#The Well - Book 1 Chapter 16 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonefall · 7 months

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⭕️Hey Bones! Is it ok if you explain and/or elaborate how Crowfeather is abusive to Breezepelt if please?⭕️

I do KNOW that crowfeather is indeed, abusive to Breezepelt, due to the fact that he emotionally and/or physically neglected him - with child neglect being known to BE a form of child abuse - and I also heard that he slashed and/or hit him within one of the books, which I believe is in the book Outcast, in chapter 16.

But I also wish people would talk and be informed about it more within the fandom, because in the parts of the fandom I’ve known portrayed Crowfeather’s neglect on Breezepelt as negative and bad, but not in a way that made me think and/or feel: “Wow, that’s pretty bad. That’s…actually abusive.” I suppose? So I hope more people will talk about it more in that type of way.

Also, please be aware that I have NOT read PoT, OoTS, etc. or barely any warrior cats books, since the majority of the information I got from the series is from the wiki and the fandom, so that probably explains why I didn’t know this part of Crowfeather’s character is as bad as it actually is until now. Also, feel free to talk about Crowfeather’s abuse on Breezepelt I haven’t mentioned and/or don’t know right now as well if you want.

I’m SO sorry that if this ask is unintentionally quite long, and feel free to make sure to take all the time you need to answer it. Thank you!

OH LET'S GOOOO

Breezepelt is both physically and emotionally abused by Crowfeather. I'm not talking about only child neglect; he is screamed at, belittled, and even once hit on-screen.

The fact that Crowfeather both neglected and abused him is very important to the canonical story of Breezepaw. There's actually a lot more to this character than people remember! Even from his first appearances he displays good qualities, a strained relationship with his father and adult clanmates, and is clearly shown to be troubled before we understand why.

As many problems as I have with the direction of Breezepelt's arc (especially Crowfeather's Trial), his setup is legitimately a praiseworthy bit of writing from Po3 which carries over into OotS. To say that Breezepelt was not abused is to completely miss two arcs worth of books SCREAMING it.

BIG POST. Glossary;

INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River

ABUSE: Outcast, Social Alienation, the Tribe Journey.

DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.

For "brevity," I'm not getting into anything post-OotS. I'm just showing that Breezepelt was abused, the narrative wants you to know that he was abused, and that his status as a victim of child abuse is CENTRAL to understanding why he is training in the Dark Forest.

INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River

Our very first introduction to Breeze is when Jaypaw walks off a cliff in the first book of Po3 and is rescued by a WindClan patrol. He's making snarky remarks, and Whitetail and Crowfeather are not happy about it. Whitetail snaps for Crow to teach his son some manners, and Crow growls for Breezepaw to be quiet.

But our proper introduction to him is at his announcement gathering, when Heatherpaw playfully introduces him as a friend,

From the offset something's not entirely right here between Breezepaw and his father. He's cut off by Heatherpaw here, but he's touchy whenever his father is involved, and we're not entirely sure why.

Throughout Book 1, he's just rude, with a notable xenophobic streak. He's a bit of a mean rival character for Lionpaw, as they're both interested in the affections of Heatherpaw and make bids to get her attention, but nothing particularly violent yet.

He participates in the beloved Kitty Olympics and gets buried in liquid dirt with Lionpaw, basically a rite of passage for any arc.

(And Nightcloud has a cute moment where she watches over them until they fall asleep)

As the books progress, the relationship between Crow and Breeze visibly deteriorates. They start from being simply tense with each other in The Sight, to the open shouting and hitting we see in Outcast.

In the very first chapter of Dark River, we learn where his behavioral issues are really coming from;

Crowfeather.

Breezepelt is getting xenophobia from his father. Occasionally he says something bigoted and his dad will agree and chime in, and those are the only positive moments they have together.

(Note: In contrast, Nightcloud explicitly pushes back against xenophobia, chiding Breezepelt for his rudeness to Lionpaw in back in The Sight, Chapter 21. The Sight is the book where a lot of "evidence" that the Evil Overbearing Woman is actually responsible for the rift between father and son but. No. She's not. Though she can be overprotective; Crow and Breeze have a bad relationship when she's not even around in Breeze's first appearance and even his Crowfeather's Trial Epiphany refutes it. Anyway this post isn't about Nightcloud.)

So he starts acting on his bigotry, accusing cats in other Clans of stealing, running really close to the border. What's interesting though, is that this is not entirely his doing. The first time we get physical trouble from Breezepaw, DUSTPELT aggressed it. Breezepaw and Harepaw were just chasing a squirrel and hadn't yet gone over the border at all.

We learn that WindClan is teaching its apprentices how to hunt in woodland, and tensions between the two Clans is starting to escalate as ThunderClan isn't entirely trusting of their intentions.

The second time, fighting breaks out over him and Harepaw actually crossing the border and catching a squirrel. WindClan is adamant that because it came from their land, it's their squirrel. So it's as if Breezepaw is modelling the aggression around him, learning how to behave from the older warriors and his father.

When he joins Heatherpaw and The Three to go find Gorsetail's kits in the tunnels, he's grouchy towards the ThunderClan cats, but very gentle with the kittens. Notably so. When Thistlekit is dangerously cold, he cuddles up next to her, and even assures Swallowkit when she's scared,

Through this entire excursion, he's the one in the comforting roles for the kittens. Breezepaw is the one who is taking time to tell the kits they'll be okay, that he'll protect them, and physically supporting them when they're weak, even when he's terrified.

And it's always contrasted to Heatherpaw who's way more 'disciplined,' as a side note. It's a detail I'm just fond of.

All this to point out,

Breezepelt displays his best qualities when he's away from the older warriors of WindClan, and he's at his worst whenever he's near Crowfeather. Even while he's essentially just a bully character for The Three to deal with. He's gruff but cooperative when it's just him and Heatherpaw interacting with The Three, but mean when there is an adult to please.

We're getting to the on-screen abuse now, but Po3 actually sets up Breezepaw's troubles and dynamics well before it's finally confirmed that he is a victim of child abuse.

ABUSE: Outcast, the Tribe Journey.

In Outcast, Breezepaw's problems have escalated into open aggression towards cats of other Clans, and is now a legitimate concern for his own safety. Yet, he's spoken over by older warriors, and reprimanded at nearly every opportunity, right in front of the warrior of another Clan.

Squilf just asked the poor kid how his training was going, and then Whitetail JUMPS to talk over him so she can complain, RIGHT in front of his face.

They can't even wait until they're alone to grumble something rude about Breezepaw, who is still just a teenager here;

They taught him already that a bit of prey that runs off their own territory still belongs to WindClan, encourage him to blow past borders in pursuit, and started a battle with ThunderClan over this. And then they're pissed off at him for being aggressive, thinking it's deserved to scold him in public.

When Onestar announces that he wants Breezepaw to go on the Tribe Journey, he's devastated by it...

Because he thinks WindClan doesn't like him, and he's right. He's gossiped about, torn into in front of a ThunderClan warrior, and even his own dad doesn't want to be around him. It's clear that Breezepaw's impulsive "codebreaking" behaviors are a desire to prove himself, and once you realize that, the way that he's being alienated is heartbreaking.

But Wait!! Hold on a minute! Where did he get a "patrol of apprentices" from to confront the dogs with, exactly?

Simple. Breezepaw CAN make friends! He actually values them a lot! So much that it's the first thing Crowfeather snaps at him over, out of frustration that his son is also being forced on this journey with him. It's an angry response to his child having emotional and physical needs, resentment that will continue all journey long.

Note that it's plural, friends. Breezepelt has multiple friends, at least one who is not Heatherpaw, and she promises to say goodbye to them.

Up next, they state over and over, Crowfeather and Breezepaw do not like each other. Crowfeather resents being around him and dealing with his rudeness, embarrassed and angry, and Breezepaw is absolutely miserable being sent on a journey to the mountains with a man who hates his guts.

The whole while, Crowfeather is brooding longingly about Feathertail, already thinking about her as soon as he kitty-kisses Nightcloud goodbye, his eyes looking somewhere distant. He makes a jab about loyalty when Breezepaw doesn't understand why they're helping the Tribe.

Breezepaw gets smacked after he's "shoved" at Purdy and acts rude to him, while the other three manage to be polite (while still having internal dialogue about how stinky he is).

Without so much as a, "cut that out," Crowfeather raises his paw and hits him. Breeze is quiet after that.

I don't give a shit how rude your teenager is being. Do not hit kids. Being throttled on the head is not okay.

In spite of the Three not liking Breezepaw, or even Crowfeather, they're constantly noting that their arguments are not normal, and that Crow is a cold, unsupportive father who digs into his kid constantly, and the only time he ever DOES "discipline" his child it's through immediately smacking him.

