#my mom was the one who recommended this book to me after I told her about Who’s Lila; funnily enough. I’m very grateful.

[aftout]

Reading American Gods is like taking a peek into the world’s most toxic and doomed found family trope ever written, where everyone wants you dead but won’t let anyone outside of that lay as much as a fingertip on you. And every single time you go yayyyyy!

[meetmypointlessaddiction]

Rescuing Ellie: Part One

This is the first chapter of a new series I'm hoping to start in which Ellie is fostered and then eventually adopted by the Miller family. I can't promise when updates will be but I'm hoping it won't be too long until the next one is posted, enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of trauma, Joel and Sarah being too cute, Ellie possibly being neurodivergent is touched on slightly, childhood trauma, I think that's everything, Sarah calls reader 'mom'

Words: 1,9k

Prompt: You, Joel and Sarah and made aware of Ellie’s existence as your little family prepares to add one more

Joel was pacing around the living room, Sarah sitting on the couch with a book in hand sharing a smirk with you. “Dad! Sit down. If they walk in and see you pacing like a mad man they’re gonna turn the opposite way. Relax.” Sarah told him sternly and he nodded, making you laugh. Sarah had always been able to make him do as he was told. 

“Is the bathroom clean? Did we vacuum the kitchen?” 

“Joel, baby. I love you but please shut the hell up. Everything is clean, everything is tidy but the house still looks homely and welcoming, ok? The social worker would be stupid to think that our home wasn’t good enough to bring another child into.” You said to him and he nodded, taking a seat next to Sarah and letting his arm extend around the back of the couch as she leant on his shoulder. 

“What book are you reading kiddo?” He asked and she smiled. 

“To Kill a Mockingbird. Miss Garcia recommended it so mom took me to get it from the library on Friday.” She explained and Joel shot you a small smile.

Sarah wasn’t your biological child but that never stopped the three of you from acting like a true family. You had met Joel in a bar when Sarah was just 4 and, after a few dates, you finally got to meet his little girl and the pair of you were on your honeymoon a year later. Giving birth had never been something you had wanted to do, stories from friends and family completely putting you off the idea, but Sarah was desperate for a sibling and you knew, deep down, that Joel would love to have another kid in the house.

A knock on the door had Joel shooting to his feet, almost falling into the table, as he walked to the door to let the woman. “Mr and Mrs Miller, it’s good to see you again. And I take it this is the Sarah I got to know so much about?” She asked with a cheeky smile and Sarah laughed. 

“Yeah my dad can get carried away with his bragging.” She said and Joel blushed, you squeezing his hand before he stepped aside to let the woman in. 

“Well, I’m sure you're aware of why I’m here. I’m Courtney, the social worker who’s been asked to come and have a look around, make sure everything is up to scratch and walk you through the next few steps.” She clarified and the three of you nodded, Joel gesturing for her to take a seat and then taking his seat back next to Sarah who was laying her book on the coffee table. 

“To Kill a Mockingbird? You like reading?” Courtney asked Sarah who nodded quickly. 

“I was always read bedtime stories from dad or my uncle Tommy when he lived with us and then mom would help me read the harder books because those too are hopeless when it comes to words with more than three syllables.” She teased and Courtney laughed while Joel looked at Sarah with faux offence while you snorted into your hand. 

“Well I can already tell that the three of you have a lovely dynamic going on. We’ve already discussed that it is your intention to foster a child and then adopt once the child is settled, correct?” She asked and Joel nodded. 

“We don’t think it’s fair for a kid to get used to living with us and then we just change our routine once another kid comes along, you know?” You said and she nodded. 

“Well, would you be able to show me around?” She asked and you nodded, Sarah opting to stay seated while you and Joel led her around your home. 

“That room at the back is mine and Joel’s, Sarah’s is on the left and then the room on the right is obviously the spare room. We’ve left it pretty plain so that we can decorate it to their tastes but the room design is their choice.” You explained and she nodded. 

“And you said you have two bathrooms?” She asked and Joel nodded. 

“There’s the ensuite in the master bedroom and then the bathroom on your left is the bathroom that Sarah uses.” Joel told her and she nodded with a bright smile. 

“It seems you’re all quite prepared for a new arrival. I believe there is someone in our system who would benefit greatly from being included in your family. If you’d like, I can set up a meeting for the pair of you to meet her and then another a few days later where you can bring Sarah along so the girls can get to know each other a little bit?” Courtney suggested and you and Joel both nodded quickly. 

“That’d be great.” 

“If we go and take a seat, I can go over some of her details and we’ll see what you think.” 

Sitting back on the couch, Courtney pulled out a folder and Sarah peeked over the book. “Someone that eager to come live with us?” She asked and Joel rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly. 

“Not when they find out you’re here.” He teased and she scoffed. 

“Your old man grunts when you get up off the couch would be enough to scare anyone away. Surprised mom didn’t escape when she could.” She threw back at him and you looked to both of them. 

“That’s enough with the pair of you, let’s listen to what Courtney can tell us about the girl ok?” You said and they both nodded, Joel smiling gently at you. 

“So, her name’s Ellie, she’s 10 and she’s pretty mature for her age. Became independent at a young age and is generally intelligent if that’s something that interests you. She does have slight trauma which can cause occasional nightmares and she can be generally nervous around new people but is fiercely protective once she gets to know someone.” Courtney said and Joel sat up straighter. 

“Sarah, you wanna go to your room for a little honey? We’ll call you back in once we go over some of the finer details?” He asked her and she nodded, collecting her book from the table and heading to her room. You looked at him confused and he cleared his throat. 

“When you say trauma, are we allowed to know what that trauma is?” He asked and you looked at him shocked. Was this going to be a dealbreaker for him? “Woah no not because of anything bad. I just meant would there be anything that we could do to make the transition a little easier. Like is it better to have her meet us one at a time or maybe Sarah first or-.” You breathed a sigh of relief as he explained himself. “Kids have trauma, it doesn’t put me off fostering her just because she’s had a shitty past. I just don’t want her to feel like she has to feel a certain way once she joins us, you know?” He said more to you than to Courtney and you nodded. 

“It’s probably better that she meets the pir of you first. Ellie’s mother died during childbirth and no one knew who her father was which meant that she was placed straight into foster care. She’s had some really bad experiences with foster homes which is why we are extremely careful of who we place her with. She struggles with men quite a lot which is why we always ensure that there are more women than men in whichever home she goes to. The best thing you can do for her is to just be yourselves. She has an extremely good judge of character so she’ll see straight through whatever facade you try to put up.” Courtney encouraged and you and Joel nodded, you watching as your husband took in all the information he could. 

“The only other guy that’s ever really here is my brother but most of the time his wife and son are with him. Would that be ok once she gets settled?” He asked and Courtney nodded. 

“As much normalcy as possible will help her settle. She doesn’t like to be a burden so feeling like your routine is being changed for her will make her feel awkward. We’ve had many fosters change their mind with Ellie due to some of her personality traits.” Courtney revealed and you frowned. 

“Personality traits? What do you mean?” You asked and she frowned slightly. 

“Many of the fosters believe that Ellie may be neurodivergent which could lead to some of her other traits such as her short temper and her objections to certain food textures or smells. She also struggles to divert from certain routines and some families found that hard to adjust to and it was making Ellie restless. It should also be noted that Ellie isn’t the ‘typical girl’ that a lot of families are searching for. She has very strong tastes in the clothes she wears and how she is viewed and will refuse to cooperate if it goes against what she wants.”

“We don’t expect her to stick to any kind of mould. As long as she’s her own person we don’t care.” Joel said and you nodded. “Would she be interested in any kind of sports? Sarah plays soccer so maybe signing her up for that would be a good idea?” He asked and Courtney shook her head with a smile. 

“Ellie is quite small for her age so she gets pushed around a lot whenever it comes down to sports or physical activity. Her favourite hobbies are music and drawing but I’m sure she’ll tell you all about that once you get to meet her. Once you find a topic she enjoys, the girl can talk for hours.” She said and Joel’s eyes lit up, your husband’s love for music shining through and Courtney seemed to notice. 

“Well, I can see you’re clearly excited to meet her so I’ll let you guys talk it over and once I’ve spoken to Ellie I’ll email with a date for you to come down to the home and meet her if that’s everything you had to ask.” You both shook your heads and Joel called for Sarah who bid goodbye to Courtney and then the three of you flopped onto the couch, Joel’s head dropping into Sarah’s lap as she shot him a stink eye for interrupting her reading. 

“Well that seemed to be a success. I can’t wait to meet her.” Joel said and you chuckled, Sarah just resting her book on his face and continuing to read.

“I say we order pizza to celebrate.” You suggested and Sarah cheered while Joel grumbled. 

“I hope it’s your money that’s paying for it.” He said and you and Sarah both burst into laughter. 

“Of course not. Don’t you wanna provide for your girls my manly husband. Inn’t that what all you Texas men are built for?” You teased and he scoffed, laughing as you kissed his cheek. 

“Make sure to order a ham and pineapple for the monster bookworm.” He told you and you nodded. 

“If anybody’s order was going to be forgotten it’d be yours dad. Just accept that mom loves me more.” Sarah said, prodding his cheek and you smiled. 

“What is it you want Joel?” You asked sweetly and grunted. 

“All I ever want is cheese and it’s always forgotten.” 

“Shut up you giant man baby.” You pushed his face into the couch cushion and he pouted. 

“Thought I was your manly husband?” He asked with a slight smirk showing on his face until Sarah hit him with her book.

“Stop flirting with my mom. You’re ruining my appetite.”

[pagesfromthevoid]

Darling, Don’t You Cry | j.m.

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Only you have shown me how to love being alive.

Word Count: 8.4k (ahahah)

Warnings: Canon violence. Mild SA mention (nothing explicit). Murder. Mentions of being drugged and kidnapped, hunted by people. Softie Joel.

Author’s Note: I…don’t know what came over me. Might I recommend listening to Darling by Halsey as you read?

Talk to Me! | Read on AO3

1993 —Austin, Texas

Two years after Tommy joined the military; two years after Sarah’s mom left

“I can’t stay,” she argued, shoving clothes into a suitcase.

Joel stood in the doorway, arms crossed, but made no move to stop her. “Can we at least talk about it?”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Now you wanna talk, Miller? I’ve been trying to talk for months.”

Joel heaved a sigh, running his hands over his jaw. “I know —I’m sorry, okay? It’s complicated —,”

“You think I didn’t know that going into this?” She asked, turning to finally look at him. “You think that I didn’t know how hard this would be, between you having a baby and a wife that just up and left? I knew it would be complicated, Joel.”

“Then I don’t get why you’re leaving,” he pressed, finally stepping into the room. “You’ve lived here your whole life —,”

“I’ve lived here since I was fifteen,” she countered, looking at him with annoyance. “And have had feelings for you since I moved here.”

“Don’t say that,” he warned, crossing his arms. “You’ve had plenty of boyfriends; shit, you dated Tommy.”

“Oh my god, when we were sixteen,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air. Then she stopped, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “You wanna talk? Let’s talk. I got accepted into a great program in Seattle. I have deferred that acceptance for two years to help take care of Sarah since Tommy left for basic, under the condition that I would go when he got home.

“Just because you have been dancing around whether or not you have feelings for me doesn’t mean I don’t know what I feel. And it damn well doesn’t give you the right to tell me I cannot go.”

“I never said you couldn’t,” he countered, reaching out to take the shirt she had in her hands. “I just —what’s so special about Seattle that you can’t have here?”

“My family is there. That’s what’s in Seattle, Joel. And a damn good aerospace program that wants me. Do you not get how big a deal that is?” She stared up at him, frowning deeply. “I have spent years being told I wasn’t good enough by every fucking teacher I’ve ever had —and now Boeing fucking wants me. I can’t keep blowing them off. Tommy comes home tomorrow, and my flight is booked for the day after. If I don’t go now —I won’t ever go.”

They stared each other down for a long time, Joel’s eyes pleading with her to stay. But she has spent the last two years helping take care of a child that wasn’t her’s, deferring an acceptance that never should have been deferred, and loving a man who couldn’t decide what he wanted. There were a million reasons for her to go; she just needed one good one to stay. 

But she knew he’d never give her that reason. 

“Tell me why I should stay, Joel,” she finally demanded, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “Tell me what I know you want and I’ll stay.”

“Darlin’, I can’t —,”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, pointing at the door. “Just…just get out of my house, Joel.”

She watched him turn and leave, taking her heart with him. 

2003 —Austin, Texas

Two weeks before the outbreak 

“When are you gonna let me take you back out?” Tommy asked, leaning against the bar. 

The dive bar wasn’t terribly busy; just a handful of people that knew she was back in town for a few days. Boeing was working with Johnson Space Center in Houston on a new project and she was sent down to work with the teams at NASA. It felt a bit surreal, being the lead on such a huge project. 

She’d been back a handful of times since moving back to Seattle; mostly to visit Tommy and other friends. Life got busy, things changed, and it was never easy to just hop on a plane and visit. But now, with this new program, she was going to be settling down in Houston. Austin was a bit of a trek, but she missed her friends and time heals all wounds. 

“We’ve been down that road, Miller,” she reminded him with a teasing grin. “If I recall, you cheated on me with Danielle.”

“And Noelle. And Gina.”

She looked up from the bar at the familiar voice, turning around to see Joel sauntering in with a soft smile on his face. Leaning back against the bar, she lifted her beer in greeting. 

Maybe time didn’t heal all wounds. 

But it sure as hell made the heart grow fonder. 

“Joel Miller, as I live and breathe,” she greeted, though remained seated. “Still out here ruining Tommy’s life, I see. Didn’t know about the other two.” She gave Tommy a pointed look, but there was a grin on her face. 

“Someone’s gotta keep’em humble,” Joel answered easily, taking the empty seat beside her. “How long you in town, darlin’?”

If he saw her flinch at the nickname, he didn’t react. 

“Austin, a week,” she explained, lifting the beer to her lips. Her eyes dragged over his face, taking in every little change she’d missed in him. “Houston, at least a year.”

He raised a brow, sitting up a bit straighter. “Moving back, then? Seattle not cuttin’ it?”

“Seattle is just fine,” she countered, turning back in her seat to face the bar. “I’m working out at the Space Center, with the shuttle program. Lead engineer.”

“Shit,” he chuckled, shaking his head as the bartender handed him a beer of his own. “That’s impressive.”

She just shrugged in response, smiling behind her beer now. It was easy to fall back into it with Joel; like no time had passed at all. But that’s how it always was. Joel was an easy friend to make, and an even easier person to fall for. 

What started as a stupid crush on the older neighbor boy had turned into so much more —ending just like she expected it would. Him not realizing she even existed until she was old enough to make a move herself, and by then he had a little girl and a wife. And even when his wife up and left, Joel couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted from her. 

“I’ve always been impressive,” she teased, glancing over at him. “Not my fault you’re blind in your old age.”

Joel scoffed, taking a swig of his beer. “I’m almost certain you and I are barely five years apart.”

“Feels like decades.”

They fell into a silence as the bar started to liven up, people wandering in and getting the party started. Her fingers fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist —one that Joel had given her the first Christmas she spent with him and Sarah. She couldn’t find herself parting with it; as much as she knew she should, she just couldn’t. The charm —a single star —was loose and she tried tightening it while she fiddled. 

She stole a glance at Joel, who was looking at her with a small frown on his face. He reached over, taking her wrist without a word to fix the charm himself. His touch on her skin lit a fire that she had to put out immediately. She couldn’t keep looking at him; refused to. The look in his eyes reminded her of the one he gave when she left. 

And she couldn’t fall for it again. 

“I gotta get home,” she announced, hopping off her barstool. “My dad is waiting for me; promised I’d stay with him while I was in town.”

Joel nodded once, looking away from her finally. “Don’t be a stranger; Sarah’s soccer season ended so she’s home in the evenings. Doubt she remembers ya, but I’m sure you remember her.”

It was a subtle dig; a reminder that she had left and tried her damnedest not to come back. But she wouldn’t let him see how it bothered her, giving him a polite smile. 

“I’ll try to stop by.”

Both of them knew she wouldn’t though.

2003 —Somewhere in east Texas

One month after the outbreak

“You sure that’s the address?” Joel asked, looking up at a building.

Just like most places, it seemed abandoned aside from a handful of looters trying to get whatever they could. One of the many luxury apartments of Houston, left to the elements and whatever else found its way into the building. 

Tommy held out a worn out piece of paper to him, the ink faded from being folded over so many times. Joel took it, looked it over a few times, before he cast his gaze up. 

“We gotta get to the eighth floor then.”

“Leave it to her to live on the fuckin’ top floor,” Joel grumbled, shaking his head. 

“If she’s even there,” Tommy reminded him, looking up at the building. 

He glanced at his brother, frowning deeply as Tommy fell prey to the thought that she was dead. Tommy was the one to assume the best; to assume she was alive. 

Joel assumed she wasn’t.

It was easier to assume the worst than hope for the best. 

Trekking up eight flights of stairs was living hell, given that at any moment someone —something could attack. Guns drawn, backing up stairs to cover each other…it was something that the two had grown used to doing over the last month. But silence enveloped the building, and by the time they made it to the top floor unscathed, things seemed…fine.

“Apartment 818E,” Tommy reminded him, motioning for him to follow down the hall. 

Joel had an uneasy feeling as he peered into open apartments, checking for threats. It seemed that looters hadn’t made it up eight flights of stairs, leaving many of the apartments alone. But it was too quiet; too easy. Nothing in this new hell was easy. 

Tommy stopped, standing in front of a closed apartment door. The numbers were eschew, like someone tried prying them off. But the door was unlocked when he reached for it, gun drawn. Joel followed close behind as they pushed open the door. And it was like walking into a memory. 

Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust, but it was clearly still her home. Pictures on the walls, books stacked on the coffee table. Dishes were still in the sink, and the upturned faucet suggested that the water had been running when she left. Joel stepped through the living room, glancing over the photos that littered the space. 

But he stopped in front of one —staring at him through dust and cobwebs. It was a photo of him and Sarah, right after Sarah’s first birthday, not long after his ex left. He remembered that day; she had insisted on taking a new family photo because fuck her, who needs her? And when Joel tried to argue that Sarah needed her mother —she reminded him that Sarah had her, and did he.

There was a photo next to it, one he didn’t remember taking. Tommy had his arm around her shoulders, and Joel had his around her waist. The photo was snapped as she looked up at Joel —like she was caught staring at him instead of smiling at the camera. It was right before Tommy had left for basic, at his going away party. She looked up at him like she was seeing the stars for the first time.  

And Joel wondered, briefly, how he had been so fucking stupid not to notice. 

He lifted the photo off the wall, wiping away the grime. There was a hole in his heart where Sarah was missing; and now another hole where she was too. He glanced at the photo of him and Sarah, taking it down next. Tommy was still searching the house, but Joel was prying the backs of the frames off and taking the photos out. He couldn’t leave them behind. 

“Find anything?” He asked, taking a breath to calm himself down. Feelings didn’t mean shit at the end of the world, anyway.

When Tommy didn’t answer, Joel pushed the photos into his back pocket and returned to searching. He found Tommy standing in her bedroom, staring at the floor. Joel’s gaze followed, and even though he had assumed the worst —seeing the blood stains on the carpet twisted everything inside him until it ached. 

“Maybe it’s not hers,” Tommy mumbled, kneeling down to look the stain over. Joel was about to argue, but Tommy’s voice cracked as he spoke again. “She was always fighting, she probably got away —,”

“Tommy,” Joel scolded gently, kneeling beside his brother. “Tommy, we need to go.”

