#we're alive and thriving

[madrabit]

“You should tell him, you know,” his boyfriend says, and Bojan frowns some more. “Don’t think I didn’t see you blush, baby,” Jan continues, “You should tell Nacko what you want. Only way to make it happen…” Bojan only sighs in response, trudging over to the bed so he can sit next to Jan, the guitarist’s arm coming up around his shoulders and hugging him close immediately.

We're alive, guys ✨️

So this is for @da-proti-toku-grem She posted about having this idea and we took a while to write it, but here it is! I hope you like it, Maca 🩷

[fairylando]

my goat.

[sparklyoats]

Tbh.. i genuinely feared having a child would be way more difficult than it seems to be😳

[maliro-t]

everything i've heard about the candela live show is solidifying the direct line i've seen since launch from sagas of sundry to where we are now and I'm just so 👐👐 excited about it

[ronancer4evr]

My Ronance rambling

They are so fhdgsgjf and bcuz i love them i made a lil tribute or whatever

Rambling part:

why are they getting so flustered over being "officially friends" ?? Like thats the gayest thing someone could say. More like officially gfs haha

The way Nancy stares at Robin. Like its actually just full on STARING with heart eyes i am not making it up

Parralel between them holding hands, scared in the dark like Lumax🤨🤨 sus. or holding hands like jopper in s3. Or like byler in s2. So yeah holding hands = true love

They always team up togheter

Nancy has a poster of the lead singer of Blondie. AND SHE LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE ROBIN!! She also had a poster of Ted Cruise who kinda looks like Steve. She calls it old. However, she still listens to Blondie😘

There was a moment in Rebel Robin where Rob mistook Nancy for Tammy. Robin had a crush on Tammy. Nancy and Tammy look similar. Robin has a repressed crush on Nancy real??

All of Nancy love interests started with some kind of friend convo... (Nancy telling her mom Steve is just a friend, saying Johnathan and her are just friends to that lady in the police station AND the officially friends thing with Robin)

Nance had this whole arc of people not listening to her. Then Robin came around and did EXACTLY that. Talked about misogyny, remember all of her music artists from her tapes, etc.

Random theory I just came up with part:

I find this frame very interesting. It first caught my eye with the whole "when blue meets yellow in the west" thing- but i think it could signify how Nancy moved on from Steve to Robin. Thats why steve is on the left (like left behind) and where moving forward with Robin

Another example of moving on from Steve to Robin

Also blue and yellow being used but not in the west way

Duffers usually use the scenery for many things so you can't call me delusional

Last words:

Natalia and Maya ship them like crazy on interviews. Every chance they get. Absolutly love them <33

[tev-the-random]

If I had a nickel for every time I told someone I use Tumblr and they reacted by staring at me and either saying "Tumblr still exists??" or "why though??"

Let me tell you, I'd have more than two nickels

[trashpuppyy]

thank you, @jakei95

underverse and xtale were huge things that got me into drawing and animating. it's very sad to see such an amazing creator leave the fandom and project she loves because of unreasonable people (smokin.corn said it best), but sometimes it's time to move on to more colorful, peaceful places

i do wish jakei and nyx the best in whatever jobs and projects they tackle next, and i know this fandom will keep cross alive and healthy and thriving while they're gone

and i do hope one day, this fandom can be better, and if jakei still wants to she can eventually return to the game she loves

i know a lot of people are worried this is the end, and while jakei is an amazing, irreplaceable creator we will all remember and have a special place for in our hearts, there are a lot of amazing creators out there to discover and be inspired by! this is not the end of the fandom, as long as we're all still kicking--supporting other creators, creating ourselves, and spreading the works of artists we love while being as kind as we can to everyone around us!!!

whether or not 0.8 is the very last episode, we will keep underverse and xtale alive in our hearts💝

don't lose heart and keep creating!!

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened. :)" -the legend, Dr. Seuss

[greyskyflowers]

I have found there's very specific things I just really enjoy in fics about Edwin and Charles's romantic relationship.

So, I honestly just can't picture Charles anything other than very inexperienced at intimacy but so excited. Like a teenager feeling up his first girlfriend in the back of a car or under the bleachers. Excited, nervous, eager to please and just kind of in awe of being able to touch someone like that. He's got almost no idea what he's doing but he's 100% open and willing to learning.

I think he always ends up smiling into kisses, a little lopsided grin that's pleased as hell. He always offers a bunch of little encouragements and comforts You're doing great. I know it's a lot but I've got you. You feel good.

And lots of nipping, bites, and marks because no one will ever convince me Charles is not a hickey man.

Charles thrives on positive feedback and Edwin makes sure to always give praise.

Edwin is just kind of overwhelmed with intimacy. Being intimate with someone is a lot, especially if you haven't had it before and you've kind of built it up in your head.

So, I always feel like Edwin is in this constant closer no that's too close wait come back push and pull of anxious affection that has him leaning into every touch even though he's also trying to pull away at the same time.

Lots of bitten off noises, hums and gasps. He touches like he's scared he's going to break something or it's all going to disappear.

If they have to stop because it gets to be too much for Edwin, Charles doesn't ever look upset. He's pleased as hell to be doing any of this. He can't think of anything Edwin could ever do to disappoint him.

Careful, light, sure touches because the only intimacy they both really have is terrible. Edwin with the boys who held him down and hell. Charles with his dad.

I think Charles shows his love by loving someone and Edwin shows his love by letting himself be loved.

Charles wasn't able to show love to his family or his friends, who weren't friends at all. I personally imagine he had lots of girls he messed around with while he was alive with but it never went beyond that into something serious.

He can't show his love to humans, like Crystal, because it makes them look crazy. He can't hold a living girl's hand in public without her getting looks. They can't kiss or even talk with other living humans around without it being strange.

He can show his love to Edwin in a way he can't show it to anyone else.

Edwin is proud to be seen with Charles. He can talk and touch and be with Charles regardless of who's around. I personally like the idea that ghosts can feel other ghosts, as if they were living people or something close to that.

So, being with Edwin feels like he's with Edwin.

I just think once the ice is broken on what their relationship is, that he'd be all over it. Holding hands, quick kisses, hugs, sitting next to each other or all tangled together. Also a big fan of Charles coming up behind Edwin, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch whatever it is he's doing.

Edwin didn't have close friends or family when he was alive, at least that we're aware of. Then he spent decades in hell where his only touch was painful, terrrifying, never ending.

Letting someone touch him, put him in such a vulnerable position physically and emotionally, is a big ask. That's why he's never done it or seem to have even contemplated it until he realizes his feelings about Charles.

He lets Charles touch him, and protect him, and know him more than anyone one else living or dead. It's easy to open himself up for Charles to love him.

I also feel like there's such a comfort level there that Edwin could say I think I'd like to try *insert action here* and Charles would be like yep yep we can do that or Charles could say I've always wanted to try *insert action here* and Edwin's like okay I'll find a book and read up on it with a fluttering of anxious excitement.

Do I also personally like to think bdsm dynamics, sexual and/or nonsexual, are present in their relationship? Yes. Absolutely. 100%.

[estellan0vella]

More Than Enough Time: L. Mh Lee Minho x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 11.6K

CW: Anxiety, Menace Jisung, Secret Simp Minho

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II

The room is alive with the sound of clinking glasses, murmured conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter that slices through the warm air of the grand banquet hall. The dim, golden glow of chandeliers drips overhead, casting a soft light across the elegantly dressed guests.

You sit at the round table, nervously smoothing your hands over the silk of your champagne-coloured gown. Every so often, your fingers toy with the sapphire-encrusted hairpin holding your hair in place, a gift from your grandmother. It's more than a piece of jewellery; it's a talisman tonight, something to cling to.

Beside you, Jisung, your best friend, fidgets in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table. He's dressed in a sleek black suit that contrasts nicely with his hair, but despite the confident exterior, you know he's just as anxious as you are. But for once, it feels like your nerves are trying to outdo his.

"Fuck, why did I agree to this?" Jisung mutters under his breath, glancing at you with wide eyes. "I swear to God, Y/N, if I have to stand up there and give a speech, I might just throw up all over the stage."

You force a chuckle, though it feels weak in your throat. "Join the club. I feel like my stomach's doing backflips. What if I trip in these shoes? What if I can't say anything at all and I just stand there like a fucking idiot?"

Jisung snorts, giving you a sympathetic look. "We're both fucked."

Across from you, Bang Chan, the Alpha Phi fraternity president, leans back in his chair, sipping on a glass of whiskey. His black hair is slicked back, giving him a polished, suave look that almost distracts from the fact that he's one of the rowdiest guys you know. He gives you both a grin that's way too confident for your liking.

"Relax," Chan says. "You guys are gonna crush it. You wrote that article like badasses, now just get up there and take the damn award."

Jisung glares at him. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Football Star. You literally thrive on people staring at you."

"Exactly," Chan grins wider. "Which is why you should listen to me."

You shift in your seat, glancing around the table. You're surrounded by Alpha Phi members tonight, all of whom seem a lot more comfortable in their skin than you feel in yours.

Hyunjin sits next to Chan, looking ridiculously perfect as always. His long black hair falls just past his shoulders, and he's tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table while staring off into the distance. He's receiving an award tonight too, for something in the arts, and though he looks calm, you can see his jaw clenching every few seconds.

"Stop staring at the program," Hyunjin mutters to you without even glancing your way. "It's not gonna change."

You blink, realizing that you've been staring at the folded piece of paper in front of you, the one listing all the awards for the night. Yours and Jisung's, The Innovative Journalism Award, is still about fifteen minutes away, and the waiting is fucking killing you.

"Fuck," you whisper under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

Felix, sitting on the other side of Jisung, notices your stress. He gives you a soft, warm smile, his freckles standing out against his fair skin. "You'll do fine, Y/N. We all believe in you."

"Yeah," Jeongin chimes in from the end of the table. His hair falls slightly into his eyes as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. He's getting an award too, something for fashion design. "We all know you're the smartest one here, so just relax, okay?"

You nod, but the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle. It's not just about the award. Sure, winning an award for the article you and Jisung wrote, a deep dive into the theory that Jack the Ripper might have been a woman, is huge.

It's the culmination of months of research, late nights, and too many cups of coffee. But the idea of standing in front of a room full of people, having all eyes on you, waiting for you to say something intelligent... it's suffocating.

Minho, who's been quiet up until now, finally speaks. He's seated directly across from you, his deep cherry red hair gleaming under the soft light of the chandeliers. "You'll be fine," he says simply, his voice calm and steady. "Just breathe."

You meet his gaze for a second longer than you intend to, feeling the weight of his words. Minho is always like this. Quietly confident, never too loud or overbearing. He's the type who can make you feel like everything's going to be okay, even when you're pretty fucking sure it's not.

"You make it sound so easy," you mutter, breaking the eye contact and taking a quick sip of your drink, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

Hyunjin shifts beside you, his gaze flickering to the stage. "It's easy for Minho because he's never nervous. Must be nice to be so fucking chill all the time."

Minho shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half-smile. "Just a talent, I guess."

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Well, share some of that talent with us because I feel like I'm about to shit myself."

There's a round of laughter at the table, but you can't join in. The knot in your stomach tightens as the minutes tick by. Your hands, now resting on the table, feel clammy. The silk of your gown is suddenly too heavy, clinging to your skin in a way that makes you feel trapped. You know no one else can hear your heart pounding, but it feels deafening in your own ears.

You glance at the stage again, watching as the current award is being presented to some group for their contributions to environmental science. You're not even paying attention to the speech, just counting down the minutes, waiting for your turn. You can feel it creeping up on you. The anxiety. The tightness in your chest, the shallow breaths, the overwhelming need to get the fuck out of this room.

Suddenly, it's too much. The noise, the lights, the heat. You need air. Now.

"I—uh—I need to use the restroom," you stammer, pushing your chair back.

Jisung glances at you, concern flashing in his eyes, but he nods. "You good?"

You nod quickly, too quickly. "Yeah. Just nerves."

Before anyone can stop you, you're on your feet, weaving through the tables and out of the banquet hall. The moment you step into the hallway, the cool air hits your skin, and it's a relief, but only for a second. Your heels click against the marble floor as you make your way down the corridor, your breath coming in shallow gasps now.

You find a small side room and slip inside, closing the door behind you. The silence is almost jarring after the noise of the banquet hall, but you're grateful for it. You lean against the door, pressing one hand to your stomach and the other to your forehead. The room feels like it's spinning, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus, trying to breathe.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you whisper to yourself, feeling the panic rising in your chest.

You yank the sapphire hairpin out of your hair, letting your carefully pinned-up style fall apart, the soft strands brushing against your bare shoulders. The pin feels cold in your hand, a grounding sensation, but it's not enough to stop the wave of anxiety crashing over you.

Your stomach twists painfully, and you press harder against it, as if that will somehow make it stop. But it's not working. Nothing's working.

You lean over slightly, bracing yourself on your knees, trying to remember what the hell you're supposed to do in moments like this. Breathe. You're supposed to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Simple. Easy. Except it's not.

Back in the hall, the crowd shifts with anticipation as the MC steps up to the podium, smiling widely at the gathered guests.

"And now, the recipients of this year's Innovative Journalism Award. For their brilliant work on the investigative article delving into the theory that Jack the Ripper may have been a woman, please welcome Han Jisung and Y/N L/N!"

There's a pause. Jisung's heart nearly jumps out of his chest as he hears your name. He looks over to the seat you left empty minutes ago, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes turning to him.

"Fuck," Jisung mutters under his breath, pushing his chair back and standing up.

The nerves that were already gnawing at him double in intensity. His best friend isn't there to share the load, and now, he's completely on the spot. He glances over at Minho, who's been silently watching him.

Minho, though still seated, leans over slightly. "Where the hell is Y/N?"

Jisung runs a hand through his hair, his heart racing. "She, uh... she went to the restroom or something. She's been freaking out all night. I think she might be having one of her moments, man."

Minho's expression darkens slightly with concern, and he pushes his chair back. "I'll go find her."

"Wait, wait," Jisung hisses, grabbing Minho's wrist as he's about to stand. "What the fuck do I say to them up there?"

Minho glances toward the stage where the MC is starting to look a little confused, waiting for someone to approach. "Make up some bullshit. Tell them she had to take a phone call or something, just so they don't start asking too many fucking questions."

Jisung frowns, his anxiety doubling. "Dude, I can't do this shit on my own."

Minho's eyes soften for a second, something almost rare to see from him. "I know. But you've got this. Just give her the credit she deserves, take the award, and make sure someone films it so she can see it later. Chan will do that. I'll make sure she's okay."

Jisung clenches his fists for a moment, feeling the pressure crushing him. The thought of going up there alone, without you, makes him feel like he's about to pass out. But when he looks into Minho's eyes, he knows he's right. You're the priority right now.

"Alright," Jisung says finally, his voice tight with nerves. "Just... just make sure Y/N's okay, alright? You know how she gets with this kind of shit."

"I'll handle it," Minho nods, his voice low but firm. He claps Jisung on the shoulder. "Now go get the fucking award."

Jisung exhales sharply, watching as Minho slips away from the table, moving swiftly through the hall. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of what he has to do next.

"Chan," Jisung mutters to his friend, who is still seated at the table, looking between him and the stage.

"Yeah?"

"Film this for Y/N, alright? Minho's going to find her."

Chan raises an eyebrow but nods, pulling out his phone without a word. Jisung swallows down the rising panic and heads toward the stage, his steps feeling heavy as the crowd watches him.

Minho doesn't waste time as he leaves the banquet hall, moving swiftly down the corridor. His steps echo softly in the quiet hallway, the muffled sounds of the award ceremony still filtering through the door behind him.

He's seen you spiral like this before, and his heart tightens in his chest. You're tough as hell most of the time, but when the anxiety hits, it hits hard. Minho knows that look in your eyes all too well. The panic, the overwhelming urge to escape. He's watched you, time and again, try to fight it, to shove it down, but sometimes, it's just too much.

You're not the type to cry during these moments; that's not how your panic works. Instead, you go silent, withdraw, pull yourself in so tight that it's like you're trying to disappear. Minho's learned to recognize the signs, the little tells. Like how you start fidgeting with your hair or that sapphire hairpin you always wear when you're stressed. The one that belonged to your grandmother. It's your good luck charm, though tonight it seems like it's doing little to stave off the rising storm inside you.

As Minho searches for you, he opens door after door, moving quickly but not frantically. His mind stays focused, methodical. He doesn't need to be panicked; that won't help you. He knows you well enough to know where you'd go in moments like this. Somewhere quiet, somewhere empty.

Finally, he reaches a small room at the end of the hallway, and when he pushes the door open, he sees you.

You're pacing back and forth, your gown swishing gently as you move. One hand is pressed to your forehead, the other to your stomach, like you're trying to physically hold yourself together. Your breathing is shallow, quick, and your eyes are wide with that familiar look of dread.

Minho's heart breaks a little as he watches you. You look so vulnerable, so unlike the confident woman you usually are. Yet, at the same time, there's something undeniably beautiful about you, even now. Even in the middle of your anxiety, you manage to carry a grace that makes his chest tighten for entirely different reasons. But now's not the time for that.

He steps into the doorway and knocks gently on the frame. "Hey, sweetheart," he says softly, using the nickname he's reserved just for you.

You look up, startled at first, but then you see it's Minho. A small, shaky breath leaves your lips. "Hey, Minho," you murmur, your voice quieter than usual.

