’t worry I’m not done yet. Just taking a break for October

Over the next week when you weren’t at work you were applying at other companies, some of them you knew weren’t even hiring, as well as some outside of your area of expertise. After all at this point, you were willing to take another job even if it paid less just to get away from that area of the city, sitting on the couch between the boys that Saturday night as you scoured the job bank listings again. 

“Put it down, Little Bear.” Nicholas has his legs on the ground in front of him for once, fingers tapping on the controller buttons. 

“He’s right.” Vash agrees, sitting in a similar fashion the corner of his tongue sticking out as he taps away at his own controller. 

“Son of a-” hissing from Nicholas while Vash smirks, and you just keep sitting cross-legged on the middle cushion. 

“Shouldn’t have let yourself get distracted~” Taking the lead in the race the two are having on the TV screen you giggle to yourself. What an odd trio the three of you are, all of you either in your mid to late twenties and here you are playing video games and having a few drinks at home on a Saturday night. 

If you were still with Henry no doubt you’d be downtown bar hopping or something similar, giving your head a shake to dislodge those thoughts. Almost jumping as Vash gives a ‘Whoop’ when he wins raising the controller above his head. 

“Yea, yea, if this was Mario Kart I would have won.” You just laugh as Nicholas sulks leaning back against the cushions, while Vash turns and sticks his tongue out at him. 

You snort at that, enjoying their childishness, and decide to join in before closing your laptop. “Say who?” Teasing Nicholas as you bang your knee against his thigh, you don’t miss how his eyes follow the movement. “Last time the three of us played I won the three tournaments we did.” 

“Yea, cus you had the drift assist on and didn’t know it.” Vash laughs wrapping an arm around you while Nicholas joins in and you’re left twitching your nose in annoyance. You’re about to retort when your laptop dings with a notification of a new email, glancing downwards and both boys crane their necks over your shoulders to look at the screen.

Nosey. 

However, you can’t fully blame them for being curious since you still haven’t given them an answer about the relationship yet. They haven’t been pressuring you either but you have noticed they’ve been hovering a bit more, interested in how you’re doing which makes sense after the bombshell in the grocery store. 

“It’s from Saverem Inc” you whisper, one of the few places you applied to and were expecting to hear absolutely nothing from. Saverem Inc was one of the largest and most successful companies in the city, and it was slowly growing to be a national company, all within the span of the last decade. While you stare at the screen you miss the look Nicholas shoots over your head at Vash who just smiles sheepishly. Reading through the email, you feel the confusion growing on your face, as well as a sense of giddiness. 

“I have an interview for Tuesday morning.” For the first time in weeks, your heart feels light, squealing as you grab each of the boy's hands. Finally looking at both of them as your grin becomes infectious which you can only assume is because they’re happy for you. You missed the fact they both started grinning because you’re starting to smile more like the person they’ve come to know and in one of their cases come to love while the other is getting there. “I need to call and book Tuesday off for the interview.” Like a switch you let go of their hands, looking for your cell phone. 

Nicholas rolls his eyes before placing both his wide palms on your shoulders and pushing you back against the couch. “Hang on there, it’s Saturday night.” Nodding towards Vash to take your laptop away you look a little chagrined at him, a shy smile in place because of your excitement. 

“You can deal with that Monday.” He uses his arm to pull you towards him now that Vash has your laptop placed safely on the coffee table in front of him. Pressing his lips to your face just beside your eye he grins. “Now how about a drink or two with us tonight and we switch to Mario Kart? Cept this time we’ll take the auto drift off and see how you do.” 

That does sound like a good idea and you should try and relax, having been stressed over not getting a single message back with all the applications and resumes you’ve been sending off. Turning your head you catch Nicholas in a quick kiss, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours however briefly. “Yes Sir, Mr. Nico Sir.” You laugh with a mock salute while he pushes you away with a ruffle of your hair. 

Nicholas rolls his shoulder standing and approaching the console to switch the game over and set up the third controller. Vash closes the distance, leaning close and pressing the tip of his nose against yours. “I’m glad you have an interview, Babe. Just be yourself and I know you’ll do just fine.” A peck to your nose before Nicholas rejoins you and the three of you start the game. 

Laughing throughout the night and having a few drinks, while gaming with the boys. During smoke breaks for Nico you find yourself often under Vash, his mouth hot on yours, and your tongues slide against one another. Your hands in his hair, dragging along his scalp and he grinds his lean body into your plush one. “I don’t think I can get enough of you.” Mumbled one round between kisses, and it makes you giggle.