But Tommy just shook his head, staring blankly at the blood stain. Joel huffed in frustration, pushing himself off the floor. He’d give his brother a few minutes; let him accept that she was really gone. It was easier that way —Joel had accepted she was dead weeks ago. 

He took a moment, looking around her bedroom. It was a mess; like she was in the middle of cleaning up when everything went wrong. Clothes were hanging from her drawers and her curtains were drawn. The bed wasn’t made, with the covers practically pushed onto the floor. The pictures on her nightstand were knocked over from the blankets being thrown, and Joel moved over to set them back up. 

Sitting on the nightstand was a worn, silver star. The jump ring was twisted open, and the star itself had a copper tint from being worn down over years. Joel hesitated just a moment before picking it up, looking it over. He’d tried to fix it last month, but she wouldn’t let him get too close. And now, he held the charm in the palm of his hand, throat closing up. 

“Tommy, we need to go,” Joel finally decided, trying to keep himself together. “We gotta get moving. She’s gone.”

Reluctantly, his brother stood and rubbed a hand over his face. Then, after composing himself, he and Tommy left what was left of their old life behind. 

Joel, however, pocketed the charm. 

2023 —Present Day

Somewhere near the border of Wyoming

“Why couldn't the skeleton share the bad news?” Ellie asked, kicking her feet out in front of her. 

Joel rubbed his face, groaning as she giggled to herself, holding the joke book. “God, why?”

“Because he didn’t have the heart!”

He hunched over, closer to the fire, giving her an unamused look as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ terrible, kid.”

“You’re just not funny.”

As Joel was about to argue, a gunshot rang out in the distance. Both of them went silent, with Joel smothering the campfire and him pushing Ellie behind rocks that they had taken refuge in for the evening. Joel stayed low, pulling out his own pistol. He glanced back at Ellie, who was peering out from behind the rocks, clutching her pocket knife. 

“Stay here,” Joel ordered, giving the girl a hard look. 

“But —,”

“No,” he interrupted, pointing at her. “Stay. Here.”

Ellie huffed in anger, but fell against the rock. Joel took a breath, shaking his head for a moment before he began making his way towards the gunshot. Another rang out —then another. The shots were getting closer —too close, and he was readying himself for a fight as he inched closer to the woods. 

The sound of snowing and ice crunching under boots was loud enough that it pierced the silence of the night like a knife. Someone was being chased, and Joel feared the worst. There were too many possibilities of what could be running towards him, and he wasn’t about to take any chances as he pushed up against a tree, pistol at the ready. 

Another shot rang out, and a high pitch scream came next. 

“Son of a bitch.”

Joel blinked, that overwhelming pain in his chest suddenly taking over as he listened. The voice was painfully familiar —older, hoarse, but familiar. He peered around the base of the tree, catching just a glimpse of a woman, holding her shoulder as it bleed into her hands. Her gun lay on the ground beside her. 

But it was her. 

Twenty years —twenty goddamn years, and there she stood in front of him. Covered in blood —fresh and old —and being shot at in the wilderness of Wyoming. Older too; but they both were. Her lip was busted, bruised and bleeding. But it was her.

He wondered if she had looked for him and Tommy, like they had for her. 

“You can’t run,” a voice called from further away. Joel, unable to catch his breath, leaned back against the tree. 

“Thought that was the fucking point,” she snapped back, reaching down to snatch her gun back up, pointing it hastily into the woods. Joel couldn’t see where she was aiming. “I thought you were hunting me —prey runs, you dipshit.”

“Didn’t think you’d run so damn far.”

The other voice, distinctly male, emerged a few feet away from where Joel hid. He peered around one more time, making sure that it was just her and him. Her gun turned to her attacker, bad arm tucked into her side as she practically bared her teeth in a growl. 

“One more step,” she warned, hand trembling as she held the gun. “And I’ll shoot you.”

“You can barely aim with your good arm, what makes you think you’ll hit me now?”

“Fuck you,” she spat. 

“I gave you that option.”

“And yet I still chose being hunted over your dick.”

Joel had heard enough, turning from behind the tree and taking aim. There was no pause; he did not hesitate. He just pulled the trigger and watched her assailant drop like the fly he was. He didn’t stop, though, emptying his clip until the man was a bloody, unrecognizable mess. Even with it emptied, he pulled the trigger several more times as he saw red. 

She had whipped around, gun pointed at Joel now. Her movements were sluggish, and she was wincing from the wound in her arm. But he put his hands up, finger off the trigger. Her eyes widened as her hand shook, dropping her gun in the snow. It was littered in blood stains, and Joel thought back to that day they had found her apartment empty. 

“Joel?”

Hearing her say his name —after twenty years —felt surreal. Almost like he was hallucinating. How many nightmares and dreams did he have about her? Begging her to stay, trying to find her only to watch her disappear again? He’d forgotten the sound of her voice, how sweet it was —even now, broken and older. But hearing his name from her lips took him back and suddenly he was in the house again, laughing in the backyard with Sarah and her. 

He lowered his hands, slipping the pistol into his holster. She stared at him with wide eyes, as if she was seeing a ghost. Joel hesitated, but took half a step forward. She took a step back, breathing heavily as she watched him. It was like she was a feral animal, afraid to let him near. 

“Joel!”

He turned at the sound of Ellie’s voice, who was running up on him. When he turned back around, she was taking off back into the woods, clutching her arm and holding her gun. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Joel called after her, and she briefly paused —glanced over her shoulder at him —then kept going. 

For a moment, Joel considered going after her. How could she just take off like that? But Ellie sidled up to his side, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket as she watched the woman walk away through the snow. Then he decided he couldn’t. 

“You know her?” Ellie asked, brow furrowed. 

“I…yeah,” was all Joel could muster up saying. “Yeah, I do.”

*****

The remainder of their trip to Jackson was filled with questions from Ellie about the woman in the woods. Who is she? Why didn’t we go after her? Was that your girlfriend? Oh my fucking god it was.

By the time they had called it for the night the first day after seeing her, Joel had given the bare minimum he could to answer Ellie. Admitting anything more would just trudge up memories he didn’t want to relive, and make it harder to not go after her. She clearly didn’t want their help, and he knew well enough that meant she’d fight them tooth and nail to avoid it. It’s what he would have done too. It wasn’t worth the risk to Ellie. Not when they were so close to getting her to Tommy and to safety. 

After two weeks worth of walking and finally arriving in Jackson, Joel had tried to forget he had even seen her. There was no reason to tell Tommy; no reason to give him any hope that he had seen their old friend. Tommy had enough going on —with Maria being pregnant, there wasn’t a good excuse to bring it up anyway. 

Following dinner —where they enjoyed a meal that wasn’t expired, and Joel thanked God for that —Tommy offered to show them down to the stables. Ellie was overjoyed, ready to interact with any and all animals she could. Joel just followed along as Maria explained the different posts that Ellie could help with if they stayed, all working with the different animals the community raised. Joel and Tommy fell back some, though Joel kept his eyes on Ellie. 

“You know, I wanted to wait to tell you,” Tommy started, slipping his hands in his pockets as they both watched Ellie pet the horse in front of her. “But about a week ago, someone showed up at the gate —I don’t think you’ll believe me —,”

But Joel interrupted, whispering her name, before looking at Tommy. The younger man looked surprised that Joel knew. 

“How did you —,”

“We ran into her a few weeks ago,” Joel explained, crossing his arms over his chest. “She was…shit, I don’t know. Being hunted. I killed the guy, but she took off.”

“Explains the shitty stitch job she had when she got here.”

Joel just nodded, trying not to think about her stitching herself up in the middle of the woods, alone. Though he had tried hard not to think about the other things she had experienced, alone, over the last two decades.

“She spent a couple nights in quarantine but we got’er set up in one of the apartments in the center. I’ve been checkin’ on her, but she hasn’t said much; didn’t even mention seeing you.”

Joel just shrugged, watching Ellie still. But he decided it was for the best to change the subject; for now anyway. “I need your help, Tommy.”

*****

When she had arrived in Jackson, she was certain that she was going to die at the gate. Her shoulder was infected —not from a bite, but from lack of taking care of it. She had stitched herself together with a dirty needle and thread she had tucked away in an abandoned cabin not far from where Ryan —her attacker —had died. Her supplies were still there when she returned, and she thanked the universe for not fucking her over even more. 

With Ryan and his brothers gone, she was finally free from the nightmare she had been living in. Even if it meant dying at the gates of the community she’d only heard stories about…she died free.

But when the gate opened and she dropped to her knees in front of the masked guards, she heard her name being yelled. Frantic, shocked, terrified. But goddamn, she knew that voice. 

“Tommy,” she breathed as he froze in front of her. She was covered in blood, worse for wear, and she knew what he was thinking. “I-I’m not infected, I swear, I was shot —,”

“We’re gonna get you to the clinic, okay?” He promised, motioning for the guards to help her up. A dog approached her, sniffing her over for several minutes, before returning to Tommy’s side. “See? Not infected; the dogs can tell.”

He ended up lifting her into his arms and carrying her through the gates. It felt like every part of her was just getting heavy, and her eyes wouldn’t focus on anything around her. But she was with Tommy; she was with someone she knew. And he was safe, and he was there. And when she woke up —if she woke up —she’d tell him she was saved by who she thought was Joel.

“I gotcha,” he promised, “You just gotta stay awake for me. Can you do that?”

She hummed in response, but her eyelids were too heavy and soon, the world had turned to black. 

*****

When she woke, Tommy was sitting next to her bed with another woman. They didn’t notice her staring at them through half closed eyes, taking a moment to consider if she was dead and this was heaven. But then, she moved just enough and she gasped in pain. Her shoulder stung, her head ached, and Christ, she was thirsty. 

“Hey, hey, don’t move,” Tommy ordered softly, pushing her good shoulder down into the pillows. “You’re just fine; you’re safe.”

She stared at him for a long time, reaching out to touch his face. Twenty years was such a long time, and he had changed so much. Everyone changed, of course. The world was nothing like it was when they were kids, but he was still Tommy Miller; still her friend and the boy next door. And as he touched her hand, she started crying. 

*****

After a week in the clinic, Tommy set her up with a small apartment in the center of the community. He tried apologizing for how small it was, but she waved him off, insisting that it was far better than anything she’d experienced in years. When he tried to push for more, she told him she wanted to settle in and that she would tell him more later. 

He left it at that, and left her alone. 

It was a small space, but it was her space. She had a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchen. And for a very short moment, she thought it was some semblance of normal. But when she got into the shower —washed out the grease and grime and remaining blood from her fight —and watched that faded crimson circle the drain…well, it wasn’t normal. It never would be. 

And when she stepped out, feeling cleaner than she had in nearly two decades, she finally saw her reflection. Her lips were bruised and split, with a scar across her cheek to her ear. Bruises littered her skin, enough so that her entire chest and shoulder were completely discolored. The bags under her eyes —not from being hit, shockingly, but from pure exhaustion —made her look sick. Though god forbid, she was incredibly malnourished as it was. 

Maria —Tommy’s wife, she had explained —came by with containers of food. She explained she and Tommy led the community, and that usually people ate the mess hall. But of course, no one expected her to right away. She wanted to joke, to tell Maria that she seemed too good for Tommy. But she stopped herself, because how would she know that? The Tommy she knew before the outbreak and the Tommy Maria knew were two completely different people. 

By the end of her first week, she was finally finding herself trying to explore Jackson. Tommy had offered to give her a tour, but she told him to go help Maria with whatever she was doing. He had hesitated, but eventually left her to her own devices. 

The remainder of her day was spent alone, wandering through the community. People greeted her, and she offered them soft smiles in response, but didn’t linger long enough to talk more. Exploring and socializing were two very different things, and she wasn’t ready for the socialization part of being there yet. 

So she wandered the perimeter, counting her steps as she memorized each entry point. Nodded to the guards and thanked them. Then she made her way back around the other way. It’s what she had done in the Dallas QZ; memorized every weak point that she could sneak out of. It was the only thing that kept her sane for the first few years, before she finally managed to get the hell out. 

Two twenty-three, two twenty-four, two twenty-five, two —

Her name was called, disrupting her counting, and she froze mid-step. Her name was yelled again, and that same familiar drawl that she had heard in the woods —that she thought she heard. 

Slowly, she turned.

Twenty steps away stood Joel Miller, watching her. 

She hadn’t been seeing things. It wasn’t blood loss or drug induced hallucinations —Joel was really eighteen steps away from her. 

Seventeen. 

He said her name again, and she took two steps towards him. 

Fifteen. 

“Joel,” she managed to croak out as she took three more steps.

Ten. 

Eight. 

Joel took four more; she took four. They met in the middle, and her arms were around his middle before she could stop herself. His snaked around her shoulders, pulling her into him without another word and she gasped as she started crying into his jacket. Joel pressed his lips to her hair, and she sobbed harder, clinging to him. 

“It’s okay,” he promised, holding her close to him. “It’s alright, darlin’. Don’t you cry; it’s okay.”

How many nights did she dream of him calling her that again? Even after she accepted he didn’t want her, that he let her leave —she dreamed of it for years, wishing she could see him one more time. Apologize for leaving, and tell him she missed him. Tell him how she wished she had asked him to come with her, to bring Sarah and they could be a family together properly. 

It was too late for that; too late to apologize. To have a family, and a life like what they had before. But he was there, and he was real. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice muffled by his jacket. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

He hushed her, promising her again that everything was going to be okay. “C’mon —sun’s setting. Let’s get inside before it’s dark.”

She nodded, letting him pull away. But his touch didn’t disappear, instead turning into him wrapping his arm around her shoulders to lead her back into town. Nobody said a word to them as she sobbed into her hands, letting Joel guide her wherever they were going. 

She would have let him guide her to hell if it meant being close again though. 

*****

They didn’t actually say anything to one another for a long time. Joel had brought her to the hole in the wall Tommy had given him and Ellie to stay, and when they sat down —she just cried. He didn’t know how to console her, or calm her down. So instead he simply let her cry, and held her while she did so. As Joel held her, he could feel her body shake with sobs. He could tell that she was struggling with something deep and personal, and he didn't want to intrude on her emotions by prying or trying to speak too soon. So he just held her tightly and waited for her to open up when she was ready.

Ellie had come out of her room at the intrusion, no doubt about to make a snarky comment, but Joel gave her a pointed look. It was a warning, and Ellie backed away as soon as the woman let out another broken sob. 

But as her crying slowly subsided, and her tears stopped streaking down her cheeks, she pulled away from him. Joel leaned forward on the sofa, clasping his hands together as she fell against cushions. He wondered how long she’d kept herself from crying; how long she buried all those feelings. 

“Feel better?” He asked, leaning back now to properly look at her. 

She just nodded, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. “I’m sorry —Christ, I’m pathetic —,”

“None of that,” he scolded, but he tried to keep his voice soft. 

Ellie peered around the corner, and before Joel could say anything, she followed his gaze to the child. Her brow furrowed, staring at Ellie like she was trying to pick her apart.

“That’s not…,” she trailed off, looking back at Joel in confusion. “Did you…Did I miss you having another kid?”

Ellie suddenly snorted, laughing at her question as she finally joined the two in the living room. Joel gave Ellie a careful scowl, frowning deeply as she sat on the floor in front of the two adults. While he never thought he’d have a private moment with her again, he needed Ellie to not interrupt him trying to figure out what was going on.

“I’m not his kid,” Ellie announced, sitting crisscrossed before her now. “I’m his cargo.”

“Don’t say that shit,” he warned, giving Ellie a pointed look. “You’re not –not anymore.”

“But…she was?” She asked, looking between the two curiously. 

“Long story,” was all Joel could manage to say, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll…explain it later.”

She looked between Ellie and Joel for a moment, trying to draw connections between the two before she seemed to give up. Her hands rubbed her eyes again, taking a deep breath as she settled into the couch further. Joel simply stared at her, watching her movements. Her fingers tapped against her thigh, a pattern that he was certain she didn’t realize she was making. Her mouth was bruised, with a split lip that was still healing. 

“Why’d you run from us?” Ellie suddenly demanded, leaning forward.

“Ellie –,”

But she let out a huff that sounded like a laugh, and Joel turned his attention to her instead of the kid in front of them. He wanted to know too; wanted to understand why she took off when she clearly knew it was him. She’d said his name, after all. But Ellie was too blunt for her own good.

“I…,” she trailed off, trying to think of her explanation. “Do you want the actual answer, or the less terrible one?”

Joel and Ellie glanced at one another, both frowning now. It was Joel who spoke. “The real answer. Please.”

She nodded once, looking down at her hands for a moment. “I thought I was hallucinating, that’s all. Twenty years –what are the odds of you being in the same stretch of woods as me, twenty years after the last time we saw each other?”

“Fucking slim,” Ellie mumbled, looking between the two.

She gave Ellie a surprised look, as if not expecting her to curse. But she shook her head, returning to her story. “I…I’d lost a lot of blood, I think. And I was drugged. Been running for days without eating or sleeping, so I…I saw you, and I really did think it was you. But then…well, she…” She motioned to Ellie then to Joel, frowning still. “I thought, ‘That’s not Sarah; that’s not Sarah so that can’t be Joel,’ and I…figured I was just hallucinating from the drugs and lack of sleep. It wouldn’t have been the first time, honestly. But then…I took off before I could think straight.”

Joel stared at her for a long time, taking her explanation for what it was. In a fucked up way, he liked the thought that she had been seeing him in her delirious state. Maybe it was wrong; maybe it was the worst thing to think of. But she thought of him, and he wondered if that meant what he thought it did.

“How’d you end up in the woods?” He asked, eyes roaming over the scars that she had picked up over the years. “Sounded like you knew the fucker that attacked you.”

“That’s…a whole different story,” she sighed then glanced at Ellie. “One I don’t think I can share with a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Ellie complained, throwing her hands in the air. “I’ve seen and heard so much worse –,”

“Ellie, please,” Joel scolded, pointing to the bedroom. “I need you to go find something else to do.”

“What the hell am I gonna do?”

“Literally anything. Go.” Joel's voice was stern, and he knew that Ellie was feeling frustrated not being involved. "Ellie, I mean it. Anything else. Just keep yourself busy and stay safe," Joel said firmly.

Ellie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Fine," she grumbled, turning to head to the bedroom. 

As she disappeared from view, Joel let out a sigh of relief. He didn't want to hurt Ellie's feelings, but sometimes she was too stubborn for her good, and while he didn’t expect too long a moment alone with her, he wanted her to feel safe telling him what happened to her. And if that meant having Ellie go occupy herself for ten minutes, then he would make it up to her later. 

She watched Ellie walk away, waiting to speak until she heard the slam of the bedroom door. She flinched at the sound, closing her eyes for a moment. 

“I’m sorry, she can stay out here –,”

Joel shook his head, waving off her concerns. “She’ll be fine,” he promised, moving now to sit closer to her. “Sometimes she thinks she’s more grown than she is.”

“I think all teenagers think that way.”

He thought back to Sarah for a moment; how she insisted on doing things on her own only to realize she needed help when it was too late. It was a teenager thing to do, even in the middle of the apocalypse. The thought of Sarah hurt though, and he shook his head to bring him back. He knew that dwelling on the past wouldn't do any good, especially now that he had part of his past sitting in front of him.