Minho takes a few steps into the room, closing the door behind him, sealing off the rest of the world. "You doing alright?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.

"Yeah... I'm fine," you lie, but the strain in your voice gives you away. "I just... I don't want to go up there."

He nods, stepping closer to you, not crowding your space but just enough to make sure you know he's there. "I know," he says quietly.

He reaches out, gently placing his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers lightly brushing the soft skin there. His thumb traces over your pulse point, and he can feel how fast your heart is racing.

"It's okay. Jisung's up there right now, telling them you had to step out for an important phone call. No one's gonna make a big deal about it."

You blink at him, processing his words. "He did?"

"Yeah," Minho confirms, his voice soothing. "Chan's filming it too, so you'll still get to see the moment you're credited for the work. Don't worry about it. You don't need to put yourself through that shit."

You let out a small breath, your shoulders sagging with relief. The pressure in your chest eases slightly, though the tightness in your stomach remains. Minho's thumb continues its gentle rhythm on your neck, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.

Suddenly, Minho pulls you into a hug. His arms wrap around you, firm but gentle, and he presses his cheek against yours. The warmth of his body, the solidness of his embrace, catches you off guard for a second, but then you relax into him. He smells like something warm and comforting, and you breathe it in, your arms coming up to grip his shoulders as you rest your head against his.

He holds you tightly, his cheek still pressed against yours, and rocks you slightly, back and forth. It's the same thing he does for Jisung when he's panicking, the pressure of the hug helping to suppress the nervous system, calming everything down.

Minho doesn't say anything for a while, just keeps holding you, his cheek brushing yours, his thumb still moving gently on the back of your neck. His breathing is calm, steady, and before long, you find your own breathing starting to match his.

The scent of your mango and passionfruit body spray lingers in the air, and Minho can't help but smile a little to himself. He's always adored that scent on you. It's light and sweet, just like you, and being this close to you, holding you like this, it makes his heart pound in his chest. But he pushes those feelings aside. Right now, it's about you, not him.

"You're crashing with Jisung at the frat tonight, right?" Minho asks after a moment, his voice low and calm.

You nod against him. "Yeah, that was the plan."

Minho pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. "Let's get you back then. Fuck these fancy assholes. You earned your award, you don't need to torture yourself by staying here. Take those torture devices off your feet, too. They're not doing you any favours."

You glance down at your stilettos, your brows furrowing. "I should've worn wedges. I hate these fucking shoes."

Minho chuckles softly, shaking his head. He crouches down in front of you, his fingers already working on the small buckles of your stilettos. "Next time, wear the wedges. I know you prefer them."

You watch as he carefully unbuckles your shoes, slipping them off your feet one at a time. His movements are gentle, and something about the simple act of him helping you out of your heels brings another wave of calm. He stands back up, holding your shoes in one hand, giving you a small smirk. "Better?"

"Yeah," you murmur, wiggling your toes against the cool floor. "Better."

Minho slips his suit jacket off and hands it to you. "Here, put this on. It'll help with the cold when we head back."

You take the jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. It's too big, but the weight of it is comforting, and the scent of his cologne clings to the fabric, making you feel a little more secure.

Before you can say anything else, Minho pulls out his phone and quickly dials a number. He holds the phone up to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

"Yo, Felix," he says when the call connects. "I'm taking Y/N back to the frat. She's okay, but she needs to get out of here. You guys good?"

There's a muffled response on the other end of the line, and Minho nods. "Cool. Tell Jisung I found her, and we'll meet you all back at the house later." Another pause and Minho chuckles softly. "Yeah, I know you were planning on ditching after Hyunjin and Jeongin get their awards. We'll see you guys then."

He hangs up the phone and tucks it back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. "Alright, let's get the hell out of here."

Without waiting for you to argue, Minho crouches down, turning his back toward you. "Get on."

You blink in surprise. "What?"

"Get on," he repeats, glancing over his shoulder at you. "I'm giving you a piggyback. Your feet are gonna hurt like hell if you walk back barefoot."

You hesitate for a second, feeling a little self-conscious, but the look in Minho's eyes is so earnest, so full of quiet understanding, that you don't argue. You slip your arms around his neck, and he hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you up with ease. The weight of the world seems to fall away as you rest your chin on his shoulder, your arms wrapped loosely around him.

As he starts walking, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the cool night air hit your face as you exit the building. The campus is quiet at this time of night, only the sound of Minho's footsteps echoing softly on the pavement.

"Feel better?" he asks after a few moments, his voice soft.

"Yeah," you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder. "Thank you, Minho. I just... I couldn't handle it in there."

"I know," he replies gently. "And that's fine. There's no point in torturing yourself for an award you already earned. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."

You nod against him, feeling a little lighter with every step. The anxiety that had been clawing at your chest earlier is slowly dissipating, and you can focus on the steady rhythm of Minho's breathing, the warmth of his back against your chest. He carries you across campus with ease, his hands never faltering as he supports you.

"You know," Minho says after a while, his voice cutting through the quiet, "next time you feel like this, don't wait until it gets so bad, alright? Just grab me, or Jisung, or any of us. We've got you."

You smile slightly, your fingers curling a little tighter around his shoulders. "I'll try."

"You better," he says, a teasing note in his voice, though there's still that underlying sincerity that makes your heart warm. "Because if I have to chase you down in the middle of every fancy event, I'm gonna start charging you for these piggyback rides."

You laugh softly, the sound feeling good in your chest. "Deal. I'll make sure to pay you in pizza."

"Now we're talking."

The rest of the walk is quiet, comfortable. You can feel the weight of the night lifting off your shoulders as you approach the Alpha Phi house. By the time you reach the front door, you feel almost like yourself again, thanks to Minho and his steady presence.

When he finally sets you down in front of the house, he gives you a small smile. "See? Not so bad, right?"

You nod, smiling back at him, feeling more grateful than you can express. "Not so bad at all."

Minho grins at you as he unlocks the door to the Alpha Phi house, holding it open for you to step inside. The familiar warmth of the frat house surrounds you, a stark contrast to the cold, fancy banquet hall you'd just escaped from. The moment you cross the threshold, some of the leftover tension in your body melts away.

"Come on," Minho says, his voice low and relaxed, the same voice that had been grounding you since he found you spiralling. "Let's get you something to drink."

You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen, the soft glow of the house's lights making the space feel cosy, almost like home. The tension from the evening still clings to you a little, but Minho's presence beside you is like a steady anchor, keeping you from drifting back into panic.

When you enter the kitchen, Minho heads straight for the fridge, glancing over his shoulder at you. "What's your poison tonight? You look like you could use something strong."

You laugh softly, settling onto one of the barstools at the island, adjusting your floor-length gown so it drapes neatly around you. "Surprise me."

Minho pulls out a bottle of pineapple juice and a bottle of vodka from the fridge, giving you a wink before he grabs a couple of glasses from the cupboard. He makes quick work of mixing your drink, pouring a generous amount of vodka into the glass before topping it off with juice.

He slides your drink across the counter, the clink of the glass against the marble catching your attention. "Vodka pineapple for the lady," he says, raising his own glass. "And a double JD for me because, fuck, we've earned it."

You chuckle, taking the glass and sipping it. The sweetness of the pineapple juice mixed with the vodka goes down smoothly, and you feel some of the remaining tension in your chest loosen. Minho takes a sip of his own drink, watching you with a soft smile.

"You know," he says after a moment, leaning against the counter, "if it helps at all, you were definitely the most beautiful girl in attendance tonight."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks at his words, and you can't help but smile. "You're full of shit, Minho."

"I'm serious," he insists, his eyes twinkling with amusement but also sincerity. "The moment you walked into the hall in that dress, I'm pretty sure every guy there forgot why the fuck they were even attending. It was all eyes on you."

You shake your head, sipping your drink again to hide the fact that his words make you feel more flustered than you care to admit. "Well, I'm not so sure about that, but thanks."

Minho smirks, taking another sip of his drink before his gaze softens again. "It was also pretty fucking sweet how Jisung's pocket square and tie matched your dress."

You grin, finally letting out a genuine laugh at that. "Yeah, he insisted. Said best friends and co-journalists have to match, so everyone knows we're the shit."

Minho chuckles, shaking his head in that fond, almost exasperated way he always does when he talks about Jisung. "Of course he did."

You're about to take another sip of your drink when you suddenly remember something, and your smile falters. "Shit... I forgot my hairpin in the room."

Minho doesn't hesitate. "Don't worry about it. I'll text Chan, and he'll grab it for you before they leave."

You nod, a little relieved. "Thanks. I'd hate to lose it. It was my grandmother's."

Minho pulls out his phone, already typing a message to Chan. As he sends it, he leans against the counter again, taking another long sip of his drink. "So," he says, his voice casual, "to be completely honest, I was supposed to read your article, but I never got around to it. You know, being a veterinary science major kind of takes up all my fucking time."

He's lying, and you have no idea. Minho read that article the moment it was published, studied every word like it was the most important thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

He remembers the excitement in your voice when you first started talking about the project with Jisung, and he couldn't help but get curious. So, yeah, he read it, but he doesn't want to give that away. He wants you to light up and tell him about it yourself, to see the passion in your eyes as you explain your work.

Your face brightens at his interest, and you lean forward slightly, resting your elbow on the counter as you take another sip of your drink.

"Oh my God, you're missing out," you say, your voice already more animated. "Jisung and I have this theory that Jack the Ripper was actually a woman. A midwife, to be specific."

Minho raises an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "A midwife? That's a hell of a theory. Go on."

You nod, excited now, the exhaustion from the evening momentarily forgotten. "Right? Think about it. A midwife would have had access to all the knowledge needed to perform those surgical cuts on the victims. And during that time, no one would've questioned a woman walking around in blood-covered clothes. She could've been out at all hours, and people would've just assumed she was delivering a baby or something."

Minho swirls the drink in his glass, watching you intently as you explain. "That actually makes a lot of fucking sense. Victorian sexism would've worked in her favour."

"Exactly!" you exclaim, your eyes lighting up. "Back then, no one would've suspected a woman. They were too focused on looking for some deranged man, and the police reports were all written from a male perspective. They overlooked so many possibilities simply because they didn't think a woman could be capable of something so gruesome."

Minho takes another sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on you. "That's pretty fucking brilliant. What about the eyewitness reports, though? There was at least one person who claimed to see a man near one of the crime scenes, right?"

You nod, already ready to dive into that part of the discussion. "Yeah, but Jisung and I argued that just because someone was in the area doesn't mean they were guilty. There are always people wandering around in cities, especially in a place like Whitechapel during that time. Plus, eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable, especially in the dark, in a chaotic place like that."

Minho's lips curl into a small smile as he watches you. You're practically glowing now, completely immersed in the subject matter. This is exactly why he brought it up.

Seeing you like this, seeing you so passionate, it's what he loves most about you. Though he'd never admit that out loud. He sets his glass down and leans in a little closer.

"So, basically," he says, keeping his tone light and teasing, "you're saying Jack the Ripper might've just been an extremely intelligent, sadistic woman who knew how to avoid suspicion by playing into society's sexist expectations."

"Exactly!" you say again, nodding enthusiastically. "It's just a theory, of course, but it fits so many of the facts. And honestly, it makes a lot more sense than half the other theories out there."

Minho chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm impressed. That's some seriously clever shit. I'm pissed I didn't read the article now."

You smirk, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, you can still read it. It's not going anywhere."

"I will," Minho says, though he already knows it word for word. "You and Jisung killed it."

Your smile softens at the compliment, and you feel that warmth in your chest again. The same one that always seems to appear when Minho says things like this. He has a way of making you feel proud of your work, of reminding you that you're capable, even when you don't always believe it yourself.

You glance down at your glass, twirling it in your hands. "Thanks, Minho. It means a lot, really. It was... it was a tough project, but we're both really proud of how it turned out."

"As you should be," he says, his voice soft but firm. "You've always been fucking brilliant. That's why it pisses me off when you get in your head about shit."

You laugh softly, though there's a note of vulnerability in your voice. "Yeah, well, getting in my head is kind of my speciality."

Minho's expression softens, and for a moment, the teasing drops. He steps around the island, standing in front of you as he leans on the counter, his hands resting on the marble surface.

"Listen," he says, his voice lower now, more serious. "I know tonight was rough, but don't let it get to you. You've already proven yourself, not just with the award, but with everything you've done. And you've got people who have your back, alright?"

You blink, a little surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. Minho's always been good at saying the right thing, but this feels different. You meet his gaze, and there's something there, something you can't quite place. It's intense but not overwhelming, grounding in a way that makes your chest feel warm.

"I... yeah," you murmur, your voice softer. "Thanks, Minho. Really."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just holds your gaze, and then he breaks the moment with a small grin. "Now, how about we ditch this heavy shit and enjoy the rest of the night? We've got the whole house to ourselves for a bit."

You laugh, nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."

Minho taps the counter. "I'll top up your drink."

The door to the Alpha Phi house swings open, and the sound of footsteps fills the hallway as the rest of the guys file in after the awards ceremony. You hear Jisung before you see him, his voice cutting through the noise with its usual mixture of excitement and concern.

"Y/N!"

The moment he spots you sitting calmly at the counter, his eyes soften with relief, but his feet don't slow down. He rushes over, crossing the room in a few long strides, and immediately starts fussing over you like a mother hen.

"Shit, are you okay? You should've texted me or something. I would've ditched and come with you."

You can't help but smile at the sight of him. Jisung's still wearing the matching pocket square and tie that he insisted on wearing to match your champagne-coloured gown, though his suit jacket is a little rumpled now from the event. His hair sticks up in odd directions, no doubt from running his fingers through it a thousand times since you left the hall. He looks stressed, but the sight is comforting in its familiarity. You let him fuss, knowing that this is just what he does. What you do for each other.

"I'm fine, Ji," you assure him, though your voice is soft. "Promise."

Jisung's eyes narrow slightly, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders as he bends down to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on top of your head. "No, you're not," he mumbles, his voice quieter now, almost like he's talking to himself. "It felt wrong up there without you. I fucking hated it."

You reach up and pat his arms, which are still wrapped around you, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm sorry."

Jisung shakes his head, pressing his cheek to your hair. "No, I should've ditched with you. You know I hate leaving you alone when you're feeling like that. I shouldn't have left you with Minho, that stinky prick."

"Oi!" Minho's voice cuts in from across the kitchen, where he's leaning casually against the counter, drink in hand. He looks amused rather than offended, a teasing grin on his face. "Who do you think you're talking about, you cheeky fucker?"

You giggle at the exchange, and Jisung, ever the dramatic one, tightens his hold on you as if Minho's words have personally wounded him. "I'm talking about you, you smelly asshole," he says, sticking his tongue out at Minho while burying his face further into your hair, clearly unbothered by his friend's retort.

Minho rolls his eyes but says nothing else, instead taking another sip of his drink and shaking his head in mock disbelief. He watches the two of you with a small smile on his lips, though there's something else lingering in his eyes. Something softer, more careful. He doesn't push the banter further, choosing to stay quiet for now.

The door opens again, and Chan enters the kitchen, looking as polished as ever despite the long night. He's still got his suit jacket on, though it's clear he's ready to relax as he pulls out his phone, glancing around at the group.

"Oi, Y/N," he says, catching your attention. "You left something behind."

Chan reaches into his blazer pocket and pulls out your grandmother's sapphire-encrusted hairpin. Relief floods through you as you realize you'd completely forgotten about it being in a bubble of comfort with Minho. You reach out to take it, but before you can, Minho steps forward and gently takes it from Chan's hand.

"Here," Minho says softly, his voice lacking the usual teasing tone as he approaches you. "Let me."

Jisung watches the exchange with narrowed eyes, his arms still wrapped around you. He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the tension in the way his body stiffens slightly as Minho steps in closer.

Minho's touch is gentle as he slides the hairpin back into your hair, taking care to make sure it's secure. His fingers brush against your scalp, sending a soft shiver down your spine, but you ignore the feeling. When he's done, he gives you a small smile, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than usual.

"Perfect," Minho says softly, stepping back.

Before you can thank him, Jisung immediately shoos him away, his hands fluttering in the air as if to physically push Minho aside. "Alright, alright, back off, Romeo. I've got it from here."

Minho rolls his eyes again, but there's an amused smirk on his face as he steps back toward the counter, grabbing his drink. "You're so fucking possessive, Ji."

Jisung doesn't bother responding to that, instead wrapping his arms more securely around your shoulders as he glares at Minho's back. You don't miss the way Jisung's grip tightens slightly, though he's still careful not to make you uncomfortable. He's always been overprotective when it comes to you, but lately, it's been more intense. Especially when it comes to Minho.

"Chan, have we got anything to drink?" Hyunjin's voice cuts through the tension as he and Jeongin finally make their way into the kitchen, both of them looking ready to relax after the long night.

Chan nods, already pulling out glasses from the cupboard. "Yeah, yeah. What do you want? We've got plenty left from the last party."

As the group starts grabbing drinks and chatting amongst themselves, Minho silently pours you another drink, setting it in front of you with a small smile. You notice that he doesn't say anything, just gives you a look that says he's checking in without being too obvious about it.

Jisung, meanwhile, is still fussing over you, his arms around your shoulders like a security blanket. He doesn't let go, not even when you shift slightly in your seat to take a sip of your drink. He stays close, watching you with worried eyes as if he's waiting for you to show any sign of distress.

"Ji, I'm okay," you assure him again, though your voice is soft. "Really."