“Good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere” you answer against his lips. Both of them make you feel cherished, wanted, and even loved, and while you still haven’t given them an answer about joining the relationship you know what you want with these two. The sex is just a bonus, hearing the patio door slide open as you both break more apart to look at Nicholas who shivers at the temperature difference. 

“Can’t get enough of you either Handsome.” Leaning back in his haunches Vash grins, giving you a hand so you can sit upright again while Nicholas removes his sandals. 

“Keep saying that pretty boy, don’t think I don’t watch you two through the window.” Glancing down you can see the visible bulge in his sweatpants, A wolfish grin on his face as he gripped his hard on showing the firm outline. 

“Pervert” you laugh, but preen as he leans down to kiss you swiping his tongue across your lip just to give you a taste before moving on to Vash for a longer kiss that you moan watching. 

“A pervert you’re going to bed with tonight.” He fires back and you just grin as the three of you resume what you were doing, sure enough when you do shut down for the night you do join both of them in bed falling asleep after sucking Nicholas off while Vash fucked him senseless. 

When Tuesday morning came, you woke up at a decent hour and showered heading for the kitchen in some loose clothes to grab breakfast so you don’t accidentally spill or drop anything on yourself and need to change again. 

Pausing at the sight of Vash in the kitchen working away at a pan. “Um, good morning” hesitant in your greeting since Nicholas worked last night, Vash doesn’t usually stay over when it’s just you. 

With a flourish and a bounce in his step, Vash turns with an apron printed with the words ‘I’m either Hungry or Horny, and if I’m wearing this it isn’t the first one’ printed on it. “Good morning! I thought I’d come over to see you off before your interview.” A quick press of lips to your cheek and Vash is back at the stove pointing at the countertop. You’re preferred coffee mug is sitting there, and you can see the steam rising from it, taking a sip as you raise it to your lips, it’s also done how you like it. 

“Jesus Vash, this is almost a little overboard don’t you think?” Questioning softly as you look at the spread he’s finishing, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, it’s almost like he’s cooked a meal for six or seven instead of what you can only assume is you, and later him and Nicholas once he gets home. 

“Nope” popping the ‘P’ and making a motion for you to serve yourself a plate. “I get the feeling today you’ll need the energy, plus I wanted to do something nice for you Babe.” That really does warm your heart as you take a plate and start to eat it, humming in delight, damn Vash is a good cook. 

“If I didn’t already have a great deal of affection for you, these eggs would make me ask you to marry me.” You moan as they seem to just melt on your tongue. “All you you do nice things all the time for me.” 

“Oh be still my thundering heart.” He smirks with a fake fluttering of his eyelashes, and a hand to his chest. “Besides, don’t they say the way to a man’s heart is his stomach? Trust me Babe you’ve never seen just how much Nico can actually eat.” 

Grinning you smirk slicing the bacon up “If it’s his stomach is that why you like his ass so much? Quicker access.” That makes Vash burst out laughing doubling over and slapping a hand on the counter trying to catch his breath. 

“I need to tell him that one.” Tears line his eyes as you keep eating the breakfast Vash made, plate finished you press a real kiss to his lips before rinsing the dish and placing it in the dishwasher before heading to your room to get ready. 

While you’re getting dressed in an interview-appropriate outfit, Wolfwood slips through the door, the smell of freshly cooked food leading him to the kitchen and seeing a familiar blond mop of hair in his kitchen.

Smirking Wolfwood moves closer as silently as he can before reaching down to grab both ass cheeks in his hands. “Hm, I like my buns fresh squeezed.” Making Vash yelp and jump before swatting him. Wolfwood laughs at the lighthearted smacks, wrapping his broad arms around his lover and leaning his chin on Vash’s shoulder. “She leave yet?” 

“No, getting changed. She ate already though, and good morning mister Nico.” Wolfwood hums as Vash answers nuzzling into the warmth of his lover's neck.

Pausing for a moment before asking as quietly as he can in the kitchen now aware you might appear at any moment. “Are you going to tell her?” 

The briefest flinch of a shoulder under his chin and Wolfwood sighs “Tell her what?” Pretending Vash has no idea what he’s talking about, has him pressing his forehead against the side of his head. 

“You know what I’m talking about Vash. You got her the interview.” His voice rumbled against the skin and shaved part of his head.

“No. She did that herself. I just… Made sure when they looked at her resume after the initial screening that they skipped the social media check. She shouldn’t be losing job opportunities because that ex of hers is dragging her name through the mud.” Placing the spatula in his hand on the counter finally finished cooking and turned in Wolfwood's embrace to return it. A quick peck, before running his fingers through those dark locks and looking into his tired eyes. “Have some faith in our little lady. She just got a helping hand.” 