At one point, the apprentices get hungry, and decide to foolishly hunt in a barn that they know has dogs in it against Purdy's warnings. Once again, JUST like the first two books, Breezepaw is more friendly when Crowfeather is not around.

EVERY time he is alone with cats his own age, he's grumpy but cooperative. Even enthusiastic at times! The minute Crowfeather is in the picture, he's nasty.

Naturally, the dogs show up, but Purdy rescues them. Though Brambleclaw also chews his kids out (and i have strong opinions about bramble's parenting style for another time), Hollypaw is taken aback by the contrast of what a scolding from Brambleclaw looks like vs how Crowfeather reacts.

The narrative is desperately trying to tell you that the way Crowfeather treats his son is not normal.

And then Crowfeather is pissed off that Breezepaw is exhausted from running for his life from hungry dogs,

And he's constantly losing his shit whenever Breezepaw says something as innocuous as "dad im hungry"

Then, Breezepaw is made to watch his dad pine over the grave of a woman who died long before Crowfeather was even considering his mother for a mate. What he feels is jealousy, because he knows his own father doesn't love him anywhere near as much as he loves the memory of Feathertail.

This really goes on and on and on. The ENTIRE trip is like this, with Crowfeather treating Breezepelt poorly, giving him a smack before even verbally warning him, pushing him past his limits and blowing up on him when he asks simple questions about eating or resting.

It all comes to a head in this one exchange, towards the end. Hollypaw ends up snapping at Breezepaw for his rudeness, before having an epiphany.

It's explicit. Crowfeather's emotional abuse, his "scorn" for Breezepelt, is what is driving a wedge between him and all of his older Clanmates. Between EVERYONE in Breezepelt's life who wasn't already his friend. This awful treatment is only making him worse and worse.

Realizing this, she has more sympathy for him, but it's too late. He continues to be rude to her because he feels insulted, and her patience completely runs out. She's just a kid. They're both just kids. She's not responsible for fixing him when he's pushing everyone away at this point.

That's the end of Breezepelt in Outcast. It can't be helped anymore. Any spark of friendship they had together in the barn, or in the tunnels, is gone.

As the series progresses, Crowfeather continues to refuse any personal responsibility for the mistreatment of his son, even pinning all of Breezepelt's behavioral problems on Nightcloud. He is a cold, selfish father who only ever thinks about his own pain and reputation.

DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.

Everyone talks about the Attack on Poppyfrost, which happens in the first book of OotS, in oversimplified terms. YES he is going after a nun and a pregnant woman. I've never said that's not Bad.

But no one talks about "WHY", and that reason is NOT just that he desires power like so many other WC villains. Breezepelt makes his motivation very clear on the page.

Escalating to violence was about making Jayfeather feel the way that he does.

When Breezepelt says that he wants Jay to be surrounded by "lies, hatred, and things that should never have happened," he's talking about the way HE grew up, knowing his father never wanted him, and that his Clan HATES him as a result. Killing Poppyfrost is about trying to frame Jayfeather for her murder, so ThunderClan won't trust him anymore.

When Jayfeather points out the simple truth that what Breezepelt is saying doesn't make any goddamn sense, his hatred "falters." He's blaming his half-clan half-brother for his own treatment because of the reveal, but totally failed to consider that JAYFEATHER'S ALREADY GOING THROUGH IT... so his response is just this pitiful, "s-shut up, man."

Then the ghost of Brokenstar and Breezepelt bounce him back and forth between them like a beach ball for a bit until Honeyfern's spirit shows up.

Breezepelt's childhood abuse and social alienation was a hook that the Dark Forest latched onto, to reel him in. His anger at his half-brother is so obviously misplaced that its absurdity was something Jayfeather pointed out.

We soon learn that it's the Dark Forest who's planting that ridiculous idea in his head;

The narration is SCREAMING, "The Dark Forest is validating the anger he feels towards his father, and redirecting it towards The Three." He's described as 'kitlike,' Tigerstar's eyes are compared to a hypnotizing snake.

This prose could not make it more obvious if it drove to your house, beat you with it, and then spoon fed you the point while you were hospitalized.

At the end of this scene, Tigerstar sends Hawkfrost to recruit Ivypaw. This scene where Breezepelt is being lovebombed, and the command to start grooming Ivypaw, ARE LINKED. That was a choice.

A VERY GOOD choice! Again, as many issues as I have with OotS, its handling of indoctrination is unironically fantastic, and it owes a good amount of that to the outstanding setup of Breezepelt that was done back in Po3. And that setup doesn't work if Crowfeather was merely distant.

Breezepelt was abused by his father, both verbally and physically. It drove him to be more aggressive to prove himself, modeling the battle culture around him. The adults of WindClan judged him based off Crowfeather's responses, shunning and belittling the 'problem' teenager, which eventually drove Breezepelt to the only group that he felt "understood" him.

In a book series that is RIFE with abuse apologia, this is one of the few times that there's any behavioral consequences for abuse and the narrative holds the perpetrator accountable for it.

But people hear Crowfeather's deflective excuse in The Last Hope where he says he never hated him, blames Nightcloud for everything, and just lick it up uncritically.

Gee whiz, I wonder why the guy who never blames himself for any of his problems would suddenly say it was his ex-wife's fault. Real headscratcher!

(Crowfeather's Trial then goes onto, for all my own problems with it, also hold Crow accountable as the reason why Breezepelt turned out like he did. But that's a topic for another day.)

#This is headcanon territory here. But one day I realized I can read Breezy-P with BPD and he became a blorbo.#Never been able to unsee it and it massively endears him to me... Breeze Pelt Disorder...#I actually REALLY hate how his arc was resolved and strongly feel that he should have progressed into a bigger problem #But I equally strongly feel that being redeemed is the ideal ending for him #so if it was between him being pure evil/redemption death or the awful halting we got at the end of oots....#I'd pick the halting over him being pure evil or a redemption death.#I think BB made me REALLY fall in love with him. He's my sweet cheese. My good time boy.#Bones when he sees an angry black cat: ''i can fix you. first i must break you. but then i can fix you''#Like. what i dislike about where he went is that even if your anger issues came from abuse. you STILL are responsible for your actions #but in the end getting that Shitty Dad Approval fixes him. Not his own growth or self-reflection.#it feels like BREEZE gets his agency stripped away for HIS ABUSIVE DAD'S character arc #It retcons in a reason why Breezepelt is not still a problem and then he faded into the background.#while Crowfeather continues to get supporting roles and every now and then Breeze now looks at him fondly #BLECH.#Crowfeather #Breezepelt #Abuse #Child Abuse #Warrior Cats Analysis #And now you know anon!!

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tan1shere · 5 months

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Changes

Ellie williams x female reader !

A/n: ahhh new series alert ⚠️! Hope you guys enjoy part 1 I'll be working on part two over the next few days MUAH

Summary: Ellies the bad girl in the school but she takes a liking to the reader, everyone's worried but the reader somehow changes her for the better

Warnings: fluff, bad girl Ellie, not really anything flirting, swearing? This is set at college/uni so they're a bit older then 19? Mighttt have smut in future chapters !

Masterlist || pt 2 ! Pt 3 !

It was frightening being the new girl. You were shy, very shy. You didn't know at all how to make friends, wandering the halls with your books clutched to yourself. It was overwhelming with how many people there were, you just wanted to get to your last class then go to your second home. The library. You had been waiting all day to finish and head straight there. You had heard good things about the schools library. It was massive, full of so many books. Old and full of memories, it was ancient.

You just sat down in a chair for your last class of the day when some girls approached you. "Oi, dork." You look up from your book seeing a tall brunette with a few blue streaks in it. You await her words, wondering what she wanted. "You new here or something? I don't recognize you." You nod. "I am yeah." She looks down at your books. "Stella." You keep your gaze on her. "Oh- im-" She gets down to your level. "I don't care. You're in my seat." You look at where you were and giggle just a bit. "What are we 16?" You fucked up. She slams her hands down on the desk making you jolt back.

"Wrong. Answer." You widen your eyes, swallowing. "S-sorry." You stutter, going to get up when a hand gets placed on your shoulder. You turn your head to a tall copper haired girl. "Leave her be Stella." She stares coldly at her. Stella just smirks. "You haven't called me back Williams." You look at the girl beside you. "Yeah cuz I don't keep in contact with egotistical sluts like you." You almost gasp, shocked by her language. "Harshhh. No need to get bitchy." The girl chuckles. "Youre one to talk. Pestering someone so innocent. Just sitting there minding her own business." Stella looks at the girl like she's crazy. "And you're so different? You bug anyone and everyone." The girl pouts. "Sad it's not you? Is that burning your ego even more?" Stella rolls her eyes. "Whatever." She spits going to leave.

"You alright?" The girl asks. You nod, putting your hair behind your ears. "Thank you." She nods also. "I'm Ellie. You're new huh?" You nod again, not use to all these people conversing with you. "Well I'll see you round new girl." You watch as she walks to the back of the class to her seat, sitting by another man and woman. She intrigued you for some reason. You had no idea what it was but, you wanted to know.