He huffs, not fully convinced. "Yeah, well, I'll be the judge of that."

Chan finishes pouring drinks for everyone and turns to the group with a grin, raising his glass. "Alright, before we get too fucked up, let's do a toast. To Jeongin and Hyunjin for their awards, and of course, to Y/N and Jisung for killing it with that award-winning article."

The group raises their glasses in agreement, and Minho tilts his glass toward you, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cheers to Y/N," he says softly, his eyes meeting yours.

You smile back at him, feeling the warmth of his gaze settle over you like a comforting blanket. It's moments like this, when he's not teasing or throwing sarcastic comments, that you feel a strange connection to him, something that you can't quite put your finger on. But before you can dwell on it, Jisung pulls you closer, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"To us," Jisung mutters, his voice soft in your ear. "But mostly to you."

You chuckle, clinking your glass against his. "To us."

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, drinks, and the comfortable warmth of being around friends.

Eventually, Jisung drags you up the stairs, leading you through the dimly lit hallway toward his room. After the long, chaotic night of the awards ceremony, and the endless rounds of small talk and congratulations, this is the sanctuary you need. Being around Jisung, your best friend, feels like hitting reset on a night that left your emotions tangled.

"Come on, let's chill," he says as he pushes open his door. His room is just as messy as always. Clothes scattered on the floor, textbooks stacked haphazardly on his desk, and the faint glow of those stars you stuck to his ceiling two months ago.

You flop onto his bed beside him, both of you lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling. The stars glow faintly in the dark, their soft light casting a surreal calm over the room.

"Remember when you made me put these fucking stars up?" Jisung says, his voice half-teasing, half-nostalgic. "I thought they were gonna look stupid, but..."

"They're kind of nice, right?" you finish for him, smirking. "See? You should listen to me more often."

Jisung snorts. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This is like, a one-time thing."

The comfortable silence that follows is filled with the distant hum of voices from downstairs, but up here, it's just the two of you. It's moments like this, with Jisung, that you appreciate the ease of your friendship. There's no need to fill every second with conversation. Just being here, next to each other, is enough.

You close your eyes for a second, letting the tension from the night melt away. But then, Jisung, ever the one to break a peaceful moment with something unexpected, speaks up again.

"You know," he starts, and you immediately know there's something coming. His tone is a little too casual. "I was thinking... maybe I should set you up with Felix or Chan."

Your eyes snap open, turning your head toward him, caught completely off guard. "What?"

He's lying there next to you, staring up at the ceiling like he didn't just drop a bombshell on you.

"I'm serious," he continues, his voice still annoyingly nonchalant. "They both think you're amazing and beautiful. Felix especially, he's been crushing on you for ages."

You blink at him, unsure whether to laugh or be genuinely surprised. "Uh... I don't know, Ji. I mean, maybe, but I'd have to think about it."

Jisung shrugs, still staring at the ceiling like this is no big deal. "No pressure. I just think you and Felix could be really good together. He's sweet, thoughtful. Plus, he thinks you're like, Aphrodite-level beautiful."

You snort. "Aphrodite? Really?"

"I'm dead fucking serious," Jisung says, turning his head to look at you. "I've heard him talk about you. The dude practically melts when you're around."

You can't help but smile a little at the thought. Felix has always been a close friend, but you never really thought about him in that way. He's easy to talk to, kind, and funny in that understated way of his.

"I don't know," you say, rolling onto your back again, staring at the stars. "Felix is really sweet, but has he ever actually said anything? Like, to me?"

Jisung shakes his head, waving the question away like it's a minor detail. "No, but come on, he's shy. Attraction is the start, right? You two have good chemistry, and he's definitely into you."

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You've always been close with Felix, and while the idea of a date with him doesn't sound bad, it feels unexpected. Like something you hadn't even considered before tonight.

"And Chan?" you ask, more to fill the silence than because you're seriously considering it.

Jisung shrugs again. "Chan's great too, but he's more focused on school and music right now. I think Felix is the better choice if you're looking for something real, you know?"

You can't help but laugh at how serious Jisung sounds. "Since when are you the expert on my love life?"

"Hey," he protests, sitting up on the bed and crossing his arms. "I'm your best friend. I know you better than anyone, and I know what's good for you."

You roll your eyes. "Right. Of course, you do."

"I'm just saying," Jisung continues, grinning now, "one date with Felix won't hurt. See where things go. If it works out, great. If not, no big deal."

You sigh, leaning back on your elbows. He's persistent, you'll give him that. But there's something about the way he's pushing this that makes you wonder if there's more to it than just wanting to set you up with Felix.

"Okay," you say finally, letting out a deep breath. "Fine. One date won't hurt."

Jisung beams at you, clearly pleased with himself. "Fuck yeah. I'll talk to him tomorrow and make sure everything's set for tomorrow night."

You raise an eyebrow, sitting up fully now. "Wait, tomorrow night? You're already planning this?"

"Yup," Jisung says, completely unbothered by your incredulity. "I'll talk to Felix in the morning. He's probably just waiting for an excuse to ask you out anyway."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Jisung just grins, leaning back on his hands. "You love me."

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. "Yeah, yeah."

The room falls into another comfortable silence, the distant sounds of the guys downstairs still faintly audible. You stare up at the stars again, wondering what tomorrow will bring. Felix is sweet, and he's always been a good friend. Maybe this date could be something more.

But before you can think too much about it, Jisung speaks up again.

"Felix is seriously into you, you know," he says, his voice softer now. "He hasn't said it outright, but I can tell. You're the kind of person he'd fall hard for."

You glance over at Jisung, wondering where this sudden emotional shift is coming from. "You're really sure about this, huh?"

Jisung nods, his expression more serious now. "Yeah. I just want you to be with someone who sees how fucking amazing you are. And Felix is one of the few guys I know who would treat you the way you deserve."

There's something about the way he says it that makes your chest tighten. Jisung has always been protective of you, sometimes to the point of being overbearing, but it comes from a place of genuine care. You know he just wants the best for you.

"Okay," you say quietly, more to reassure him than anything else. "If you're that sure, I'll give it a shot."

Jisung breaks into a grin again, clearly relieved. "Good. Trust me, you won't regret it."

What neither of you knows is that Minho is standing just outside the door, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides. He's heard every word of the conversation, and it's taking everything in him to not burst into the room right now.

Minho knows exactly what Jisung is doing. He's pushing Felix toward you because he doesn't trust Minho. And it pisses him off more than he can even articulate. Jisung thinks Minho is going to break your heart, that he's just some player who doesn't care. But Jisung has no idea how hard Minho's fallen for you, how much he's been holding back because he's been waiting for the right moment to tell you.

And now, hearing Jisung practically set you up with Felix? It's infuriating.

Minho grits his teeth, leaning against the wall as he listens to your conversation. He could go in there, stop this whole thing, and tell you how he really feels. But he knows Jisung won't make that easy. Jisung will fight him every step of the way because he doesn't think Minho is good enough for you.

But Jisung is wrong. Minho knows he is.

He'll prove it. One way or another.

The restaurant is buzzing with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery. You and Felix walk through the dimly lit space, a hostess guiding you to a table near the window. The atmosphere is intimate, maybe a little too intimate. The soft glow of the candles on the table reflects off the wine glasses, making the whole thing feel like the date Jisung had envisioned.

Except, it's not.

You tug at the edge of your black mid-thigh blazer dress, adjusting it slightly as you sit down, your thigh-high stiletto boots brushing against the leg of the chair. The sapphire-encrusted hairpin in your hair catches the light, just like the sapphire necklace resting against your collarbone.

Your grandmother's heirlooms feel like a protective layer tonight, a way to steady your nerves even though Felix has never been the type to make you feel anxious.

Felix slides into the seat across from you, and for a second, you take in his outfit: black slacks and a half-buttoned white shirt, his hands adorned with chunky silver rings. He looks good. And that, combined with the fact that you're both dressed like you're on the cover of a fashion magazine, only adds to the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay," Felix starts, his eyebrows raising as he takes a long look around the room. "This is fucking weird, right?"

You breathe out a laugh, feeling the tension melt slightly. "So fucking weird. What the fuck was Jisung thinking?"

Felix leans back, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know. He cornered me, said something about how I think you're beautiful, and then put two and two together and somehow got ten."

"He's been pushing this since last night. Something about how we'd be 'perfect' together. I guess he thought your opinion on my looks was enough for a love story."

Felix laughs, and the sound is warm and genuine. "Well, to be fair, I do think you're beautiful. I have eyes, don't I? But that doesn't mean I've been harbouring some secret crush on you."

"Thank God," you sigh, leaning back in your chair with relief. "So we can just treat this like a regular friends' dinner?"

Felix raises his glass of wine, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "To a friends' dinner."

You clink glasses, the soft ting sounding like an agreement between the two of you. Already, the night feels lighter. The weirdness of it all slowly dissipates as you both sip your wine and settle into familiar conversation.

"So," you say, gesturing around the restaurant, "if this is supposed to be a 'friends' dinner,' let's make the most of it. What's new with you? Still managing to ace all your classes while simultaneously being everyone's favourite stress baker?"

Felix grins, his eyes sparkling as he leans forward. "Of course. My cookies are keeping half the campus sane, honestly. The other half's still in denial."

You laugh, knowing all too well how Felix's baked goods have gained a sort of cult following around school. He's practically famous for them.

"Speaking of which," he continues, "I made those macadamia nut ones you like the other day. Jisung stole half of them before I could bring them over."

"Typical," you say, shaking your head. "I'll have to fight him for the rest. You know how much I love those."

The conversation flows naturally as you both dive into your usual back-and-forth. The wine loosens you up a bit, and soon enough, you're laughing loudly with Felix, completely relaxed. It feels like any other hangout, the weird pretence of a date"falling away.

The waiter comes by to check on you, refilling your wine glasses as you both finish the first bottle. Felix eyes the bottle in the waiter's hands, then glances at you, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

"You know," he says, his voice lowering as if he's letting you in on some grand secret. "We could get a free bottle of wine right now."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."

Felix grins like he's thought of the most brilliant plan. He slides one of the many rings off his fingers, stands up, and before you can even process what's happening, he gets down on one knee in front of you.

The people at nearby tables glance over, curious, but Felix ignores them, focusing entirely on you.

"Y/N," he says in an exaggeratedly serious voice, holding up the ring like it's some priceless artefact. "Will you make me the happiest guy in this restaurant and marry me?"

The wine has quelled any anxiety you might've felt earlier, so instead of feeling awkward, you decide to play along.

"Yes!" you exclaim dramatically, sticking out your hand for him to slide the ring onto your finger. "Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tables around you erupt into applause, people clapping and cheering as if they just witnessed the most romantic proposal of the century. Felix stands up, a smirk on his face, and the waiter, looking entirely caught up in the moment, hurries over to offer congratulations.

"Congrats!" the waiter says, looking genuinely excited. "Let me get you two a complimentary bottle of our finest wine to celebrate."

You barely hold back your laughter as the waiter rushes off. Felix slides back into his chair, grinning from ear to ear.

"I can't believe that worked," you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

Felix raises his glass again, this time with a proud look in his eyes. "To my fake fiancée and free wine."

You clink glasses again, still giggling as you drink to your ridiculous plan. Just when you think it couldn't get better, a couple from a nearby table leans over and says, "We've got your bill tonight. Congrats again!"

You and Felix exchange wide-eyed looks, barely managing to hold back more laughter. "Holy shit," Felix mutters under his breath. "We just hit the jackpot."

As you drink your newly acquired bottle of wine, the night only becomes more fun. The awkwardness that had hung over the evening at the start is long gone, replaced by pure enjoyment. You and Felix settle back into conversation as the restaurant continues to buzz around you.

"So," Felix says after a sip of wine, his gaze drifting toward the sapphire and diamond necklace around your neck. "Tell me about the heirlooms. That necklace and the pin. They've gotta be worth something, right?"

You nod, tracing the edge of your necklace absentmindedly. "Yeah, they are. My grandmother left them to me. She had a lot of money."

Felix leans forward, intrigued. "I had no idea. So, like, how much are we talking?"

You smile, not bothered by his curiosity. Felix has always been straightforward, and you appreciate that about him. "Well, she was a CEO. She raised me after my parents died, so I inherited pretty much everything. I've got shares in her company and in the other businesses she invested in."

Felix's eyes widen slightly. "So you're rich."

You shrug, sipping your wine. "I guess I am."

"Damn," Felix says, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Jisung never mentioned that part."

You laugh softly. "Yeah, I don't go around announcing it. I'm not really the 'rich heiress' type, you know?"

Felix nods, understanding. "Makes sense. Still, that's kind of badass. You've got all this wealth and power, and you're still just you."

You smile, feeling the sincerity behind his words. "Thanks, Lix."

The conversation drifts after that, touching on light topics as you both finish the second bottle of wine. The restaurant is still bustling, but it feels like you and Felix are in your own little world, enjoying the absurdity of the evening.

After a while, Felix leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "You know why Jisung set us up, right?"

You raise an eyebrow, your mind still pleasantly buzzed from the wine. "Because he's an idiot who can't read people at all?"

Felix snorts, shaking his head. "Besides that."

You tilt your head, genuinely curious. "No, enlighten me."

Felix grins, but there's something knowing in his eyes. "Well, I'll let you figure that out for yourself. I won't ruin the fun."

You roll your eyes, playfully smacking his arm. "You're such a dick."

Felix just laughs, finishing the last of his wine before setting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. "Hey, I'm just saying, Jisung had his reasons. You'll figure it out eventually."

You shake your head, still smiling as you lean back in your chair. The night has been a whirlwind of laughter, fake proposals, and more wine than you expected. Whatever Jisung's reasons were, you're just glad the evening turned into something fun instead of the awkward mess it could have been.

Felix pulls the car up to your apartment complex, the quiet hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence between the two of you. . It had turned into a night you didn't expect, but somehow, it felt exactly right.

Felix glances at you as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Well, that was fun."

You chuckle, shaking your head as you gather your bag and open the door. "So much fun. I don't know how we pulled that off."

Felix's grin is playful, his silver rings catching the dim light. "What can I say? We make a pretty good fake couple."

You laugh again, stepping out of the car and leaning back in through the open window. "Goodnight, Felix. Thanks for the... whatever that was."

Felix smirks. "It was an unforgettable friends' dinner. You know, one for the history books."

"Goodnight, Lix," you repeat, still grinning as you wave.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replies, watching you head toward the building.

As you walk to your apartment, you feel lighter than you have in days. Felix always has that effect on you. He makes everything seem easier, less complicated. The night could've been weird and awkward, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed: fun, simple, and completely free of stress. Jisung's matchmaking might've been misguided, but at least it had resulted in a memorable night with one of your closest friends.

You unlock your door and step inside, immediately kicking off your boots with a sigh of relief. Your apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the lively restaurant you just left. It feels good to be home, and you head straight to the kitchen, still feeling the buzz of the wine as you pour yourself another glass. The cool liquid slides down your throat, grounding you after such a surreal evening.

As you set the glass down on the counter, you reach up to take off your sapphire necklace, your fingers brushing against the cool metal. You remove the matching hairpin, carefully setting it down next to the necklace before turning your attention to the silver rings on your fingers. You begin slipping them off one by one, the rhythmic movement soothing after such an eventful night.

But then, there's a knock at your door.

You pause, glancing toward the front door with a furrowed brow. It's late, and you're not expecting anyone. Curiosity piqued, you set down the last of your rings and walk toward the door, glass of wine still in hand.

When you open it, you're greeted by a sight you weren't expecting: Minho, standing in the hallway, his expression unreadable, but there's something intense in his eyes.

"Minho?" you say, your voice a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face, then down to your lips. "Did you kiss him?"

You blink, confused. "What?"

Minho takes a step closer, his voice more insistent. "Did you kiss Felix?"

The question catches you off guard. You feel your heart skip a beat, and suddenly, you're not sure what to say. "No," you answer honestly, "I didn't kiss Felix."

Minho exhales sharply, like he's been holding his breath. "Okay... okay, good."

You raise an eyebrow, still confused by his sudden appearance and his line of questioning. "Minho, what the hell is this about? Why are you asking me about Felix?"

Minho meets your eyes, his gaze unwavering. "Because I still have a chance."

"A chance?" you repeat, feeling even more lost in this conversation. "What are you talking about?"

Minho runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, but not at you—more like at the situation. His voice softens when he speaks again, though there's still that intensity behind it. "I lied."

You tilt your head, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, you lied?"

Minho lets out a frustrated breath, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. "About your article. I said I didn't read it, remember? When we were in the kitchen last night, after the awards thing? I told you I didn't get around to reading it."

You nod slowly, still not sure where this is going. "Yeah...?"

"I lied," Minho says, meeting your gaze again. "I read it the second it was published. I've read it more than once, actually. Like an embarrassing amount of times. I said I hadn't read it because I saw how stressed you were about everything, and we were alone, and I knew if I asked you about it, you'd light up. And I wanted to be the one responsible for that."

You stare at him, the weight of his confession sinking in slowly. Minho, always so cocky and teasing, is suddenly standing in front of you, admitting that he'd lied just to see you happy. The realization hits you harder than you expected.

For a moment, you're at a loss for words. "Minho..."

He takes a step forward, closing the space between you, and his voice is quieter now. "Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him in. Minho walks into your apartment, the atmosphere between you shifting. He turns to face you, his expression serious, more vulnerable than you've ever seen him.