“Talk to me,” he ordered, keeping that same stern but soft tone he gave her earlier. It was easier to move forward; keep the conversation going. Even if it meant talking about her past over his. “What happened?”

She bit at her lip, though stopped herself when she remembered the split and the bruise. Instead she opted to pick at the skin around her nails, trying to keep herself occupied. Joel waited patiently, frowning as time wore on. He could sense her unease and wanted to help, but he also knew better than to push her. He shifted his weight on the couch, leaning forward some, feeling the weight of the silence between them.

“Where do I even start?” She finally asked, covering her face with her hands. 

“Why not the beginning?” He suggested, reaching out to take her hand. “Tell me what happened, darlin’.”

She hesitated again, looking at their hands. His were a scarred, calloused disaster. Worn and torn from years of violence and labor. Even before the world had gone to shit, they were worked hard from construction. Joel couldn't help but notice the way she hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth between their hands. 

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the memory of the last time they touched like this. It was the morning before she kicked him out of her house. She’d stayed the night, having watched Sarah for him while he had gone out to help a friend get their car back and running. It wasn’t the first night they’d spent together, with her waking up in his bed and his lips on hers, lazy in the sunrise. She’d taken his hand, pressing their finger tips together, and asked him if he wanted to talk about her offer to Boeing. 

He didn’t want to talk about it then, promising they could later. He remembered her sighing, burying her face back into her pillow even though she still held his hand in hers. He had been avoiding the conversation for weeks at that point —knew he was pushing his luck in her staying with him without talking about it. They hadn’t talked about what had been going on between them; hadn’t put a label to it. She was young and had a life ahead of her. And Joel…well, he was the father of a four year old and too jaded from his ex to put his heart on the line again. He had been afraid to tell her the truth, and by the time she tried to force it out of him, it was too late. 

Christ. Had it really been thirty years? 

“Joel?”

Her voice broke him from his thoughts, and he focused on her face again. “Sorry, darlin’. I’m listening, promise.”

She nodded again, taking a moment before she finally started to speak. Her free hand ran over her hair as she put into words the last twenty years.

“Uh, so most of the last two decades were in the Dallas QZ,” she explained, “I stopped keeping track around fifteen. Most of my team from the Space Center ended up with me there, and FEDRA had us work on putting the zone together. Guess they thought all engineers were builders –but we basically directed people on how to make shuttles and parts of the shuttle; buildings are completely different.”

“I still can’t believe you were an engineer for NASA,” he admitted, smiling softly at her. “Makes sense since you were always takin’ shit apart and putting it back together, just to see how it worked.”

“I never thought it was an option, but that’s how I managed to get a radio that worked right; I managed to jerry rig something that could pick up on the towers communicating back and forth.” She just shrugged though, looking back down at her hands. “That’s how I found out about this place. Overheard someone passing along the message, and I started to map it out the best I could. I have a shit sense of direction, though.”

“You always did,” he recalled, giving her another small grin. “Remember when you convinced me to drive you and Tommy to Galveston for some concert and you got us lost?”

She smiled, and Joel was certain she was thinking back on it. He remembered that trip well; she’d just turned eighteen, and Tommy was about to head out to basic. They wanted to do something exciting before he left, having asked her parents to watch Sarah for the weekend. Halfway through the trip, she offered to help with Sarah; she hadn’t mentioned getting an offer to go to school in Seattle at that point. He was just happy to have someone who wanted to be there. 

He remembered how packed the cab of the truck was, and how she was practically in his lap the entire trip there. At the time, it was like he was suddenly seeing her for more than the girl who hung out with his little brother. She was lively, and excited. Her laughter filled the cab, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her energy. He wanted to spend more time with her, to hear her laugh and chat his ear off. Even when he realized they were lost as shit, it didn’t matter because he was just content with her beside him. Until Tommy reminded them they missed the concert, of course.

“We ended up there eventually!” 

“After the fucking concert was over, a day late.”

“We still got there,” she argued, and Joel appreciated that the memory got her to smile just a little. But it faded as she continued to speak. “I told my team, and we were gonna get out of there. After a while though, it's like…like my team just started to disappear. Couple were killed by FEDRA for breaking rules; two others got sick. Then it was just me and…I figured if I was gonna go, I had to go then or never. Think that was, shit. I don’t know? Three years ago?

“I was fine for a year and half, on my own. Didn’t have a fucking clue where I was going, but I was doing okay. And then…I stumbled on this group of survivors –two women, three men. I offered them some supplies to show I wasn’t there to hurt them, and they told me they were headed here too. So I joined them. That’s…that’s when it got bad.

“Lilla, one of the ladies, got infected and attacked us. She bit one of the men, Travis. Obviously we killed them, and got away. But then, I don’t know, the leader of the group –his name was Ryan, he’s the one that you killed –got this sick idea that hunting people was the best way to survive. His wife agreed, and his brother just went along with it. I thought they were psycho, told them and that’s when…well, they decided it was me they would hunt.”

“What the fuck,” Joel mumbled, brow furrowing as he listened to her. Her hand was trembling now, and he reached out to take both her hands in his now. She closed her eyes, tears falling again as she clutched his hands tight. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“Long story short, I managed to kill the wife and brother about six months into their stupid ass game; Ryan just kept…he kept finding me. Every time I got away, he showed up. He’d get close enough, get a hold of me –drug me, stab me, whatever he could to slow me down –then let me go again. When you found me…that was, I don’t know, I think the third or fourth time he’d caught me and threw me back out. Like I was some game piece. Then…then you killed him and suddenly, I was free again but I thought I was dying, and…and…”

Finally, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close to him as she started to cry again. Joel’s stomach churned, the thought of her being hunted for nearly two years. He couldn't imagine what she must have gone through, the fear and uncertainty that must have plagued her every waking moment. He had always known that she was strong, but now he realized just how resilient she truly was. Despite the being fucking hunted, she had never given up. He felt a deep sense of respect and admiration for her, and he knew that he would do anything to make sure that she felt safe again. He’d failed her once before; he wouldn’t do so again.

As she cried in his arms, he whispered words of comfort to her, promising her that he would always be there for her. He knew that it would take time for her to heal, to overcome the trauma she had experienced, but he was healing too; he was just as broken as she was. And he wanted to heal with her –with Ellie too. In that moment, as he held her close, he realized he had to keep both her and Ellie safe; that he couldn’t fail them both.

He also realized, then, that he had to continue with Ellie to the university.

Joel pulled back, just enough to take her face in his hands. Tears were in her eyes as she looked up at him, and he couldn’t hold his back anymore. There was hesitation; a fear that lingered before he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, feeling the weight of all the emotions between them. It was a kiss born out of sadness; trauma. But also one of comfort and understanding. It took a moment for her to respond to the kiss, but when she did, she returned with a fierceness that surprised them both. Their lips molded together, and their bodies pressed closer as the intensity of their emotions heightened. They both needed this connection, this moment of shared vulnerability, to ease the pain of their past. 

They stayed that way for a long moment, lost in each other, before finally pulling away, breathless. Joel rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, feeling grateful for the connection they shared. As they finally broke apart, gasping for air, she looked up at him with tears still in her eyes. But they were different tears now, ones of relief and hope. 

“I have to leave,” he whispered, searching her eyes as he pulled back, taking her face in his hands. “I have to take Ellie to Colorado –there’s doctors there; she’s immune somehow. They…they think they can make a cure.”

Her brow furrowed as she processed what he was saying, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Her hand fingers wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place. Her eyes dropped, just briefly, on the string around his wrist –to the charm he’d taken years ago. Her tears fell even harder as she realized what it was. “Joel, I-I don’t –,”

“Come with us,” he practically begged, his voice breaking as he did. “I…I can’t lose you again. I won’t. Come with us, and help me get her there. Then we can come back here when the doctors get what they need, and you and I…we can try again; make up for the time we lost.”

She nodded frantically, tears falling over his hands as she started to cry again. He wiped her tears away, pulling her close to rest his forehead against hers once more.

“Yes!” Ellie suddenly exclaimed, running into the room again. 

Joel pulled back, though her hands found his to keep him close. “Ellie –,”

“I knew you wouldn’t let go with Tommy!” Ellie continued, throwing her arms around Joel’s neck from behind. “You fucking softie, I knew it!”

One of Joel’s hands reached up, patting Ellie’s arm with a small chuckle. She looked between the two for a moment, a soft smile coming to her lips. Joel looked back at her, unable to help the smile that came to him either. 

Maybe they’d be okay after all.

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The past is revealed to Eren, who can only do his best to prove that it doesn’t change his feelings.

— Content warnings: past child abuse/neglect, drug use, unstable family life, grooming, SA, slightly nsfw, mention of unprotected sex.

— Notes: Sorry for the cliffhanger last week lol but you should be used to it haha. Chapter 10 is now here! <3 There’s a lot going on in this chapter so please pay attention to the content warnings before reading. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

then and now

It wasn’t always so bad.

My earliest memory is that of my mom giving me a warm cup of tea and honey when I fell incredibly ill at three years old. I'd eaten something unclean and I was stuck in my parent's bed for a week, feverish, with little appetite and even less strength. If I concentrate enough, I can still hear echoes of my parents sitting at the kitchen table, crunching the numbers from their pooled savings so they could afford a doctor's visit. My mom remained by my side the entire time to make sure the IV drip didn't spontaneously clog, or that I didn't move the hand that was connected to it and started bleeding out into the tube. The doctor said a little bleeding was normal, but she was scared of it happening at all. 

I developed a hatred for cabbage, which is what the doctor recommended to help regain strength without hurting my stomach. My father went out to buy it and my mom fed it to me in soup. She'd make a game out of it, and she promised to take me to the park to play as soon as I got better. I remember my childhood fondly if I focus on that first memory. So, I'm pretty sure anything before that was just as good. 

I didn't know until I was way older that my mother did drugs before she had me. She struggled with addiction at sixteen, which was well into her relationship with my father. The only difference was, he remained clean after my mom told him she was pregnant during their senior year of high school. 

I couldn't understand that I was witnessing her relapse after I started kindergarten. Apparently, being four and a half years old is the cutoff for being worthy of staying sober for. 

That's when everything started spiraling. My mom failed to pick me up from school several times, leaving me to spend hours tucked away in the library, keeping Mrs. Zacharias company while she pretended to rearrange already organized books. My father worked long hours at a factory, some of which had to be punctured like swiss cheese so he could take me home because my mom was nowhere to be found.

By the time she stumbled through the door, she was being brought in by strange men. I never met them, I just knew they were there because the noise would wake me up in the middle of the night and I'd hear my father arguing with my intoxicated mom after thanking them for bringing her home. 

My mom looked sick. As her number one fan, I was worried. She was getting skinnier, she barely ate and she seemed tired all the time yet never got enough sleep to heal the dark circles under her sunken eyes.

The first time I attempted to cook something, I was six. I could easily get by during school days. I had breakfast and lunch there, and sometimes Mrs. Zacharias would give me pretzel sticks if I read a book out loud to her while we waited for my father to come get me. But on weekends, I was on my own. My father was working even on weekends to make ends meet and even when my mom happened to be home, she wasn't truly there.

So, while she was locked inside the bathroom for hours, I went into the kitchen and tried to boil an egg. I couldn't find the small pot we always used, but my pink plastic bowl was on the drying rack from last night after my father fed me dinner. 

I didn't know you weren't supposed to put plates onto a hot stove. The plate cracked and stuck to the burner. I tried to pry it off but I burned my hand. It would take years for the scar to fade. 

When my mom saw what I'd done, she slapped me straight across the face. I was dragged by my hair and locked in the minuscule storage closet as punishment. That was just the first of many times. 

My father would always be the one to let me out when he got back from work late at night, and I'd quietly call him from the inside, scared because I'd urinated myself and he'd probably be just as mad as my mom. But he wasn't. He'd clean me up, scrape the plastic from my now useless pink bowl from the burner, and feed me.

My father grew tired of it. All the money that was meant for food and supplies went directly to dealers, meaning he had to spread himself even thinner. When he found out my mom had ransacked the secret place he kept his savings for the sixth time, he snapped. 

I was twelve by then, so I understood everything that was going on.

They had a huge fight and he stormed into the bedroom to pack his clothes into a bag. But my mom was ballistic. She took a pair of scissors and started cutting anything she could get her hands on into pieces.

I heard a series of slapping and punching before my father passed me by in the living room — no money or clothes on him — and slammed the door shut behind him.

Things got even worse.

My mom would constantly yell that if it hadn't been for me, my father never would've left. She'd tell me I ruined her life and that I was a burden. Had she not gotten pregnant at eighteen, her life would be a whole lot simpler.

But now we didn't have any money, I didn't have a father, and my mom's addiction pushed her into getting a job. Even back then, at twelve years old, I felt guilty because she had to work because of me. 

She started off at a laundromat. Mrs. Zacharias visited our apartment because I hadn't gone to school for a few days and she wanted to check in. Despite my mom's foul language toward the kind librarian, she helped her get the job. 

My mom was very happy to work at the laundromat, though it had less to do with having a purpose than it did with the crumpled bills she'd find in people's clothes that would later serve as pocket change for her dealer. 

After a year, she was fired after being caught stealing from the register. It was surprising she even lasted that long in that place. 

But now she was even more desperate. 

And that's when the men started coming.

I spent my elementary and middle school years hearing my mom having sex with strangers inside the room she used to share with my father while I did homework on the kitchen table. 

Some of them were nice. Some of them weren't. 

Sometimes my mom's dealer would be the one to come around. 

One day, when I was thirteen, I'd just gotten back from the school library from working on a group project and I was making myself a sandwich when he came out of the bedroom, still buckling his pants.

“Hey there, princess,” he said.

“Hi, Steve.”

I didn't think it was strange to be on a first name basis with the guy. He was around a lot and that in itself meant it was okay to be close with him, in my mind.

Besides, he wasn't that much older than me. I think about eighteen or nineteen. It just made sense to be friends.

“How's school?” he asked as he leaned back into one of the chairs at the table.

I knew he didn't really care — that's why he dropped out, he'd say — but I still answered him honestly.

“Math's getting a bit hard but I'm doing okay.”

“That's ‘cause you're smart,” he praised as he lit up a cigarette and took the first drag. “You're gonna make it outta here real quick with that brain of yours.”

He held my gaze as he blew out the smoke away from my face. It didn't matter because it drifted back to me anyway. 

“You're pretty, too,” he murmured before taking another long drag.

I shook my head, an unamused scoff leaving my lips.

“I'm serious,” he laughed.

I turned back to look at him again, suddenly feeling shy. 

He had very nice eyes. Sometimes bloodshot but always very blue. 

I always liked how blue his eyes were.

I also liked that he complimented me. Outside of school I was barely praised for anything. 

“You think I'm pretty?”

His smile slowly faded as he squashed his cigarette butt on the floor and leaned closer to me.

“Yeah, you're fuckin’ pretty, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes flitting to my lips. “Wish I could taste you.”

I could feel my face grow hot at his words. At the time I thought he meant he wanted to kiss me, and perhaps that was all there was to what he said, but I found myself leaning closer to him, too.

I had my first kiss with a nineteen year old drug dealer. I didn't know what I was doing, of course, so I just tried to mimic his movements. He tasted awful but I felt my stomach fluttering at the thought that someone thought of me as pretty and not a disgusting nuisance.

The kiss was cut short when my mom caught sight of the scene and angrily kicked him out.

She was fuming when she got back to me, and I could feel my stomach trying to climb up my throat in anxiety.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled.

I tried to explain that he asked to kiss me first, that he made the first move. But she overpowered me.

“You think I don't notice the way you look at all my men?” she sneered. “It wouldn't kill you to stop wearing that skimpy little skirt around, you filthy slut.”

I was next to be thrown out of the house. 

Living on the first floor of our apartment building included some perks, one of them being we didn’t have to climb the metal stairs attached to the side of the building to get to our apartment. There were no stairs connecting the apartment floors on the inside, either, which meant there was plenty of privacy. 

But it also meant I had no way of getting back inside that night.

It was December. It was snowing. And I slept outside.  

From then on, I was nothing but a whore, a vicious slut who was interfering with my mom's business. I had to leave the house each time she had someone over, or be locked in the closet until they finished. My mom said that as long as I was in view, men would be more interested in me, the pretty young thing, instead of her. And that wasn't fair.

Over the next couple of years, we coexisted with each other. I stayed out of her way as much as I could, a habit that ultimately translated to other aspects of my life. And she spared me just enough attention when I needed to be punished for taking money for school supplies and food. 

It got to a point when I started hanging around my high school more than I should. I'd get there extremely early and leave as late as I could without getting in anyone's way. 

And I actually really liked school. Steve wasn't lying when he said I was smart. I really did have a knack for picking up on things easily, and good grades came to me like a birthright. 

I was top of the list for everything.

Minus social skills.

I kept to myself. I was smart but I barely raised my hand in class so as to not rob anyone else of the opportunity to participate. I ate lunch alone in front of my locker to not take up any space at a table in the cafeteria. But I was fine with it.

Everything was fine.

Zeke Fritz was the youngest teacher at my school. He was well-mannered and charming, and he was very popular among all his students — but especially the girls.

He just had a dignified presence that drew everyone in. A lot of the female teachers would shamelessly flirt with him but he always remained very composed.

As the only male born to politicians with connections just about everywhere, Zeke Fritz could've lived a cushy life with a breezy job that would keep him comfortable for life.

But he wanted to be a high school teacher. So, fresh out of a masters program in math, he quickly snagged the open position at the high school I enrolled in years later. Not that an open position was a sign of good luck. For Zeke Fritz, spaces were manufactured for him wherever he chose to go.

He was well qualified for the job, though. He'd also taken a liking to me during my first and only semester of my first year. I was the first to pick up on every formula he taught and he found that endearing. 

“I think I want to be a teacher someday,” I confessed one late afternoon when he asked me to help grade my classmates’ recent pop quiz. 

I'd accepted out of a sense of duty, and because if I had rejected him, it surely would've caused him trouble of some sort.

Right?

“You'd make a fantastic teacher,” he smiled.

So, there we were. Looking back, that must've been the day I dug my own grave because Mr. Fritz seemed awfully delighted that I didn't reply to his request for help with an excuse, and that I basically confessed to looking up to him. My compliant attitude must've looked a lot different for him than it did for me.

He drove me home an hour later and watched me open the door to the apartment before leaving, like a perfect gentleman. I waved him goodbye and he smiled at me from inside his car, waving back as he sped off.

That was one of the last few times I saw him. Because just two weeks later, I dropped out of school. 

Little by little, my mom had built up a large debt with Steve, and seeing that she'd taken loans from different people, whatever she earned from selling sex just didn't cut it. Our water, gas, and electricity bills were more than we could pay for, so I had no choice.

I started mowing lawns, raking leaves, cleaning pools and houses, and walking dogs for extra cash. I wasn't rich by any means, but I'd split most of the money to appease debt collectors and whatever was left to save for a rainy day. 

When my mom noticed I was bearing most of the weight, she began slipping away from her own, leaving it for me to pick up. She continued abusing, and even developed more expensive tastes. There wasn't much I could do at that point. I could beg her to stop and flush her pills down the toilet but we'd just go in circles for hours and I'd end up huddled in the corner with tears, hugging myself in an attempt to feel some warmth. 

I landed a waitressing job at a diner. I'd go three days a week and on my off-days I'd keep working odd jobs to stay afloat. 

On one occasion, Mr. Fritz walked in.