Huffing, but Wolfwood did find it hard to stay mad at his skinny blond lover “I do. I still think you should tell her.”

“I’ll tell her if she gets the job.” Whispering before gliding his lips across Wolfwood’s tasting the cigarette he must have finished before coming inside the building. The smell of fuel staining his clothes, even if Vash knew the tanned man had changed after his shift before coming home. 

“Hey, Handsome, hope working wasn’t too rough last night.” The pair parting to see you leaning against the wall and sliding your flats on. Wolfwood felt his cock twitch in his pants, wondering if he or Vash could convince you to let one of them fuck you in that skirt later that flowed over your hips just right. 

“Morning Little Bear. It was fine, I see someone’s been busy here.” Hearing you laugh he smiled releasing Vash and stepping closer to you noticing your makeup was done already. “You want a kiss for good luck? I don’t wanna ruin your make up though.” 

That just makes you giggle more, nodding. “If a little kiss was going to ruin my make up we have problems.” Dragging your knuckles against the side of his face he grinned down at you. “I won’t say no to a good luck kiss though.” Pushing yourself up to your tiptoes to close the distance. 

Wolfwood didn’t linger or deepen the kiss, just pressed his own lips against yours and hummed low in his throat. Working on his own surprise for his two lovers as far as work went. Pulling away, Vash was glued to his side wedging himself in between your bodies for a kiss of his own. “You don’t need the luck Babe. Just do your best.” 

“Thanks you two. I’ll see you later.” Grabbing your bag and heading out the moment the door closed Wolfwood whistled.

“Hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave.” Turning his attention to Vash and wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“She does have a nice butt.” He agreed, biting his bottom lip.

“Think she’d let one of us fuck her in that skirt?” A swat to his ass, before Vash turned to grab a plate of food, getting Wolfwood to join him. In no time at all what you had thought was a mountain of food cleared away between the duo, dishwasher loaded, and the two of them heading into the bedroom to get some sleep.

Later that evening sitting on the couch, the pair heard as you came back heading right for your room and a short while later reappearing in your lounge clothes and looking somewhat exhausted with your laptop. Plopping down beside them and getting to work on something tapping away. 

“That bad?” Nicholas asked, an arm wrapped around Vash who was leaning against his chest. 

“Huh?” You looked almost dazed before you focused back on them. “Oh no. It was just, a lot. I had like several rounds of interviews with different people.” Running a hand through your hair before going back to your laptop. “At least I know I don’t have to go back, I was just told if I was selected I’d be contacted to start the hiring process.” 

“That’s good then Babe. I’m proud of you.” Vash mumbled from where his face was mashed against Nicholas’s chest. 

“So why are you on your laptop?” Nicholas felt one of his eyebrows raising, there was no way you were going back to job searching already. Were you?”

“Oh. I’m sending my thank you email for the interview.” Your fingers are moving swiftly across the keys, and Nicholas finds himself swallowing watching those small hands of yours. 

“Thank you email?” Confused as he says it and you don’t even lift your head from your screen.

“Yea. You know. Thanking them for the interview and taking the time from their day for the interview, that kind of thing.” Waving one hand at the duo, while Vash just settles more against Nicholas.

“I. Have never done that.” Tumbling from the dark-haired man, incredulous that people do that sort of thing.

“What” You seem to be wide awake now as your head flicks up, staring right at him

“Sorry, but I’m a mechanic. It comes down to I fix engines, I’m not going to thank someone for talking to me to see if my skills are real or not.” Shrugging his shoulders and feeling Vash chuckling against his side, listening to the exchange.

“Oh Nico.” You laugh and seem to finish typing, your eyes scanning the words before hitting send and closing the laptop. “Sometimes I think we really are so different.” Looking at the pair and feeling the muscles of your face stretch as you grin. “Can I join you two?” 

A nod from Vash, who rolls more so his head is resting in Nicholas lap, and you’re crawling atop him, dropping your weight and letting your head settle against his chest. Sighing as you hear his steady heartbeat under your ear. 

Two hands trail down your side as Vash slips his fingers under your shirt to feel your bare skin, and you can see one of Nicholas’s large palms rubbing the blond’s face. As you relax more you find one of your hands moving to push up under the hem of Nicholas’s sweater and rub across his toned belly, fingers finding his happy trail and running your fingers through it. 

The three of you stay like that for some time, and you slowly feel Vash getting hard against your belly. Licking your lips. “You two wanna fool around tonight?” 

“I wanted to ask if one of us could fuck you in that skirt but you changed out of it.” Snickering as Nicholas deadpans that, you lift your head to see the pupils in Vash’s eyes growing wider, a slight pink on his cheeks. 