"I like you," he says, his voice steady. "Like, I really like you. And Jisung knows that. He hates it because he thinks I'm going to break your heart, but I'm not. I swear, I wouldn't do that."

You feel your pulse quicken at his words, your mind racing to catch up. "Minho, I..."

He holds up a hand, cutting you off gently. "You look so fucking beautiful right now, and it's really distracting me. So I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay."

Your breath catches in your throat, but the answer comes easily. "Yeah, that's okay."

Minho doesn't waste any more time. He steps forward, closing the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face. His lips meet yours in a kiss that's soft at first, tentative, as if he's waiting for some kind of permission. But then you kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, and the kiss deepens.

Minho's hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your bodies. The kiss is slow but intense, each movement deliberate, like he's savouring the moment. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his grip tightening slightly as his hands roam over your back.

You break the kiss for just a second, gasping for air, but Minho doesn't let you go far. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he speaks.

Minho's forehead rests gently against yours, and the air between you is thick with tension. Your heart is racing, every nerve on edge, and just when you think the silence will swallow the moment, you feel a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

It's ridiculous, the whole situation. The intensity of the kiss, the way Minho's hands feel so warm and grounding on your waist. You pull back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and give him a mischievous look.

"Oh, by the way," you say, trying to keep a straight face, "Felix and I got engaged."

Minho blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Huh?" He stares at you, confusion clear in his eyes, as if trying to piece together whether you're serious or not.

You can't help the laugh that escapes. "Yep," you nod, keeping up the act. "I'm set to marry Felix. So, congratulations, we're now having an affair."

Minho's brow furrows for a second, and then realization dawns on his face. A grin spreads across his lips. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? I'm the dirty little secret now?"

You smirk, feeling a little more daring. "Exactly. I'm cheating on my fiancé with you. How scandalous."

He hums, his thumb tracing slow circles on your hip. "I don't mind being the side guy. Adds some spice, don't you think?" He leans in again, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Just keep this between us, yeah? Don't want Felix to find out."

The playfulness between you two eases the tension, and you laugh softly, completely forgetting about everything else for a moment. You're about to respond when, out of nowhere, the door to your apartment swings open with a loud bang, making you both freeze.

"No! This is exactly what I was trying to prevent!"

You and Minho quickly step apart, your heart racing for a different reason now. Jisung looks at the two of you with wide, panicked eyes, like he's just walked into his worst nightmare. His hands fly up in the air as he groans dramatically, pacing a few steps.

"This is exactly why I set you up with Felix!" Jisung exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Minho. "I knew this would happen! And now he's got his STD-riddled claws into you!"

Minho's jaw drops in disbelief. "Okay, hold the fuck up," he says, hands raised in defence. "I have no STDs, and I'd really like to clear that up before we go any further with this conversation."

You take a slow, deep breath, pressing your lips together to hold back a laugh. Jisung, however, is far from amused. He looks like he's about to have a full-on breakdown as he turns to you, his face full of concern.

"Listen to me," he says, his voice urgent. "He's going to break your heart! Minho doesn't do relationships—he just flirts and messes around. He's like a... a... heartbreaker! A professional one!"

Minho rolls his eyes, stepping closer to Jisung, clearly fed up. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Jisung, I've liked her this entire time, and you know that!" His voice is sharp, filled with frustration. "You're the one who set her up with Felix, knowing damn well how I feel!"

Jisung glares right back, crossing his arms over his chest like a protective barrier. "I did it because I know you, Minho. You're all charming and smooth when you want something, but then you bail as soon as it gets serious. I'm not letting that happen to Y/N."

You shake your head, walking over to grab your glass of wine from the counter. The tension between Minho and Jisung has been building, and now it's finally spilling over. You sip your wine, deciding that the best course of action is to stay out of it and let them bicker it out.

Minho takes a deep breath, his frustration visible. "You think I'm going to hurt her? Jisung, you've got no idea how hard it's been trying to be patient with this shit. You set her up with Felix like some overprotective dad, and now you walk in here acting like you're the fucking saviour of the day."

Jisung's face turns redder, and he steps forward, eyes blazing. "You're my best friend, and so is Y/N! I've seen what you do to girls, and I'm not letting you do that to her."

Minho doesn't back down, stepping forward as well, the space between them shrinking fast. "You think I'm like that with her? Do you even know how long I've been waiting to make a move, only for you to play matchmaker with Felix?"

Jisung's mouth opens and closes like a fish, clearly lost for words.

You, on the other hand, take another slow sip of your wine. The back-and-forth between them is almost entertaining. They're like two kids fighting over a toy, except this time, you're the toy, which is both ridiculous and hilarious.

"Look," Minho says, his voice a little calmer now but still firm, "I'm not playing around with her. I've been serious about this, and the fact that you think I'm just going to fuck her over pisses me off."

Jisung throws his hands in the air again, clearly exasperated. "Of course I think that! You're Minho! You don't do relationships!"

Minho rubs a hand over his face, clearly trying to stay calm. "God, you're an idiot sometimes. This isn't just some hookup, okay?"

Jisung doesn't seem convinced. "You expect me to believe that? After everything?"

At this point, you've had enough. You walk over to Jisung, wine glass still in hand, and without a word, you pour the rest of the wine into his mouth. He tries to protest, but you give him no choice. He swallows the wine, sputtering slightly as he looks at you in surprise.

"Go sit in the living room," you say, pushing him toward the door with more force than you probably should. "We'll deal with you later."

Jisung stumbles into the living room, still flustered and clearly not done with the argument. But before he can say anything else, you shut the door and lock it, effectively trapping him inside.

Minho watches the whole thing unfold with an amused smile. "You know it's going to take him about an hour to realize he can unlock that from the inside, right?"

You shrug, turning back to face him with a grin. "That gives us about an hour of peace."

Minho's smirk widens as he steps forward, his hands sliding around your waist again. He pulls you close, and the heat between you reignites instantly. "There's a lot I can do in an hour," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and teasing.

Your heart skips a beat as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. "Oh yeah?" you whisper, your voice daring.

He kisses you again, this time with more urgency, and you melt into it, your body pressing against his. His hands slide down to your thighs, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off the ground. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he carries you through the apartment.

"Bedroom?" he asks between kisses, his voice low and filled with need.

"Second door," you manage to say, your voice breathless.

Minho kicks open the door to your bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights as he carries you inside. The door swings shut behind you with a satisfying thud, and with that, the world outside ceases to exist.

All that matters now is the heat between you, the feel of his hands on your skin, and the promise of what's to come in the next hour.

Minho kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, and in that moment, you know that an hour is more than enough time.

[alienpossession]

"So, what's the matter with the little faggot? Still shell-shocked?" asked the 50+ something man in bathrobe to the younger guy also in bathrobe, both staring at the shirtless and stunned 21 years old college junior

"Yeah, he refused to talk to me, daddy. But I managed to keep him in place as little part of me already ingrained in his brain, so he won't even move an inch from there unless I allowed him,"

"Well then, Ollie. Try to look at this arrangement from a more positive perspective. Rather than living miserably with your homophobic father that will never write you back on the will after finding out your fairy ass self jacking off to gay porn and also a horny casanova for an older brother that never bothered about your existence, we provided you with more affection, security and trust when we're in control of their bodies and make them behave according to what you desired them to be. After all, we can read your minds, so.....we know pretty well that this really turned you on despite how out-of-character this whole thing is. You can even join the whole fun if you want to," stated by the "father" rather bluntly

Ollie found himself stunned and exposed by the revelation, it caused him to stutter to explain and counter the barrage of statement coming out from his "father's" mouth. But even before he could manage to muster the answer, his "father" already remarked once more

"So, what is it gonna be? Accept our presence in your life from now on or do you want to make it hard for yourself trying to run away or even fight us? Sneak peek, you won't be alive if you choose the latter, that little fella inside of your brain now will get a couple more friends to ensure full subjugation of your psyche. You will just become yet another human vessel for our kind to thrive,"

[matan4il]

My grandparents were all Holocaust survivors. A large part of my family was murdered in that genocide. I chose to deal with the family trauma by becoming an educator on this subject. I give tours, lectures and workshops on the Holocaust, on antisemitism and on Jewish history.

Intellectually, I'm perfectly aware of how the massacre that Hamas perpetrated is NOT like what the Nazis did. More Jews were murdered over the course of just two days in Babi Yar (33,771 men, women and children), which is just one Nazi shooting pit out of almost two thousand, than during the entire Israeli-Arab conflict. Even after the carnage brought on by Hamas, this is still true. The Nazis were far more systematic (which eventually made them turn industrial) in carrying out the genocide of the Jews than Hamas has been. There's no comparison in terms of scale and industrialization.

And yet emotionally, I can't help but be hit by the similarities in terms of the immediate brutality of the murderers and the experiences of the Jewish victims. Because I am listening to the testimonies and some are so eerily similar to my research, I simply can't process how these are from recent days, not 80 years ago.

Jewish kids hiding from their would be murderers, scared to make a sound for fear of being discovered and killed.

Jewish families completely wiped out.

Jews asking themselves how did they survive and the person next to them did not.

Jewish people executed in droves, their bodies piled up.

Jews begging to be spared, to no avail.

Jewish women raped, most of them then killed.

Jewish babies executed in barbaric ways.

Jews being burned, some after being murdered, some while alive.

Jewish communities devastated. Take kibbutz Be'eri for example. It was founded before the State of Israel. Despite many terrorist attacks, it has continued to thrive in Israel's south. A small, close knit agricultural community. Over 100 people (at least) have been slaughtered there. Homes were destroyed. Everything the kibbutz's economy was based on was laid to waste, too. Be'eri has become synonymous with the worst of the carnage. IDK how they'll build their lives again after the war is over. IDK if they can. A community of almost 80 years, quite likely gone.

Foreign reporters who had been to kibbutz Kfar Azza all talked about the eerie silence and the stench of death rising from the bodies. Eerie silence is exactly how visitors to the sites of the shooting pits describe those places, while the allied soldiers who liberated the Nazi camps talked about the stench of death there.

Some of the reactions to this massacre also remind me of the Holocaust. Even though the Nazis, the murderers themselves, documented their extermination of Jews, there are those who deny the Holocaust happened, painting the Jews as liars. Similarly, even though Hamas documented themselves, and released the footage themselves, there are people going around denying the atrocities, painting the Jews as liars.

Then there's the justification of the mass murder of Jews by insinuating they brought it on themselves... Back in 1943, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, aware of the plight of Jews under the Nazis, told government officials in Allied-liberated North Africa that the number of local Jews in various professions “should be definitely limited” so as to “eliminate the specific and understandable complaints which the Germans bore towards the Jews in Germany.” Understandable complaints. Understandable complaints of Germans against Jews. Roosevelt, the liberal president, said that while Jews were being exterminated by the Germans. In the same manner, we're seeing people justifying the murder of Jews at the hands of Hamas, even though it's a known antisemitic terrorist organization which has repeatedly called for the murder of all Jews in the world. According to the Simon Wiesenthal Center, a reportedly Hamas affiliated Imam declared, "If the Zionist state were to move to the other end of the Mediterranean, our war would not be over, for the enemy is the Jew.

And while I stand by my statement that the scale is nothing alike, the carnage that took place in Israel IS the biggest massacre of Jews since the end of the Holocaust. Not even during Israel's Independence War and some of the massacres of Jews that happened during it (like the Kfar Etzion massacre) were this many Jews murdered during a single day.

Just like so many were silent back then as Jews were being both killed for being Jewish AND blamed for their own murder, many are silent now as well. Don't get me wrong, there are A LOT of amazing people who reached out to their Jewish friends, who showed they care, who took to the streets, who held vigils for the massacre's victims! Many heads of state also condemned this vicious attack. But I'm looking at Tumblr specifically, and it is FULL of posts justifying Hamas' slaughter of Jews. They're being reblogged everywhere, spread in every fandom. People who claim to stand for social justice feel absolutely no shame sharing such de-humanizing posts on their blogs. And what do we do? Are we calling them out? Do we make it clear that it is morally unacceptable to blame Jews for their own murder? Do we unfollow these bloggers, so that at least the dropping numbers send out the message that it is unacceptable to justify the massacre of innocent people?

TLDR:

This massacre is not like the Holocaust, but the cruel antisemitism that motivated it is the same. Let's not let antisemitism thrive here. Please do what you can (whatever that is) to stand for what's right.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[wardenparker]

For Valentine's Day

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit Word Count: 12.2k Warnings: Cursing, mentions of food and alcohol, taking care of a baby in the post-apocalypse, Ellie being a big sister, established relationship, mentions of breastfeeding, fingering, unprotected sex, praise, talk of birth control methods. Summary: You, Joel, Ellie, and Caroline arrive in Jackson to find the town getting ready to celebrate Valentine's Day. Notes: These darling dears were long overdo for a visit, so Happy Valentine's Day from the post-apocalypse! The rest of the 'For' series can be found on my Masterlist if you haven't read it yet!

Jackson is like another world. Joel is on edge, despite the friendly faces. Despite the relative safety of the town. He had been shocked to see Tommy here. Thriving, when Joel has lost so much to find him. To find that he isn’t needed. Although, he’s relieved to find a safe little spot for his baby girl and for you. Relieved that a comfortable house is available for you to rest in. It still baffles him to find an entire town getting ready for Valentine’s Day.

The trip was grueling, although all four of you made it in one piece. There were a hell of a lot of days that you weren’t sure if you would make it at all — but that wasn’t really an option. Not with Caroline sleeping on your chest in the homemade wrap carrier that Joel had helped you fashion out of ripped sheets you’d found and washed in an abandoned house along the way. You’ve been bonding with Ellie along the way, and she’s pretty good with Caroline, but your little girl is the reason you’ve been fighting so hard. Now that you’re in Jackson you don’t really know what’s going to happen with you and Joel. All you know is that you have four walls and a roof again, and Caroline is safe.

“Why are there so many hearts everywhere?” Ellie asks Joel, looking around as decorations are put up and the snow crunches under his new boots as he shoves his hands back in his pockets. “Holiday.” He grunts, sure that the kid is fucking with him. She seems to know all the old holidays anyway.

“Have you ever heard of Valentine’s Day?” Who knows what she learned in that FEDRA school back in Boston, or if anyone even thinks about Valentine’s Day anymore — outside of Jackson. You can't even believe that this town is decorating and getting ready for some mass celebration. It's surreal. And a little Hallmark. But in the post-apocalypse? It's amazing in a way you didn't even know you wanted.

“You mean that commercial holiday where men bought their ladies chocolate and flowers, took them on expensive dates?” Ellie asks with a smirk on her face. “You know, they said that soooooo many people proposed on Valentine’s Day. Or made babies.”

"That...is not wrong," you admit, ruffling her hair as you walk alongside the teen with little Caroline strapped to your front. "I guess the folks here are trying to keep as many older traditions alive as they can."

“So what are you going to do for Valentine’s Day?” Her voice takes on a sly, teasing tone and she cuts her eyes over to Joel, who’s shoulder seem inches higher than they just were. “Make a sibling for Caroline?”

"She already has a sibling." When the dubious teen wrinkles her nose at you in confusion, you knock her shoulder and offer her the warmest, softest smile. The real one — not one that teases or has expectations. "You, Ellie. You've been an amazing sister to her on this whole trip."

“Oh.” Her cheeks turn bright red and she ducks her head down slightly, but you don’t miss the proud look on her face. “She’s not so bad.” She huffs. “For a baby.”

"You're not so bad, either." A soft laugh escapes you, and you duck your own head to press a kiss to the top of Caroline's covered head. "For a teenager."

“The baby ready for a nap?” Joel asks. “It’s been a while.”

"We're almost home. I'll lay her down when we get in." The trip into town had been necessary, but Caroline had gotten fussy while Joel was talking to his brother and stepping outside had been practical. It's definitely naptime, no two ways about that. Especially not the way your little girl has been on the verge of tears for half the walk.

“Do you want me to hold her?” Joel asks. Knowing that it’s been a struggle keeping her calm and maybe you need a break.

"She might calm down a little for Daddy." Typically Caroline seems to find being held by Joel to be soothing or at least enough of a novelty to distract her from whatever was upsetting her, and you pause in your steps to carefully extract Caroline from her nest on your chest to hand over to Joel.

His hands are always gentle holding Caroline. As if he is scared to possibly hurt her or stain her with his blood-soaked hands. “Hey, baby girl.” He coos, smiling down at her tear-stained face. “Why so grumpy?”

His little girl — your little girl whimpers and moans a little but the tears stop flowing and you end up chuckling wryly under your breath. “I’m the one who brought her into the world and took care of her for months all alone and she’s still a Daddy’s girl. Go figure.” There’s no heat in it, no malice of any kind. After two months on the road together, you’re thrilled to see the pair of them still bonding so well.

"She's grumpy because she's yours." Ellie snorts, rolling her eyes and grinning when Joel cuts his eyes at her for a moment before looking back at Caroline. "See? Same grumpy looks."

“Like father, like daughter,” you tease, needling Joel’s arm with one finger.

He rolls his eyes and shuffles Caroline onto his shoulder, rubbing her back softly. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you out of the cold and into a clean diaper.” He murmurs. “Then we’ll see if you’ll get some sleep so you aren’t as grumpy as your old man.”

The house that was bestowed upon you is just a little further out from downtown and when the four of you get inside, Caroline’s trusty basket is right where you left it in the living room. “She’ll want to eat when she gets up, but I can manage that.” Managing to breastfeed here and there still works, but it’s good that there have been foods that Joel can feed her, too. “If you put her down, I can take care of her when she wakes up.”