He pronounced my name with surprise. I was even more surprised he remembered me. An entire year had gone by since I'd seen him, and I was sure he had plenty of fresh faces to occupy himself with to remember his student of roughly four months.

I politely nodded at him in greeting and showed him to a table. That night, after he insisted on driving me home, I finally caved at his fourth try. 

However, as we neared my neighborhood, I burst into tears. He pulled into a dead-end street and turned off the car. I cried for the longest time, explaining through sobs that I was tired and that I missed school but I felt forced to leave.

He held me in his arms, his hand brushing down my back in comforting strokes until I calmed down.

He began frequenting the diner after that. Every Friday, he'd invite me to sit with him during my break and he'd fill me in on what he was teaching that week. 

One night when he came in, I had a nasty bruise on my face. In one of my countless fights with my mom, she'd thrown a broken glass at my face and cut my jaw. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to leave a mark for a couple of months. 

I didn't go back home that night. I felt awful for intruding on Mr. Fritz’s space, but he was adamant I stay with him until I figured what to do. 

He provided me with food that night and clothes the following morning. I didn't want to burden him, but he'd already bought them, so I accepted the clothes with a polite nod. I remember my face warming up when I noticed his generosity went as far as new underwear and a plain white bra that fit me a bit awkwardly, but he seemed unfazed.

His place was closer to the diner I worked at, and odd jobs could be found just as well in his neighborhood. So, as long as I stayed there, I kept my routine and even helped tidy his apartment as a thank you. 

At sixteen and a half, I started studying for my GED. Mr. Fritz helped me cram for the math portion and did as much as he could for other subjects. I was incredibly grateful. 

The afternoon the results were posted on the testing portal, I was a nervous wreck. Mr. Fritz stood behind me, his hands resting comfortably on my shoulders as he assured me I'd done just fine. I scrolled down the web page in search of a passing score. When I saw it, I jumped out of my chair and screamed excitedly. Mr. Fritz picked me up and spun me around as he rejoiced in my success. 

Even when he put me down, he kept his arms around my waist as he smiled down at me.

“Congratulations,” he murmured.

And then he leaned in.

The kiss took me by surprise. His hold was strong so I merely stumbled as I tried to draw a distance.

“Mr. Fritz—” 

“What's wrong?” he gently asked me. “Don't you like me?” 

My face warmed at the question, and I barely stuttered out a response. 

“I do, but–”

I wanted to explain that my fondness was out of admiration, but he cut me off before I could.

“Then why can't we kiss? I like you, too. I always have. It's only natural. I'm a man and you're a woman. We live together; it was bound to happen.”

Confused, but trusting that his logic was a compelling argument, I nodded.

“I guess that's true.” 

“And besides, I've been helping you this entire time. I did it because I care. I'd be hurt if you didn't think I was worthy after all I've done for you. Think of it as a token of your appreciation.” 

“I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful,” I murmured. 

My voice was barely above a whisper, but my meek demeanor made him smile.

Lifting my chin, he leaned down to kiss me again. I didn't stop him that time, and he just kept going.

Before I knew it, I was routinely bent over his dinner table or pushed down to my knees so I could repay his kindness. 

This went on for months.

I felt a bit guilty. Because even though I could feel it in my gut that his logic had its flaws, I still let him have his way with me. But a few weeks in, I was convinced I was in love with him. 

It was only natural, as he once said.

People who love each other do everything together. People who love each other kiss in the shadows all the time. They sleep next to each other in the same bed and they wake up at three in the morning to have sex, which ends with the guy telling the girl he loves her because the girl asked what she means to him. People who love each other would rather stay home than go out on dates where people can see them because love is best kept private.

That's what Zeke told me.

And I trusted Zeke. I loved him.

After the diner I worked at closed down, I started making deliveries for a nearby restaurant owned by a family of the name Grice. They could only offer me weekend hours, which meant I had to move my other jobs around but I accepted their offer. Since I couldn't drive a car or a motorcycle, I had to bike everywhere. Thankfully, the Grice's eldest son, Colt, gave me his old bike to use.

Colt Grice was nice. He was only a year younger than me but we'd never met until I started working for his parents. He went to private school, so it made sense we'd never crossed paths. 

Colt Grice also had a thing for me. He asked me out a couple of times but I always politely declined. I couldn't tell him a name, but I let him know I was seeing someone. So he remained a distant admirer. 

One Saturday afternoon, as I was cycling to and from the restaurant to make deliveries, I got lost looking for the last address on my list. 

I took a wrong turn and ended up in a neighborhood I couldn't recognize. Frustrated, I hopped off Colt's bike and started walking, hopeful to find someone to ask for directions.

I passed by a dead-end and there I saw it. Zeke's car.

Confused as to what he was doing there, but relieved nonetheless, I started walking toward the car to surprise him. But I never made it.

Because as soon as I stepped forward, I caught a second figure inside the car. A girl around my age, or maybe even one or two years younger was sitting on his lap in the back seat, fervently kissing him — and he wasn't doing anything to stop her.

Stunned, I rushed out of there as fast as my feet allowed me. 

By the time I came through the door of the Grice restaurant, I'd succeeded in my last delivery but I was a mess. Colt's parents rushed to me, asking if I was okay but all I could do was apologize for the delay. 

Seeing as it was already dark out, Colt offered to walk me home. He remained quiet the entire way to Zeke's apartment building, which was perfect because I didn't have it in me to talk. As I stepped one foot in front of the other in a zombie-like daze, I thought about how crummy my life had been so far. I kept seeing flashes of Zeke and that girl in the backseat. I also thought about whether I should actually be with someone like Colt Grice.

If I was honest, had Zeke never entered my life, I would've said yes to Colt Grice ages ago. He was kind and tall, and he was nice to look at. Not to mention he was closer to my age than Zeke was. 

So when we reached the front steps of Zeke's apartment building and Colt bid me goodbye with a smile, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him.

He was taken aback, of course. But he kissed me back as soon as the shock subsided. 

Blushing, he asked if I'd like to get a smoothie with him after work tomorrow. 

I decided right then and there, on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, that I would cut ties with Mr. Fritz.

“I'd love to.”

Colt nervously laughed, amazed that I finally accepted his offer.

“I'll see you tomorrow, then,” he smiled, my name sweet on his tongue.

I didn't know Zeke had been watching us the entire time from his living room window.

My resolve to leave him was literally beaten out of me as soon as I walked through the door of his apartment.

I never brought up the girl from the dead-end street. 

I never showed up for work the next day, I never showed up for my date with Colt, and I never saw the Grice family again even after I left Zeke for good six months later.

I went back to living with my mom. As expected, she was still a mess but by then all the crap in her system had worn her out so much that I had to do everything for her. 

She couldn't fight with me like she used to just a year and a half ago, but it was still hell. She'd throw plates at me and scream horrible things at the top of her lungs until I'd break down crying each time. And that just wound her up even more. 

I couldn't just leave her. She was all I had and I was all she had.

But even the most patient hearts are worn out, and so even though I held out as much as I could for six years — and I was probably just waiting to keep her company on her deathbed — I left. She was too out of it to realize who she was talking to, but angry enough to throw a picture frame at the door when I walked out.

I moved to a new city and got a job. I used my savings to furnish the small apartment I found for myself, filling it with soft pastel colors that made the place my safe haven. 

I started wearing neutral colors, not wanting to draw attention to myself, and eventually found comfort in treating myself to the nice things I never had. 

I only went back to my hometown to fill out paperwork when I got a call that my mom had died. That same week I spent there, I heard through the grapevine that Zeke got arrested after he failed to manipulate the young daughter of one of his family's friends, bringing shame to the Fritz name. I never saw him, or Mrs. Zacharias, or Colt Grice ever again.

You don’t seem to notice that your hands have been shaking for a while now, but Eren does. He's been holding them the entire time as they prune in the cold water. 

Tears are pricking at his eyes but he refuses to let himself cry no matter how heavy his heart feels. It just doesn't feel appropriate when he's not the one trembling at the retelling of their life's story. 

Words don't come easy to him, either. An apology seems out of place, and any string of comfort just doesn't seem to cut it. He wanted to know everything and now he does. Now he's just lost on what to say that could prove to you that you made the right call to trust him.

“I'm sorry,” you murmur, lacing your fingers with his, pulling his hand out of the water, and kissing his knuckles. 

The gesture makes him ache.

“I know it's a lot.”

Eren could never lie to you. Everything you just told him definitely took a toll on him, but he’s also grateful that you shared it with him. And you shouldn't be the one to comfort him. It's given him an entire new perspective on who he wants to be for you. 

It rips him apart from the inside to think that you grew up believing you weren't worthy of healthy parents or a proper home. To think that the only time you experienced love it wasn't even real, and that distorted your understanding of the word forever. To think you were present to help anybody you could without someone to do the same for you without any ulterior motives. To think you made yourself small when you deserved just as much as anybody to take up space in the world. 

What can he say to a person who refuses to believe she could be genuinely loved but whom he loves like it's breathing?

If he had met you sooner, he would've done everything to protect you. It kills him that he couldn't keep you from being manipulated and used. 

“Do you still like me?”

Your timid voice wavers in the air. 

It dawns on Eren that he has yet to speak a word, and that you have no clue of where his head has been for the past few minutes since you caught him up to your present life. 

You don't turn around to look at him, nor do you make any other move. You just remain with your back to him, looking down at your naked legs through the soapy water.

When Eren peers at you over your shoulder, lifting your chin with a wet pruned finger, you struggle to meet his gaze. 

“Why wouldn't I?” 

You crumble in his arms. 

Eren cradles you as you cry into his chest like an affection-starved baby. He presses your naked body against his chest, rhythmically shushing you as his hand soothes your bare back and he presses his lips to your temple. 

You cry out twenty-four years worth of pain with Eren as your anchor. Your eyes swell and your features contort in anguish as you sob so violently, the movement reflects on your shoulders and your cries are mute. You cry until there are no more tears to shed and all that's left are a few hiccups as your body comes down from its panic. 

Eren turns on the shower and scrubs your body down. His fingers massage your scalp as warm water pours down your fragile frame. He sweeps the suds from your face with a gentle hand, as he looks down at you, teary-eyed but smiling as warmly as ever when you blink up at him. 

A soft, fluffy towel is ruffled over your hair as he draws out the excess moisture before he wraps a second around your body and lifts you in his arms in one swift motion. You cling to him while he carries you to bed, where he carefully sets you down and he hugs you to his chest, coaxing you to sleep while the world outside your window slows down and darkens.

It's around three in the morning when Eren stirs awake. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he finds you looking at him.

“How long have you been awake?” he whispers.

You smile.

“A while,” you admit. “I didn't know watching someone sleep could be so fascinating.” 

“Well, now I'm embarrassed,” he laughs, his voice still groggy.

“Now you know how I feel,” you smirk, reminding him of when he's done the same. 

His hand comes up to cup your face.

“How are you feeling?” he tenderly asks, his bright emerald eyes shining in the dark.

“Better,” you murmur. Then you meekly add, “I didn't think I would cry so much. I'm a little embarrassed about that.”

Eren leans forward to plant a brief kiss on your lips. 

“Thank you,” he says, to which your eyebrows upturn in confusion.

“For trusting me,” he explains. “I know it couldn't have been easy to relive everything.”

He clears his throat as he strokes the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

“I didn't know what to say at the moment. If that freaked you out, I'm sorry. But I promise none of that changes the way I feel about you. Not that, not anything. I swear. I won't fail you.” 

You thought you were dried out, but Eren's words draw another series of tears to well in your eyes and cling to your lashes.

“So you still want me?”

He smiles.

“I told you. I'm in it for the long haul.”

As you melt in each other’s embrace, you realize this is what genuine love is. People who love each other want to know each other. They hold hands and play on swings in childlike glee. They wake up at three in the morning to watch the other person sleep, careful not to disturb them because the image of them dreaming is just too precious. And whether it be in light or shadows, people who love each other kiss slowly as words of praise and worship are poured into each other's mouths and warm hands caress each other’s scars.

The last two days leading to the New Year's Eve party at the Jaeger house are spent making last minute arrangements and check-ins with the catering service, florists, pyrotechnicians, and others. 

You and Carla spend the last day shopping. You brought one of your fancier dresses in your suitcase, but after witnessing all the crates of champagne being delivered and hauled into the house in preparation for the party, as well as a preview of the flower arrangements, you felt the need to seek something livelier than the original sleek black silk dress.

It takes several stores and countless fittings until Carla finds you the perfect dress. It's simple but pretty and you and Carla are over the moon with the way it fits you when you step out of the changing room.

The following night, the music from the main house's terrace can be heard all the way inside the pool house. You haven't met anyone yet, but the sound of car doors and alarms have been faintly echoing in the background for a while.

Eren’s fixing his bow tie in front of the bedroom mirror when you slowly wander into the bedroom, in your pretty pastel dress and strappy heels, fixing your earrings as you go. 

Eren's mouth falls open when he turns around and takes in the sight. 

“What do you think?” you shyly ask.

You're in a flowy midi knife-pleated dress, washed in pastel colors that blend seamlessly between lavender, pastel pink, blue and green, like a watercolor painting. The bustier-style bodice is connected to dainty straps in the same soft colors. 

His lips part and close as he struggles to find the right words. When you giggle, he finally grins and pulls you in by the waist.

“Are you even real?” he murmurs.

You laugh as he pushes you back against the wall, smiling and cradling your face with one hand as the other keeps you pressed against him by the small of your back.

Your hands drape around his neck as he catches a glimpse of the angel necklace resting below your collarbone.

“I think we should bail on the party and just celebrate here,” he grins as his nose brushes against yours. “You know, in some cultures, New Year's is more of a private holiday.”

You throw your head back in laughter as he peppers your neck with short, eager kisses.

“Seriously,” he says, leaning back just enough to admire your smiling face. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you shyly reply. “You look really good, too.”

“Well, I remembered you liked me in a suit,” he smirks, eliciting a pleasant shiver to run down your spine. “So… what do you say?”

Giggling, you shake your head.

“I think your mom will notice if her only son doesn't show up to the party.”

Eren pouts.

“You're right. Then at least I'll get to brag about having the prettiest woman in the world with me.”

He enthusiastically pulls you into a kiss, drawing out an amused giggle from your lips as you melt into his touch. 

When he pulls back, you're both smiling, connecting in one enamored look.

“Eren, I love you.”

Your eyes twinkle as they blink up at him.

“I know I haven't said it in a while but… you know I do… right?”

Eren's heart frantically pounds against his ribs as he caresses your cheek with tender strokes of his thumb.

“Of course,” he murmurs. 

Your shoulders visibly relax, like you've been holding back on repeating those three words and this moment has finally granted you with relief.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod. 

“Okay,” you sigh happily. You peck the corner of his mouth. “Come on, Carla's probably wondering what's taking so long.”

Eren doesn't move, keeping you in place against the wall.

“Wait,” he says, his voice quivering slightly at the end.

He brings your hand to his chest, giving you a second to feel the fervent beats.

You look at him curiously as your name rolls off his tongue.

“I love you.”

His features soften before you as the words leave his lips, like pronouncing them has lightened an unknown weight on his shoulders.

“I didn't say it back then,” he adds. “But it wasn't because I didn't feel it. I was just surprised you said it first. But you know I've loved you this entire time… right?”

His shy confession lines your eyes with tears. 

“Of course,” you murmur. 

He sighs heavily in relief as he kisses you once more.

“I love you,” he repeats, the words falling from his lips like it's what he was put on this earth to pronounce. 

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.”

You cling to him, your fingers carding through his hair as he ruins your lipstick with his fervent kiss.

“I love you, Eren,” you repeat, as you fall back onto the bed, where his hand snakes up your thighs and his fingers tug your underwear to the side. 

“I love you,” you sigh as he buries himself inside you, the contact raw without a single thing to keep you apart. 

“I love you,” you whimper as your legs wrap around his middle and he finishes inside. 

You both rest on the bed, hands laced together as you regain control of your breathing. 

“I love you,” Eren smiles, your full name bouncing off his tongue and making you giggle.

“I love you, Eren Jaeger.”

The music from the string quartet on the terrace begins to play, reminding you of the night's agenda. 

“Let's go,” Eren says, helping you up with one hand.

“I'm gonna need a minute,” you tell him as you fetch a fresh pair of underwear from the dresser. “I'll be quick.”

He nods, a cocky grin taking over his lips when he notices the streak of your lipstick smeared on your chin. 

“I'll wait for you outside,” he smiles. “I gotta make a call.”

You nod and slip into the bathroom.

As you take in your reflection, an excited flutter stirs in your stomach. 

Being with Eren doesn't compare to anything else in your life. He's the warmth you've craved your entire life. He's deep in every cavity of your being, patching you up from the inside with his strength and affection.

You decide at this moment that you've never loved anyone until him.

As you trade your ruined lipstick for a tinted lip gloss and you clean the remnants from your spontaneous lovemaking, three little words shaped by Eren's warm voice echoes in your ears.

I love you. 

With one last look in the mirror, you walk out to meet him. 

As you shut the pool house door behind you, you pick up the last of Eren's call.

“I gotta go… Yeah… Good luck, buddy.”

Eren ends the call with a quick tap to his screen before turning to you.

He holds out his hand for you to take.

“Ready?”

The party is in full swing on the terrace. Champagne bottles have been popped and music and lively voices fill the air.

You feast on shrimp and cream puffs, bacon-wrapped asparagus and antipasto skewers. You clink your champagne flute with Carla and the ladies from her book club as you suggest titles for their next read and you look over at the pyrotechnicians as they finish setting up for the fireworks show with ten minutes to spare.

Eren never leaves your side. 

He laces your fingers with his as he tugs you away from the railing to dance. His hands fix your arms around his neck before settling on your waist.

He's not much of a dancer, but you follow his lead in swaying to the music. Your limbs tingle with the light buzz of brut.

“Are you happy?” he asks as he presses his forehead to yours.

You smile.

“I'm never not happy when I'm with you.”

He laughs.

“I guess I'm stuck with you, then.”

“You are,” you murmur as you draw closer to his lips.

He pulls back teasingly, chuckling when you inevitably pout at his evasion.

“Easy, you'll get your kiss in a couple of minutes.”

Resting your head on his chest, you continue to sway. It's not long before someone calls out that it's a minute to midnight. 

As fresh champagne flutes are handed out to every guest, you turn around in Eren arms so you can face the fireworks show. As everyone around you excitedly counts down the last ten seconds of the year, Eren hovers over your shoulder and lifts your chin between two fingers.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” you murmur back.

The two of you kiss as golden lights burst in the sky.

Later that night, buzzed from champagne and with a new bottle tucked under Eren's jacket, you stumble into the pool house, giggling like teenagers who just stole from their parent's liquor cabinet. As you clumsily undress each other and exhale sweet words in the air while reconnecting your bodies one more time, you think to yourself that Eren has managed the impossible — to heal every wound and make you happy. 

The following morning, you'll find a new series of text messages where Mikasa and Jean let their friends know they're engaged, and you'll be even happier.

Two days into the new year, you part from Paradis Island. 

At the airport, as you, Eren, and Carla have a quick lunch before you leave, Eren pulls out his phone and asks you and his mom to pose for a picture together, before asking a security guard to snap a photo of the three of you.

Carla hugs you tightly as she makes you promise you'll be back soon even for just a few days. You hold onto her just as tightly, thanking her for everything, even for the things she didn't know she gifted you, and you swear this isn't the last she'll see of you.