You were happy, smiling and walking briskly to the library, ready to wind down from a day of classes. You open the old wood doors, they were tall, with carvings and designs. You step inside taking in everything, the smell, the quietness. It was your new happy place. You stride in going over to each section. You were just admiring it all for now but you were determined to find this book you've been meaning to read. As you browse you suddenly come across it, your smile widens, getting on your tip toes to reach it. "Curse being so short." You mutter to yourself.

"Need some help there, new girl?" You turn around to be faced with the copper haired girl yet again. "Oh uhm. Yeah actually." You laugh a little embarrassed. "Struggles of being short." She nods, reaching to grab it with ease. "Glad I was here to help then." She smiles giving it to you. "What're you doing in here?" You ask, not even knowing why you did, anyone could go in here. "Ouch, do I not look like the reading type?" You shake your head. "No no no I just-" She giggles. "I'm teasing you love. And I am a big reader actually." She looks at the book she gave you. "You're going to really enjoy that." You look at the book yourself. "I've been meaning to read it for so long." You admit.

"Well it's worth the read." She smiles. "So what's your name new girl?" You hug the book to your chest. "Y/n. But I- i don't mind the nickname you already give me." She smirks. "New girl? Alright then I shall call you that." It went silent. "So-" You then hear stomping, turning your head. "Ellie leave this poor girl alone." A dark haired woman comes by her. "I'm not even doing anything just casually speaking." Ellie replies. "We should get going anyway, come on." The woman begins to walk off. Ellie looks at you. "I'll see you around, again. New girl." You keep your gaze on her as she goes. Thinking about how most people view her, confused by it all.

Knocking on the door of your dorm, you had just found it. Watching as the door opens. "HI can I help you?" A girl is in sight, giving you a toothy smile. "Uhm im your new roommate." You give her a smile also. "Ahh, well come on in." She moves out the way inviting you in. "How come you didn't do this, this morning?" She genuinely asks. "I wanted to get straight into it, I decided to come back and unpack later." You look around at the cute little dorm room. "Well, all your stuff is in your room, make yourself comfy." She smiles at you, going into the kitchen. You return the smile, heading into your room. It was tiny but just the perfect fit for you. You begin to unpack setting everything out nicely and to how you like.

Once you're happy with how everything looks, you go out into the main area, seeing your roommate. "I'm Angela by the way, everyone just calls me Angie." You nod. "I'm Y/n." She nods. "Its nice to meet you. How has your first day been?" She pours herself a coffee. "Want a drink?" You shake your head. "I'm ok, thank you though. And it was good, classes were good. I got to see the library which was probably the highlight of my day." You smile, going to sit on the couch. "Its pretty cool isn't it." She smiles sipping on her coffee. "Hey, do you know someone called Ellie Williams?" She stares at you. "You don't wanna get involved with her, she's bad news." You furrow your brows. "Wait why?" You inquire. "She's a complete asshole. She will hurt you, and you're too sweet to be involved with someone as putrid as her."

You look at the couch in thought. Why was she such an asshole, she seemed really nice. "Can you tell me more?" You ask, looking at her. She strides over to the couch taking a seat next to you. "Ellie doesn't care about anyone but herself. She'd hurt you just to please herself." You ponder. "But she was nice to me-" She shakes her head. "Its all an act, don't fall for any of it ok?" You just nod. She gives you a reassuring smile. "Right well I'm going to start on some dinner, you in the mood for anything in particular?" She begins to go back into the kitchen. "I'm not fussy." "Awesome." She smiles.

Voices. You heard voices as you woke up, rubbing your eyes as you sit up. You put a brown robe on, peaking your head out the door to see. "No Williams. You're fucking creepy." You try to make out more of the conversation. "I'm not being creepy I was just wondering if she was here or if she had left already. Is that a crime?" Angie let's out a dry chuckle. "Yeah with you it is one. Leave her alone Ellie. Shes a sweet girl, she doesn't need your games." You hear the door shut. What did Ellie even want? You shake your head out of your thoughts, deciding to ignore it and get on with the day.

"New girl wait up!" You hear from behind you, fast footsteps coming closer. You turn your head. "Oh, hi." Ellie comes to a halt. "I've been looking for you all morning." You furrow your brows slightly. "Whys that?" You ask, still keeping your text books close. "I wanted to show you another book that you might be interested in." She starts to walk with you to your first class. "We can go to the library later and check it out." You nod, but suddenly think about why everyone is not fond of her when she's so nice to you. "What's it about?" "Just like the one you had yesterday but a different style and author. I think you'll like it." You nod, coming to your class. "Well I'll see you later, Ellie." She smirks. "See you, new girl."

It was on your mind all day, could you really trust this mysterious woman. You had only met her, and from what you had heard it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. You were walking down to the library as it was now the end of the day, you were planning to study a little bit in there also. Going in you spot Ellie immediately, she gives you a smile signaling to come over to her. She was sitting in one of the maroon colored chairs. "Hey." You say setting your stuff down and joining her in one of the chairs. "Have a good day?" She inquires. You nod. "Yeah it wasn't too bad. Yours?" She nods also. You look at her hands, at the book she held. "Right yes, the thing you've been waiting all day for." You sit up a bit, looking at her. "Give the one you got yesterday a read first then read this one, and let me know what you think about it."

She hands it to you, you give her a smile taking in her words. "Thank you for this." She leans back and smiles. "You're welcome angel." She looks at all your other books. "You going to study?" You nod. "Yeah just some history stuff I'm going to work on." You bring out all your supplies, stuffing the book she gave you in your shoulder bag. "Want some company?" You look at her. "Sure, company can't hurt." You smile still at one another. "I'll just be doing my own stuff." You watch as she gets out her own book, you look at it further. "Are you studying too? What subject." She looks at you. "Meh no just personal pleasure." You look more at it, it was a sketch book. "You draw?" She gets the last of her supplies. She nods at your question. "Yeah I do, guess that's another thing you didn't peg me to do huh?" You laugh a little bit. "I didn't, no. How long have you done it for?" She fully looks at you now.

"Since I was young." You look at the book again. "Can i see some of your work?" She nods, opening it up and giving it to you. You examine them, flipping the pages, she was incredible. "These are amazing." You continue to flick through, coming across some colorful ones. You admire them. "You like that one?" She noticed how you looked at it. "Its so beautiful the color, is this done with paints?" You trace your finger over it lightly. "It is yeah, you like paintings?" You look at her fully. "I actually paint myself." She sits back in the chair again. "Well what do you know. Learning new things about you every second new girl." She smirks at you intrigued. "Well, Ellie what about you." She leans forward. "What do you mean by that." You contemplate on whether or not you should ask.

"Why are you so nice to me. You don't even know me." You state. "Well, that's a good question, and I know exactly why you've asked it. Don't listen to them I may not be perfect but I'm not a monster. You interested me. No one here's, ever interested me like you have, so I took liberty into getting to know you." That's it, why do people hate her so much. Which brings you to your next question. "Why do people not like you." She let's out a tiny laugh. "You're very interested too huh. I'm not a sweet angel. I don't follow by anyone's expectations, or rules. I make some not so great choices, but I dont really care most of the time." You listen to everything. "But why me, im so ordinary." She looks at you, deeply this time. "Not to me. I see something in you, I'm drawn to it."

You look at her shoes, something you always did, it always told you about the person. She had worn out converses on. "I want to get to know you more." She grabs your hand, making you look at her. You look into her eyes as she does so. "I want to get to know you too." She smiles, letting go of your hand and sitting back in the chair. "What do you paint?" She asks, but looking at her sketch book. "Nothing special I just normally work with water colors and some paints, I just do whatever is on my mind, it may not make sense to others but I envision it and just, do." She looks up listening. "I admire that. I might have to check some of your work out sometime." You smile and nod. "Yeah I'm sure that could be arranged." You wanted to continue studying but you couldn't help but get distracted by her.

She was without a doubt beautiful she had a messy half way mullet looking haircut. Green eyes like emeralds. Light freckles coating her face, as she concentrates. Her grungy clothing, hanging baggy over her body. You were so mesmerized by this woman, so far she's made you feel so, real. "What're you drawing?" She doesn't respond right away. Still looking at her paper, but she looks up at you. Keeping silent and looking back at the paper. You look at her with confusion. "Ellie?" She continues to sketch whatever it was she was scribbling at. But once she was done she looks at you, flashing a smirk. She moves, keeping the book to her but ripping one of the pages out and handing it to you upside down. "See you tomorrow new girl. You'll have to give me a tour of your paint work, I'll hold you to it." She smiles as she goes to leave. You watch but then you look at your lap, at the drawing. It was of you. You smile to yourself, looking at every detail. You keep looking, spotting a note in the corner. 'Meet me at my dorm ####, tomorrow morning -E' you keep smiling to yourself. This was just the beginning.