“She had a rough night.” Joel argues softly. Caroline was a little under the weather, so she had been fussy. You had wanted to stay up with her, and now you look ready to drop. “Go take a nap and I’ll get her highness when she wakes up, okay?”

“Thank you, honey.” It’s an easy reflex to brush a kiss on Joel’s lips now, and you offer him a smile before pacing past him to fall into the bed that the two of you share upstairs.

Joel gently lays Caroline down, having a supply of cloth diapers and pins nearby. “Hey, baby girl. We’re gonna get you all clean and dry in just a minute.” He promises, finding it easier than he had imagined to fall back into a routine with taking care of a baby. It was decades ago, but he remembers soothing Sarah’s tears as he fought against diaper rash and colic with her.

“So.” Ellie smirks, leaning against the archway into the living room like the absolute picture of adolescence. “What’re you gonna do for her for Valentine’s Day?”

“Do for her?” Joel snorts, not looking up from his task since Caroline likes to pee on an unsuspecting victim when she’s being changed. “What do you mean?”

“The mother of your damn baby, Miller.” Ellie huffs, also as grumpy as her father figure. “There’s a whole holiday about love and romance and they celebrate it here.”

He frowns, realizing that you might have some kind of expectation given the atmosphere around town. “I’ve never been good at that kind of thing.” He admits.

“You can’t do nothing,” the teen argues, keeping her voice down so she won’t disturb the baby or be heard upstairs.

“Yeah.” He grunts, aware of that now. He has never really had to do Valentine’s Day. Unless you counted getting Sarah those boxed Valentine’s for her classes. “I’ll think of something.”

“What’s Tommy doing?” She might not know much about Joel’s brother, but she knows he has a wife and figures he must have a plan of some kind. “He might have an idea you can steal.”

“Haven’t asked.” Joel shrugs, carefully pinning the new diaper to Caroline with a slight frown.

“Probably should.” But Ellie shrugs. It’s no skin off her nose if the grumpiest old man in the world is bad at romance.

He pauses and looks up at Ellie suspiciously. “Has she said something to you?” He asks seriously.

“No.” If you had, she would have been kicking his ass about it a lot harder and a lot sooner. “But she deserves something nice. For like…putting up with us.”

You do put up with them. He snorts and lifts a brow. “Don’t you mean puts up with you?” He jokes. “She happens to like my grumpy ass just the way it is.”

“All the more reason to be nice.” As if he has proven her point completely, Ellie smirks. “Nice and romantic.”

“What do you know about romance, twerp?” He scoffs and shoots her a grin. “You’re too busy scaring off the girl that is interested in you.”

“S’not my fault your scary rubbed off on me,” she gripes in turn. “And you don’t know she likes me. Shut up.”

“You were scary before I met you, kid.” He chuckles, smirking slightly at the mortified expression on her face. “Maybe you’d find out if you didn’t run her off.” He suggests. “Talk to her.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t run off.” Ellie’s characteristic huff comes with a frown and a whole lot of blustering now that she’s the one being called out and she pushes away from the doorframe with a near-stamp of her feet. “Whatever, old man. I was trying to help you.”

“Yeah, you are.” He acknowledges with a grin. “Imma put her down and then run talk to Tommy. You good with listening out for her? She should sleep the entire time.”

“Fine.” Anything to end the torture, though Ellie does smirk that she might have given Joel a good kick in the ass.

He snorts to himself as he lifts a now sleepy Caroline to his shoulder. Patting her but as he moves over to her downstairs bassinet. It’s was odd, you had carried Caroline in a worn out sling and then luckily found a new one on the way, but supplies and space for them had been so limited, now his daughter has a downstairs sleeping area and one right in the room you share with Joel

******

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Despite the cold, Tommy is out on his porch when he spots Joel walking up the road, and he leans over the banister with a dash of curiosity in his shit-eating grin. Any time his big brother comes to him for just about anything, he still considers it a win. “Back again so soon?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel shoots Tommy a half-hearted glare and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You got a minute?”

“Sure.” Tommy’s head bobs in agreement. “You wanna come in?”

“Maria home?” Joel asks, not quite sure if it’s a good idea. Tommy’s wife doesn’t seem to be his biggest fan and he can only assume it’s because his brother told his wife some of the things that Joel has done to protect the people he cares about over the years.

“Nah.” The younger Miller brother shakes his head and stands on creaky bones to open the door for them. “She’s got meetings today. I don’t pretend to know everything she has to deal with, but she comes home to a warm house and dinner on the table, so I guess I’m doing something right.”

“Well, ain’t you a good little house husband?” Joel snorts, busting his brother’s balls a little. The man had been a pain in his ass hellraiser when he was younger. Before outbreak. It’s nice to see him get to enjoy domesticity once again.

“Hell yes I am.” But Tommy snorts too, knowing it’s a far cry from the kid he used to be. As it turns out, the end of the world and the love of a good woman can change a man. “You think I’m not gonna do everything I can to keep that wife of mine? ‘Course I am.”

Tommy was always the optimist, something that Joel had lost after Sarah’s mother had left. He had been too busy trying to raise her right, and then he lost her. Joel frowns for a second and then nods. “And how are you doing that with this Valentine’s thing?”

“Not as easily as I would have before,” Tommy admits, but that’s also a pretty obvious thing to say. Nothing is as easy as it was before. “That cache of movies they’ve got has plenty to pick from and they’re screening…” He thinks for a second, hard, and shrugs. “Some damn 90s chick flick. I dunno, but she’s excited. And since she’s been eating carrots like a bunny with this pregnancy, I’m makin’ her a whole meal centered around it for dinner.”

“Carrots.” He snorts and smirks at his younger brother. “Your kid is gonna come out and say “what’s up doc?”.” He sniggers, imitating the cartoon character from long ago.

“At this point I wouldn’t be surprised.” It makes Tommy laugh though, and he puts a glass of water in front of Joel before pouring one for himself. “Watcha need?” He asks, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“It’s about….” He looks down at the water and says your name. “The kid says I need to do something for her. For putting up with my shit.”

“Smart kid.” But still, Tommy frowns. “Are you…not together? Is that it? Or am I not gettin’ something here?”

“We were together one time.” Joel murmurs. “And we had a kid.” He shakes his head and looks back down at his hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the baby. Caroline is sweet and her momma-“ he sighs. “She’s too good for me really, but she wants to be with me.”

“Just one time?” An impressed and slightly disbelieving whistle escapes Tommy’s lips. “Do you…wanna tell me what happened? Or is that topic off limits?”

“You remember that supply run I made right after you left to go out west?” Even though he had been with the Fireflies, Joel had told Tommy his plans, hoping he would come along.

“Sure. You left the day after I did.” That had been the plan at the time, anyway. He can’t be sure that’s when Joel actually left.

“Came across her in an abandoned house.” He smirks slightly as remembers your surprise and his own reaction to your beauty. “Bunked down together for the night.”

“Ah.” The younger of the two men chuckles in acknowledgement. He can very easily see Joel trading sex the way he traded favors and sold drugs. “And she found you again? Afterward?” He guesses.

“She told me where she was from.” Joel explains. “After we got in trouble in the city and lost Bill’s truck, we headed there. Hoping that we could somehow find someone with a car.”

“And maybe hoping to run into her?” He doesn’t believe it happened by accident. That Joel hadn’t been thinking about you when he decided to go to wherever you were from. He knows his brother better than that.

“She had told me she was going west sometime.” He gives a half shrug, but that is why he had chosen to go so far out of his way.

"Cut the bullshit, Joel," Tommy smirks, knowing that his brother's ability to evade admitting to emotion is legendary. He's been like this for most of his life. Since his wife left. And that is what it is. But Tommy knows Joel well enough to know that he doesn't go out of the way for just anyone. "If you don't want to be with her that's one thing, but you protected her and that baby all the way from the east coast."

He could argue that he has an obligation to you because of the baby. Caroline is his daughter, but it’s just delaying the inevitable admittance of wanting to be with you. “So what the fuck do I do for her, Casanova?” He huffs, scowling at his brother and wondering why the fuck he came to him for advice. “She’s too fucking good for me and I know it. All the women in my life have been.”

“Well you’re taking her to the movie, right?” It’s not exactly a common thing to be able to do, and is therefore a pretty damn big special occasion in the world you all live in now. “Even if you didn’t do anything else, you gotta do that.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Joel likes movies, used to love them back in the days before the world burned. “She likes books, maybe I can try to find her favorite?”

“We made a library in town of all the books that were left in everybody’s houses,” Tommy tells him with a nod. “Same way we got all the movies we screen. If you’ve got a bookworm, I think a library card counts as romantic.”

“That night…” Joel looks down at his hands and smiles slightly at the memory. “She was reading a book to me that was sexy.” He huffs out a chuckle. “Guess she seduced me with her reading abilities.”

"Fell for brains, huh?" That makes his brother chuckle, and Tommy leans back in his seat with a grin. "Maybe you can talk to Jana — the woman who runs the library — and arrange a little date there? Rekindle a little romance?" He's trying to help as best he can, knowing that old chestnuts like taking you out for a fancy dinner or taking a little weekend trip away can't happen with the world the way it is. He could be patronizing and tell Joel to hurry up and make an honest woman of you, but that is also something that's changed in this world. Not everyone feels the need for the formality of a marriage anymore.

“That would be good.” Joel doesn’t sound completely convinced. “Although I’m sure jewelry would be better. Even now.”

With one eyebrow raised, Tommy cocks his head at his brother. “What kind of jewelry were you thinkin?”

“Somethin’ to celebrate Caroline. And give her something pretty.” Joel hadn’t quite thought it through but most women loved the thought of jewelry.

“Earrings? Necklace?” The way Tommy wants to pry is nearly a physical necessity at this point. “Whatever’s in the house you guys have moved into, wrap it up. Consider it our gift to you guys for being part of the town.”

“Was thinking about a necklace but I don’t know.” He frowns slightly. “Maybe a ring?” He looks up at his brother. “You didn’t remove the valuables from the house?”

“What’s jewelry worth in the apocalypse?” It’s something that only had to be worried about in the cities, it seems like. In the places where FEDRA still reigned. In the places where appearances still mattered. “We took the tools, the resources, split them all up evenly or kept them in reserve, depending on what they were. “Whatever water, food, warm clothing, shit like that? That’s what matters. Not jewelry.”

“True.” Joel shakes his head. “See why I’m not good at shit like this?” He huffs. “Too bad I can’t build her a stroller for the baby.”

“I mean I don’t think you would find very good suspension, but we can get you the stuff to build an old fashioned one.” Tommy snaps his fingers in quick succession, thinking hard. “What the fuck were they called? The one from black and white photos? Prambutrators?”

“Prams.” Why Joel knows that, he doesn’t have a clue. But like he was watching an old episode of Jeopardy, the answer falls from his lips easily.

“Strollers, but beds.” There’s a longer word for it, Tommy’s sure of that, but he shrugs it off. “You wanna do that for her? We can make it happen.”

“Might be a good idea.” Joel hums thoughtfully. “Especially since you’re about to have your own kid. “Need some way of transporting them when your back is aching.”

"It'll be a family heirloom," Tommy huffs, amusement makes his smile spread all over again.

Joel snorts and he taps the table. “I want to build it.” He decides. “I can find out about the library card and look for something pretty too. She did give birth to my daughter and took care of her alone until I saw her again.”

"So it'll be a big holiday." That seems to please the younger Miller, and he chuckles quietly. "She's a hell of a woman. And deserves it, if for nothing else than putting up with your ass."

Joel rolls his eyes and sighs softly. “I don’t know how much she puts up with me because of the kid and how much is because she’s insane for wanting me.”

"Oh, she's certifiable." Tommy can't help but laugh at that. "But it's obvious she loves you. For whatever that's worth. You can see it on her face."

He doesn’t see it, but he might still be in that stage of disbelief. “I better get back.” He pushes the chair back and stands with a groan. “Told her I’d get Caroline when she woke up. She had a long night with her last night so she’s taking a nap too.”

"Ellie's with the baby now?" It's obvious to everyone else in the world that Joel has taken in the teenager with the same ferocity that he's taken to his infant. It's who he is.

“Yeah.” He can’t help the soft smirk on his face as he thinks about the two of his three girls. “She’s taken on the role of big sister pretty well.”

"Sometimes you gotta get thrown in the deep end to figure out how to swim." Standing with his brother, Tommy claps Joel on the shoulder. "Go get back to 'em. We'll get your building supplies tomorrow."

“Thanks.” Joel’s shoulders relax slightly and he shakes his head. “Still can’t believe we’re gonna have kids that grow up together.”

“Musta done something right to deserve it,” Tommy laughs, the edge of disbelief in his voice obvious. “Can’t figure out what the fuck it was, but it must’ve been good.”

“I— I never actually congratulated you.” Joel murmurs after a moment. He had been a little raw when he realized Tommy had been living a charmed life here and he had lost so much, Tess, Bill and Frank, another piece of his soul, on his way to rescue him. Then Tommy’s disbelief about Caroline and his own budding joy about fatherhood had brought up the loss of Sarah. It hadn’t been pretty, but he had regretted his harshness. He reaches out a hand, hard from the man he had become and the work he had done, to shake Tommy’s. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks.” The handshake, warm and firm and full of things the Miller brothers aren’t very good at saying out loud, makes Tommy falter and clear his throat a little to push away the emotion. “I, uh…I’m doing my best. And that’s all I can do. Because Maria and the baby deserve the world, but the world is pretty fucked up these days.”

“It’s always been fucked up.” Joel corrects. “Now it’s just more obvious.” He lets go of the hand and shuffles slightly.

“Fair enough, I guess.” Tommy chuckles, but he rubs his hand on the back of his neck. “Did you…need anything else?”

Joel shuffles again and feels like a teenager. “Do any - uh, is there birth control available?” He asks, not wanting to get you pregnant again. At least not now. Although that afterthought shocks him.

A sort of lopsided smirk forms on Tommy’s face, and he chuckles — the sentiment clear as day. “The ladies have developed some interesting but not full proof methods. It’s sort of frontier-style out here. In that regard and a lot of others.”

“Yeah.” Joel nods and sighs. “I’m fucking fifty-six years old, Tommy.” He huffs. “Don’t need to be knockin’ her up every time I’m feelin’ frisky.”

“For her sake way more than yours.” Tommy laughs again. “I’d go see the Doc,” he advises. “She was a general practitioner before the world went to shit, so now she’s our town doc.”

Joel nods, knowing that it needs to be done. Tess couldn’t have anymore kids, so it had never been a problem. You’ve only had sex a few times since being in Jackson, and every time, Joel had pulled out the second you had cum so he could jerk off.

“Sounds like you’re planning a damn good Valentine’s Day,” Tommy teases.

He snorts, shrugging slightly and the slight grin on his face is purely male. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this relaxed. And she’s a damn beautiful woman, who loves me.” He admits, proud of that fact.

“If you’re relaxed with a baby around, that’s proof she’s not your first.” Shaking his head once more, Tommy slaps Joel hard on the shoulder. “Go home to ‘em. I’ll see you tomorrow with the stuff you’ll need to build.”

“Thanks.” He sends Tommy a grateful look and quickly slips out the door. Eager to get back to you, Caroline and Ellie. Even though Jackson is safe, he feels better when you are close.

******

Ellie is sitting beside Caroline’s bassinet in the living room when Joel gets home. Her old, weathered joke book is in her hands and she glances up when the door opens to let Miller inside. “Shhh,” she puts one finger to her lips performatively and whispers. “She’s so fuckin cute when she sleeps.”

“Yes she is.” Joel can agree as he quietly walks over to the bassinet. “She slept the entire time?” He asks the other girl, proud of how easily she’s bonded with her. Despite not like diaper changes, Ellie loves Caroline and would often ask to hold her when you had stopped for the night.

"She fussed a little," Ellie admits, but she holds up her book. "I giggled her off to sleep."

“More like bored her to sleep.” Joel snorts. “You certain she’s still breathing?” He jokes, even though he can see that she is, it’s simply for the pleasure of watching Ellie scowl at him.

"Caroline thinks I'm funny." The teenager defends, though she knows making a baby laugh isn't too hard in the first place. "Even if you don't share our refined sense of humor."

“Yeah.” He huffs and rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to smirk. “Keep telling yourself that, cupcake.”

“Shouldn’t be surprised.” Though it comes with a huff, Ellie keeps her voice down. Caroline is sleeping, after all. “We’re cuter than you, too.”

He shoots Ellie a look that is half amused. “That’s not hard to do.” He admits. “But I’m smarter…..and meaner.”

“You wouldn’t be mean to us.” Ellie bats her eyelashes dramatically, knowing fully fucking well that Joel can be mean. That he has been mean. But never to the baby.

“No, I wouldn’t.” He might have been at one point to the older girl, but now he would die protecting her. “Did you know there’s a library in town?”

“There is?!” Her voice jumps up at that and she immediately ducks as though her volume were some kind of tangible weapon that she needs to get away from the baby immediately. “There is?” She hisses quietly instead.

“Yeah.” Joel chuckles at the way Ellie’s eyes light up. You aren’t the only one with an affinity for reading. “Planning on going over tomorrow to get a card. Wanna come?”

“Hell yes.” The teenager nods with enthusiasm. “Is it a big library?” He must have heard about it from Tommy, which means it’s worth bragging about. Tommy Miller loves to brag about Jackson.