Roughly thirty minutes later, as you look out the window, waiting for the plane to take off, Eren's hand gently envelops yours. 

You turn to smile at him and he dips forward to kiss your temple. 

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

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[jesncin]

Do you have any favorite books or comics that you'd recommend?

Superhero comics or in general? I'll go in general, haha:

Our Dreams At Dusk by Yuhki Kamatani

This is the book series I'm most obnoxiously recommending people. It's influenced me ever since, Lunar Boy is a direct homage to this short series in many ways. It talks about the lived realities of being queer and Japanese in Japan- the queerphobia, the mental health struggles, the relationships (romantic and platonic) in an in depth way. It opened my eyes to what the queer narrative can be, and I'm forever grateful for it. This story is so good it actively ruins all other queer media for me, haha.

Superman Smashes the Klan by Gene Yang and Gurihiru

This is the book I most successfully recommend to people. What can I say that I haven't said many times before? A reimagining of the classic Klan of the Fiery Cross arc from the classic Superman radio show, empathetically revitalized. A story that actually acknowledges and understands Superman as a direct immigrant allegory?? Where he relates to a Chinese American family being targeted by the Klan?? I love it, and many people have picked up how I'm influenced by it! You don't need to know anything about Superman or his lore, this is a very accessible story for newbies. If you want to know why I love Superman, this is it. This story is so good it actively ruins all other Superman media for me, haha.

Salt Magic by Hope Larson and Rebecca Mock

One of my recent all time favorite graphic novels!! This story is everything I love about fairytales perfectly told in the graphic novel format. When a mysterious woman curses a family farm by turning their water supply into entirely undrinkable salt water- Vonceil must embark on an adventure to uplift the curse that hangs over her family history. Also Rebecca Mock's art is INCREDIBLE.

Homunculus by Joe Sparrow

Shortbox, the publisher for this comic, is retiring soon so order this book now! Or any books from them that you fancy (discount code here)! From the indie scene, Homunculus is a beloved short comic about a machine with growing sentience witnessing the end of the world, and what comes after. The style is lovely and the story is deceptively simple! It's heartbreaking by the end.

Berrybrook Middle School Series (Awkward, Brave, Crush, Enemies) by Svetlana Chmakova

This series is the reason I wanted to make middle grade graphic novels, and is in my humble opinion- the best in the business. Each story is self contained, with a cast of recurring characters that all go to Berrybrook middle school. It covers a wide variety of young experiences in an empathetic way that doesn't feel like you're being talked down to. It's a book series that nurtures the children it's for. I cried reading Brave, and Crush is such an important book that I'm ecstatic that kids get to read.

The Weight Of Our Sky by Hanna Alkaf

If you liked my Who Is Superman: A Private Interview with Lois Lane comic and want to learn more about the historical context behind it- I recommend The Weight Of Our Sky by Hanna Alkaf. It doesn't cover the same history (this book is about the 1969 race riots in Malaysia), but it's such an eerily similar incident that I felt myself reflected in it. Hanna is an incredibly vivid writer, and she handles so many topics with sensitive care. She highlights that historical events like this need to be remembered, and how fictional stories can breathe new life into an increasingly forgotten history. Also Hanna is so nice.

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness (original idea by Siobhan Dowd)

One of my all time favorite novels, with hauntingly beautiful mixed media illustrations by Jim Kay. I love how this book covers grief in such a messy and fantastical way- showing how its young protagonist has larger than life feelings he's trying to contain from the looming eventual death of his mom's illness. This book is special because it was conceived originally by Siobhan Dowd as she was going through terminal cancer, in collaboration with her editor and Ness. It feels like an intimate experience, and this heavy feeling of grief carries the whole book in a memorable way.

Those are my fav books off the top of my head! Happy reading :>

[sexypantsriorson]

HELP! I THINK I'M DUMB!

*****SPOLIERS FOR FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME BELOW****

I read this Rebecca Yarros x Variety interview (https://variety.com/2023/tv/news/iron-flame-spoilers-rebecca-yarros-fourth-wing-tv-series-interview-1235781877/) after listening to it recommended several times in an episode of Fantasy Fangirls Podcast. The question I included confused me and I just can't figure it out.... lol (I think maybe it is the way RY's response is worded idek) so naturally I came here in hope someone else can explain what they think it means to me or we can chit chat about wtf is going on...

So obviously I get and appreciate the part where RY says Xaden is not in love with Violet just based on Brennans stories. The part that confused me was the "He’s a kid. And he loves Brennan. He doesn’t know Mira. If he has one chance at revenge, it’s Violet. And not only is Violet his chance for revenge, but the mother has just taken that chance away from him. So naturally, his instinct because he doesn’t know Violet and he does know Brennan — and I would hope that if someone knew my sister, they would care for me, but they wouldn’t know me."

So is RY saying that he wanted to kill Violet the first time he saw her/ realized who she was on the parapet as revenge for what her mother did (despite the fact that he "loves" Brennan - maybe his hatred of Lilith out weighs his love for Brennan?) but couldn't because of the deal he made with her? So then what does that statement "So naturally, his instinct because he doesn’t know Violet and he does know Brennan — and I would hope that if someone knew my sister, they would care for me, but they wouldn’t know me" mean? Is he going to try and make not killing her more bearable by telling himself its for Brennan...??? is that what is going on? is that what she means?

And then if were gonna take it a step further there are several statements throughout both books when Xaden tells Violet (or the reader during his POV chapter) that he has loved her longer then she realizes, he has always been hers, yada yada yada. Obviously they were attracted to each other atop the turret - they both admit that. Then in Iron Flame he tells Violet (when speaking about Cat) that you don't have to like someone to fuck them.

So from this article/ RY's answer to this questions in combination with pros from the books were supposed to think that Xaden wanted to kill Violet because of his hatred for Lilith despite the fact that he loves Brennan (and Brennan, like everyone else who knows Violet (including their mother who put her in the riders quadrant for the exact reason that she would make the choice to go against Navarre once she found out the Fables of the Barren were indeed NOT fables and be killed for it in the scribes) believes she will make the right choice when the time comes, and I would assume if Xaden told Brennan about the favor his mom called in would have told Xaden the same) so he keeps Violet alive because of the deal with her mom but also out of respect and love for Brennan and ends up falling for her on an emotional level (since it is made very clear he is physically attracted to her from day one) along the way......?????????????

Is this what RY is saying???? I'm just very confused and of course, like Violet, I was gutted when I found out he only kept her alive because of the deal with her mom and likely would have killed her (loving Brennan or not) had she not called in the favor.

What is anyone else thoughts!? Please converse I'm begging!!!

[bittersweet-folder]

~□♡ Tipsy under the moonlight 🌕

~ Wen Junhui x fem! reader ~

~ little bit suggestive but overall fluff, friends to lovers, university au hence both Jun and reader are 18+

• Word count: 2394 words • Masterlist •

Song rec: falling for you by boywithuke// crush by Tessa Violet // fall in love alone by Stacey Ryan// bad ideas by Tessa Violet // i wanna be yours by Arctic monkeys

You were sitting on your bed quietly, going through the reading material your professor has recommended y'all in the class. Minghao came to your house, more like you dragged him to your house to help you out with any difficulties you might face with the reading material. He was sitting quietly beside your bed scrolling through his phone.

"You do realize that going to a damn housewarming party won't hurt you right? Just our friends would be there and no one else whom you don't know and you know how Soekmin prefers known people in his party so it would be more fun" Minghao's voice had a lingering sense of irritation after making you understand the umpteenth time that it was okay to take a break even if the semester exams were like two weeks after. But the problem was that your last semester paper didn't go well and part of you was way too anxious about what might happen next.

"Hao can't you go and meditate for a while? You sound very irritated and we have talked about this on our way back to my home. I ain't a baby, I'll see what I can do" You said shifting your gaze to face him.

"I ain't a baby my ass you need a break you nerd, you won't be any less of a nerd if you take a break" he mocked you.

"HEY! THAT'S VERY RUDE OF YOU TO SAY" you shouted and threw a pillow at him.

That's when your mom entered the room.

One, because you shouted and she hurried even more.

Two, because Jun came.

It was an awkward moment which turned you even more anxious because your mom was now glaring at you and Jun was staring at you trying to hold back his laughter.

" y/n, honey mind explaining to me what is going on" your mom had a fake smile plastered on her lips.

"Aunty it's alright and it's just some friendly banter nothing else" Minghao added "and we were talking about the fact that Seokmin has invited his friends to his housewarming party tomorrow. And few of y/n's friends would be there and our friends would be there too and most probably some of them would stay at his place at night as well". Minghao said.

"Ahh that's lovely you should go y/n/n"

"Mom not my nickname-"

"Anyways Jun told me you called him at your place so here he is"

"Hello!" Jun waved and flashed a smile towards you. And hell that smile made you feel so many things. But you didn't call him. What is he doing here?

"Hi" your voice was soft.

"Okay anyways I'm leaving" your mom announces as she leaves, with the door wide open, of course.

Jun comes up and plops himself beside you on the bed and looks at you.

"Well it was Hao who texted me to come to your place and save him from the horrors of teaching you because you dragged him to help you out with studies". Jun said nonchalantly staring straight into your eyes.

You blush in embarrassment. " Well yeah I did"

"And I think you should take a break as well, you know. I know you are stressed out but please don't be so hard on yourself" Jun sounded concerned.

You pondered for a minute while still staring at him. And most definitely cursing Minghao to invite someone who's literally your crush.

"Okay fine!" You stood up with your books in your hand to keep them back on the shelf. Jun followed you. You keep your books and turn back only to face him.

"Jun, what are you? A duckling?"

He giggled and leaned over. You felt your cheeks starting to burn up.

"Guys? Right in front of my tea? I'm still sitting here" Minghao said, petrified enough to witness his best friend leaning over a girl, probably to kiss her right in front of him. Jun turned around and you both looked at him.

"Dude you have no tea to start with you know-" you just said it out loud outta irritation because Jun was so close to you yet Hao third wheeled in. Jun started laughing.

"Wow okay I'll go and tell aunty to make some tea for me" And with that Minghao went outta your room. There was a moment of silence. Jun turned around and looked at you.

"So umm is it okay if I pick you up tomorrow from your house then we'll head to Seokmin's house together" Jun was calm yet there was a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You were taken back because this was the first time that the Wen Junhui, the one whom you have a crush on for months now, has asked you out? What should you call it though you don't know but you were both nervous and excited about it.

"Umm yeahh of course. There's no problem with that" you said with your gaze shifting down gradually.

He smiled. "Alright then I'm glad to hear that, I'll be here at 7 in the evening tomorrow"

"Okay!" you flashed a warm smile at him. And he'd be lying if that didn't melt his heart.

Next day:

"Fuck fuckkkkk I'll be late" You were pacing around in your room keeping things back and searching for your eyeliner.

"Mom! MOM where's my eyeliner!?" You shouted in your room. She didn't respond, and came to your room instead handing you her eyeliner.

"Calm down, will you?" She patted your head.

"Okay sorry" You pouted. You put on your eyeliner.

"Okayyyy I'm done!"

You looked at yourself in the mirror satisfied with your simple get up. The clock ticked 7pm and just then you both heard the doorbell ring.

"What a timing your lover boy has huh"

your mom said, smirking at you. She knew about your crush you had.

"Mom seriously!? Not now!" you whined. You went down stairs. Slid on your shoes and then opened the door.

Jun was there standing in a black polo shirt and wide legged jeans with black and white pattern and….a small bouquet of roses? He looked at you. His ears turned red on how pretty you looked. "Why do you have to look so pretty every damn time? Guess you don't even know how hard it is for me to not take my eyes away from you" He thought.

"You look really pretty in this floral dress and umm i don't know if I'm being too much but i bought some flowers for you" Jun held the bouquet in front of you. There were five red roses with baby's breath surrounding them, wrapped up with a pretty newspaper and black bow.

"That's so sweet of you Jun" You smiled and took the flowers.

Your mom cleared her throat and made you both know about her presence.

"Okay so enjoy the party two of you"

"We will" You both said in unison and looked at each other and giggled. And you went out. With the bouquet in your hand of course. Jun and you took the bus and then walked a short distance and reached Seokmin's house. You both chit chatted about various things on your way. You rang the doorbell and to your surprise it was Joshua who opened it.

"Hello there! Lovebirds" Joshua said with his usual sunshine radiant smile.

"JOSHUAA! we aren't dating-" You said being flustered with the sudden lovebird comment

"yet. Anyways come in"

"Seems like you are dating though Shua, you know the crush you have on Seokmin~ we all can clearly see that~ '' Jun said with a smirk and wiggled his eyebrows.

Joshua was blushing now. "Okay chill jesus christ-"

You were giggling.

"Spill the tea! why are you laughing y/n! " An energetic and curious Soonyoung popped out of the blue.

"Okay I'll spill the tea, let's go inside!"

"Yayyyyyyy!" Soonyoung definitely sounded eager.

"Y/N! JUN! WELCOME TO MY NEW HOUSE~~" Seokmin chirped. He wrapped both you and Jun into a big hug. You both hugged back.

"Seokminie's hugs are always so warm" You giggled as you looked up to Seokmin. What you didn't know was Jun taking a short glance at you while you said that. He was clearly jealous especially at the nickname.

"Okay so let's go to the drawing room. Also, all the drinks and food are in the kitchen. Suit yourself with any of them you like."

"Okay if we are drinking then some people have to be sober enough look after the drunk maniacs"

"Exactly and especially Soonyoung, Kwannie and Hao"

"You too you know"

Seokmin was definitely embarrassed because he has had created drunk disasters before partnering up with Soonyoung.

"Dokyeomyaa!! come here for a second please" It was Joshua.

"Gotta go!" and with that he went.

"So you wanna grab some drinks first?" Jun asked.

"Yesss let's go"

"Someone's excited" he said and then smirked.

"I mean of course it's been a while"

You and Jun headed towards the kitchen. You met Soonyoung and Liya (your close friend) in the kitchen.

"Liyaaaa! Hello!!"

Liya jumped off the kitchen counter and hugged you.

"You look damn pretty y/n"

"You too honey"

"Wait a sec. roses?"

This was awkward because you took the roses with you just so your mom doesn't tease you later that you have Jun as your boyfriend when you don't.

"I gave it to her," Jun interrupted. You turned around. He was now seated on the dinner table's chair in a manspreading position. If that question didn't make your face flushed up, his answer did. Especially the way he sat. "Pretty nice thighs you have huh? makes me wanna sit on your lap but guess you don't even know how you make me feel about you" you thought to yourself. And to your horror, he did take notice of your flushed up face.

"Are you guys dating?" Liya asked bluntly while Soonyoung was munching on some chips intently watching whatever was happening in front of him.

"Uhhh- "

"No we aren't" you were interrupted by Jun.

"Ohhh" Soonyoung and Liya said in unison.

Your expression kinda dropped after hearing this. What was that bouquet for then? Why would he lean over like that? What about those notes slipped in those graphic novels which he borrowed from you?. Soonyoung and Liya left the kitchen after the music was turned on. Liya asked you if you wanna join but you turned that down. Your lips were pressed in a thin line. You looked at Jun and then went to the kitchen counter. The moon was up tonight, mesmerizing as always. You could see it from the glass window. The kitchen was dimly lit and the moonlight was visible from the window.

"Seokminie literally got hold of so many soju bottles for real. I just hope he doesn't get caught for this" You said to Jun with your back still facing him. You poured yourself some in a small paper cup. After five shots you felt someone was standing behind you.

"Don't drink too much or else I have to give you a piggyback ride to home" Jun let out a chuckle after saying this.

"Okay! Fine" You pouted.

"Can I hug you y/n?"

The question caught you off guard.

"Yeah you can.." you said softly.

He wrapped you up in a back hug with one hand around your neck and the other around your stomach with his chin resting on your shoulder. Blood rushed through your cheeks as you felt butterflies erupting on your stomach. Your shoulders tensed up.

"Are my hugs warm too?" Jun whispered beside your ear.

It suddenly clicks in on why he asked you this. You turned around and faced him, his hands now resting around your waist.

"Ain't no way you're jealous of Seokmin-"

"Yes I am and I am jealous of how he has a nickname given by you" Jun cut you off mid sentence. You looked away. Did the friend whom you have a liking on, just confessed that he's jealous over you complimenting one of your mutual friends? . Oh yes he did.

"Y/n?"

"Yeahh?" You looked at him and made an eye contact. Never in your life you thought Jun would be talking about all this outta the blue in your friend's housewarming party. But here you were pinned against the kitchen counter with hands around your waist looking at you with such softness in his eyes.

"I like you okay? Your smile makes my day. I love it when you recommend to me your favorite graphic novels. You're so cute when you get all confused while studying. Really love it when you listen to all my playlists and like them too. I don't know if you feel the same or if you're ready for a relationship. I'll respect any decision you take and.. I like you y/n I really mean it."

You hugged him burying your face on his chest. Jun's face was flushed because of that.

"Your hugs are warm, so is your presence. You're funny too. I really love your laughter" you smiled "really love those notes you slip through those novels, love your playlists and I like you too" You confessed and then you looked at him. It felt slightly dizzy, more like close to feeling tipsy this time your face eventually warming up.

Slowly Jun leaned in and got closer to your face.

"You're okay with kissing?" A hint of desire dripped from his words.

"Yes, I am"

With that you placed your lips on his. His lips were soft. They moved at a steady yet slow pace with your lips. There was a lingering taste of soju on his lips. He was pulling you closer,chest pressed against each other smiling into the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck while one of your hands caressed his hair. One of his hands was around your waist while the other on your back. He was melting into the kiss. After a while you pulled away breathless.

"Can't believe I have such a pretty girlfriend now," Jun grinned.

"Wasn't Joshua soo right about predicting us dating Junnie" . His ears perked up with the given nickname.

"I like the new nickname and yeah he certainly was" he chirped as you let out a chuckle.

.・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。..・✫・゜・。.●.・✫・。.

a/n: ik it's long but well I can't help it. Lol.

[quaranmine]

your mom reads your fanfiction? that's awesome! what else does she say about it?

Well, she's read this one! She hasn't ever read any other fanfiction before either but I've explained the concept to her. It's also the only piece of fiction writing she's read by me since I was probably in 7th grade or so. She knew I could write based on the essays and articles I've written. Like, I've had her help me edit my college papers before and she went with me in high school when I competed at state for timed essay writing. But she had ZERO exposure to whether I could write fiction or not!

I left her some notes at the beginning of the story to explain a few things, like how yes the names are weird but she'll get used to them. (I pointed out that she loved Cold Storage by David Koepp, which has a character who is called "Teacake" the entire time.) She is also reading it slower than she probably would've read other books, because I recommended she open up the document on her laptop. At 218 pages, the google doc lags HARD on your phone.

She told me that once I used the word "rack" to describe Grian hanging up the phone in its place, and that wasn't what it was called, but she blanked on the correct word to describe it. (Cradle? Just 'holder'?)

She already knows the end of the story, but she still thinks it's very irrational for Grian to assume Mumbo is alive. She too has a lot of experience going hiking and doing outdoor activites, as well as a big true crime obsession, so she's well versed with the odds of missing people being alive after such a long time. So she think it's Painfully obvious that Grian is wrong, but she also understands the way I've set up his grief and is very sympathetic to it.