“Maybe next time Handsome, the idea of one of you using it like a handle while you fuck me doggy style sounds appealing.” Nicholas hissing as you giggle, that comment makes his hips jerking making both you and Vash move.

“Damn Little Bear. One of these days I am gonna sink my cock in one of those tight holes of yours and ruin you.” Your pussy clenching and you hear Vash moan from under you, no doubt him liking the idea of seeing Nicholas pounding into you having been living in his head for a while. 

“You can both think whatever you. Tonight I wanna watch you cum around my cock on your back while I take care of you. What do you think of that?” Vash has moved his hands so one of them is toying with the back of your bra and the over has slipped under the waistband of your sweats kneading one of your butt cheeks. 

“I like the sound of that.” Damn, you really do, feeling the moisture starting to pool inside your core. 

“Hm, maybe while you’re in her, I’ll be in you. Using you like a toy to fuck her senseless.” That really has your pussy throbbing and clenching around nothing, the idea of seeing both of them above you makes you feel dizzy. 

“Please” you beg voice desperate slipping your hand down Nicholas’s pants to grip his dick directly, he’s a warm solid mass of flesh under your palm. 

“Aw, are you begging Little Bear? I think I like hearing you beg for us.” His voice has taken on that husky edge that makes you flood your panties every time, and Vash is jerking his body up against yours moaning. 

“Bedroom?” You’ve barely gotten started and Vash sounds broken already, nodding you release Nicholas’s cock pressing your lips over Vash’s clothed chest before lifting yourself off him. 

The walk to the bedroom marked with the three of you helping one another strip from your clothes, hands groping bare skin. The sounds of smacks and slaps of tissue ringing in the air as you go, and you let out a long salacious moan when Nicholas slips one of those thick digits in your pussy while sliding your underwear down your hips. 

Giving it a swirl inside your tight walls up to his knuckle before removing it, and placing it right in his mouth. His head tilts back as he sucks at the wet digit moaning around his finger, his Adam's apple bobbing as he pulls his hand from his mouth with a pop. “Such a sweet taste Little Bear. Maybe I should have called you my little honey pot instead.” His gruff voice rumbles out of him, and you feel another squeeze of your inner walls. 

You didn’t know that just hearing something like that from him could get you so wet, little out a little whimper as those dark eyes of his seemed to pierce your soul. A nip to the side of your neck, and a press of his hips to your ass from Vash has you moving again. His cock twitching against your skin and you know he’s eager to sink into you. One of his hands ghosts over your belly and down to the apex of your thighs so he can lightly finger you while walking the rest of the way to the bedroom. 

“So wet Babe. Hm, and feeling relaxed already, I can’t wait to watch you covered in sweat while I slam into that pretty pussy of yours.” Licking the skin of your neck as he guides you to the bed before giving you a light shove onto the mattress. 

Crawling up so you can place your head against the pillows and leaving room for both men to join you. Fingering yourself as Vash and Nicholas stand at the foot of the bed, hands on each other's dicks pumping one another while their tongues tangle together in a sloppy open mouth kiss. Their builds are similar but such a contrast, Vash with his lean wiry muscles and pale skin while Nicholas is broad and thick his muscles well defined from his job and working out, covered in a tan skin that makes you think of the warmth of the desert. 

And you somehow ended up in their bed. Panting as you add a finger to your core, watching them part a thin line of saliva connecting them together as Vash’s tongue hangs out over his lips. A slap to his butt cheeks while Nicholas laughs. “Condoms?” Called to you to grab two from the nightstand next to the bed, leaning over you hear a moan, looking over your shoulder and giving your booty a shake for their enjoyment before tossing them the condoms they wanted. 

“No prep for Vash tonight?” Reaching up to push some of your hair from your face for Nicholas to grin, sliding the condom down his thick shaft before making Vash turn and parting his butt with both hands. A red heart-shaped plug winking at you from his between his cheeks. “Ah. I guess you were more prepared than I was.” Laughing as Vash turns back around before crawling up the bed towards you. 

“Or maybe I like being stuffed” throwing your head back to laugh as Vash wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you sigh as his dry lips press against your belly drawing your attention back to him. Kneeling between your thighs and looking at you like you’re something he finds precious. “Just like I know you like being stuffed.” Snorting at how candid he is. And right. 

“Just by my two favorite men.” Wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, slotting your mouths together, and tasting Nicholas on his tongue while Vash prods at your slit with the head of his wrapped cock. Smearing your juices around while you make out before sinking into your tight heat. He feels wonderful and you’re loose enough for him to go balls deep on the first thrust filling you completely. 