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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mystargirl-interlude · 7 months

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𝑩𝑶𝑹𝑵 𝑻𝑶 𝑫𝑰𝑬

chapter 1 in the 𝑩𝑰𝑹𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑨 𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 book

When you are born in one of the districts in panem you are born to die, wether or not you are reaped or not.

if you aren't reaped you live in poverty and starve to death unless you're in a capitol district and if you are reaped and some how win the games the suffering never ends.

13 year old persephone sat one of the multiple rows at her second reaping, somehow making it through her first despite her name being in the bowl eight times due to her being caught multiple times trespassing, but now at 13 and her name being doubled in the bowl now at 16 pieces of paper.

"Hello! Hello! welcome to the 66th annual hunger games!" Says the district four escort who's name persephone couldn't care to remember

tuning out the screeching of her voice and deciding to take a look at her surroundings and everyone around her, she makes eye contact with last years winner, Finnick odair. She wouldn't deny that he was unbelievably attractive, but then she remembered she was being sent to get killed while he watched.

I hope i at least look good while being brutally murdered since the whole country was going to be watching she thought.

when she snapped out of her thoughts she saw that finnick and her were most definitely still in deep eye contact, he gave her a challenging look almost expecting her to look away first but she sent that look back 10 times harder, making him furrow his brows and quickly look away just in time as the movie about the history of the games ended

"well! let's get started with this years tributes, as always ladies first" she said as she dug her hand into the bowl

persephone wouldn't be surprised if the half the bowl was just her name

"and this years tribute representing district four is" she says unraveling the paper

"Persephone Levito!" it almost felt as the whole room went quite as the young girl was well known throughout the district for singing by the beach and her outfits, but before persephone it was her grandmother, she was well known and well loved and when she passed it took a toll on everyone in 4

Not surprised she rolls her eyes before remembering her act she needed to put on

eyes watering she slowly walks up to the stage wrapping her arms around ber self slightly shaking

she imagines she looks like one of those gross old chihuahuas her neighbor has

"hello dear, and how old might you be?"

"thirteen" she shakily exhales

"Lovely! and now on to our male tribute!" she smiles like she didn't just send a child off to her death

"and the male tribute representing district four is.. Christopher Monroe!"

if it was possible the day just got twenty times worse.

persephone knew christopher and she fucking hated his guts, they went to school together and he was the most annoying, obnoxious, disgusting specimen she's ever had to be around.

"These are our 66th Hunger games district four tributes! you may now shake hands!" she says

as they grasp hands she grip as hard as she can without breaking his hand while still maintaining her good girl façade

he pulls away as soon as possible and then they are pulled into the back to head to the train, all tributes are allowed five minutes to say goodbye to loved ones but persephone couldn't give two shits about her family as they never cared for her.

immediately heading to the train she walks inside and sees multiple blue velvet couches and a rectangle dinner table, deciding to pass time she looks around being nosy, as it was what she was best at.

about 6 minutes later everyone starts coming in including what she assumes are going to be her mentors and the escort who's name she learned was Anya

"Well hello, lovely's, please meet your mentors for your games, Mags flanagan and Finnick Odair"

persephone felt a switch flip in her, it was almost like a different person, the persona she had to put on to even attempt to make it past the bloodbath.

looking up from her empty plate she gives them both a small smile

"Please introduce yourselves guys" anya says smiling with a slight aggressive tone almost like they are embarrassing her when persephone never even met her let alone know her name until 2 minutes ago

"Christopher Monroe, Big fan of yours finnick" the boy spoke with a sickening tone of confidence

finnick gave him a awkward smile almost like he was embarrassed for him and he then looks to persephone

"Persephone Levito" she says with a shaky voice

"Yeah i know who you are, i would see you at the beach when i was younger" finnick says in the softest tone trying to comfort the clearly scared young girl but at the same time he feels as if there's something off about her

christopher looks over at them rolling his eyes in annoyance at the girl.

finnick and christopher make small talk while persephone puts an awkwardly small portion of food on her plate sampling each thing on the table and then sections them off into perfectly even sections

finnick can see what she's doing out of the corner of his eye and he furrows his brows taking a glance at the girl before cutting christopher off of his ramble that he was barley listening to

"Let's talk strength and weakness, chris would you like to go first?" finnick asked

smiling cockily he starts listing off his strengths while persephone struggles to not roll her eyes at the boy.

tucking her legs under her oversized white button up she listens to every word chris says despite hating his guts she had to know what she was going up against.

and him being the fucking dumbass he is he starts listing off every weakness he has but something that did make her start thinking was when he said that he had to get surgery on a tendon he had in his knee as he tore it when he was younger and immediately after he said that he said it was hard to use his dominate hand so he wanted to get better using his left because he broke a bone in his right and it was harder to use now

"what about you persephone?" finnick asked her

"yeah what about you" chris says smirking like he didn't just make the biggest mistake ever by him practically telling his whole fucking life story when all finnick asked for was strength and weaknesses

but who is she to talk, for all she knows chris could kill her the moment the game starts

"Um - i don't know, i guess i'm good with tying knots" she says with an embarrassed smile resting her chin on her knees forcing herself to not stab chris in the eye when she hears him scoff at her

"it's okay, that's what me and mags are here for, we are going to try our best to help you survive"

he says placing his hand on mags' shoulder

to be honest persephone forgot mags was even there with how quiet she was but she was cut off from her thoughts by the voice of anya

"I think it's best we all get some rest so that we are ready for tomorrows parade!" she says

persephone is the first to get up and leave the table.

walking to the room that anya had showed her earlier she looks in from the door way and then looks over her shoulder to see finnick looking at her, the look she gives him before waking into her room has him in deep thought, like she knew something he didn't. he's never been more confused by anyone in his whole life let alone and girl who was a year younger than him.

★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★ ✰ ★

The day after the parade was the first day of training.

walking into the training room with a few of the other tributes by her side she looks around at all the the different stations.

deciding to walk over to the knife throwing station she already knows she's going to have to embarrass her self in order to not seem like a threat.

persephone does a bit of each station before looking at what the other tributes are doing, of course she sees chris with the careers at the archery station.

keeping an eye on each one to see what skills their best at.

when she was younger, her grandmother would train her every day until the day she died to make sure if she ever got reaped she would be prepared, she's learned her way around the different weapons.

Day two goes by smoothly besides the fact that the careers and their groupie which unfortunately was her district partner were making fun of her the entire time.

Waiting for her name to be called for individual sessions she starts thinking about stories her grandma would tell her before bed and the disappearance of the 10th hunger games victor

"Persephone Levito"

snapping out of her thoughts she walks into the room taking a look at the different supplies laid out, making her way to the spears she grabs three and stands a few feet away from the targets.

she lazily throws each of the spears cringing as she misses each each target, she finishes her session as soon as possible due to the unbearable embarrassment she was feeling despite the fact that she was doing it on purpose.

sitting in a large room with chris, finnick and mags in front of a large TV awaiting their scores.

Ceaser begins listing off the tributes and their scores and then gets to district 4 "District four! Christopher Monroe with a score of, 8!" finnick and mags both congratulate him as he cockily smirks

"Persephone Levito with a score of 3!" with a thin lipped smile she looks over at finnick who gives her a look of pity.

The last of the days have been a blur especially with the interviews.

her last day at the capital has been pretty shitty and even more with the fact that everyone is treating her like a toddler, she's had a few more conversations with finnick but just briefly, and mostly just him telling her how to survive out there.

standing in a small metal room with her stylist who she's grown quite fond of

"what can you tell me about the arena?"

"it seems like it's going to be a constant change, you may be looking at forest mountains based on the shoes, weather may go from cold to humid because you have removable layers."

60 seconds

"good luck persephone, i know what you're doing i strongly believe i'll see you after the games"

her stylist stella tells her in a shaky whisper

"i'll see you later" persephone smirks before walking into the clear tube

Being lifted up into the arena she can already feel the cold breeze, looking around she sees fog, thicker in certain areas thinner in others, not bothering to see the other tributes next to her, her eyes narrow to the cornucopia, eyes landing on a belt with multiple daggers and knives and a back pack.

She realized she probably made the biggest mistake of her life by not making any allies

fuck

ladies and gentlemen let the 66th hunger games begin.

as soon as she heard the gong go off she ran as fast as she possibly could, her legs practically going numb she runs into the cornucopia grabbing the belt and then going for the back pack but a force pulling her back has her heart skip a beat, not even bothering to see who it is she grabs a small dagger stabbing it into their pulse point, blood spraying all over her, her eyes dart around landing on a career coming straight for her.