She's delighted with the part where Scar desribes Jellie to calm Grian down. She also highlighted several descriptions I've done and said that she loved the way I described the mountains and nature. She said it was very beautiful. She has learned a lot about fire lookouts and finds all my details interesting. She likes Scar best because she knows a lot more about him from me talking about him over the years—I guess I tend to talk about Scar more than Grian because I watch his streams more and showed her pictures of Jellie.

She's also calling it "my book" :D

[deliwrites]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕊𝕝𝕦𝕥 // 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊 // Dream Team

// DATE // 26th of November 2022 // PAIRING // DreamTeam x fem!Reader, george x fem!reader, sapnap x fem!reader, dream x fem!reader // WARNING // flirty!reader, use of real names, tease!reader, playgirl(ish)!reader, reader being playfully teased   // WORDS // 2,5k+ // SUMMARY //  Your first day in America with the boys. (it's a bit of a filler cause I've been very busy with college, sorry!) // CREDIT // I have use a small paragraph of the first book of the "to be claimed" series from "Willow Winters". I highly recommend it if you are into a/o/b stuff.

// SERIES // Intro // Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // I’m open for serie title suggestions for this one! Feel free to comment your suggestion here or sent it into my inbox!

// MASTERLIST // ANONLIST //

After our group hug, I looked up to actually look at Clay. Nick and George going to grab my suitcases.

“I knew you would be gorgeous,” I told him. I don’t think he was expecting exactly that. A loud chuckle coming from him in surprise. A bright smile covering my face. Standing on my tippy toes, I peck his cheek. “Now, where is Patches?” I ask with excitement. Don’t tell them I said this, but Patches is definitely the biggest reason I decided to move.

“Alright, let’s let those two deal with the suitcases,” we laugh at the two somehow struggling to get them out of the car. Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, Clay starts leading the way to the front door.

“Patches!” I sing song the moment the front door closes behind us.

“Last I saw her she was in my ro-”  a meow interrupts him—patches. She walks over to us from the living room.

“Hmm,” I giggle evilly. “I guess you forgot to tell Patches about your plan,” smirking, I stand on my tippy toes again, this time pecking his lips now that we were in private. Clay smiles, only a little defeated. He did at least get a peck. I peck his lips two more times before walking over to Patches slowly. Lowering to the floor. “Hi cutie,” holding out my hand for her to sniff. Cautiously strutting over, she starts sniffing my fingers. Quickly after nudging my hand. Allowing me to pet her. “Awh, you like me already!” Gently I pick her up, cradling her in my arms like a baby.

“Of course, she likes you,” Clay says, watching fondly at the interaction. Watching me baby-talk to the cat. She somehow meowed back in response. “You’re part of the family,” getting up from the floor I sent him a smile. Still holding onto Patches who decided to hug me.

“So, where is my - unfinished -  room?” Before Clay can answer, the front door bursts open. George and Nick arguing as they stumble inside with my four suitcases. The commotion causing Patches to jump from my arms, using my shoulder. Leaving a slight stinging sensation from her claws. Running who knows where to hide from the two. “You guys okay?”

“I thought you packed light!” George exclaims, making the question sound more like a statement.

“I did?” I answered with confusion. I had been carrying all four suitcases and hadn’t really noticed one being heavier than the others. Maybe one because of books, but not so much heavier that it would cause such a struggle. Walking over I took the heavy suitcase, noting that it seemed heavier. Placing it on the floor. Unzipping it, I take a peek inside. “She did not,” I mutter, smacking the suitcase shut. I had no idea what else was in this suitcase. But I did not want them to see what mom had put in it.

“What? What’s in it?” Nick asks, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Let’s not worry about it,” I quickly go to zip up the suitcase, not noticing the look the three share. “Hey!” I squeak when I am suddenly pulled away from the suitcase. Clay having a tight hold on me. Leaving us both to sit on the floor. Trapped I am unable to move out of his hold as I trash around. I’m forced to watch Nick and George open the suitcase. The first thing in sight is a - one of my many - baby albums. One I didn’t plan on bringing, along with a box filled with other pictures from my childhood. Under those, I could see - spicy - books and a black Hunkamüller box. That box was not filled with lingerie tho. No, no, but I think you can guess when I tell you that I would rather have them look at my baby pictures.

“Y/n’s baby pictures,” George smirks. Immediately flipping through the pages quickly. Laughing when he finds a picture of me naked. Showing it to all of us, I was laid on a cushion, on my belly. Ass plumb nice and round in true baby fashion. ‘Awh’s filled the entree way as they continued flipping through them. All the while I groan in both embarrassment and frustration, hiding my face in my hands.

“They are just baby pictures!” I try to minimize the hype of the photo album. “I don’t know why mom packed those.”

“She packed it so we can tease you with it,” Clay says from behind me, still keeping me trapped in his hold. Though I stopped trashing, just letting it happen. Scoffing, I rolled my eyes, not that he could see.

“And what are these,” Nick grabs one of the few books in the suitcase. These were my favourites, there were more going to be shipped by my mom. But they didn’t need to know what they were about.

“Just books… Nothing to worry about,” maybe I should shut up though. I didn’t like lying and I especially couldn’t lie to these three idiots. Besides, nothing I say is going to make them stop looking through my stuff. I wouldn’t mind but like this, it felt very exposing. 

“To be claimed, Willow Winters,” Lucky for me I got the discreet version, so as long as they didn’t open the book I would be in the clear. “What’s this about?”

“I’m not saying anything,” I should really listen to my own advice. With a mock scoff, George takes the book from Nick. Opening it to a random page.

“Before the torn clothing even hits the floor, his tongue-”

“George stop,” I try to stop him from continuing as he reads from the book. He just glances at me, smirk devilishly on his lips.

“His tongue is on me. His rough stubble scratches against my inner thighs and it’s even better-”

“George ple-” before I can finish my plea Clay’s hand covers my mouth.

“Shh, we’re finding out how kinky you really are,” he says in a hushed tone.

“ ‘Please!’ I can’t stand the torture any longer. I need my release. He moves from between my legs and hovers over my body while wiping my glistening arousal from his mouth with the back of his hand. His lips are swollen and his silver gaze doesn’t hide his desperation to be inside me in the least. At least both of us are affected. ‘You need me to fuck you, Grace?’.”

“Wow, we know you’re horny, but not this horny,” Nick teases me when George stops reading. Thanks fuck. Pulling Clay's hand down I mock a laugh.

“At least the men in these books are able to pull more girls than you guys,” laughs fill the space. Clay finally let go of me. Thankfully they decided they had done enough snooping for today. Instead, actually deciding to show me around our home. Ending at my empty bedroom, lucky me, it has an ensuite.

“So, as I explained before, for now, we are rotating beds,” Clay says after putting one suitcase down in the room, George, Nick and I doing the same with the other suitcases. “Tonight, my room is all yours. Tomorrow George’s, then Nick’s. And it will repeat until your room is ready.” 

“Hmm, are you sure you trust me in your rooms?” I smirk evilly.

Around noon whilst we were all relaxing on the living room couch, my phone started ringing.

“Shit,” I mumble, quickly answering the phone. “H-hey mom..,”

“Y/full/n, you’ve made me worried sick! You said you would call when you landed!” my mom's voice rings loudly.

“I’m so sorry! I promise that I’m okay. I have arrived safely-”

“I don’t believe you! Hand the phone to George.”

“What? George is more believable than me?” I ask offended, the guys laughing at my reaction.

“Just hand over the phone, unless you’re not actually with them.”

“Okay, okay,” doing as told, I give my phone to Geoge who puts it on speaker.

“Hello Mrs Y/l/n,” he says calmly.

“Oh thank god, my angel hasn’t been kidnapped.”

“What!?” I exclaim. Clay wheezed beside George.

“Honey, the only way I would know for certain would be George’s British accent,” mom says like it’s nothing. “If you would have just turned your video on-”

“Mom-”

“It’s okay, Y/n, you can turn the cam on,” Clay reassures me like he was reading my mind.

“You sure?” He nods with a sweet smile. Taking my phone back from George. I turn on the front camera.

“There you are,” mom smiles tearily.

“See, I’m alright. I’m in one piece. I’ve just been fed by Clay,” I turn the camera trying to show her I was actually in one piece. Also showing the empty plate on my lap. “I’m being well taken care of.”

“As promised!” Nick says, popping his head into frame next to me. “Also thank you for making her bring a baby photo album,” he smirks, making me roll my eyes.

“I actually can’t believe you put it in my suitcase!”

“Awh, but hun, I had to give the boys something to tease you with,” she grins like a Cheshire cat making the guys laugh.

“I thought you were on my side,” I pout.

“Oh, but I am. I am always on your side.” She says in that motherly voice. “But since I won’t see them myself. It meant I couldn't tease you with the pictures myself.”

“Fine, I’ll let you get away with it. But I’m definitely going to hide it.”

“Oh, we’ll find it,” Clay promises, making me reach over George, hitting his arm. 

The call goes on for a little while longer. Ending when Mom goes to bed.

At 9 pm I gave up on trying to keep myself awake. Saying goodnight to the guys, pecking their cheeks. Retreating into Clay’s room after sending him a wink. Using that as a way of saying he was allowed to join me when he went to bed.

I quite literally plummet onto the bed the moment I’ve undressed. Wrapping myself in the comfortable sheets. Which smells delightfully like Clay. It was such a new scent but it was so comforting. Almost like I hadn’t left home. I tried to fight the sleep but almost instantly fell asleep.

It was close to 2 am when Clay was finally able to sneak into his own room. George had gone to bed around 11:30 but Nick stayed up another hour. Not waiting to risk waking those two he had to wait longer. 

Grinning when he saw her figure in his sheets, her face nuzzled in his pillow. Quietly taking off his clothes. He crawls into his bed, on the other side of her. With gentle hands, he pulls her figure closer to him. She grumbled a bit, Clay softly chuckles. But that’s enough to make her stir. Blinking slowly Y/n looks at Clay, a smile forming on her lips.

“Hey,” she says sleepily, a lazy smile on her lips.

“Hi cutie,” he grins at the lazily blinking girl. She snuggles closer to the tall male. “You tired, baby?” she nods against his chest. “That’s alright, go back to sleep,” he pecks the top of her head. He obviously hoped something would happen between him and the teasing minx he was currently cuddling. But he understands how tired she is. It was a long day for her. So much to digest. A whole new life to get used to. There would be many more days for just the two of them. The thought of it brought a smile to his face. Not that she saw.

“Love you,” the confession shouldn’t have shocked him as much as it had. Y/n often told him, Nick and George, that she loves them. But hearing it in real life felt so much different.

“Love you too,” he replied softly, giving her another peck on her head. Clay laid awake for a while longer. Not used to sleeping with someone. Especially, someone, he cared for as much as Y/n. 

He had spoken about it before. And he truly means it. He spoke about Nick and George being his soulmates. Maybe not in the traditional sense. But he thinks the same of Y/n, it might just be a little different. What he knows for sure is that he loves the three of them so much.

The next day I was happy yet surprised to find Clay Next to me. A quick flash of a memory reminding me that he had joined me late last night. He was still asleep cuddled into me. With a grin, I worm my right hand free. Reaching up to softly caress his face. My thumb traces his cheek, his slight stubble catching on my skin. I took my time appreciating his face. Loving the light freckles scattering across his nose and cheeks. He had told me he had them of course, I just hadn’t seen them. And now I get to stare at them as long as I want. Beautiful lashes decorating his closed eyes. Wild curly dirty blond hair framing his face. Plumb slightly pouty bottom lip. Tracing my thumb softly across the pink skin. I watch as it subconsciously gets pulled into his mouth. Licking his lip softly, making me bite my lip. I quite desperately wanted to kiss him, but he’s asleep.

“I can feel you staring.”

“Huh? What? No, I’m not!” I replied startled. Turning away like I wasn’t just appreciating his face. He chuckles, pulling me closer to him. Arms wrapped tight but lovingly around my waist. Giggling as he peppers the top of my head with kisses. Turning back to face him I smile up at him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks gently, his left hand coming up to cup my cheek. A blush flushing my cheek as I nod to answer him.

“It feels like home,” I tell him. I wasn’t necessarily talking about sharing the bed with him. But it all just felt like it was normal. Like I didn’t just move countries. This is my home. With my three boys. It’s meant to be this way.

“I’m glad,” his voice is soft. Slowly leaning in, giving me the option to pull away. Instead, I met him halfway. Our lips slotted together in a tender kiss. No tongue, just lips pouring out feelings of finally making the dream come true. 

“Hmm, I’m hungry,” I tell him romantically the moment we pull away. Biting my bottom lip with a grin.

“Idiot,” Clay chuckles. “Go get dressed, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Okies,” I peck his lips once more before getting out of bed. Clay doing the same, smacking my ass to get moving. I squeak watching him smirk as he goes to his closet. Leaving the room, I go to mine. 

When everyone was awake we made plans. Our schedules weren’t free for shopping for the next two weeks. So we freed a random Wednesday, Thursday and Friday for shopping and building. Clay would have done his face reveal by then. So he agreed to do a building stream with me, along with George and Nick.

[pricemarshfield]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

thank you for the ask, neutral!! time to show my deeply multifandom roots and not have any of these share the same fandom 🫡 below the cut because i’m chatty as hell

number one on the list is a recent one but absolutely my all-time favorite thing i’ve ever written: talk, a bg3/raphtav-and-also-haarlep-is-there smut oneshot

i don’t use this tweet here because it’s smut, but because no fic has EVER gripped me by the brain and haunted me for months until i wrote it like this one did and also because the devil’s hot. i laid awake at night in a cold sweat thinking about this even before i’d finished house of hope for the first time. i’m not even being hyperbolic here, this fic GOT me. also this fic converted me from haarlep-neutral to haarlep’s personal cheerleader. they’re so fun

my beloved darling tav already had a very strong characterization to me but i still feel like i Learned her through writing this, and certainly learned a lot about her dynamics with raphael and haarlep. enough that i’m braving actually writing a longfic for them, and feel free to hold me to this because otherwise it’ll languish in my drafts for another six months. but i’m actually formatting the first chapter for ao3, it’s Genuinely almost done !! promise

fun story about this is i cheerfully told my mom i’d finished writing something after i posted this and she asked to read it. i was like haha. well i’ll do that after work! and then i didn’t ♥️

-

number two on the list is what i’d have confidently said was the best thing i’ve ever writtennbefore talk, and that’s one of my dimension 20 big bang 2021 fics: plant a garden in the yard, then, a fantasy high/aelwyn & ayda friendship fic where they explore the deeply haunted tunnels beneath aelwyn’s deeply haunted house

it’s hard to overstate how personal this fic ended up being to me, enough that i hold it as close to my heart as my other d21bb fic which i wrote about grief while Actively grieving. both fics for that event ended up being a good deal more melancholic and introspective than i thought they would at the start, but this one Feels more intimate (for lack of a better word)

aelwyn & ayda are both characters that mean a lot to me on their own, and figuring out their friendship—prickly and uncomfortable as it starts—was honestly healing. there’s something really cathartic about writing a character who’s gone through such extraordinary circumstances in their canon finding a path Towards genuine connection and happiness, even if they don’t find it and Especially if things still aren’t perfect.

also the only time i’ve ever actually hit ao3’s comment length limit was on a reply to an absolutely lovely comment my friend shark left on it so :) the response to this fic was also really nice!

-

number three on the list is my queen b magnum opus even though i have one that’s like 8 times longer than it: teeth, the book 1 mc/poppy romance i craved/theoretically a smut oneshot that became something more.

this is a remix of another fic i wrote, so it feels weird to prop it up higher than the original, but i’m just so fond of this one. queen b is a very silly game and poppy min-sinclair can be a VERY silly character but my bea for this fic is another oc i grew deeply attached to, and i think the sheer self-indulgence of the fic shines through, in a good way.

also, i think the characterization in this is strong enough that i’ve been able to recommend it to friends with better taste who haven’t played queen b, and they’ve still enjoyed it! which is just IMMENSELY validating as a writer :’)

-

number four and five on the list are my niche oneshots which i wrote for a target audience of me, myself, and i, and i think that’s part of why they work as well as they do!

four is a session with dr. martin whitly, a prodigal son fic which focused on ainsley & martin, namely ainsley relying really heavily on her father, despite the fact he’s a serial killer that she Knows he’s manipulative and terrible.

the fact that i wrote this before the season 1 finale is astounding to me. i have never called characterization beats harder than this, and i feel comfortable saying that even though the actual plot points are quite different, and also even though ainsley isn’t canonically gay. that’s okay because i know and perceive the truth <3

prodigal son’s cancellation is something i’m hard-pressed to say i’m Upset about this far out, but i wish every day that the episode where some ainsley issues got addressed had lived to see the light of day.

this fic i Cannot recommend to people who haven’t watched prodigal son because it’s me extrapolating and picking at lines of dialogue that Suggest a lot without confirming much, but that’s also really fun, in its own way. some of the best fics i’ve ever read are enjoyable specifically as transformative media.

-

five is walk with the devil, a the martian/ares3some noir au which was honestly 90% a style experiment but like i fucking nailed it?? there was a stretch of a couple years where some of my best work were from smashing together whatever pairing i wanted to write with a bunch of prompts and seeing what i could make from it (werewolf au caitvi was also one, and a runner-up on this list)

this fic has a lot of hallmarks that i know people aren’t usually a fan of, but i love it. non-linear narrative. major character death but also maybe not, you won’t get closure and neither will the characters. actively avoiding concrete details in favor of a strong, hopeless tone. bringing in a ton of the cast for no reason. LOTS of 1940s slang. and because of that it’s my baby. weirdly i feel like my johanssen characterization is better in this than in either of my two canonverse fics?

i don’t know that i’d write fic for the martian like this again—a lot of what i like about it is really different from the more transformative fandom approach for the things that compel me to write—but i’m glad i did, because this fic is my darling. more people should be experimental in their fics because some of the weirdest stuff will almost always be some of the best !!!

anyway answering this made me so very hyped to write more once i’m off work !!!

[naomiknight-17]

It took six months, but I just finished the book From Here to Eternity by Caitlin Doughty

It is a fascinating book, talking about death and funerary practices from all over the world. It talks about grief and loss and ritual and celebration

The main reason it took so long to read is that after each chapter, I took a week or two to really mull over and digest what I'd read. There were times - like the chapter that dealt with Dia de Las Muertos and how it helped a woman come to terms with the loss of her baby - where the subject was especially painful and I had to take longer or more frequent breaks.

But I don't regret a moment of reading this book. I highly recommend it to anyone, especially anyone struggling to face or accept the fact of death.

It's not always an easy read, but I think it's important.

If you'll allow me to digress with a personal anecdote, my neighbour's mother recently died. Very recently. As far as I understand, she died at home and was kept there for a few days while the family gathered, and once everyone was together, they had a raucous party with loud music and dancing and someone talking over a loudspeaker. From my basement apartment, I couldn't tell what was being said, but it was clear that this was a celebration of the life of a woman who was deeply loved and respected.

If this had happened before I had discovered Caitlin Doughty's work, I may have been horrified by the whole thing. A woman died right on the other side of this wall?? And they kept the body at home for the wake/reception!? And had a loud party!?!? Isn't that disrespectful and creepy and weird?!?!

But no, it's not. Different cultures honor their dead differently. Home funerals/wakes/receptions can be beautiful and meaningful, and caring for the body can help give mourners purpose, give them one last chance to care for their loved one.

Maybe I want a natural burial at a beautiful cemetary in the next town over, and my mom wants a direct cremation with a memorial service at the funeral home her family has used for generations. And the neighbours wanted one last loud dance party at home.