“I know you do Babe, always feel so good around my cock. Like a glove.” Setting an easy pace as he rolls his hips into you, slowly building the fire in your core and you hum. Focusing on the sensation of him throbbing inside your walls as you clench and unclench around him. Parts of his dick massaging your cunt as the veins twitch, and the ribbed condom adds to the pleasure he’s giving you. His hands playing with your tits and his thumbs flicking your nipples in time to his thrusts, and you’re panting in almost no time. 

“Alright you two, I’m gonna get myself in that tight hole of Vash’s so stop moving for a few minutes.” You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and shoving Vash’s face against your breasts so you can at least watch Nicholas’s face as he disappears in Vash’s entrance. 

Those dark eyes focused on working the toy from your shared partner's butt makes you pulse around Vash who moans around your nipple that he’s licking and sucking. Shuddering as the toy pops free and you coo at him as your fingers drag along his skull. “So good Baby. You feel so good and Nico is gonna make you feel good too.” 

Nicholas flicks his eyes at you, blowing you a kiss while pumping his cock before lining himself up with Vash’s entrance and starting to work himself in. The reaction is instant as Vash groans, his warm breath blowing across your damp skin making you moan yourself as your breasts pebble and you clench hard around his length. Shaking gently as Nicholas moves his dick in and out of his boyfriend with practiced ease, large hands rubbing his lower back where it turns into his ass. Giving it a smack making both of you and Vash moan as his shaft pluses in your tight heat. “Fuck Vash, you’re clenching so tight like you want me to cum before we even get started.”

Vash just whimpers his body pressing harder against yours, the hairs at his base rubbing your clit deliciously as the inferno in your core burns brighter. “Fuck, Nico. I’m close already.” You honestly hadn’t expected your first orgasm to be on the horizon that quickly, almost as if it snuck up on you. 

“Don’t hold back Little Bear, Vash said he’d take care of you tonight so cum as much as you want.” Ground out through his teeth and you can see the sweat slowly forming on his chest and making the hairs on it gleam. His hips stilling to let Vash adjust to his girth, while Vash keeps writhing against you. You listen to Nicholas and let yourself go, spasming around Vash’s length and dragging your nails against his scalp making him moan. 

“That’s it, cum around Vash you sexy thing. Fuck you two are so hot, milk that cock of his Little Bear.” You’re shaking under his gaze, feeling Vash pushing your hands from his head and releasing your breast with a pop. Moving upwards so his face is over yours.

“That’s it Babe. You feel so good” Purring before kissing you, his tongue plundering your mouth as Nicholas grabs your legs, lifting them so you’re wrapped around Vash and your heels are on the outside of his thighs. 

“Now relax, because I’m gonna do what I said and use Vash to fuck you senseless.” Nicholas sets a brutal pace from that start that has Vash breaking the kiss to mewl, both your tight walls around his cock and having his ass filled has him reeling.

The movement of his hips has Vash rutting into your pussy hard and deep making you see stars and your second orgasm of the night is fast approaching. Screaming in pleasure as your core pulses, and you feel more pressure against your clit. Eyes narrowed to see Nicholas is pressing harder against Vash’s back, shoving you more into the mattress those deep eyes of his watching you intently. Leaning closer and closer so Vash is panting against your face, dick throbbing like mad inside of you. 

You cum for a second time as Nicholas is able to get the angle just right to lick your lips next to Vash’s face. Moaning as the words “Good girl” echo in your ears, having fallen from Nicholas’s lips. 

The pair aren’t done, and by the end of the night, you can barely feel your cunt and your legs are sore. Vash did take care of you, wiping your skin down and getting you to drink after everything was done. Whispers of how good you were pressed into your skin by his soft lips, and you fell asleep against Nicholas’s chest with Vash pressed against yours.

Chapter 5 : Chapter 7

Dividers

[windowlessatmosphere]

Something Real

Summary: Sky is thrilled to have his very first internship, earned entirely on his own. This is dampened slightly by the fact that he keeps getting hit on by the boss' son. When he eventually decides to drop in the fact that he has a boyfriend, his entire workplace decides that he must be making the whole thing up. Sky's not really sure whether he should be more amused or offended. Prapai has chosen offended.

It was a good feeling, to have done it on his own.

Prapai had offered to connect him with multiple architecture firms, and Payu had all but straight up told him he could come work with him.

He’d done it on his own, though.

His grades, his interview, and his letters of reference had been enough, and he had finally started his first internship. Rain had secured one, too, though not at the same firm. Not at Payu’s firm, either, much to Payu’s disappointment and Rain’s insistence.