“It’s filling up a store, so it has to be big.” Tommy had told him where to go. “They compiled all the books in town and any they brought in.”

"You're on, old man." Ellie hops up off the sofa, apparently having thought of something either extremely important or just imminently elsewhere that she needs to be. "I hope you're ready to carry books back, cause I'm getting out as many as they'll let me."

“Bring a bag, brat.” He reaches out to swipe her head with his hand, to mess up her ponytail, but she ducks. “Where are you going?” It’s a safety question, even though the town is safe. He still wants to know.

"Upstairs." She assures him. "I'm not leaving after dark."

“Good.” Joel lifts a brow. “Keep it that way. Even though it’s safe here, shit can happen.”

"I know." She agreed to follow Joel's rules, and she meant it. Even if he can be a complete nag sometimes, she knows by now that he is the one person to trust over anybody else in her life. Joel said not to go out after dark, so she doesn't. End of story.

“Thank you.” Joel relaxes slightly and rolls his shoulders back after Ellie agrees to stay close. “Don’t say anything to her about the library card.” He cautions her. “It’s gonna be a surprise.” He hopes you haven't heard about the library yet, but if you have, you haven't had time to get a card or you would have been raving about it.

“Got it.” The teen smirks and heads for the stairs.

Joel rolls his eyes again and looks down at Caroline softly before taking off his jacket and boots. He's comfortable here, and its a surprise to find out how quickly he could readjust back to fatherhood. He takes the soiled diaper from earlier and brings it over to the bucket that you keep them soaking in. Deciding that he will wash them so they can hang dry in the kitchen overnight. Having a baby in a post apocalyptic world is kind of like having one in frontier times, in his opinion. A lot more work, and those conveniences he had taken for granted with Sarah are a thing of the past.

******

It’s been a hell of a long time since you could feel safe enough to nap, but Jackson is unique in that it actually feels safe. When you wake up it’s after dark and the house is quiet — which really just means that Caroline is quiet. Joel and Ellie habitually keep their voices lower and their steps lighter because the instinct of having to stay hidden is so ingrained. The fact that there’s no sound from downstairs now is a good thing. Hopefully Caroline has managed to nap and Joel can do…whatever Joel is doing.

Joel stirs the pot on the stove, throwing together a stew to eat. The leftover vegetables from last year’s growing season were all canned, but he was grateful for them nonetheless. When he hears you on the stairs, he pokes his head out of the kitchen. “Got some tea ready.” He calls out softly.

"You're perfect," you hum with a grateful sigh, stretching languidly on the last step before you hit the bottom floor. The air of domesticity here is deep, in a way that could almost make you forget what the world outside is like. At least for a little while.

“You just love that I’ve learned how to make your tea.” He snorts and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead when you drift by him on the way to the counter for the cup he has set out.

"I'm appreciative." For so, so many things that Joel does. Not being the only person in charge of Caroline's survival and happiness as well as your own has lifted an enormous burden from your shoulders and you can only hope that you have helped him in even a fraction of the same way. "Thank you, honey."

“Of course.” He nods and turns back to the stew. “Figured I’d make some dinner, we still have half a loaf of that oat bread.” He shakes his head. “Amazing how we are actually eating bread….Considering.”

“We’re all eating like hippies,” you joke, leaning in to Joel’s side as he stands at the stove. It’s a comfort just to be close to him, and you’re much closer now than you were even weeks ago. “Anything but wheat flour.”

“That’s true.” He chuckles and reaches around you to snag your waist.

“Thank you for letting me nap.” A perfect rest is one you get to take together, but those were few and far between on the road. Now that you’re in Jackson, being able to sleep next to him every single night is an absolute luxury.

“You’re welcome.” Joel leans in and brushes his nose against your cheek. “You were up with her last night, you deserved to rest.” He reminds you. “I got the diapers washed. They are hanging up on the back porch.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” He’s been such a huge help, and even helped you get a better rhythm even in your one-on-one time with Caroline.

“Are you asking or lamenting?” He jokes and pats you on the butt gently. “So I talked to Tommy.” He murmurs. “There’s a doctor in town that we should go see.”

“Are you not feeling well?” Concern is written on your face instantly, eyebrows drawing up in worry.

“No, nothing like that.” He instantly replies, trying to ease your fears. “They have some….methods of birth control.” He feels his own cheeks heating up because of bringing this up. “If you— I mean, if we’re— you know— uh—”

"Oh." He's blushing, and that's just about the most adorable thing you've ever seen. "Then yes. We should definitely go see that doctor."

“I just— I don’t want you to— not if—” he’s never been great with words and he just shrugs after a moment. “I don’t think you should be havin’ another baby right now.” He murmurs. “I know back before everything, they told my….ex, that she should wait at least three years before another baby and fuck- by then I’ll be sixty fuckin’ years old.”

"Honey..." Turning into Joel's side completely, you tip your head back to offer him a smile and put your other arm around his waist to hold him close. "We'll do our best to keep up with effective birth control. We'll be as safe as we can be. Sometimes...sometimes things just happen. We know that. We have the result of that, sleeping in the other room. Family planning doesn't exactly work the way it used to."

“No, it doesn’t.” He leans in and presses his lips to yours. “But I want you to be healthy, not worn out because my pullout game isn’t the best.”

"If it happens again, we'll love them just as much as we love Caroline." You are absolutely certain of that, without hesitation. "And if it doesn't? She's already got one fantastic big sister around to help take care of her, and another big sister that she can hear stories about whenever Daddy is willing to tell them."

“I—” he bites his lip and shakes his head. “It’s been-“ air whooshes out of his lungs. “A long time since I’ve been called that.” Caroline being alive and healthy makes the last time he heard that particular phrase only bittersweet, the ache in his heart still there, but it doesn’t bleed this time. “I still can’t believe I have her some days.”

"We're lucky to have you, Joel." That is something you believe with all of your heart, even on the bad days and the hard days and the days when it all feels like too much. "All three of us."

“Everything changed.” Joel acknowledges. “But I’m glad I could keep the three of you safe. Get you here.” He tilts his head. “Do you know how far we are from your family land?”

"The last I heard from anybody, they were actually on the outskirts of Jackson." Having been too afraid to ask, you've kept it to yourself that you might actually have a family home out here with sentimental things that once belonged to your cousins. "I have the address, but...I assume that since the street isn't part of new Jackson, it must be either wrecked or overgrown."

“Do you want me to ask around?” He asks quietly, squeezing your hip gently. “See if I can get out there?”

"Honestly, if it's still around? I would want to go too. But I don't want to risk taking Caroline out to somewhere dangerous again." You shake your head at that idea, not liking it at all. "Not when she's finally safe again."

“No.” Joel is immediately shaking his head. “Our daughter stays behind the walls.” He insists, voice flat and final. Even though you don’t want to take her out, Joel wouldn’t allow it.

“Never a sentence that I thought I would find comforting, but here we are.” The two of you stand silently for a long moment before you sigh. “I know there’s probably nothing left of them,” you repeat, hating how final that is after everything. “But I’d rather know for sure. There might be a memory or two left in the house.”

“Then we will go.” Joel hates that you haven't found any of your people yet, although they may just not be around much. It’s a vain hope, but he has it for you.

“And we’ll go see the doctor.” That’s a more pressing trip, if you’re honest with yourself. Any birth control at all would be useful, even if it’s only by a little.

“I don’t have to be inside you.” Joel murmurs softly, knowing that as much as he loves your cunt around you, your health is more important.

“There are plenty of ways to be intimate.” With one hand on his chest, you rub small, soothing circles there for a second and kiss his jaw before his lips. “But we’re still going to go see that doctor. I like having sex with you too much to just give it up cold turkey.”

He huffs out a small laugh and he smirks at you. “Got addicted, huh? Even when you sometimes have to ride?”

“Don’t be so smug.” An attempt to frown or even look somewhat stern fails you, though, and you end up throwing a matching smirk back at him. “I…like that we don’t go our separate ways the next morning.”

“You and Caroline, Ellie…” he pulls you closer. “You’re all that matters to me. Keeping you safe.”

Cup of tea and simmer stew pot long forgotten, you turn in Joel’s arms to face him fully and put your arms around his neck. “We love you too, handsome. All of us. In very different ways.”

He grumbles slightly but he doesn’t argue. Knowing that it’s useless to argue with you. “Yeah, yeah.”

You hum, grinning that he doesn’t protest it anymore, and kiss the tip of his nose. “You’re cute when you blush.”

He rolls his eyes and his hands slide down to your ass. “Yeah? You’re cute when you’re naked underneath me and chanting my name over and over again.”

“Joel…” A knot in your belly forms instantly, making you squeeze your thighs together in turn.

He grins at you and winks. “Good thing you took that nap, huh?” He teases softly. “Now you need to eat a good meal to make sure you won’t pass out on me from hunger.”

“This,” you huff, laughing at the way the two of you have just clicked back together so easily over the last few months. “This is why we need that doctor. We’re too horny for our own good.”

“Kind of hard to fuck on the road.” He reminds you with a laugh of his own. “Now we have a bed, a door that locks.”

“And a real mattress and box spring for that old man back of yours.” Not that you don’t appreciate it too, of course. But of the two of you, Joel definitely has more aches and pains.

“Damn right. And the bed is comfortable.” He snorts, remembering that shitty, worn out mattress he had in Boston. “Did I mention that Ellie isn’t sleeping three feet from us?”

“And we don’t have to worry about Caroline rolling or crawling away, or any of a million other things.” The fingers of one of your hands thread into his hair and you hum as you press yourself against him right there in the kitchen. “Of course, there’s also the kitchen counter…”

The way his cock twitches in his pants is a good indication that he had been thinking along those lines too. “Kid’s upstairs, reading.” He grunts, pressing his lips under your ear just like he’s discovered makes you shiver. “Baby’s asleep. If we make it quick, we can do it.”

“I should just stop wearing pants around you,” you tease, already shifting both of you backward so that you’re the one pressed up against the counter. “So we can be as fast as we want.”

“We can always find you some skirts.” He hums, sliding his hands down to your jeans and around the front to unbutton them. “When you’re inside Jackson. I wouldn’t want you to wear them outside the walls.” He says seriously, frowning slightly at what could possibly happen. Clickers or humans.

The soft chuckle that escapes you is a little rougher than usual just because he's shoving your jeans down your hips, but you still shrug your shoulders. "We're horny, not stupid. Skirts are only for when it's safe."

Joel has become a little feral now that your relationship has progressed back to physical. There’s something about you being the mother of his child that seriously gets Joel going. He had never had that since his ex had disappeared out of his and Sarah’s life so early, but he was not upset with the discovery. Your body was softer, marked by motherhood and he found it incredibly sexy. “Then you need to see the doctor.” He growls. “Because I might just bend you over a table every time Caroline naps.”

He barely has your jeans pulled off in time for you to hop up on the counter, legs open for him to fill the space between even as you start to work open the belt he wears day in and day out. Frenzied kisses take up the space where there could be more words, but oxygen is precious when you're doing your damnedest to drown in each other while your baby girl sleeps.

Most intimate moments were rushed, quiet and out in the open. Using his fingers on you to give you pleasure while the girls slept. Because of that, he knows exactly how to touch you to make sure you are wet.

"Joel—" You have to bite back a whine the second his fingers find you, already wet and aching just from talking about sex and not even from him touching you. Hell, kissing him is still enough to make your cunt bottom out and you hope that never changes.

“That’s it, baby.” Joel growls against your neck softly. “Want that pretty pussy nice and wet. You want to cum before I fuck you? Or do you want to cum on my cock?” He swirls his fingers around your clit and then presses them into you to curl up and strike against that spongy spot deep inside near your cervix.

You could protest that there isn’t time for two, but you know Joel would make it happen. He’s learned your body fast, and how to wring pleasure out of you as fast or as slow as he wants to. “O—on you,” you manage to pant out two coherent words and try for a few more. “Want to cum on your cock, Joel. Please?”

“I love when you beg, baby.” He groans, having heard so many people beg him over the years. Often for their lives when there’s no saving them, but this is what he loves. You, begging for him to make you feel good. “You’ll cum on my cock, baby. All over it.”

“Always do.” The way you shift forward on the counter is proof of how eager you are, in case he wasn’t sure. Every time you shift or roll your hips, his fingers stroke that spot again and you have to bite back a moan.

“I know you do.” He grunts, unbuttoning his pants to pull his hard cock out. “Always so good for me.”

It goes back to the first time he called you his good girl, and you know it. That was the moment you called it quits on any resistance whatsoever. “Always. Fuck, always, baby.”

Joel smirks and pumps his cock, listening to make sure that the kid isn't coming downstairs. He doesn't want to scar her, but he doesn't want to wait to get you upstairs. He groans when he has to pull his fingers out of you and hums. "You ready?"

"I don't think there's ever a time when I'm not." You nod enthusiastically, glancing up at the closed door that leads from the kitchen to the living room, and when no sound can be heard from your sleeping daughter you look back to Joel. "Take what you want, baby. I'm just along for the ride."

It only takes a moment to notch himself at your entrance, his lips fused with yours as he starts to push inside you. Loving how tight you immediately squeeze his cock inside your walls.

Every sound you have gets poured into that kiss, muting your moans and whines so they don't echo through the house. In this position the best thing you can do is hang onto the counter and let Joel take what he wants — exactly as you said — and that kiss is another perfect way to stay connected to him as he starts to move.

There’s a perfect rhythmic pace he can keep that doesn’t hurt his back and still keeps your toes curling in their socks. He’s tested it, although he never told you and he uses that pace now. Holding onto your hips as he rocks into you again and again, swallowing your moans greedily as he basks in your utter want of him.

One hand has to move to his shoulder, clutching his shirt as he fucks into you hard enough that it feels like he's stealing your breath but not so hard that you'll end up walking funny and give away what you've been up to. No doubt Ellie has noticed by now, but there's no reason to rub it in. There's just nothing better than basking in Joel's full attention. In being his sole focus. lt's like coming home.

Once he’s broken away from your lips, there’s not a part of your exposed skin that Joel doesn’t kiss. Loving to nibble and kiss along your neck and chest. Inhaling the milky scent of your breasts, heavier since Caroline is due for a feeding when she wakes up. Though he doesn’t touch them, knowing they need to be left alone for his child. “Fuck.”

"So good." With his ear right by your mouth, you can just gasp and sigh right there for only him to hear. "Always fuck me so good."

“This little pussy was made for me.” Joel grunts, loving how you spasm around him when he pours filth into your ears. Sometimes his fingers and words get you off so quickly, he’s amazed you haven’t been worked up all day. “Squeezin’ me so tight.”

"Can't help it," you chuckle low in his ear and have to bite back a gasp when his hips hit yours sharply. "Your cock's just so fucking big.'

He snorts and twitches inside of you at the breathless praise. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” He asks, moving one hand down so he can rub your clit as he thrusts into you.

"'M close, baby." The breathless promise comes on a whine and you have to work to not just let your mouth hang open and Joel's rhythm picks up and the broad pad of one of his thumbs skates over your slick, swollen clit. "So fucking close, oh god."

His teeth snap together, breathing heavily and his face is almost set in a determined frown. Watching you as his hips shuffle forward to fill you again and again. Loving how your body heaves and lurches every time he swipes his fingers over your clit, almost overstimulated - you’re so close. “Be my good girl, baby.” He growls. “Cum for me.”

Whether you’re responding to his praise or to the near overstimulation is anyone’s guess, but it’s only a moment later that your legs start to tense and shake around his waist and your mouth falls open in a silent sob as you come apart for him.

The heat, the pressure around his cock is exquisite as you start to cum. The rush of wetness helps him move when your walls squeeze tight and he loves the nearly non existent sound you make. Taking his hand off your hip, grabbing the back of your neck and dragging your lips back to his as he fucks you through your orgasm.

These are the times — mid orgasm with a foggy brain and no filter for your thoughts — that you wish Internally for another baby. Accident or planned, it doesn’t matter to you. It’s just that flash of a thought as your climax washes over you that you know will subside again but it makes you hold onto his kiss that much tighter. Grateful for what you do have. For him and for Caroline, above all.

He feels your body relax, going boneless as he continues to batter against your fluttering walls. He’s close but he can’t pull out just yet. “Fuck.” He groans. “So pretty when you cum.” The praise is whispered against your lips.

“Just for you,” you promise in a shaky breath, practically gulping down air as the intensity of your orgasm subsides.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He hisses, regret lacing his tone because he’s having to pull his hips back. Letting go of you and wrapping his hand around his cock as he starts to quickly jerk himself off, the other hand poised to catch the mess so there isn’t a huge cleanup of the counters.

If you could have gotten there quickly, you’d be on your knees to catch every last drop, but you definitely move a little bit slower after he’s just gotten done fucking you — mostly just because your legs are jelly. Instead you watch Joel with dark eyes, satisfied temporarily but always wanting. It’ll be another few hours before he can even think of going again, but that doesn’t mean you won’t daydream about him.

It’s not as satisfying as when he’s buried to the hilt inside, but he can’t risk it, can’t risk you. Clenching his jaw, he hisses slightly as he stops stroking his cock, panting as he looks up at you and leans in to kiss you once more.

“I love you.” Simple words, but loaded with so much emotion that you sigh a little after saying them. “So much, Joel.”

“I love you too.” He promises, pulling back to take his cum filled hand to the sink to wash before he gets a rag for you. “Don’t ever think I don’t.”