I spoke to the neighbour the other day, because we were having our fence replaced and needed to communicate about it. She talked about the death briefly. She apologized for the noise and crowd of the funeral reception, but I told her not to apologize. I told her that whatever her family needed to do to celebrate her mother was fine with us.

And I don't think I would have been able to be mature and accepting about the whole thing if it weren't for learning about death acceptance and different funeral practices from Caitlin Doughty.

So yeah. Watch the Ask a Mortician YouTube channel. Read From Here to Eternity.

Connecting to the reality of death, I think, is making me less afraid of life in general

[figjelly]

Book Review: We Will Devour the Night by Camilla Andrew

Full disclosure: I received an eARC of this book from the author and this represents my honest opinion. Spoilers for When the Stars Alight are present.

I started We Will Devour the Night while moving across the continental United States. Which sounds crazy (spoilers: it was) but I REALLY wanted to dive back into the world Camilla Andrew created. Set twenty years after When the Stars Alight, the book hits the ground running. So, if you’ve not read the first book yet, I highly recommend doing so before starting We Will Devour the Night. Bonus points if you get to Andrew’s The Sanguine Sorceress.

At the end of When the Stars Alight, a lot had happened. Laila had rejected Darius. Darius had killed his brother. Lyra’s uncle/Laila’s father figure had to be sacrificed to permanently banish Darius’s father. Amira dropped the in-world inequivalent of nuclear bombs on Darius’s home country. Dr. Emika Hariken (minor character, love of my life), uses her chimera monster powers to eat a whole bunch of people. It isn’t important to know that last part; I just really love Dr. Hariken, no matter how many legs she has and I want everyone to know that. (She doesn’t even show up in this book!)

Anyway, that’s where we’ve left off. We find Laila Rose catching stars on the beach and being told her ex-lover has dropped in for a visit (awkward). It’s been twenty years since Mortos opened up to the wider world and Laila’s mom, Amira, is concerned that chaos magic and drugs (we’ll just call it drugs) are being smuggled through to Soleterea. While Darius spends the book trying to suss out who and how stuff is being smuggled, Amira gently “suggests” to Laila that she should go forth and be a good little politician. The Rose legacy is in danger. Without Laila, it dies off and Amira absolutely wants to control control control. Off Laila goes to Mortos because, oof, a major famine is going on. Wonder what caused that shrug emoji and question mark. Absolutely, she and Darius are going to cross paths and that’s dangerous for two-lovers who are star-crossed. We get some new characters who highlight the other side of this world. Mortals get more representation. As a mortal myself, I call that a diversity win. It’s Andrew’s second installment in her Essence of the Equinox trilogy so while we still get richly woven descriptions, there are new things to admire and reflect on. In addition to the familiar environments of Soleterea and Mortos, a rainforest is introduced as an important setting. Elina Panja is our anchor here. We get to experience the rainforest not only as a humid, oppressive sprawl of crushing green but also through her eyes. Elina’s rainforest breathes and embraces her as she acknowledges the power it holds. It reminds me very much of my favorite scene in When the Stars Alight where Lyra’s home in the forest wasn’t just a forest but a part of Lyra. Andrew effortlessly continues to spread a well-constructed quilt over the story and transforms a book into a world. Despite this, I am finding myself wishing we had more orientation. This world is becoming larger and the lack of names for geography, terrain, and water features does take me out of the environment once in a while. For a lot of readers, I imagine that this won’t hinder the overall enjoyment. It’s just a little thing I’ve begun to notice in my own experience. Like the environments, the characters continue to be delightfully constructed. We get new faces but Elina Panja is an easy favorite. She loves her family, is strongly rooted in her goals and priorities, and is effortlessly kind (and this kindness persists even when she is setting boundaries, which I adore). A familiar face from book one returns and Andrew keeps you guessing as to what the actual heck has happened (spoilers: you won’t find out until the very end and oh gosh I internally screamed at the revelation). Since this is the second book in a trilogy, Andrew has the hard work of trying to pick up the momentum of book one while setting up book three. For the most part, it’s successful. There is no shortage of tantalizing threads but I am a little concerned that we’re going to get eleventh hour decisions from Laila (and maybe others but Laila is my primary concern) that don’t match up with who we’ve gotten to know. But Andrew has earned more than enough good will from me to dive in, trusting and exciting

So, the big question: should you read Camilla Andrew’s We Will Devour the Night? Yeah. Especially if you read the first book and enjoyed it. After finishing it, I immediately needed to consume everything else the Essence of the Equinox series had to offer. I couldn’t get enough. I volunteered to read and give a review of this book because I wanted to read more as soon as possible. When the Stars Alight prepared the meal and set the table. We Will Devour the Night serves an extravagant feast.

Come hungry.

Stars: 4/5

TLDR: Messy politics, messy families, and messy love but Andrew balances the hell out of it all while building up to a heart-wrenching finale for everyone.

Click here to order your copy!

[mageofseven]

Our Child: My Turn

Beel Mpreg

Okay, sorry the title isn't that great; I didn't really know what to call this series, if I'm honest 😅

I hope you enjoy it and think it's better than the title though~

Also! I had to write some set up in here to explain how Beel gets pregnant, which isn't too interesting, but necessary since this is the first part of the series.

I promise that I'll be able to get to the good parts alot quicker with the other guys, but I needed to explain how this was possible in this series lol

So yeah! @astroseuss it's done!

I hope everyone enjoys this~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

MC knew how badly he wanted kids...that's why she hasn't really been engaging in the conversations her boyfriend would bring up about them.

Beel wanted nothing more than to be a daddy...and he'd be a great one. One of the best! The human didn't doubt that one bit.

Nor did she dislike the idea of being a mama. Kids are very sweet and just the idea of her and Beel having their own was a beautiful thing...

But pregnancy was a scary thing; giving birth even scarier. And that was between two human parents! To carry a half demon baby...she just knew so much could go wrong.

Always leaving when Beel brought the topic up, one that meant so much to him, really hurt the big guy and his Muffin hated it. She hated hurting him, but also didn't want to disappoint him... didn't want him to leave her.

What if he wanted kids so much that this was a deal breaker for him?

People break up with their partners for a lot less, but having kids? Some people see that as a fundamental part of relationships and life in general.

To lose Beel because of her fear? The human couldn't bear it. She loves him. He is her whole world; MC didn't think she could survive it if he left her

...at the same time, she knew this couldn't go on forever. She was hurting him and he deserved so much better.

"I'm sorry..." MC hung her head after she broke the news to her boyfriend.

"I know how badly you wanna be a dad. But I can't be the one to give that to you. Pregnancy is scary enough in the human way, but with a demon baby... there's just too many unknowns and I don't feel safe."

Tears started falling from her eyes.

"If you need to leave me for this, please do. I want you to--"

Suddenly she was pulled into a tight bear hug by her boyfriend. A tight one. Honestly, the human thinks she heard her back crack from the embrace.

"B-Beel..."

The man quickly released his hold on her, revealing tears in his own eyes.

"I never meant to push this on you." He told his girlfriend. "I didn't think about how hard it would be on your body. I'm sorry."

The demon held her once more, but this time was much more gentle.

"I'd never leave you. I want to be a dad but...if you don't want to be a mom then it's not worth it."

MC shook her head.

"Beel, I want kids just as much as you. I just... can't handle the process of making them."

The man leaned down and kissed his Muffin.

"Maybe we can find another way." He hoped aloud. "But...I won't force you into anything."

The human gave her boyfriend a sad smile.

"I know, big guy."

Like with most problems the man has, Beel talked this over with his twin, who was actually surprised; not because of the issue, but because he actually knew something about it.

Apparently, he noticed Satan reading a book on magical pregnancies just yesterday so the sloth demon recommended talking to him about what he knows.

And he did. At first, the blonde wasn't sure how to help the gluttony demon though.

Yes, Satan did finished that exact book yesterday that Belphie mentioned, but it was mostly filled with theoretical magick concepts for pregnancies or ones that were incredibly circumstantial, like how Lucifer gave birth to him.

Yet he did have another book on a similar topic he had yet to open so he told the other demon that he would read it and let him know if there was anything useful in it for him and MC.

The blonde approached him later that day with a method he believed could be useful to them, but Beel still worried about the process.

It was a ritual spell that required an initial carrier who, at minimum, needed to be 8 weeks along before transferring the pregnancy to their partner

Meaning that MC would still have to start the pregnancy, carry their child for the first two months at least before her boyfriend could take over and carry their child to term.

The redhead didn't like this and felt guilty just for thinking about this.

I mean, his Muffin explicitly told him that she never wants to be pregnant so to turn around and essentially ask 'Well, can you do it for just a little while?' felt so selfish, so dismissive of her fear.

After some coaxing from his twin, the big guy eventually does bring it up to his girlfriend

And though still scared...MC really wanted to make Beel a daddy.

So to hear that she just had to start off the pregnancy and not be forced to be the one to give birth? It felt like the best offer she could ever get.

When the two started trying for their baby, Beel was incredibly gentle and slow with her. He could still see the anxiety in her eyes and always reminded her that they can stop anytime.

But she kept things going; she loved this man so much that she needed this to work.

So when they discovered MC was pregnant, the human was just as happy as she was scared. Beel spoiled and comforted her the entire two months, especially when she dealt with morning sickness.

When the woman finally hit the 8 week mark, she was more than ready to get this child out of her.

With the help of Satan, the two were prepped for the ritual.

It took place in Beel's room. The blonde drew various runes on their bodies, from their chests to their arms and, most importantly, on their lower stomach area.

At this point, MC only had the slightest pouch, the only physical sign on her body that suggested a child could be inside her at this early stage. Still, Satan was extra gentle as he drew the rune in this spot.

Next step was to be pressed together, torso to torso. This part was subjective and gave the couple the freedom of choice on how they wanted to do this.

The two settled on Beel sitting on his bed with MC on his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist. He hugged her close, keeping them stomach to stomach, and lightly scratched her back in order to comfort the anxious human.

Satan performed the spell on them, causing each rune to glow green with a strangely warm sensation.

MC's breathing became difficult to manage; it wasn't pain she was feeling, but something so foreign and so uncomfortable that it overwhelmed her body.

Beel hugged her tighter to his body, whispering into her ear how good she was doing and that it would just take a minute or two longer.

Eventually, that strange sensation left MC's body and suddenly, Beel himself could feel it in the pit of his stomach.

His breath hitched and he buried his face in his Muffin's hair, letting the scent of her comfort him through this feeling.

Finally, Satan's chanting ended and subsequently, so did the rune glowing and that strange feeling in his stomach.

Beel kissed his girlfriend's hair before the two pulled back from one another. MC's small pouch on her belly was gone, but no one could tell too much had changed on Beel's stomach.

His lower abs seems a bit softer, less defined as they were before, but otherwise nothing seemed different on the man at first.

It wasn't until later that evening when Beel undressed to take a shower that he noticed something else had changed with his body.

The part that should be dangling between his legs was no longer there. Instead, it was replaced with a part much like MC's.

Most men would be upset at losing the part of them they associated their masculinity with, but Beel was nothing but amazed and intrigued with this development.

I guess the spell also prepared an exit for his baby? As he thought about it, the demon could only be grateful that the ritual also took this into account and ultimately accepted his new body part.

He just couldn't help being curious about what other ways his body will change.

As the pregnancy progressed and his belly grew, his baby grew, Beel practically fell in love with his new form.

He started being very, very gentle with himself now that his child was sharing his body. The demon no longer went to the gym since he was worried about putting any strain on his body while his baby was depending on him.

His appetite also increased a lot during this time.

Some days it seemed like Lucifer was ready to pull his hair out over trying to keep the kitchen stocked.

Often it would be filled to the brim and the night would come and Beel would make a kitchen raid.

In the morning, whoever was on breakfast duty would realize that there was no food to cook with.

Beel genuinely felt guilty about this, but his brothers always forgave him. After all, he's the Avatar of Gluttony and he's pregnant. Of course this was going to happen.

Whenever he got too upset about this, the pregnant man would cuddle in bed with his girlfriend and MC would make it all okay.

"Lucifer looked so stress..."

"I know, I know. It's okay though." MC laid her hand on his cheek. "He's not mad at you; it's not your fault."

"Belphie almost didn't get to eat breakfast..."

"But he did." The woman gave him a soft smile. "Because of you, Luce ordered food from Belphie's favorite restaurant and he got to eat his favorite meal"

"But he had to wait..."

Oh Beely. This man knew how hard it was to wait for food so he was really being sensitive about it.

MC leaned in and gave her boyfriend a sweet kiss before laying her forehead on his.

"It's okay." She repeated softly. "We all still love you and just want you and the baby to be happy and healthy."

She lowered her hand to his belly and the pregnant man did the same.

"You're really amazing, you know that?" She whispered, gently stroking his belly. "You're an amazing man, amazing boyfriend...an amazing Daddy."

Beel smiled back at her, feeling a bit better about things now.

This time, he was the one to lean in and kiss his girlfriend. It was a slow, but sweet; one the couple really took their time with as their hands gently caressed each other's bodies

No matter how insecure he got, MC was always able to comfort him and remind him of how wonderful he was. He was a loving man who always put those around him first after all.

Between no longer exercising and eating more food than he ever has, the man's belly grew quickly, but his family knew there had to be more to the growth than that.

That's when they decided to have Satan use the rune I've talked about in many other stories. It was drawn around his belly button and Satan laid his hands over it to collect the info.

That's when they discovered that Beel was carrying twins.

Oh how the couple cried tears of joy!

"Muffin... twins!" The man hugged his girlfriend in a tight embrace.

A bit too tight, but the woman still smiled and hugged the big guy back.

Once he pulled back, both of them realized just how hard they were both crying.

The couple had the same idea of kissing the other's tears away.

Unfortunately, this resulted in the two butting their noses together, which caused them to laugh before more carefully leaning into each other for a kiss.

They spent a lot time after that just talking to Beel's belly, to their twins, and telling them just how insanely loved they are and how they just can't wait to meet them.

Beel couldn't bear to take his hands off his belly the entire day; he couldn't help it. He wanted to be as close to his daughters as possible, as if them literally being inside of his him wasn't enough.

(I just found out my keyboard can make things like this??? So I guess I'm keeping it here lol)

When the pregnancy reached its end and Beel started feeling contractions, the man just... didn't recognize them?

As in, he definitely felt them, acknowledged them, thought 'dang those sucks' and just moved on with his freaking day 😂

Because it just didn't compute in his brain that they were contractions instead of just weird ass cramps

And this big guy had a pretty good pain tolerance so he suffered through these all day before he even expressed the slightest hint that he was in pain.

Belphie was the first one to notice something was up with his twin and brought it up at dinner.

"I'm fine." He told the table since all eyes were on him.

"You sure?"

Beel nodded before bringing more food to his mouth and chewing.

"Yeah, just been having some cramps today."

The whole table went silent.

That's when they noticed the big guy's breath hitch before rubbing his lower belly.

"Beely..." MC said carefully. "I think we should get you to a bed, just in case."

"Can I finish my plate first?"

....

"Sure, big guy..." 😮‍💨😅

Beel made quick work of his plate, but boy was his family tense.

Afterwards, MC took Beel into his room and kept him comfortable.

Eventually, his water broke and the contractions became too strong, even for him.

MC would periodically check his progress, but mostly laid in the bed and held her pained boyfriend.

She'd stroke his hair kiss his face anytime even the slightest wince was expressed.

Beel handle this pain as quietly as possible; not because he felt pressured to, but because it was more or less how he was conditioned to handle pain while growing up.

MC held him close and praised him sweetly, telling him it will all be okay and their twins couldn't wait to meet to meet their Daddy.

When the first daughter started crowning, the man's tears became thicker and he actually aloud himself to scream in pain at the burn.

MC checked below and had to help her boyfriend get the the baby's horns through in order for him to progress.

After that, it became a bit easier for the man.

His girlfriend comforted him through his time pushing out the shoulders and once he pushed the baby out far enough, the human was able to help tug the first baby out of him

And just like that, Arsenia was born.

Since her old sister stretched the way for her, Anais was birthed quicker and easier as well.

MC had the girls cleaned and wrapped up before handing one off to her anxious boyfriend.

With Arsenia in his arms and Anais in MC's, both parents wept happily.

"You did it, Beely." MC sniffled before leaning down and kissing the tired man's forehead.

Beel nodded, smiling before suddenly staring at her with these big sad eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh Beely Boy." She wiped some fresh tears from his face. "About what?"

"I just..." The shook his head be brushing a finger over Arsi's thin patch of hair. "I expected you to go through this for me before..."

"It's okay." The human assured him. "It's okay; you didn't know, not fully. It's not your fault."

"I love you, Muffin."

MC let out a small laugh.

"I love you too, Beely."

The two leaned in for one last kiss before showing their daughters in endless love.

[issie-https]

Working Mom

Dave Grohl X Reader

A/n: Just a little something while I work on the requests❤️ I recently got into a show called ‘Workin Moms’ on Netflix and I love it! I defo recommend giving it a watch.

Word count: 1091

Warnings: Daddy Grohl(not in a sexual way tho👀), angst, swearing

Masterlist

༺✩༻

“Y/n, wake up," I heard Dave whisper. I woke up and looked at the clock beside me and it read '7:02am'. "I can have five more minutes," I groaned. "You told me to wake you up at seven, it's two past seven," he replied. "Three more minutes then," I yawned. "Y/n. Get. Up." He said, nudging me to the edge of the bed. Then our baby, Alfie, started crying. "Alfie needs boob. I don't have any," he said, kissing my cheek. I groaned loudly and slugged to his room.

He came into Alfie's room mid feed and whistled. "You're so gross," I rolled my eyes and held back a laugh. "Says the one that eats food off her shirt," he replied, standing behind me and massaging my shoulders. "Would you rather me waste it or drop it on the floor," I said. "How much does this kid eat?" He asked. "However much he feels like every two to three hours," I replied. "I could eat that much," he said. "You do eat that much," I laughed lightly, "can you burp him?". He took Alfie and started patting his back. "Us drummers need their energy," he said. "And us mummy's need our energy but i don't empty the cupboards within five hours of the shop being done," I replied, going out the bedroom and into our room. "Maybe we should be an ingredient household," he mocked. "You'd eat flour," I said, changing into my blouse and skirt. Just as Dave was about to say something, Alfie burped, making Dave laugh.

"Okay, I'm off now. I've briefed you and once again, only call if he is dead or on fire," I said, grabbing my car keys and bag. "What happens in the death is in progress?" He joked. "David Eric Grohl," I scolded. "Have a great day," he said, kissing my lips. "You too. I know you can do this," I praised, heading out the door.

"Look who's back!" My work and best friend, Nicole, cheered as she ran over to give me a hug. "Back and more ready to work than ever," I smiled, squeezing her tight. "Sorry to ruin your mood but we have a meeting first thing," she said somewhat carefully. "And I'm already fantasising about killing Andy," I rolled my eyes as we headed to the meeting room.

"Ah, Y/n, welcome back! How's Dave and Alfie?" My boss, Andrew, said. "Dave is amazing, loving being a daddy. Archie is loving Dave. I'm loving... food, mainly," I replied. "Well, thank you for coming back. Let's jump right into the meeting," he said.

The meeting was very bland, just something about partnering with another company for a project.

I finally got back to my old office. I've missed the view. Through the completely glass windows, I could see the cityscape, windows glistening, cars dashing around and people tending to their everyday needs. My first piece of work since coming back was now on my desk, getting my blood flowing to get back to work.