Grabbing a another knife she throws it landing directly in between his eyebrows knocking him down but she then feels her airways being cutoff by someone putting her in a head lock, kicking her legs up and pushing off from the metal wall they both fall down, having to think quickly she grabs a longer knife from her belt she stabs it in the tributes gut she drags it up all the way to just below the sternum of the girl who she recognized was from district two, hearing ber ear piercing screams felt like she was about to go deaf but they soon stopped once her eyes rolled back in her head.

Looking up persephone sees that everyone has left the cornucopia and she sees chris and the tributes from 1 and the boy from 2 running into the forest.

collecting her knives and grabbing anything else she finds to be helpful she makes her way towards the foggy woods opposite of the way the others went.

after what felt like a few hours of walking she comes across the end of a rocky hill which leads to a water stream. her blonde locks look like they have been dyed red and brown.

walking down the hill she goes straight for the water immediately dipping her hands in the wash off all the caked on blood and then collects some of the water in a water bottle she found in a back pack she stole from one of the tributes.

mentor viewing room

finnick has been in staring off into space ever since the bloodbath ended

the once scared blonde that barley spoke two words was now covered head to toe in blood that wasn't hers

he didn't know how to feel, proud? scared?

he settled on proud for now and just decided to see where it would go.

arena

a day has passed and so have four more people at the hands of persephone, she's washed her skin off a few times in the river but some sections were still stained red.

the day was pretty boring as nothing had happened but she was woken up in the middle of the night to harsh whispers and leaves rustling.

"she's asleep we can just kill her now, it's easier if she doesn't put up a fight" she heard a feminine voice say

"okay fine, do you wanna do the honors?" she heard a male voice say, she can practically hear the smirk in it

tightening her grip on her knife she shoots up immediately stabbing the male in the esophagus hearing the canon go off she then hears his partner scream, persephone slaps her hand over the girls mouth and then proceeds to stab her straight it the tit where she knows it hurts and then continues once she's on the floor. when she's done the girl at least has 7 stab wounds on her.

gathering her stuff the starts making her way in the opposite direction as the scream most likely drew attention.

Another day goes by and many more dead, sometimes done by others, most of the time done by persephone.

With almost everyone dead all that's left is chris and the one of the careers.

after waking around for a few hours she hears two people arguing. Climbing up the nearest tree as fast as she can she gets as high as possible and looks down at the last two standing. Fucking dumbasses, they aren't even aware of their surroundings.

Deciding to have some fun messing with them as it was once again night time and they couldn't see her. Throwing a stick on the floor next to them and them being the dogs they are they run straight to it giving her enough time to climb down the tree as quietly as possible.

"HELLO? YOU CAN COME OUT WE DONT BITE" chris yelled as they both laughed and for once in the games the whole arena got quiet, no birds, no crickets, just the sound of heavy breathing

"psst!" the girl from one turned around frantically ready to fight but that was soon ended as a gut wrenching scream was let out.

persephone stabbed her repeatedly in her torso, the clouds now moving past the moon letting the moonlight shine through which let her see a lot better.

Chris jumped on top of persephone pulling her off of the girl she just murdered, putting his hands on her neck once again having her airways cut off for like the fifth time, having to react quick she knees him as hard as she can between his legs which knocks him off of her.

she swears they have been having a wrestling match for what feels like forever. frantically looking around

to see if she can find anything that would kill him her eyes land on a sword that the other girl had persephone tried to reach for it but unfortunately for her chris also had his eyes on it and immediately pulled her back which led to her literally face planting on the dirt, he begins choking her again

"jesus- fuck why does everyone go for the- neck" she says in between wheezes. she remembers when he was talking to finnick how he said his weak spot was his right arm, despite the fact that both her arms had multiple gashes and stab wounds she builds up as much strength and punched her hand into his elbow dislocating it which makes the most disgusting pop noise that makes her gag

"you dumb fucking bitch, you broke my arm!" chris says practically spitting him her face. rolling him off of her she grabs knife that was still lodged in the girl from 1 she stabs him on his side but he didn't go down without a fight, he threw persephone off him him and stood up, now fighting standing up she continues to stab him wherever she can get her knife through but he still has a tight grip on her, at this point she doesn't even know how he's alive, there's blood pouring out of his mouth and she's sure she hit every major organ

"why.... won't- you.. die. FUCKING HELL ARE YOU IMMORTAL OR SOMETHING?" she says between gasps with one swift slit to the neck the cannon finally goes off.

there's a moment of silence before the announcer comes on

"ladies in gentlemen, your victor from the sixty sixth hunger games! persephone levito!!!" she hears the voice say

"FUCK" where the last words she remembers saying before passing out.. face planting the dirt.. again.

hi queens so this was like the introduction to my new child persephone and how she became a victor, there wasn't much finnick but there is definitely going to be a lot more in the next chapter, the next one is going to be briefly of the 74th games but just for her mentoring purposes but it's mainly just gonna be other stuff, anyway!

WC: 3168

#finnick odair fanfic #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #sam claflin #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #josh hutcherson #katniss everdeen #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair smut

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 2 months

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 20

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 3.5K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Two Years Later

Indianapolis in the summer was hot and humid. You tugged at the cotton of your shirt, pulling the material away from your wet, sticky body. All you wanted right now was to lie on your couch, your feet propped up, enjoying the air conditioning and an iced coffee. But coffee was limited to you these days and decaf just didn’t bring the same joy. What was the point? And no matter what anyone said, it did not taste the same.

The bookstore was packed with people, the air conditioner not doing much amidst the radiating body heat of the crowd, books cradled in their arms, waiting to meet the author. Mike sat at a table in the center, smiling up at a customer as he signed the copy of his latest book, Paladin of the Dead Kingdom, a sequel to his debut novel which had raced up the charts to number one on the New York Times bestseller list, shocking everyone but probably him mostly.

Releasing a long slow breath, you pressed your hand against the base of your back in an attempt to soothe the ache that had settled low in your spine. Rolling your shoulders, you moved forward, continuing to browse the selection of books on the shelf in front of you. With as much time as you'd been spending with your feet up every night, you'd been getting a lot of reading done. A few new additions to your quickly dwindling pile would be good.

Your fingers trailed over the spines as you read, waiting for something to catch your eye, the sun shining in the window hitting the diamond on your left hand with a shimmering sparkle. A soft smile crossed your lips as you flashed back to last year, you and Steve under a trellis of flowers that the girls had put together in your backyard.

It had been a small ceremony, held on the anniversary of the day you had met each other the previous year. Your closest family and friends had gathered around as you vowed to love each other until death parted you. A slight twinge of panic had raced up your spine at those words but you had pushed it down, refusing to believe that life could be that cruel twice. No. You had been lucky enough to find him and you would be allowed to keep him. You had to believe that.

Everything with the two of you had moved pretty fast. You'd bought your house, with the wraparound porch you’d always dreamed of and the pool in the backyard that you couldn’t get the boys out of during the summer, only a few months after meeting. Steve had proposed two months after that. Seven months later you were married. From first sighting to wedding rings in the span of a year but you wouldn’t change a single thing. It didn’t matter how quickly it moved when you were certain you’d found the one that was meant for you.

“Mike is eating all this attention up,” El groaned, approaching with little Max on her hip. He’d just turned one last week and you could not get enough of his full little cheeks, dimples appearing as he grinned widely at you, drool slipping out of his mouth as he chewed at the teether El was trying to soothe him with. “But I’m so proud of him. He never thought his book would go anywhere, let alone be an instant bestseller.”

“Yeah. Well, there’s a lot of nerds in the world,” Dustin said, stepping up and holding out his arms. Baby Max leapt right into them. “The nerds far outnumber the non-nerds and he wrote something that appealed to every single one of them. Didn’t he, Max?” He grinned, bouncing his hip, Max giggling. “That’s right. Daddy did good. Huh, Max?”

“While I appreciate you naming your child after me,” Max interrupted, leaning against the side of the bookcase. “It is highly creepy to hear Dustin say my name in that baby voice.”

“Oh, Auntie Max is such a downer, isn’t she? She’s as grouchy as Oscar. We just need to find her a trash can,” Dustin cooed. “Come on little Max. I saw some cookies on the table in the back. Let’s get you one.”

“Dustin, not too much sugar, please,” El called but he was already gone and she sighed, tossing her hands in the air. “He’s going to let him have way too many cookies, isn’t he?”

“Oh yeah,” you grinned. “Not to mention punch. There’s fruit punch back there and cupcakes. Max will be all sugared up.”

“Great. At least the hotel has a pool. He can swim it out before bed.”

Robin and June walked up, hand in hand, and you smiled. Sometime within the last year, Robin has stopped being so self conscious about being affectionate with her girlfriend in public. She’d stopped worrying about what other people thought or what their reaction would be. She just let herself be happy. Even better, the two hadn’t encountered too much ignorance, choosing to ignore the side eyes or wrinkled noses. If anyone had anything to say, you would be more than happy to put them in their place.