So, they wouldn’t be working together. That was fine. Sky had already made a few friends, mostly the other interns, as well as a few of the assistants.

It had been a great experience, overall, and he was learning a lot. His resume wouldn’t suffer either, what with the company’s reputation in the industry. There was only one problem, really.

“He’s so annoying,” Sky complained, stuffing his mouth with noodles.

“Just tell him you have a boyfriend,” Rain suggested, rolling his eyes.

“He hasn't actually done anything yet,” Sky replied moodily. “He just keeps making these weird comments.”

“Just bring it up in passing, then,” Rain pivoted. “Maybe he’ll drop it.”

Sky shrugged, considering it. It was a fair point, after all, just one he hadn’t gotten the chance to try. Win had been a slight annoyance since the beginning of his internship, but he’d never really stuck around long enough to have an actual conversation.

Eventually, though, there’d be an opportunity for Sky to mention it, and then things would resolve themselves.

-----

“You look nice today.” Win flashed him a smile as he walked by, passing him before Sky could open his mouth to reply.

He glanced down at his outfit, trying to gauge whether he looked different enough today to elicit a genuine compliment, or if it was definitely flirting.

“You don’t look that nice,” Jem deadpanned, not even sparing a glance at him.

He rolled his eyes. He was wearing a new shirt today. Maybe that was it.

-----

“How about Sky?” Win suggested, fixing him with a beaming look. “He’s done so well on all his current projects.”

Sky’s boss, Sakda, fixed him with an evaluating look before agreeing with a slight nod. The initial rush of pride faded quickly. While Win was technically just a junior architect, the fact remained that his father owned the company, and Sakda was likely just agreeing with him out of deference.

Of course, there was the possibility that he was impressed with Sky’s work, but that was nearly impossible to tell. With the amount of praise Win heaped on Sky, the lines were far too blurred.

-----

“We should have coffee sometime,” Win suggested, leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

“We’re having coffee right now,” Sky pointed out, raising his own mug with a lifted brow.

Win let out a short laugh, giving him a fond smile.

“Really, though,” he continued. “Maybe on Saturday?”

Sky blinked, trying to figure out if that constituted a date or just a friendly hang-out.

“I can’t this Saturday,” he decided. “I’m going to the beach with my boyfriend.”

Win was silent for a moment. “Oh,” he said, sounding caught off guard. “Yeah. Maybe another time.”

Sky nodded, and they made light chitchat for a bit until Win made an excuse and dashed off somewhere. Sky let out a breath, the tension in his chest easing a bit now that the awkwardness had dissipated. He shot off a text to Rain with an update and immediately got back a bunch of thumbs-up emojis.

-----

“Excuse me,” he heard a voice call as he walked through the front doors. “You tell me nothing,” Jem informed him, pulling on his arm.

“Good morning to you,” he responded, a light tone of amusement clear in his words.

“Since when do you have a boyfriend?” she asked accusatorily.

“For like…two years?” he replied, furrowing his brow. “We’ve talked about him,” Sky said. They must have talked about him. “P’Pai,” he prompted her, tilting his head.

“He’s your boyfriend?” Jem asked, sounding surprised. Sky nodded, and she continued, “I thought he was just a friend.”

“Why?” Sky asked, laughing a little as they got on the elevator.

“You complain about him a lot,” she pointed out.

“He deserves it,” Sky defended himself. “Besides, he’s used to it.” The elevator doors opened, and they got out, heading to their desks.

“Show me a picture,” she said, just as they were passing Ying’s desk.

“A picture of what?” Ying interjected. “Sky’s boyfriend?”

“Why does everybody know about this?” Sky wanted to know.

“You turned Win down,” Ying pointed out.

“Finally,” Jem butted in.

“And nobody even knew you had a boyfriend.”

“Exactly,” Jem agreed. “So. Picture.”

Sky sighed, sliding his phone out of his pocket and pulling up his photos. He scrolled through a couple recent ones of the two of them before landing on one of Prapai at the park. Sky had taken it when they’d gone for a picnic, and Pai was smiling widely at the camera. It was a nice picture.

“He’s cute!” Ying said approvingly, while Jem raised a suggestive eyebrow in lieu of a comment.

“What does he do?” Jem asked, nodding towards Sky’s phone.

“He’s in business,” Sky said vaguely, continuing when Jem and Ying both stared him down. “He works for his dad’s company.”

“Who does?” Alpha’s voice came from behind him, and Sky groaned internally. 

There was really very little actual competition in the internship program. Axis Architecture encouraged a collaborative atmosphere of teamwork and communication–according to the website, anyway. Alpha, however, had made it her mission to compete with Sky at every opportunity, despite his complete and total lack of interest in reciprocating.