“Well it was a little touch and go there while we weren’t anywhere near each other,” you tease, flashing him a grin. “But I don’t anymore. I promise.”

Snorting, Joel rolls his eyes at you and after washing his hands, he soaps up a rag and comes back over to you to clean you up. “Hush.” He grumbles, biting his lip as he spreads your thighs again.

“Never.” Instead your grin widens and you steal another kiss while he cleans you up. Only after that do you carefully hop down from the kitchen counter to pull your clothes back on.

Right as you are buttoning your pants, he hears the first little squawk from Caroline and grins. “I’ll change her.” He tosses the rag into the diaper pail to soak. “Drink your lukewarm tea before you come feed her.” He orders, kissing your temple before he walks out of the kitchen, already buttoned and buckled back up.

“Yes, sir.” There’s not even any point to protesting. You just pick up your tea and admire his ass as he strides out of the room.

Caroline is definitely feeling better, waving her arms and squealing when she sees Joel. The bubbly, happy grin on her adorable face never fails to bolster his spirits, which are always pretty high after being intimate with you. “Just like your momma.” He teases as he picks her up with a grunt. “Always squealing.”

With the door open it isn’t really difficult, but you still lean out from the kitchen and huff just loudly enough for him to hear. “I heard that.” Not that he’s wrong. Not at all.

Joel chuckles, nudging his nose against his daughter’s cheek and listening to her gurgle. “You were supposed to, baby.” He tells you, grinning at Caroline when he pulls back. “You were supposed to.”

******

Joel spends a decent portion of the next few days out of the house, helping Tommy with some vague project that you don't think much of. He had taken Ellie with him once but she has been mainly at home with you. The town is enjoying their preparations for Valentine's Day at the end of the week, and from time to time you've found yourself daydreaming about Joel doing something spontaneously romantic but you aren't expecting anything. It's not as though he can pop into a jewelry store or go down to the sweet shop for chocolates. Even flowers aren't really on the docket these days. It doesn't matter. Not really. All that matters is that he comes home safe every night, and Joel definitely does that.

It had been a pain in the ass, but the pram is finished; even Tommy is impressed with the final product and Joel had used some stuffing from cushions to make a padded layer on the bottom to make it more comfortable for Caroline. It’s got a back that can be adjusted to tilt up for when she’s older and a cover for the sun or rain. Now, he’s just waiting on the varnish to dry and it will be ready.

It’s late morning when he comes back from Tommy’s today, looking as pleased with himself as Joel ever does, and your plan to go down to Jackson’s seamstress to inquire about a skirt or dress goes by the wayside immediately. “Hey handsome.” Out on the porch with Caroline against your chest, you wave to him when you see him approach.

“Hey.” He climbs the steps with only a slight protest from his knees and gives Caroline a quick kiss before letting his own linger on your lips for a moment. “So, they are having a movie tonight for the celebration.” He reminds you, as if that’s not been the topic of the town for days.

“Did you want to go?” He hasn’t mentioned it at all so you wondered if maybe he was ignoring Valentine’s altogether.

“Was thinking that if you wanted to go, we could.” He shrugs one shoulder and shuffles his feet as he reaches into his jacket pocket. “Unless you want to stay home and read.”

“Read what?” You’re looking at his face, not his hands, and it takes an enigmatic smile from Joel before you glance down and see a very official card sitting in his hand. It’s a business card for the old Jackson public library, printed and crisp, but when he flips it over you see your name scrawled there in beautiful cursive and gasp. “What is this?”

“There’s a town library.” Joel explains. “They collected all the books out of the houses and any they brought back from scouting missions.” He smiles. “Thought you might like to go browse and check some out.”

“Honey.” Instantly your arms are around him, squeezing him into your side so you can show him how grateful you are without crushing Caroline between you in the process. “This is incredible. A library? That’s — it’s so sweet of you.” The grin on your face is wide, spreading to overtake you by the second. It might not be just anyone’s perfect Valentine’s gesture, but it’s definitely yours. “Thank you, love.”

He huffs in relief that you aren’t upset at his gesture. “You’re welcome. I knew you would want to read some more.”

“I wonder if they gathered up all the kids' books, too?” More bedtime stories for Caroline would be amazing as she gets older. Right now lullabies still do it when she’s fussy, but you don’t expect that to last much longer.

“I’m sure they have. Which will be amazing for Caroline.” He had read to Sarah from the time she was a baby and wonders if they have some of the books he had read to her. It would be a little tradition to read them to his other daughter.

“Thank you,” you murmur again, leaning against him and pressing a kiss to his cheek before you look down at your daughter. “Can you say thank you Daddy? For being awesome and loving us so, so much?”

“You have to come with me to get the next present.” He snorts, enjoying the way that Caroline automatically coos and waves her arms.

“There’s a next present?” Your head tilts in curiosity and a smile cracks across your face again. “Mr. Miller, you’ve been busy.”

“Not like I can get you flowers or chocolates.” He’s embarrassed by the surprise in your voice and he shrugs.

“You didn’t have to do anything at all. I still know you love me.” The thing about Valentine’s Day is that it has been so surprising to see it revived. It isn’t necessarily as surprising that he is embracing it. Not when he’s working so hard to relieve the sins of his past and whatever happened with Sarah’s mother.

“I know.” He picks up the backpack you had started using as a diaper bag for the baby and glances at you. “You want to carry her? Or do you want me to get our little princess?”

“I’ve got her for now, she’s comfortable.” Sometimes the biggest thing really is her comfort, so you’re not going to disturb your little girl for right now. “Where are we going?”

“Tommy’s workshop.” He picks up her little blanket and throws it over his arm. “Hopefully you like it, it’s more of a practical gift.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it.” If he thought of it? Put care and love into just thinking that you will appreciate it? Then whatever it is will be perfect.

Like all babies and families with babies, it takes a few minutes to get going. The pram should be completely dry, the fans blowing on it and he wonders if you will like to. Sure he could have tried to find one at an abandoned store, but for him, it was about making something. It had been a long time since he had done that and it had felt pretty good.

“Ellie seems like she’s adjusting okay to being back in school.” The walk over to Tommy’s doesn’t take long, and you’re curious to see what he’s been up to with his brother.

“She’s enjoying the school having zero to do with FEDRA.” Joel agrees. “I think she likes the days they take care of the livestock the best. She loves animals.”

"She loves them and she's great with them." Your free hand slips into Joel's while you walk, enjoying the sunny, clear day in spite of the cold. "That's a hell of a valuable skill set in this world. Keeping the livestock happy and healthy is vital."

“Yes it is.” Joel nods. “Tommy and John think they might have gotten that old grist mill working.” He tells you in passing. “The kids are going to have a class on that, come next week.”

"Everything but wheat flour," you joke with a shake of your head. "Although that oat bread was pretty good. John's got a good thing going in that bakery he set up."

“Exactly and there’s a sack of barley seeds they want to plant and make cornmeal.” He has been impressed with Jackson so far and wants to stay here. There’s no reason to go back to Boston and he would never put his daughter under FEDRA control.

Squeezing his hand, you smile up at Joel and cradle Caroline with your other hand. "It's nice here."

“It is.” There are moments where Joel doesn’t trust it, he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the ugliness to infect Jackson, but he wants this to be a haven, for you and Ellie and Caroline. Especially for Caroline. He wants her to be able to grow up without being exposed to the rawness of the outside world as much as possible. To give her a chance at normalcy. “You want to stay, sweetheart?” He asks quietly.

"I can't imagine any place being better for us." On your chest, Caroline is looking around her with the characteristic wonder of an infant, and you grin and place a kiss on her little tuft of hair. "Your brother is here, there's reliable shelter and food. Ellie is safe to the point where she's enjoying school. It's...I'm not going to call it perfect but it feels like spitting in the face of the universe if we just walk away."

“I feel like the other shoe is going to drop, but it’s also the most relaxed I’ve been in years.” Joel admits. “I’ve- there’s more to worry about than me. And I’ve worried a lot since Lake City.” He had tried to hide the panic attacks, but you had seen signs of them. “I think we should stay.”

"You're entitled to worry." It's just a quiet reminder, but it's important that Joel remember that he has permission to feel whatever way he feels about things. Having a family and being a protector in this environment is a stressful thing. "But you're also entitled to be happy."

“That’s the hard part of this to swallow.” Joel admits, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s alright, baby. I want to stay, if you do.”

"If not for us, then for the girls." That's really the key here, and you pick up his hand to press a kiss to the back of it. "I would follow you anywhere. But they deserve whatever childhood we can give them."

“Yes they do.” The door to Tommy’s shop is just up ahead and he smiles slightly. “Hopefully this next gift will help that. At least for one of them.”

"What did you do?" At this point you're too curious not to feel bubbly about it, and you desperately wish the younger Miller brother's workshop had good windows.

“You’ll see.” He chuckles at your curiosity and lets go of your hand so he can open the door. “After you.”

"Come on, baby," you murmur to Caroline, grinning as you duck into the workshop.

Sitting in the middle of the space is a beautifully put together and obviously handmade perambulator, with a padded cloth bottom and a sun visor that...seems to be moveable as well as handcrafted. "Oh my god..." you breathe, stepping into the room further and bending over the pram with tears in your eyes. "Baby...did you make this?"

“I know I could probably find one, somewhere…” Joel can’t tell if you love it or hate it, so he shuffles slightly. “But I wanted to build one that you could use for a long time.”

"Honey, it's beautiful!" The tears in your eyes are pure love and gratitude, and you backtrack immediately to give him a kiss before going to inspect the pram that he put together with his own two hands. "It—it's incredible. You...how long did this take you?"

“It’s what I’ve been working on this week.” Joel explains, walking over to it to show you the shade and how it can flip down to become a basket to put things in.

"I can't believe you did this." There is such a wonder in your voice. Awe and love, and shock that anyone would put this much work into such an enormous gesture.

“Figured she was going to get too busy and too fidgety to haul around on your chest all the time.” He tells you. “Plus it can sit up when she’s really moving.”

"Do you want to see what Daddy made you, honey?" Caroline keeps reaching for the pram like she knows it's hers, and you look to Joel hopefully. "Is it ready for her to try out?"

“Yeah.” He holds up her blanket. “Figured you want a cover on her since she’s not right up against you.”

"It's perfect," you murmur again. Unwrapping her from your chest is a careful process, but soon a squirming little girl is ready to be set down in her very first pram and she giggles with glee just as soon as you lay her blanket over her. "Daddy made you the perfect little pram so we can push you around and let you see town without having to be attached to my chest the whole time."

“Tommy helped too.” Joel admits, pleased that you seem thrilled with the pram. “He wants to make one for Maria now.”

"Brand new family heirlooms." It's a magical and unexpected gesture, that you reach down to tickle Caroline's belly and can't resist kissing Joel, as well. "This kind of puts my Valentine's surprise to shame, babe."

“No it doesn’t.” Joel immediately frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

"You didn't have to do anything for me, either." With a grin, you lean over and kiss his cheek again while Caroline looks around her pram in wonder. "I went to see the doc the other day." He's been busy — apparently building you a damn stroller with his own two hands — so you had taken it upon yourself to go in the meantime.

“Yeah?” Joel’s eyes widen slightly and he looks Caroline in her pram to you. “And?”

"And." He looks like he might jump up and down from excitement, and you can't help but laugh. "She had a diaphragm for me."

He frowns and tries to remember what the hell that is. It’s been a long time since he’s talked about birth control in depth. “That- that’s that thing that goes inside you before sex, right?”

“Right.” Another giggle escapes you, and you lean into his side. “It’s not full proof, but it’s something.”

“Yeah.” Joel knows that no birth control is perfect, but he feels better with that. “Do you still want to have me pull out?” He asks seriously.

“Is it irresponsible to say no?” You just want to feel him completely, but you’ll understand if he declines. You’ve already brought one baby into the world, the idea was to prevent two. “It’s your decision, love. All I care about is getting to be close to you.”

“I say we keep track of your cycle like you normally do.” Joel murmurs. “I’ll pull out when you’re ovulating.”

“In that case.” The grin on your face turns absolutely devilish. “No need to pull out tonight.”

Joel blows out a loud breath and reaches down to adjust himself. “That’s the best fuckin’ Valentine’s you could ever give me.”

“I thought you might like it.” Compared to what he’s done? It’s barely anything at all. But the chance to be as close to each other as possible is something you’ve both been craving as you’ve realized the depth of feelings you have.

“Love it.” Joel growls, reaching for you to pull you close and press his lips to yours for a quick and harsh kiss.

“Love it a lot. Got it.” You melt against him and bury your face in his chest, glad to be held in his arms for even a few moments at a time. “We’ll have some grown up time after the movie tonight?”

"Already asked Ellie if she would mind the bassinet being in her room." He tells you with a grin. "Bottles ready."

“Scheming!” You erupt into giggles, cheeks burning hot and desire starting to ache in your core. “You have been scheming.”— Today at 8:02 PM

"I have been scheming." He admits shamelessly. "And there's one more thing that I have to give you."Today at 8:07 PM

“Joel.” A pout comes with a tilt of your head and you shake it immediately. “Baby, no. You’ve already done so much.”Today at 8:12 PM

"This is something from me....for you." He promises softly. "I wanted to give you something that shows you how much I love you." He swallows. "Do you want it now, or do you want me to - you know, make it romantic?" Today at 8:25 PM

“I want you to do whatever will make you happiest.” Another soft kiss between you makes you melt that much more. “I’ll love it no matter what.”day at 8:33 PM

"I kind of want to give it to you now, before I lose the damn thing." Joel admits with a huff of amusement, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a faded velvet box.at 8:42 PM

“What…?” It may be a long while since the last time you walked into a jewelry store, but you still remember what a ring box looks like as your eyes flick between the box and Joel. “Honey?”day at 8:52

"It's- do you know how fucking hard it was to remember birthstones?" He snorts, shaking his head. "I wanted to get you something that had meaning. That's symbolic of how we came together."

He holds it out to you a little more surely and you realize your hands are shaking a little when you reach to open it. The ring inside has been cleaned, it's shining in the dim sunlight streaming into the workshop and the tears spill over immediately. "You—you figured out Caroline's birthstone?" It had never occurred to you to even try to think of what it would be, although you did figure out what her zodiac was while holding her one night right after she was born. y at 9:13 PM

"Yeah." He looks down at the ring and smiles. "There was a book in the library." He admits, not wanting you to think he was some kind of genius. "You told me when she was born, and I'm never gonna forget that." He bites his lip. "I was thinking you could wear it like an engagement ring or whatever, if you want."y at 9:18 PM

"Are you saying you want me to wear it like an engagement ring, or that I can think of it that way if I want to?" Slipping the ring out of the box, it's obvious immediately that it will fit you pretty perfectly and you wonder if Joel tried to do any sneaky measuring of your ring finger while you were sleeping or something like that.t 9:21 PM

He bites his lip and resists the urge to fold his arms over his chest. "I want- it's kind of up to you, baby." He reminds you. "I should ask you though, right?" He's talking to himself, rolling his eyes at how he is bungling it up. "Do you want to get married? If they do weddings here?"9:29 PM

If you were going to tease him, you would remind him that his brother and Maria got married. That there is something like marriage here in Jackson, even without the way weddings were in the past. And the end of the world, marriage is about a commitment between people. Not about a thousand dollar dress or haggling over the guest list. And honestly? That is the way you would have wanted it even back then. "Yes," you nod, that smile spreading back across your face as you hold your shaky hand out to him. "Yes, I absolutely do."35 PM

Joel takes the hint, carefully pulling the ring from the box and taking your hand gently to push the ring onto your finger. "It fits." He sighs out in relief. "Tying a string around your finger to measure it worked." He looks up into your eyes with a grin. "How do you like it?"t 9:41 PM

"It's perfect." Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press into his space and let yourself just breathe him in. Grateful for the coincidence that brought you together, for the accident that has sealed your connection, and for the love that has bound you. "I love you."

“I love you too, baby.” Joel vows softly, pressing his lips to yours. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

______

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[justaperson15]

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[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

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Chapter Eight - Deep into the hole

“I can't believe this is happening. What do you think happened to him?” Amelie asks, looking more than a little worked up.

“I really don't know…” You lie. It feels awful lying to her, but telling her the truth would be far worse. Why did you ever have to cross paths with Lestat?

“I can't believe it.” She says again.

You focus on making the coffee. There was very little chance of you getting any sleep right now anyway. You pour two cups and hand one to Amelie. She takes it with a soft ‘thank you.’

“You know… you were the last person I saw him with…”

You look at her. “Please tell me you're not accusing me of anything. Amelie, I don't know where he is.” 

“I know. I was just saying…” The tone of her voice leaves you a little unconvinced. There's doubt lingering in your mind and for the first time ever you're left wondering who your real friends might be.

“I'm a lot of things, but a murderer ain't one.”

Amelie seems to realize how her words had sounded and moves closer to you. She reaches out for your hand and sighs loudly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. I've just been thinking too much.”

“I know. I'm sorry. Please don't let whatever is happening come between us. You're one of the few people I have.”

Amelie puts down her coffee so she can hug you. You return the gesture, but doubt is still eating away at your mind.

‘Come to me, Chéri.’

You hear him in your head. He was probably disappointed you had left. You needed time to think before you went back. There was too much going on.

You wake suddenly. Light is illuminating your room through your curtains. Amelie is fast asleep on your couch and you're curled up in a chair beside her. Two forgotten cups of coffee sit on the table.