Robin had moved out of her apartment when the lease was up last August and moved in with June. The two were now running the coffee shop together. Business was booming with all of Robin’s ideas. They had things going on every single night and the town was eager to come in, not only for the coffee and sandwiches anymore, but for all the extras. People waited anxiously to hear what the next read was for book club or to see the sign advertising what new musician would be playing. Local artists and poets signed up on a waiting list that was six months long to be able to come in and feature their work.

“This is one hell of a turnout,” June commented, eyes wide as she took in the crowd packed into the bookstore.

“Isn’t it amazing? It really means a lot to Mike that you all came to support him,” El told them with a smile.

“Of course we did,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy walking up. “Plus, it gave us a nice little getaway. We’re all going to take the boys to the Indianapolis Zoo tomorrow and to a baseball game on Sunday. They can’t wait. Jere is so excited to see his first professional game.”

Nancy laughed, “Well, the guys are going to take the boys to the baseball game. Y/N and I have appointments at the spa.”

You smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply, “You have no idea how much I am looking forward to that. My feet could use some serious pampering right now.”

“Everything could use some pampering right about now,” Nancy said, waving her hand up and down to indicate your whole body. “Why do you think Steve booked it?”

Every time you thought Steve couldn’t get anymore perfect, he managed to prove you wrong, to do something to surprise you. When talk of this trip to support Mike’s book release came up, he’d instantly suggested you should turn it into a little vacation for all of you. You were all for the idea, excited to show him the Indianapolis Zoo that you’d enjoyed so much five years ago when Justin had brought you. You fully intended on replacing your broken coffee mug on this trip.

Then last week, he dropped a brochure on your lap. It was for a spa in the city. He’d booked you the Ultimate Package. It included a massage, a facial, manicure, pedicure, a hair wash, and style. You’d argued with him, telling him it was too much, but he’d insisted. Then he’d tempted you even more by telling you that Nancy was going with you.

You and Nancy had grown exceptionally close over the last couple of years. The woman you’d been so terrified of had turned out to be one of the most exceptional people you’d ever met. She’d welcomed you into their little family from the moment she’d met you and she had supported you and Steve every step of the way. Janice had been your maid of honor but Nancy had stood right next to her, a beautiful bridesmaid, her eyes shining with tears of joy as you and Steve had promised to love one another forever.

The bell above the door rang lightly, barely heard over the chatter of conversation within the four walls. Eli and Jeremiah came racing in, darting straight for their moms, red faced, shiny with sweat, and beaming from ear to ear.

“We pet a dog!” Eli yelled. “He was so big, mommy, like way bigger than me. Even bigger than Miles!”

Steve trailed behind them, clearly out of breath from trying to keep up with the boys. He stopped in front of you, hands on his hips, chest rising and falling deeply.

“Great Dane,” he muttered.

He’d offered to take the boys for a walk to get them out of everybody’s hair for a minute. They had been bursting with energy and sitting or standing nicely in the bookshop was not cutting it at the moment. You had been nervous they were going to cause a commotion if they didn’t get out of there for a bit.

“And we went to a playground!” Jeremiah added. “You should have seen it! It had everything and the monkey bars were so high but I did them anyway! I wasn’t even scared!”

“Yeah! And they had this swing that two people could sit on! It was like a circle and we sat on it and Daddy pushed us and we went so high!” Eli yelled.

“Wow, that’s incredible,” Jonathan replied, leaning down, hands on his knees. “How about we go get you both a cookie and some punch and you can pick out a book and sit and rest for a bit. I bet you could use some rest after all that excitement.”

“I sure could,” grumbled Steve, but his smile didn’t match his tone. The man might grumble and moan but he loved those boys with everything he had. And nothing made him happier than spending time with them.

“Aww,” you cooed, running your fingers through his hair, damp at the base of his neck from the heat and exertion, “did the boys wear you out, baby?”

“A bit,” he nodded. “They never stop, those two. They just have endless energy. I wish I could bottle up a fraction of it. It’s hard keeping up with them.”

“Well, you better get to training then,” Nancy teased, her eyes dropping to your stomach and then back up to Steve. “You’ve only got a couple months to get ready for an all new one. You think they’re exhausting now, do you remember Jeremiah at one and two and three?”

Yes, Eli was getting the sibling that you had always hoped for him to have but hadn’t expected to happen. After you were married, you had stopped birth control, the two of you deciding that if it happened, it happened. You weren’t stressing it. You would be content either way but when you realized in February that your period was a month late and that stick had shown two pink lines, you'd both been elated.

The idea of a little person that was a mixture of the two of you, a living, breathing testament to the love you shared, filled you both with more joy than you'd expected. It felt like a symbol of not only your relationship, but the blending of your two families into one. Beautiful splashes of color that collided to create the most beautiful piece of art. Because there was no doubt in your mind that this baby would be beautiful, especially if she got her dad’s lashes and that head of full, thick hair.

“Have you guys finally picked out a name?” questioned Robin for what had to be the twentieth time. “You know, I keep telling you that Robin is a pretty great name.”

“I would offer up Max but that’s already taken,” the red head shrugged. “Not that you couldn’t also name your child after me. I mean, I am obviously the coolest one here.”

El laughed, “While I agree, it would be very challenging to have two little ones running around with the same name. It’s already hard with you and my son.”

“Besides, Robin is the obvious choice,” Robin cut in.

“Why is Robin the obvious choice? Why not June?” her girlfriend asked. “I think it’s a very pretty name.”

“It’s a beautiful name for the most beautiful girl,” Robin said, “but I have been friends with Steve for fourteen years.”

“Well, if we’re going by the longest time knowing someone, then I should win,” Nancy argued. “I’ve known Steve for sixteen years and I am the mother of his other child. I think that gives me bonus points. Maybe the baby should be called Nancy.”

“I don’t know that Jere would want his little sister to be named the same thing as his mom,” Steve mused.

“Why not? Guys name their kids after themselves all the time.”

“While that is true,” you began, cutting off the conversation, “we have already settled on a name. She will be Peyton Robin Harrington.”

“Ohh!” El’s eyes went wide, her hands clasped to her chest. “I love Peyton. That’s such a cute name.”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t lend itself to any weird nicknames,” Steve said, his arms coming around you, hands covering your round belly. “That was one of my biggest concerns. I didn’t want to pick anything that could be turned into something awful.”

“Like Pey?” offered Lucas, earning a glare from Steve.

“Oh! Peyday!” Max grinned.

“Or PeyPey,” teased Robin.

Nancy snorted, “How about Ton? Come here little Ton!”

“You all suck,” Steve snapped, rolling his eyes. “None of you will be calling my beautiful little girl any of those awful names.”

“I don’t know,” you joked. “Peyday has a certain ring to it.”

“Don’t you start, too,” groaned Steve.

“Oh! Or Peycheck!”

“Honey, seriously…”

“Peyroll! No! I got it. Peypaya.”

Steve’s hands rested on his hips, his face so unamused that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You guys are so funny. Leave my daughter alone.”

“Hey,” you protested, winding your arms around his waist, feeling him melt against you, his hands leaving his hips to come around you. “She’s my daughter too.”

“So stop trying to start off her life by traumatizing her. She’ll never live down a name like Peypaya.”

“While I think Robin should have been her first name, I guess I am willing to accept the middle name,” the blond huffed, folding her arms and rolling her eyes. “I guess it’s still a little recognition of how neither of you could function without me.”

“We really couldn’t,” you agreed. “I mean, who would keep this one in line for me?” You nodded your head toward Steve and he snorted, shaking his head.

“Seriously. This dingus thought doing the whole baby room without you as a surprise while you were visiting your parents would be a good idea.”

“Hey! I thought it would be nice for her to come home to a finished nursery. I was just trying to save my wife from extra work.”

“Yeah and then she wouldn’t have had a say in any of it. She would have smiled and thanked you and secretly hated it every single time she walked into the room and it wasn’t what she’d envisioned,” Max told him. “Robin was right. You cannot do home renovations without your wife’s opinion.”

“I asked Janice for input. She knows her better than anyone.”

It was true. Janice knew exactly what you would want. The sage green nursery, photos of zoo animals that your friend had taken for you adorning the walls, soft pastel orange bedding and pillows, cuddly stuffed animals propped throughout. It was perfect and Janice would have guided Steve to do exactly that.

The two of you had been ecstatic when you'd found out that you were having a girl. Janice’s daughter, Olive, was only eighteen months so the girls would be close in age. Both of you hoped your girls would be just as inseparable as their moms were, a built in life-long friend.

Max relented, “Okay. I mean, asking her best friend was a solid plan. If anyone would know what she wanted, it was her.”

“Exactly and what she told me is exactly what my wife wanted anyway. I could have done it and then she wouldn’t have had to stress.”