Ten minutes after my lunch break and pump, my work phone started ringing. "Hello, you've reached Y/n at-" I started. "Y/n, help. He won't stop crying. I- I don't know w-what to do," I heard Dave say, distressed and tears evident in his voice. "Honey, what happened?" I replied, concern getting to me. "He won't stop crying and I've done everything. Feeding, diaper change, nap, play time, book. Everything," he cried. "Has he hurt anything or got nappy rash or got any more teeth coming through?" I asked, searching for a reason our son was literally wailing on the other side of the phone. "No, I've checked," he replied out of breath. "Okay, give me fifteen to twenty minutes and I will be there. Stay strong, handsome," I said, shoving my things back into my bag. "Okay. I love you," he said and hung up the phone.

"Andrew, I really need to go home. I'm so fucking sorry but Alfie is literally screaming murder," I rushed. "I understand. Will you be in tomorrow?" He replied. "Yes! Thank you!" I replied, yelling as I ran to the lift.

I got into my car and sped home, most likely earning myself a few speeding tickets on the way.

"Dave, angel, I'm home," I yelled from the front door, hearing Alfie screaming as loud as possible. "Help me," he cried, handing our son to me. "Look at me. You're doing fucking amazing, lots of people don't have dads because they can't handle it. But here you are, you're doing amazing," I praised.

I stripped Alfie down to his nappy and checked him all over for any indication of what could be making him make me and Dave go deaf. I lightly pressed on his stomach and I could feel the gas in his stomach. "He's got trapped gas," I sighed. "How? I burped him," he also sighed. "It happens to everyone, honey. He needs a little massage or some crap that I read in that stupid book," I said. "Teach me because if I have to go deaf from a child, I will shove my drumsticks in my chest," he sighed.

I showed him how to get the gas un trapped or whatever and the second he farted, he was silent. "Thank you so fucking much. I love you," he smiled tiredly, hugging me and kissing me. "Well, I'm home for the rest of the day and it's two forty-seven now. What should we do?" I asked, putting Alfie's outfit back on. "He missed nap time and I'm going to cry if I don't sleep soon so how about a nap?" He said, rubbing our sons back. "That sounds amazing I need to change into my pyjamas first so you have a little cuddle with the velociraptor," I replied, handing him the fucking dinosaur that came out of me. "I'd say he's a pterodactyl," he said, kissing our son on the head. "True. How about you put him to bed while I change," I suggested. "Deal," he agreed.

I changed into my pyjamas and saw Dave sprawled out on the bed in just his boxers. "Baby got back," I sang, slapping his ass. "How the tables have turned," he laughed as I pretty much just collapsed into bed. He pulled me to his chest and stroked my hair, kissing the top of my head. "I love you so much," he whispered. "I love you so much too," I replied, closing my eyes.

[accidentalslayer]

Word Count: 2,530

Warnings: Angst & Abuse. In particular, religious/cult abuse. Death, dying, and trauma after a near-death experience. Dissociative vibes. The end has a really reaffirming, comforting example of friendship. I wish everyone had a Josh in their lives.

Author's Notes: I really struggled on this chapter. Mostly because I've been sick for all of July and only recently started to recover. My spirit was willing to write but my flesh was weak. 🤣 Anyways, I'm still on my Angsty!Davina hype. This chapter delves deeper into that. Oh! By the way, I changed "Vincent Webb" in Chapter One to "William Webb" so as not to confuse everyone because there's already a "Vincent" in The Originals. It'll be William Webb moving forward.

This'll be the last Davina chapter for awhile.

Please feed me comments, hearts, and reblogs if you liked this 🌹You can find me on A03 as accidentalslayer.

Pairing: Yandere!Elijah & Klaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader (eventually) Summary: Davina gets an unexpected visit from her best friend Josh who has some, erm...concerns about her mental health. Also, life gets weirder for the young Harvest Girl when a truth is revealed. One that could change her life forever.

Recommended Song: "You Were Cool" by: The Mountain Goats

Chapter Three: Jonah's Whale (Part Two)

Cold hands shook Davina. Muffled sounds hit her ears. Someone was shouting, their voice fraught with urgency. It was enough to snatch her out of sleep and snap her eyes open. Peering through a blurred vision still addled by dreams, she looked up at the person who had a vice grip on her arm, then blinked.

It was a boy; dark-haired, dark-skinned, wearing an Abercrombie & Fitch polo shirt underneath a worn hoodie that looked like it'd seen way better days. Fastened around his wrist was a friendship bracelet that Davina immediately recognized as the one she'd made a year ago while living at St. Anne's. The initials 'J.R.' and 'D.C.' embellished its design in bright, rose-colored thread. The letters were joined together like clasped hands inside a heart that she'd gotten a migraine over weaving at the time. Davina was a much better artist with charcoal sticks than with cotton twine, anyways. Despite all the grueling hours of training she had gotten out of the Sanguinem Knot.

Groggily, Davina wondered if she could trust her sight?? Perhaps this was another nightmare or an illusion cast by Monique to trick her? Could it really be...

"J-Josh...?"

"Davina!"

It looked like Josh. It sounded like Josh. It bit its lip nervously like Josh. But Davina needed more proof just to be sure. Illusion magic had its limits. And memories weren't easily replicated. So, she asked the boy something that only the real Josh would know:

"What was my favorite show in 9th grade? If you don't answer it correctly, I swear to the goddess, I'll scream so loud the whole compound will hear it."

"Josh" released hold of Davina's arm, a confused frown upon his lips, "Uhh, that's a trick question, right?? You told me your mom only let you watch TV for "educational" purposes. I was the one who got you into binge-watching stuff for fun. Uhhhh, but hey, Davina, your books are-"

"List the three most embarrassing things you did in grade school. Your Sonic and Winx Club phase doesn't count."

"It SO does."

"Screaming in...three...two...one-"

"Okay!!!" The boy who might be Josh exclaimed, throwing both hands up in the air and conceding to her demands, "I stole a pack of cigarettes out of my homeroom teacher's purse on a dare then puked when I tried smoking too many of them to impress my crush. My mom made me wear this baby bear costume on Halloween and I had to go trick or treating in it. I accidentally sent nudes to my uncle-"

"Josh! It IS you!"

"I mean. Yeah, duh. Why wouldn't it be?? I texted you yesterday about coming over, remember??"

Despite being a vampire with heightened senses, Josh didn't see how fast Davina moved from her seat to pull him into a hug. And he was surprised by how hard she squeezed him, like he was a life raft, or buoy on some stormy sea. Josh took it all in stride, though. He knew Davina well enough to understand that she was going through Hell now that she was back with the Coven. But there was something...off...about her. Different than before. His eyes strayed to the steel table he'd found her crouched over and fast asleep upon. To the book pile she'd been thumbing through...

Every tome on the table was scorched. Strange writing had been scrawled across their pages in Davina's penmanship. Josh didn't recognize the language. The words seemed foreign. Unearthly. Almost alien. But there was one symbol he could decipher amidst the chaos; it was the number 7. It repeated (over and over again) in varying fonts and sizes.

Josh waited for Davina to pull away from the hug before asking if she was okay. Although, judging by the dark circles underneath her eyes, it was a safe bet to assume that she wasn't.

"I'm fine," Davina replied with a smile on her face, "Just passed out while studying these grimoires. They're super old-fashioned. Like, created in the Dark Ages or something. The Coven says they're mandated reading material for us Harvest Girls. But between you and me? I'd rather be studying Grapes of Wrath."

Josh grimaced in response, "Yeesh, that bad?"

"The worst, actually."

"They look, uhhh-"

Josh trailed off, trying to think of the right word to use, but ended up saying the one that was on the tip of his tongue:

"-crispy."

Davina pointedly ignored his comment. Instead, she offered Josh some tea with a tired sigh.

"I'm more into the red stuff these days...but sure. I'll have some if you do." He answered her, trying to keep his voice light and carefree, "Anything in those cabinets that'll help me walk in the sun??"

"Nope. Just peppermint."

"Damn! Foiled again!"

This merited a smirk from Davina. Josh took the win, following his friend across the conservatory, to a small alcove where an electric kettle and tea service was laid out for anyone's use. There was even a convection oven, accompanied by all the fixings for toast. Davina flipped the power button on the kettle. Silently, she watched as it began to heat up and boil their water. Josh tried filling the empty space with conversation.

"So, it looked like you were having a nightmare. A really bad one. Wanna talk about it?"

Davina made no comment besides a quick shrug and a grunt. She seemed more preoccupied with choosing the mugs they'd drink out of. Or the tea they'd make. Undeterred, Josh pressed the issue harder, hoping his friend would open up to him.

"You know," he continued speaking, "they say that telling a friend about your nightmares can help them seem less scary. Like, once you talk about it, you'll see how ridiculous the dream was. Sometimes, I still have nightmares about waking up in class buck naked, and Klaus is there..."

Davina rose an eyebrow, "Who's 'they'??"

An embarrassed laugh rolled out of Josh, cheeks reddening upon admittance that it came from a self-help book he was reading; 'The Dark Side of the Light Chasers' by Debbie Ford. He'd found it laying in a cardboard box on the side of the road somewhere. He'd been going through each of its chapters (sporadically) ever since he'd found it.

"I dunno, the author writes about meditation and meeting all your different selves inside your head like Doctor Strange. I did this one exercise at the end of a chapter about self-love and acceptance and uh, I met the "me" I was before. Before all the fangs and the blood and the suddenly burning in the sun. Fun times, haaa! Anyways, look. I'm here for you, Davina. If you need a shoulder to cry on? An ear to listen to you?? We're friends! And that's what a friend does! Well, uh. I guess that's what I think a friend should do-"

Josh frowned, then said quietly:

"-I haven't really heard a lot from you lately..."

The electric kettle shut off. The water was ready. Davina poured the boiling liquid into two, footed mugs that she had chosen. Then, dipped the tea sachets in with care. The aroma of mint filled the air and the space in-between where Josh waited patiently for Davina to say something. Anything! But she didn't. So, he continued to talk while she listened, hoping that his friend would participate eventually. He was starting to get a bit frustrated by how silent Davina was being.

"You know, there's this story in that book about a person who was also having trouble sleeping. His name was Jonah. That dude from the Bible. He'd heard the voice of God tell him to pass judgment on the city of Nineveh and he reeeally didn't want to. So, he ran. Then, a whale ate him, and literally only spat him up when he accepted what he was running from. I'm not a religious person but what I'm trying to say here is-"

"That I shouldn't go on boating trips?" Davina posited, finally adding to the conversation. She offered Josh his cup of tea afterward.

Josh made a sour face while accepting the tea. He obviously didn't appreciate her wry sense of humor here...

"No! That you shouldn't run away from the things you're afraid of because you'll just make it worse for yourself. And in the end, you'll have to face it anyway. But unlike Jonah, you don't have to face it alone, Davina. I know you're going through shit after dying and being resurrected. Who wouldn't be, right?? But lately, I've been feeling like you're shutting everyone out. You haven't texted me or Cami back in weeks. What's up with that, huh??"

Now, it was Davina's turn to make a sour face.

"I'm just really busy here, Josh. Being a Harvest Girl means I have responsibilities to the Coven."

"You hate the Coven!"

"I know, but...I'm still a Harvest Girl."

"And I'm your friend, Davina! Cami is too! Don't we deserve to at least know that you're okay?!"

"The Coven said I couldn't use my phone here in the compound. They said they want me to focus on studying and classes only. No distractions..."

"And you couldn't sneak on the phone to tell us? We've been worried about you! Cami and I have been worried sick! Fuck the Coven!"

Davina rubbed her temples in response, "Josh..."

"Davina."

"What's really going on?? You're acting weird as hell."

Josh sipped his peppermint tea nervously, then flinched. He'd misjudged how hot it still was and burnt the roof of his mouth in the process. "Mm, this sure is some great leaf juice you've brewed-"

"Josh!" Davina exclaimed, starting to run out of patience, "Enough stalling. Spill. Now. What's up with you?"

With grim reluctance, as if he were pulling teeth, Josh revealed the (true) reason for his visit. It all came down to one name. A name Davina should have guessed was involved from the very start:

"It's Marcel. I-I know you guys aren't on speaking terms right now, but uhh...he's been worried too. About you. About sending you back here. About pretty much everything, to be honest. He wants to know how you're doing? If you're doing okay? Aaaand...he needs your help with a spell."

Davina groaned, "UGH. Of course he does! When does he NOT need me to do his dirty work?!"

"This isn't for him. It's for Cami! The curse on her uncle is getting worse, Davina. He's going nuts in that church of his. Marcel was wondering if there was any way to reverse whatever the Coven put on him? I don't think he has much time left..."

At the mention of the Coven, Davina tensed. She placed her cup down on the alcove's table. There was an air of finality to the gesture.

"Josh, it's different now. I can't do magic for him anymore. I can't do magic for anyone anymore... The Ancestors won't allow me. And if I break the rules again?? They'll do worse things than what they did in that abyss to me. Marcel doesn't care because he's not going to die, Josh!! Neither will you! Father Kieran and Cami are going to Heaven but I only have one place to go after this!! I can't mess up my last chance with the Ancestors...or the Coven. I won't."

Davina expected Josh to argue. Clearly, he had a stake in whatever drama Marcel was cooking up. She could see it in his eyes. A quiet desperation, like a fly caught inside a clever spider's web. Why else would he be doing this? But to her surprise, Josh only nodded. He didn't fight to change her mind.

"I'll tell Marcel you're doing fine," Josh said, "No, scratch that. I'll tell him you're doing better than fine, you're doing awesome! And that...you can't help him anymore."

"Josh, I-"

"Davina, don't."

Soft arms wrapped around Davina unexpectedly and cut short whatever apology she planned on saying. Now, it was Josh's turn to give his friend a sudden hug.

"Don't ever apologize for setting a boundary. You don't owe me or Marcel or the world shit! Okay?? If anything, we owe you. I owe you. You saved me from Klaus. You gave me back my control."

He squeezed Davina tighter in his embrace.

"Promise me that you'll take care of yourself and if you need to talk, that you'll call me. Or text. Or Instagram works, too. I'm always there to listen. You're my best friend, Davina. And the strongest person I've ever met."

"You're pretty strong too, you know?"

Josh chuckled, "I'm starting to be. Couldn't have done it without your help, Super Witch."

The mood lightened. Josh and Davina spent the rest of their time together, reminiscing. Bonding over the good memories they had. Those sacred spaces in-between murderous witches, miracle babies, Machiavellism, and The Originals where they were allowed to just be kids. And do things that kids do. Although Josh's gaze strayed to the pile of scorched books once (or twice), he made no comment on them.

Josh left somewhere around midnight. The smile in her heart left along with him, returning Davina back to reality. She ruminated while she cleaned up the mess leftover from making tea. Images of the nightmare swirled inside her mind. Filled her with dread. She was no stranger to dark dreams or terrible visions, especially after her experience working for Marcel, but this one felt...different. It felt ominous. Like the first scream of a hurricane siren.

Davina...

Or the rumblings of a storm.

Find her, Davina Claire...

As she was shelving the last item away, the floor began to shake, and the walls trembled. Her ears rang with the sound of the voice. Nearly bled. Its volume had increased tenfold since the last time she'd heard it. Davina braced herself against the onslaught, using all her strength to ignore it. But the voice proved too powerful.

She fell upon her knees and shouted, "I CAN'T! I can't help you!! I can't do ANYTHING for anyone anymore!! Don't you understand?!? I am the girl bound in chains! I am shackled to a people who HATE me and control my every move! So, to Hell with New Orleans! Let this city be swallowed up! It's NOT a French Quarter Witch's problem!!"

There came a pause in the quaking and thunder. The stillness that came afterward was thick with tension. It was as if the entity was considering its next words carefully.

You are not a French Quarter Witch, fire maiden. You are a Prophet. Called to a higher purpose. To serve the light that burns within you...

Find her, Davina Claire, and together the two of you shall be free.

"W-wait, what?! I'll be...free?"

No further elaboration was given to Davina. She called out to the entity several times. All she got was silence and stillness in return. Davina stayed in the conservatory, amongst the potted plants, until dawn broke and colored the sky with hues of gentle pink, yellow, orange, and sky blue. And in a semi-stupor, Davina began to repeat a single word underneath her breath...

Free.

[westadventure24]

Day 4 - That’s history!!!

Hello all! I apologize for such a late update. I had my usual morning post all done and ready to go and then no service when I went to post.

The chilly temperature this morning in Custer woke me up early so I decided to take Lily for a walk around the lake as the sun came up. Lily enjoyed all the strange smells and I think she was trying her best to hunt down that bison who was in camp the night before. (Side note, when we pulled out this morning the behemoth beast was standing right at the edge of the road. I guess he likes camping!) taking that lake walk this morning was contagious. Everyone went walking by the lake in their own time, but Todd was the only one lucky enough to see any horned wildlife. Well, I guess Mom saw some too since she went with Dad. 😊

After walking and organizing, we headed towards Mountain Rushmore. A dear friend of mine, Joanie, told me once “It is like nothing you have ever seen. Indescribable.” She was not wrong!

As Todd maneuvered the camper van through the S curves and beautiful mountains, there it was. The feeling brought me back to that same excitement when I was a kid screaming, “I see the Eiffel Tower!!!” as we neared King’s Island. But this…WOW! To see one and only completed, hand carved, rock sculpture of the faces of four of the most influential presidents U.S. history is truly unbelievable. Seeing it in books and pictures just doesn’t do it justice. Even Lily stopped to look!!! I asked Mom if she ever thought she would see it in person…her response was nothing short of what anyone reading this would expect, “No, I did not.” I am so thankful that she was able to see what some might call the 8th Wonder of the World. (I don’t know if anyone actually calls it that except the guy I heard say it while we were there, but it sounded feasible to me!)

After our visit to Mount Rushmore, we made our way to Deadwood, SD, where Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane are laid to rest. After watching, the HBO series of the same name a few years back, I couldn’t wait to visit the famous western gold mining town. I have to say, I was highly disappointed in the town as it was not the original or even the close reproduction that I had expected, but much more commercialized with casinos and souvenir shops being nearly every establishment on Main Street. We didn’t let that ruin our fun! Todd’s hopes were deflated when he discovered the brothel had been shut down by the FBI over 40 years ago. Just kidding….he had no idea…didn’t even know the sign was there when I took his picture!! 😂

While Calamity Jane always raised a ruckus, I knew Dad would give her a run for her money. A local bartender recommended the Oyster Bay restaurant for the best pizza in town, so off we went. Like everywhere else, they had slot machines. What we learned is that not only Dad, but Mom, had missed their calling….millwright and customer service worker, pfft! They should have moved west and became gamblers! We gave them each $2 and Todd showed them how the penny slot worked. Mom won $9.64 and Dad won $7.35! They nearly won enough to pay for their lunch AND were smart enough to cash out and be done!

After making a brief stop at the Bar where Wild Bill Hickok was shot while holding a hand of Aces and Eights, we decided to head out of town after making one last stop at Mt. Moriah cemetery where Bill, Jane and the town’s first sheriff, Seth Bullock, were buried. I mean, we were there, right? Why not?

On the road again, Wyoming brings a different kind of terrain….many meadows of antelope, but coolest of all was seeing Devil’s Tower in the distance as we made our way to our campground in Moorcroft. I guess I have been doing this way too long both Mom and Todd just asked if I had posted. Until tomorrow family and friends! ❤️