Your head pounds as you get up out of the chair. You take a few moments to gather yourself and then start cleaning up. Amelie only stirs after you start filling the sink with water to wash up with.

“What time is it?” She asks, stretching.

“Noon.”

“Oh no! I'm supposed to be at the theater to answer questions about Noah. Damn it. I have to go.” She scrambles to get up.

“Wait a minute.” You wipe your hands and walk over to her. “What do you mean?”

“The police were going to go back to the theater today to ask questions. I promised Jack I'd be there.”

You feel an uneasy feeling in your body. “I'll take you.”

Arriving at the theater, you only see one police car parked outside. It gives you a feeling of dread as you look at it. Amelie leads the way inside.

All the performers are gathered in the lobby. They're all talking amongst each other. Through the commotion you can see Jack talking to two officers. After a few moments he turns to everyone and steps up on a chair.

“Quiet!”

Everyone falls silent. Jack turns to the officers. The tallest of the two steps forward. “We're here to enquire about Noah. It would seem his disappearance holds more questions than answers. One by one we're going to take you into the theater and ask you questions. If anyone knows anything about where he may be, dead or alive, please come forward.”

It feels like it gets harder to breathe.

The shorter officer steps forward and calls the first name. While they go inside, the rest of the crew all begin talking again. They're all trying to figure out what's happening. Jack gets bombarded with questions.

You take a seat on one of the small couches in the lobby. Amelie turns and looks at you quietly. She walks over and takes a seat beside you. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just… can't believe this is happening. Do they really think something happened to Noah?”

“His sister certainly thinks so. She went to his place and all his stuff was still there, but the door was locked. Reckon he was taken or something before he even got home.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Was Lestat even going to do anything about all of this? He knows what's happening. He surely knows how much trouble you're in. Then again, can the police even connect you with Noah's disappearance. No one actually saw you with him alone. Lestat came in quick at the time and took him just as fast.

There's no evidence you were with him after the show.

One by one more performers were called into the theater. The ones who have been questioned already get asked to leave immediately. You watch each of them head on home.

Jack comes over to you after half the lobby is empty. He sees you with Amelie.

“I didn't realize you were. You don't need to be here.”

You look up at him. “Don't they want to question everyone?”

“Yes, but you're clear.”

You furrow your brows at him. “What do you mean I'm clear?”

“I already told the police that after the incident on stage, you left and Noah came to me. You were gone before the end of the show.”

“What?”

“Noah came to talk to me after you left the stage that night. I don't know where he went after, but when I came to your room, you were already gone.”

Jack doesn't know about the brief altercation in your dressing room. It really did happen too quickly for anyone to notice.

“Oh, I see.”

Jack places a hand on your shoulder in support. “You look tired. Go home.”

“No, let me stay.”

The short officer comes out to call for the next person when he sees you and Jack. He walks over and checks his list. “You're the pianist.”

“That's right.”

“Jack has already cleared up your whereabouts, but may we ask you some questions?”

Jack goes to interfere, but you're faster. “Of course. I'll come with you now.”

Jack looks at you with a column expression and watches you go with the officer.

Amelie looks up at him. “She'll be fine. She always is.”

“I know.”

Inside the theater you make your way to where the tall officer is. He's writing some things down. As you approach he looks up.

“This is the pianist Jack mentioned,” the other officer said.

“Oh. Wasn't expecting you here today.”

“I want to help if I can.” You tell him.

He nods. “I'm officer Michaels. That's officer Jackson. Take a seat, ma'am.”

You sit down beside him.

“Did you know Noah?” He asks.

“Not very well. He came to the theater to perform. Jack had suggested we do a duet, but I declined.”

“Yes, I heard as much. May we ask why?”

“I perform alone. I play solo.”

Michaels nods and makes a note of that. He looks at you again. “What happened that night?”

“I was performing. Same as I do every Friday. I was only just into my first song when Noah stormed the stage singing his heart out. I was furious, but only because he ruined my music. Not that he was a bad singer, just that I like my music to speak without the need for words.”

Michaels nods again. “Then what happened?”

Lestat happened. But you can't tell him that.

“I left the stage, ending my performance early. I was not in much mood to be made a fool of. I retreated to my dressing room to gather my things.”

“And then?”

“I went home. I was too embarrassed and furious to talk to anyone. I was gone before the show was over. Didn't even say bye to Jack.”

It wasn't a complete lie. It wasn't the whole truth either.

“I see. Jack said as much. He spoke to Noah briefly and then went to check on you after he had the next performer on stage. Your dressing room was empty. No sign of Noah either. You did not leave with him that night?”

“Not at all.”

Michaels makes a note. “Understood. Thank you for your time, ma'am.”

You nod and rise from the seat. However, before you get too far, you turn. “May I ask, what do you think happened to him?”

“I can't say for certain, but it is likely he disappeared after leaving the theater, but before reaching his home. Rest assured, We will find our answers.”

You nod and leave quietly.

By the time you're leaving the theater, Amelie is going in for questioning. You don't stop to talk to anyone, just like the others did before you. You're on your way home when someone comes up beside you.

“Hey there.”

You turn and see Eleanor has joined you. You had just wanted to go home.

“Hello.”

“May I join you for a moment?” She asks kindly.

“Sure.”

You walk in silence for a few moments before she talks. “My brother wrote about you in his letter to me.”

“He did?” You ask, almost worried about what he had said. You felt too involved in something you didn't actually do.

“He said he had the most beautiful piano piece he had ever heard in his life. He had said to me that he was going to sing to that piano one day.”

You look at her. “He really wanted that?”

“Yes. My brother is an admirer of the arts. Music is his passion.” She smiles. “He used to sing to me all the time.

“I see…”

“It's a shame I didn't get to see him sing with you. You'd make a good pair.”

Her comment makes you feel rather sick. You can feel your stomach turning as you walk. You just wanted to go home and disappear for a few days.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… tired.”

She seems to fall for your lie and loops her arm around yours. “Let me walk you home.”

You decide to just let her.

As you walk you drift away with your thoughts. It's still day, so Lestat will be asleep. Should you go visit him at nightfall? Should you just leave him be? Lestat seems like more trouble than he's worth.

Yet, the way he looks at you. The way he held you in his arms and kissed you. You can't deny your attraction to him. Lestat was like a drug you couldn't get enough of. You wanted to see him again.

Though he is still the reason this whole mess has happened.

You were confused on what to do.

Before you know it you're standing on your doorstep. Eleanor lets go of your arm and smiles kindly at you.

“Take care.”

You find yourself smiling softly. “I'll try.”

She walks away slowly, clearly lost in her own thoughts. You can't help watching her go. She shouldn't have come here. Everything would have been fine had she simply not come here.

Too late to do anything about it now.

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[quinnyundertow]

Picking up the Pieces

For my bby Choso

MANGA SPOILERS BELOW

Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort

1,800 Words

Summary:

The fight with Sukuna has finally ended. Before he’s wisked off the battlefield the boy named Yuji begs you to try and save what’s left of his older brother.

AN:

I have been drowning in writers block. The manga has me so damn depressed and the one I want to live most right now is our baby Choso. He deserves to live that domestic life he never got to feel. Best big brother ever.

Picking up the Pieces

Choso had thought for sure he had died. No he definitely died. He had protected his little brother with his life. There wasn’t a more noble way to die. Now his brother would have the chance to thrive and grow old. Find a first love, have his first kiss, buy his first home. Have children that would have called him uncle Chocho. Never mind that Choso never had the chance to do any of those things either. Yuji would have the chance that he never did; and that made it all worthwhile.

“I’ve got you, just hold on.” Someone is talking to him. The voice is what he imagines angels sound like. Do curses get to go to heaven? Maybe death won’t be so bad. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

He’s so tired. More tired than he’s ever been in his existence. A part of him is annoyed you keep shaking him awake. Just let him rest for a minute. “Yuji needs you, so you can’t give up yet.”

Yuji? Who’s Yuji and why did he-? Yuji. Yuji! He takes a gasping breath in as his chest keeps getting harshly pushed on. He doesn’t know what CPR is but it’s painful. You keep pushing against his broken ribs. Don’t you know that’s excruciating? Wait, what about Yuji? “Yuji?” The words come out strangled and almost too low to hear.

“Holy shit you’re alive.” Your voice breaks with a mixture of relief and joy. “We're not out of the woods yet but damn it but we’ll get there!”

He tries to ask for Yuji again but all that escapes is a hacking cough from all the smoke he inhaled during his fight with Sukuna.

Thankfully, you somehow manage to understand and respond accordingly, “Oh, right. Yeah, Yuji is okay. Better than okay. Well I mean they rushed him to Shoko, our healer, but he’s gonna be okay. He’s not a vessel anymore. They won. I don’t know how they pulled it off but they won.”

The wave of relief that washes over him is visible. Your voice is coming in a little panicked now, “Woah, woah, woah! Nope! Yuji is okay but he still needs you. When they rushed him off he was asking for you. He begged me to save you. Said you’re the best big brother in the world.” Your tone warbles and his face feels wet. At least he thinks it does. Are you crying? Why are you crying? He’s a curse. You’re presumably one of Yuji’s companions, a sorcerer. Shouldn’t you want him dead? He’s straining to try and make out your features but you look like a shadow on a curtain or static on a tv. Are his eyes even open? Does it matter? He feels so nice, so warm. You’re cradling him and he can’t help but wonder if this is what his mothers love would have felt like. If his father wasn’t a rapist and if he hadn’t been born a monster.

“Shit, shit, shit. I’m losing him again!” Your voice is shrill and screaming as you wake him up again. You’re yelling names he doesn’t know, “Nitta! Nitta!” The sound is fading out. He can’t hear anything now. That’s alright. It’s perfect to go back to sleep to. He’s so warm and lovingly held. Just a little nap, well..maybe a long one. A nice long sleep.

~~

“I’ve got you, just hold on.” Your fingers keep slipping as you’re trying to do chest compressions. There’s just so much blood. The entire area reeks of it. Blood, smoke, dust. Smells of a battlefield. His pulse is so slow you’re not sure if it’s stopped or not. “Don’t you dare die on me.” This was bad. The worst you’ve ever seen. His body is so burnt and mutilated at this point he isn’t able to regenerate like a curse normally would. You try to infuse him with your cursed energy but it’s like his body doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s trying to shut down and you’re here telling it to work harder.

You can’t give up though. You’ve barely met the man in front of you but you know Yuji. As Shoko rushed Yuji off the battlefield his eyes had met yours. Choso’s name on his lips, his eyes a plea. “Please, Cho- tell him he’s the best big brother I could have asked for.”

The pain in Yuji’s eyes had been so raw. So visceral. Not even knowing what you were agreeing to you had yelled to Yuji, “I’ll do everything I can!”

So here you are. You aren’t sure if your reverse curse is even doing anything at this point. There are so many disconnected pieces of tissue. Blood vessels and veins so destroyed there is nothing left to repair. Nowhere for your technique to start. You can’t create something from nothing. He’s not breathing. Chest compressions. You’re throwing all the strength you have left into them. You vaguely remember someone saying you should push to the beat of “Staying Alive”. The song feels inappropriate in your head but it helps your timing. At least you hope it does.

The curse lying on the ground has given everything for his brother. Now you need him to live for himself. Grunting with exertion you manage to say, “Yuji needs you, so you can’t give up yet.”

When the corpse in front of you gasps you’re momentarily stunned. When are you supposed to stop chest compressions? Now? He’s hacking and you're trying to help him clear his airway. You're shocked he has an airway. Sukuna had practically obliterated him with flames. His lips are moving. You feel your cursed energy finally managed to find something inside of him it can work with.

Hands under his underarms, you pull. He’s not as heavy as you expected. Of course he isn't, he doesn't have anything left below the knees. You’ve managed to get his head resting on your thighs as you sit in the crumbling city turned battleground. He manages to croak out one word. “Yuji?” The word comes out strangled and almost too low to hear.

“Holy shit you’re alive.” Your voice breaks with a mixture of relief and joy. He would ask about his brother when he’s the one who is holding on by a thread. “We're not out of the woods yet but damn it we’ll get there!”

He’s giving this terrifying sounding cough that’s more liquid than air; but to cough means he has something there to cough with. His eyes open and his pupils are unfocused and blown. They don’t respond at all to light.

His brows are furrowing in panic when you don’t immediately respond, “Oh, right. Yeah, Yuji is okay. Better than okay. Well I mean they rushed him to Shoko, our healer but he’s gonna be okay. He’s not a vessel anymore. They won. I don’t know how they pulled it off but they won.”

His lip somehow manages to curl into a hint of a smile. He must not be able to feel any pain due to all the adrenaline. He’s relaxing against you and his eyes are closing. “Woah, woah, woah! Nope! Yuji is okay but he still needs you. When they rushed him off he was asking for you. He begged me to save you. Said you’re the best big brother in the world.” Your tone warbles and you’re yelling at yourself to hold it together. Tears fall from your visage on to his. You want to at least comfort him in his potential final moments.

Your hands go to rest on his cheeks. Your fingers lightly caressing him as you continue to give everything you have left in yourself to heal him. You brush his dark sweaty bangs off his forehead. His eyes open partially again staring into the sky. He’s rejecting your cursed energy again. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m losing him again!” You have to make an executive decision. You had been trying to give him the strength to kickstart his own regenerative capabilities but there’s not enough energy in him anymore to utilize it. You have to stop the bleeding. You have to sacrifice his legs below the knee if he’s going to survive. Rather than regrow the limbs like he normally would you focus purely on closing every open wound you can find. FUCK. Where is Shoko? Where is Arata Nitta? Someone? Anyone? There are too many wounded and dying. Not enough healers. Never enough healers.

A streak of platinum blonde hair in the distance catches your gaze, “Nitta! Nitta!” He was one of your underclassmen before you graduated. The Kyoto school is small enough to where everyone knows everyone. Nita’s looking for you in the rubble, unable to tell where your voice is coming from at first. “Arata!” His eyes lock on yours and he’s sprinting through the chaos. He looks like a track star the way he’s jumping building detritus like they’re hurdles.

He’s leaning over you trying to find where you are bleeding from but it’s all Choso’s blood. At least you think it is. “Can you help him?” Nitta’s face jerks down to what he had thought was a corpse in your arms.

He’s shaking his head no but he’s doing the movements for his technique. It won’t heal the curse hybrid but it will buy him time and at this point you’ll take anything you can get.

There’s a sharp tug in your gut as your cursed energy feels like it’s suddenly being siphoned out of you. You originally couldn’t find any of Choso’s energy to help him. Now large lifesaving gulps of your cursed energy flow into the man fighting for his life on your lap. You gasp in pain as you try to limit the amount of energy you are giving out at once. Choso’s not even conscious but instinctually his body is struggling like it’s drowning and you're the life preserver.

Nitta looks panicked, “He’s going to kill you!” You can’t afford to pass out now there are so many more people that need healing. Choso is unconsciously pulling you under with him. “This is a curse. It feeds off our kind. He’ll take from you until there’s nothing left.”

Shit. You feel like you’re going to faint. Choso’s eyelids are fluttering, they open as if seeing you for the first time. He’s clearly still delirious as his onyx eyes look at you confused. You visibly flinch, a groan in pain leaving you as he takes more of your energy. Understanding clicks in his brain and the rapid siphoning of your energy abruptly stops. Nitta is calling your name.

Nitta tries to pull you away from Choso so he can’t cling to your energy again, but you refuse to budge. You're not sure if Choso is even conscious despite his eyes jerkily roaming your face. Caressing Choso’s brow, you lean over him. Your lips are near his ear as you murmur comforting words. “I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.”

Chapter 2

AN:

If people want more I’ll continue. It just flowed out so here it is. Please don’t comment if you don’t have anything nice to say.

[madwomansapologist]

YOU LOVE BLOOD TOO MUCH (BUT NOT LIKE I DO) | MASTERLIST

★彡 synopsis: awakened in a new era, sukuna found endless opportunities to hurt and maim others. he also found you, a sorcerer with an ever-expading soul bonded to oaths of pacifism and self-control. allured by the strength you decided to hide, sukuna realized this era could be far more fascinating than he expected.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ"All is fair in love and war." — The Crane Wives

bella's note: we're solving plot points with power of friendship, mlm/wlw pairings and a gun toji handed me by accident. think of a dead character. wrong, they're alive. yes, even that one. yes, specially that one. yes, thank you for remembering about this random guy, he's also thriving.

in this series i want to explore the quiet moments of jujutsu kaisen, battles within clans and how being perceived as a monster since birth can push people into paths they otherwise wouldn't cross. and blood. a lot of blood.

and, of course, i want to make those characters happier. they deserve it. they will suffer a lot before that reaching point, but it'll be worth it.

initial warnings: canon level of violence, blood and gore, awful villains being awful villains, jujutsu tech being jujutsu tech, kenjaku be damned, miwa is not useless, fix-it, no major character death, future explicit sexual content, plot with porn, use of she/her pronouns for special grade!reader.

pairings: ryomen sukuna x reader, satosugu, itafushi, tomema, chosoyuki, mechamiwa, nobamaki, inuokko, shokohime, hainana, momomai.

check all ao3 tags and warnings! ★ check the pinterest board!

chapter one: a blinding glimpse

or the one you politely offered your heart to the king of curses in an attempt of mocking him.

chapter two: postpone

or the one you threatened to obliterate satoru gojo.

others: to be add!

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