“Either way, the nursery is perfect. The boys had the best time helping us get everything ready. They even each picked out an animal for the room. Eli wanted an elephant because it starts with ‘e’ and Jeremiah went with giraffe because it has the same sound as his name, even if the letters are different. His words, not mine.” You laughed, remembering how excited the boys had been running through the baby store, helping you pick out things for the room.

“They were a little bummed that we didn’t go with a superhero theme,” Steve added.

“Well, of course,” chuckled Lucas. “What little girl wouldn’t want Batman and Superman?”

Max shrugged, “I mean, you could have gone with Catwoman and Wonder Woman. That would have been pretty kickass.”

Mike stumbled over into their aisle, looking exhausted but happy, a wide smile stretching his face. He leaned down to kiss El and then dropped down to the floor dramatically in front of the bookshelf.

“My hand is going to wither and fall off,” he groaned, shaking his fingers. “I don’t even know how many books I signed.”

“Oh please. You love it,” Lucas told him.

Mike grinned, “I do. I never thought this would actually be me. I mean, nothing Mike Wheeler, kid who was picked on by the assholes all through school, now a bestselling author. People actually line up just to meet me and get me to slap my signature on something I wrote. It’s insane, man, but so damn cool.”

“Dada!”

Little Max came racing over, Dustin rushing behind him, clearly having lost control of the situation. The little guy flung himself into Mike’s open arms and the guy who’d looked terrified at the thought of being a father, scooped him up, kissing the top of his hair that was the shade of midnight, just like his dad’s.

“Hey buddy.”

Max held up the cookie he currently had in his hand, the whole thing a mushy wet mess from where he’d been gnawing at it. He tried to put it in Mike’s mouth and he grimaced, shaking his head.

“No thank you. That’s Max’s cookie. You eat it, buddy.”

“And how many cookies is that, Dustin?” inquired El, the girl already having the mom look down, currently giving it to Dustin.

The boy shrugged, curls spilling out from under his ballcap, “I don’t know. Not too many…I mean…” He ran his hand over his mouth, mumbling, “Four.”

“Four! Did you say four?” El groaned, her head dropping back. “Dustin, seriously. I am going to make you deal with him when he’s running up and down the hallways of the hotel and refusing to go to sleep.”

“Okay. I don’t mind hanging out with the little dude.”

El’s eyes rolled up into her head as the adult Max patted her shoulder gently.

“Well, while he’s had four cookies, I’ve had nothing for the last three hours and I am starving,” Mike announced, one arm around his son as he rose up to his feet. “What do you all say we head out and get some dinner?”

“You buying?” asked Nancy.

“Yeah, with that big advance, you can afford it, right?” Lucas agreed.

Robin placed an arm on his shoulder, grinning, “Mr. Big Bucks over here these days.”

“Oh! If Mike’s buying, I am getting all the drinks,” June said.

“And dessert,” Max added. “Maybe we should order every dessert on the menu. You know, so we can taste everything.”

“Don’t forget appetizers,” Will stated.

Nolan nodded, “Yeah. I love to taste test things at other restaurants. Give me ideas for new recipes. I bet we could manage to order one of everything on the menu, for research, you know?”

“You guys are jerks,” Mike huffed.

“What, with that fancy Range Rover you drive now, I assumed you must have lots of expendable cash,” Jonathan said as he and the boys joined them.

“I mean, I’m doing okay,” Mike shrugged, his ears turning bright red. “I wouldn’t say I’m rolling in cash but I can buy dinner.”

They all whooped and cheered, heading out of the bookshop and onto the streets of Indy.

“But not one of everything on the menu!” he yelled after them.

“What?” Robin bellowed. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

“Yeah!” Lucas yelled. “Too busy imagining all the food I’m going to eat!”

Steve rolled his eyes at the group, his arm coming around your shoulder as you trailed behind everybody. His mouth dropped to your ear, lips brushing over the tender skin as he whispered, “Regretting getting mixed up with this crew? Rethinking your choices?”

“Never,” you said, and you meant it, because this guy right here and everyone that came along with him were the best choice you’d ever made. Two years ago you’d said you would never find something this amazing again. But never say never.

Taglist: @katethetank@roxiehorrorshow@sapphire4082@bakugouswh0r3@frostandflamesfanfic @mix-matchsocks @mushy-mushroom04 @palmtreesx3 @littlebookworm86 @eddies-trailer-babe @cheesewritings @emilyj444 @daisyhollyxox @angelbabyivy @the-fairy-anon @loritate7311 @k-k0129 @antiquecultist

And this brings this story to an end. Endings are always bittersweet for me. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️

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choicesficwriterscreations · 15 days

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June Creator of the Month: Thosehallowedhalls

Please welcome this month’s Creator of the Month is @thosehallowedhalls.

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists. The writer or artist is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I can't remember exactly. 2021, I think? Laws of Attraction was on its tenth chapter.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined in January of this year. I was upset with Crimes of Passion 2, so I wrote a couple of stories about it. I had deactivated my old Tumblr long ago, so I had to open a new one.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

I love old buildings - the history, the ambiance. I tried hallowedhalls, but it was taken, so I added the article.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

I… have zero recollection of this post. But I'm big on nostalgia and mourning past times, so the fact that this was my first post tracks.

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. I've been teaching myself to draw, but I'm not anywhere near close to sharing what I do.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I started writing fanfiction way back in… 2010? For about four or five years. Then I stopped until December 2023.

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Crimes of Passion on both counts.

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

That would be The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm, inspired by The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I do still like it, but I would tighten up the writing a bit. I had barely written any fiction for several years at that point, and the lack of practice shows.

9- What is your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

I keep going back and forth between The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm and Home Without. Both are angsty short series.

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

I was taken aback by the comments on The 2 AM Christmas Tree Farm. I'd posted it on AO3 a few weeks before, and had gotten a handful of kudos and one comment, but within 24 hours of posting it here, I had several lovely reblogs. It was a welcome surprise. Stories with fewer comments… I guess Home Without. The first chapter got quite a bit of love, but by the time the final chapter rolled around, fewer people were interacting.

11- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

I love a balance, but I'd say angst with a happy ending. I enjoy the breadth of emotions angst lets you explore.

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are bits and pieces of me in all of them. Emma has my sarcasm, and Raine has my need to look for the best in people. There may be more, but if so, it wasn't done intentionally.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Perfectionism. Like I said before, the lack of writing practice shows. I know that the only way to get better is to keep writing, but I hate seeing the gap between what I do and what I want to do. Catch-22.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

My Sebastyan x Emma fic, Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies. There are only a couple of chapters left, but I've been struggling with it for a couple of months now.

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Oh, hell no.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

So many writers have influenced my writing throughout the years, including authors I do not currently read. The Brontë sisters, Charles Dickens, Nora Roberts, Jane Austen, Courtney Milan, Alyssa Cole… I could go on and on. Fanfic writers… There are a lot, but off the top of my head, @inlocusmads, @coffeewithcutcaffeine, @gaiuskamilah, @aria-ashryver, @jerzwriter, @dutifullynuttywitch, @aces-and-angels, @petalouda85, and @storyofmychoices. I know there are more.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

Home Without. I'm a sucker for good pining, and I'd love to see all that mutual longing play out onscreen - not to mention that reunion.

18- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I do. I'm currently working on a horror short story, a MG novel, and a dual timeline mystery that's still in the research stages.

19- What other hobbies do you have?

Reading, non-fandom writing, drawing, learning new things (especially languages!), going on walks, and drinking enough coffee to alarm medical professionals anywhere.

#cfwc creator of the month #creator of the month #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices fic writers creations #thosehallowedhalls

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kraken17 · 2 months

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List of dimensional variants/counterparts of Enid and Wednesday introduced in my fanfiction Kooky Spooky in order of appearance.

This means that other characters that are counterparts such as Taylor Galpin, the Yoko and Weems from Agent A's dimension and the rest of the Adamos (High Fantasy Addams Family) are not on this list. Only Enids and Weds.

(Artwork from Kris6758 on Twitter)

First, those with some weight in the plot:

Eamon Sinclair (Chapter 1): Initially named in Chapter 1, with no formal appearance until Chapter 43. Eamon is a male counterpart of Enid and husband of Friday (the Wednesday from the 1973 cartoon). Basically, he is "our" Enid if she had been born male. Standard lycanthrope, though exceptionally strong.

Thursday (Chapter 9): Wednesday Thursday Addams. As Eamon, a male counterpart to Wednesday and Friday's cell neighbor. He looks identical to a teenage Gomez but with no mustache and with Fester's pallor.

Enid Saint-Clair (Chapter 19): The Enid of Woe's dimension (the Wednesday of the '90s movies). Brunette, of Greek descent and werecat rather than werewolf. Affable and nice, though with psychopathic tendencies and a love for exacerbated violence. Loves to fight people who can keep up with her. To call her "kitten" is to invite death. Better just call her “Nid”.