“Sky’s boyfriend,” Ying chimed in, ignoring both Jem and Sky’s fervent looks to say nothing.

“I heard about that,” Alpha gave him a tight smile. “Odd we hadn’t heard about him before,” she commented with a slight shrug. Sky resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Sue him for not bringing his personal life into work.

“We should probably get going,” Jem interjected, not bothering to give Alpha a fake smile. “I need to go over some things with Sky before the morning meeting.”

Sky confirmed the half-truth, figuring she probably did want to go over some things. They were just likely to be completely unrelated to work. They walked off, waiting until they were completely out of earshot before either of them spoke.

“She’s the worst,” Jem informed him, as though he was unaware. “And so are you.”

“Hey,” Sky protested.

“You tell me nothing,” she reminded him.

“I tell you things,” he defended himself. “You just assume other things.”

“Fine, fine.” She waved him off. “So tell me things, then.”

“Like…?”

“Like, what’s he like?” She rolled her eyes at him.

“He’s great,” Sky answered automatically. “He’s sweet, thoughtful, supportive, he’s got a great relationship with his family—”

“He’s hot,” Jem interjected.

“Sure,” Sky allowed. “We communicate well, and he’s in touch with his emotions and—”

“Rich,” Jem added, causing Sky to furrow his brow.

“Yes?” It came out as somewhat of a question.

“Hobbies?” she questioned, squinting her eyes as she studied Sky.

“I mean…” Sky thought about it for a moment. “He rides motorcycles? And he likes working out.”

Jem sighed.

“I support you,” she said, completely unprompted.

“Thank you?”

“And I totally get it,” she continued. “You don’t like Win, but he’s still the boss’ son. It’s cool.”

“Okay?” he replied.

“But maybe dial it back a little with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing,” she suggested. “It’s a good idea,” she hurried to explain. “But you don’t need to make him hot and rich and into motorcycles and emotionally available.”

Sky blinked.

“I’m not—” he started.

“It’s fine,” she reassured him, giving him a hard pat on the back. “I get it.”

She walked off, leaving Sky utterly confused and standing by himself. Win rounded the corner and spotted him, giving him an awkward nod before passing him without making eye contact.

So. At least that was happening.

Jem had some weird idea that Prapai…didn’t exist? Wasn’t actually dating him? Wasn’t actually that great? At this point, he wasn’t too sure. Regardless, it would be fine. He would clear things up with her later, if she was still confused, and Win would leave him alone, and everything would be fine.

-----

His workplace had not gotten the memo.

For the rest of the day, despite the hushed voices, he heard far too many people whispering when he walked by. Speculating over whether he had a boyfriend or not, whether he’d grabbed some guy’s picture off Instagram and made the whole thing up, whether Win had been harassing him so much that it had warranted that.

Alpha was the worst of them all, of course, not bothering to make her comments to anyone other than Sky. She didn’t come right out and say it, but it was clear she thought Sky was full of shit and wanted everyone else to think so, too.

It was infuriating, especially so because no one—excluding Jem—had actually accused him of lying about anything. He couldn’t exactly start brandishing pictures of him with Prapai at people when they were just talking amongst themselves.

I mean, he could. It just probably wouldn’t go that well.

“So, Sky,” an incredibly annoying voice interrupted his musing. He sighed, bracing himself before turning to face Alpha.

“Yes?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to keep his exasperation from bleeding into his tone.

“I’ve been hearing so much about your boyfriend lately.” The amount of false brightness in her tone was insufferable. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

Sky resisted the urge to laugh. Like that was happening. His disbelief must have been evident on his face, though, as she clarified, “You’ll be bringing him to the gala, right? Everybody gets a plus one.”

He racked his brain, finally pulling up a vague memory of a quickly-skimmed email from a while ago.

“Right,” he said. “The gala.”

“Everyone’s so excited to meet him,” she emphasized, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“Well,” he replied. “He’ll be there.”

-----

“I can’t be there.”

“P’Pai!”

“I’m sorry,” Prapai said, looking contrite. “If you had mentioned something sooner…” Sky shot him a withering glare. “I am sorry,” he reiterated. “But I’ll be in London that whole week for work. It’s unavoidable.”

Sky groaned, ignoring Pai’s raised eyebrows when he slid off the couch onto the floor, defeated.

“You don’t usually want me at these things,” Prapai reminded him. That was true. It wasn’t that Sky didn’t enjoy his presence, it was just that he liked to keep his work and his personal life separate. Until now, apparently.

“There’s this guy…” he trailed off, shaking his head. It was fine. Pai couldn’t come, anyway.

“What guy?” Prapai wanted to know immediately, eyes narrowing.

“The boss’ son,” Sky explained. “He was kind of…hitting on me.” 

Prapai grumbled under his breath.

“So I told him I had a boyfriend,” Sky continued, rolling his eyes at the way Pai immediately brightened. “And now everyone thinks I made you up.”

“I’m not made up,” Prapai said, clearly offended at the idea. “I’m real! I’m right here.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Sky said, half-laughing as he shook his head. “It’s fine. I promise.”

-----

“It’s fine,” Sky told Jem through gritted teeth. She gave him a doubtful look before her eyes flicked over to a group in the corner, which, of course, included Alpha.

“Apparently, he can’t come,” Alpha said in a faux-whisper, more than loud enough for Sky to hear. “Convenient.”

Jem rolled her eyes and dragged him away by his arm.

“Look,” she said, once they were alone. “Just say that you broke up. It’ll all blow over.”

“What?” Sky blinked at her, confused.

“I can start the rumor,” she offered, tilting her head at him.

“What?” he said again.

“And if Win starts bothering you, just say you’re still getting over it and you’re not ready to date. People will stop talking, and you won’t have to make excuses when he doesn’t show up for the next event. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.”

“Jem!” he protested, genuinely frustrated that she, of all people, didn’t believe him either. “He’ll come to the next thing,” he told her. “He’s just out of town.”

“In London, you mean?” raising an eyebrow skeptically. “You could’ve come up with something a little more believable,” she insisted, shaking her head before she turned to leave.

Sky opened his mouth to explain himself further, then stopped. Whatever. It wasn’t worth it. With his luck, Pai would be busy next time, and then he’d look even stranger.

On the bright side, now he had to go to the gala by himself, with everyone whispering about him. Including his friends, apparently. He could barely stand the excitement.

-----

“I hate this,” Sky hissed to Jem, trying to keep his expression neutral as Alpha strode over confidently.

“Do you want me to kick her in the shins?” she whispered back, and he couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Maybe,” he muttered, just before Alpha reached them, several of the other interns clustered around her.

“Sky!” She gave him a wide smile. “How nice to see you.”

He did his best to return the smile, but couldn’t bring himself to echo her sentiment. It really wasn’t that nice.

“It’s really a shame,” she continued, undeterred. “We were all looking forward to meeting this boyfriend of yours, weren’t we?” The other interns looked slightly uncomfortable at being directly invited into the conflict and just murmured something incomprehensible in response.

“I’m sure we’ll meet him next time,” she continued. Sky refrained from rolling his eyes. “You know, unless he’s out of town again?”

Sky opened his mouth to reply, not entirely sure what he was about to say, when he was interrupted.

“Sky!” A familiar voice came from behind him, and he turned around to see Prapai. Prapai, who was in London. Though, apparently not.

“P’Pai?” he asked, obvious confusion seeping into his words. Pai was smiling widely as he came over.

“Maybe,” he answered, eyes sparkling. Sky rolled his eyes.

“You’re supposed to be in London,” he reminded him.

“I worked hard,” Pai defended himself. “Pa let me duck out early so I could make it here in time. Aren’t you supposed to be happy to see me?” he pouted.

Sky rolled his eyes.

“Sure,” he allowed, unable to fully suppress his smile as Prapai leaned in to kiss him quickly.

Jem made a sound in her throat, reminding Sky of the fact that he was surrounded by coworkers.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said hastily. He turned around, blinking when he realized that the crowd had grown, all of the other interns now peering curiously at Prapai.

“This is P’Pai,” he directed his words mostly at Jem and Ying, who had also appeared out of nowhere. “P’Pai, this is Jem and Ying,” he gestured, “and my coworkers,” he landed on, nodding to the crowd as a whole.

“Nice to meet you all,” Prapai grinned widely, pretending to be wildly oblivious to the fact that he had been such a topic of conversation.

Alpha was gaping a bit, clearly lost for words in a way that Sky couldn’t deny was satisfying. Win was a ways behind her, with a similar expression on his face. Sky decided immediately not to introduce him to Prapai.

“Can I get you a drink?” Pai asked, nodding at the empty glass Sky was holding.

“Sure,” Sky said, blushing a bit when Pai kissed him on the cheek before heading off.

“He seems great,” Ying said, not even waiting for Prapai to be out of earshot.

“So great,” Jem agreed. “I never doubted you for a second.”

Sky stared at her for a second, incredulously. A moment of silence passed between them.

“Does he really ride motorcycles, though, or was that…?”