Agent A (Chapter 22): Wednesday Tuesday Addams. The Wednesday from a dimension gone to hell (literally). She's a grown woman in her forties, dresses like she's a MIB and is a practitioner of magic. She's also one of the few Wednesdays who doesn't make use of her pigtails or pull her hair back in any way, leaving her hair loose. If you want to put a face on her, I imagine her as Hailee Steinfeld about 16 years from now.

Wodnesdæg (Chapter 35): Lord Wodnesdæg of the House of Adamo, Prince of the Kingdom of Nova Gersia. Wod to his closest family and friends. Trans male version of Wednesday. He collects his hair in two short but thick pigtails. Likes to wear black armor that makes him look like the stereotypical Dark Lord from a fantasy novel, but first impressions aside his personality is closer to that of a Gomez Addams.

Eneit Synklar (Chapter 35): Enid's variant from Wodnesdæg's dimension and his betrothed. A barbarian and werewolf princess Enid, extremely tall and muscular, usually dressed in furs or light leather armor. Very outgoing, affable and friendly, though she lacks a bit of tact and has no qualms about breaking in half anyone who messes with her loved ones.

[UPDATE] The Bright One: SPOILERS! Read the fic 😁

Now, the ones that are more cameos:

Chapter 43:

A golden tyrannosaurus Enid and her ape-like sidekick Wednesday, inspired by the original comic book versions of Devil Dinosaur and Moon Boy.

A middle-aged futuristic soldier Enid.

A Wednesday who looks like a living marble statue with golden cracks adorning her skin and luminous white hair.

A Wednesday and Enid who look like stereotypical pirates.

Gargoyle Enid. A purple-skinned Enid with horns, tail and wings, inspired by the characters from the Disney series Gargoyles.

Chapter 45:

Cyborg-lycanthrope Enid.

Vampire Wednesday, armed with a spear.

Reverse Enid and Wednesday: A violent lycanthropic but black-furred Enid accompanied by a disturbingly extroverted blonde Wednesday.

The younglings: A group of five or six young Wednesdays, the oldest no older than seven.

Saiyan Enid: A brunette-haired martial artist Enid with ki abilities, orange robes, staff and monkey tail. Inspired by Dragon Ball, although it can be interpreted as a reference to Journey to the West as well.

Gunslinger Enid and Wednesday, as if out of a classic Hollywood Western.

Sasquatch Enid.

The witches: Two Enids, one of them in school uniform and wand-wielding, clearly inspired by the Potterverse novels/films or other similar works. The second Enid, with green skin and black clothes, pointy hat and broom is more inspired by The Wizard of Oz and Wicked.

Punk-looking Enid with cybernetic implants like blades in her arms. Inspired by Cyberpunk 2077.

Angelic Enid, alternates between a humanoid form with wings and a fire-wheel form with multiple eyes.

Hellboy Wednesday (Hellgirl?).

[UPDATE] Chapter 50:

A witch-like Enid with a talking cat familiar.

#wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #wenclair fic #wenclair fanfic #wenid #eniday #the addams family #multiverse #fanfiction #altogether ooky #kooky spooky #multiversal variants #interdimensional counterparts #archive of our own #a03 fic #ao3 link #wednesday netflix #wednesday

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thatbanditqueen · 17 days

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Louisiana Saturday Night, a new fic.....

I have been working on a new WIP set at the Louisiana Hayride from 1954 - 1956, and will probably post chapter one in the next few days. It starts in October 1954, when 19 year-old Elvis had never played outside the small clubs of Memphis, except for that once. At the Opry. And that didn't go too well.

Now he faces his biggest audience ever at the Lousiana Hay Ride: over three thousand people in-person (a thousand more than the Opry!) and millions over the radio. He has only recorded two singles, never been away from home much or gone beyond second base with a girl, and doesn't know much about life as a touring musician. But he's eager to learn and grab every opportunity he can with those long, inexperienced slender fingers.

This fic will have my usual blend of poorly executed dry humor, fluff, smut and angst.

please comment or reblog if you want to be tagged - here is a preview.

Here is a snippet from Chapter 1: Hot Wax

Approximately 9:15 p.m.

Saturday, October 16, 1954

The Municipal Auditorium in Shreveport, Louisiana

The first time she saw Elvis up close he was hunched over the sink tapping his fingers along the porcelain rim. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, he reminded Freddie of a bottle rocket about to blow. She smiled at the thought of him bursting through the ceiling like a comic book hero, his oversized sports coat trailing behind him like a long pink cape.

She wasn’t sure if he was recovering from his first set or talking himself into the second, but what she did know was that this kid was as green as they came. Horace had been reading Pappy the riot act yesterday when she walked by his office, yelling at him for booking “some hillbilly who just fell off the turnip truck, cuz Sam Philips brings you a bottle of Jack every time he comes through town.” The audience out there had been so taken aback by his country bop they’d forgotten to clap, and she doubted Pappy would be allowed to invite him back.

As she watched the show up in the control booth, Freddie had wondered if Elvis’ performance had gone over better with the radio listeners who hadn’t had to watch his stilted, awkward movements on stage. There was a ragged emotional tenor to his voice, and now that she was standing right in front of him she had to admit he had a dark, sultry allure that was strikingly different from all these other boys doing their best Gene Autry impression.

But geez, now the poor kid began to mutter into his reflection and she hoped he wouldn’t cry. Freddie barely knew how to deal with the girls she found balling in the bathroom.

“Um, hey there. You ok?”

Elvis jerked around and ran his hand through his sopping wet hair and straightened up, stiff like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Most folks are nervous their first time. That’s a big crowd.”

“Don’t you worry about me, honey, I ain’t nervous.” He looked her over, a sneer forming at his mouth. “Didn’t you heard the man? I’m the hottest thing on wax. Mr. Logan just asked me to play a second set.”

“Oh - uh - well, I guess I was wrong.”

“MMhmmm. Just getting geared up to go back on stage.” He settled his hands at his waist and shot her a sulky fierce glower, then waggled his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Oh, well that's good. Maybe you can answer something for me then.”

“Anything baby.”

He softened and bit his lip, giving her what she took to be his version of a come hither look. He looked like he was fighting back a sneeze and Freddie had to swallow her laughter.

“Why are you in the Ladies’ Powder Room?”

Elvis paused and looked down for a beat as he shook his head and laughed.

She nodded toward the shelf of perfume bottles, powders and the basket of dainty pink sanitary napkin boxes with Kotex printed along the sides.

He let out a low whistle and rubbed his mouth.

“Man o man, I guess you got me, might be jus a lil nervous. I ‘spose I really weren’t watching were I was going, huh?”

Freddie couldn’t help the way she dumbly smiled back, noticing up close how long and thick his eyelashes were as he looked down at her through them. She suddenly had the urge to take his hand and lead him to the green room where she could make him a hot cup of tea and comfort him and give him all the advice she had from her four years of working at KWKH. But instead she took a deep breath and fidgeted with her cardigan.

“I won't tell anyone you were in here. It can be our secret."

other fic taglist - i won't tag you again on this unless you comment you want to be tagged:

@whositmcwhatsit

@from-memphis-with-love

@vintageshanny

@shakerattlescroll

@peskybedtime

@be-my-ally

@ellie-24

@missmaywemeetagain

@powerofelvis

@arrolyn1114

@lookingforrainbows

@eliseinmemphis

@kingdomforapony

@everythingelvispresley

@richardslady121

@dkayfixates

@artlover8992

@freudianslumber

@amydarcimarie

@toreigh

@18lkpeters

@yynneessmons

@ashtag6887

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@returntopresley

@rjmartin11

@louisejoy86

@notstefaniepresley

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@j-v-9-2

@beeandheroddobsessions

@doll-elvis

@burningloverdoll

@ohjustpeachy1

@everythingelvispresley

@velvetelvis

@horror-movieshoes

@ooihcnoiwlerh

@moonchild-daniella

@lialocklear

@obsessionisthecure

@tacozebra051

@elvispresleywife

@bisexualwvtson

@father-of-2cats

@lillypink

@godlypresley

@crash-and-cure

@misspresley

@daffieapple

@louisejoy86

@burningloverdoll

@stargirllily19

@amydarcimarie

@elvisrealgf

@littlehoneyposts

@eapep

@stylespresleyhearted

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #ok not right away but there will be smut #the louisiana hayride #louisiana saturday night #1954 elvis #baby elvis #banditqueenwrites

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ohmotherwhereartthou-if · 1 year

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Oh Mother, Where Art Thou?

"Oh Mother Where Art Thou?", Or OMWAT for short.

Is an interactive piece of fiction where your choices and decisions will ultimately change and decide the outcome of the story; as well as the fates of those in it.

This story takes place in a semi-realistic fantasy world. Where the places and history of this world is mirrored to our own in very subtle ways.

Featuring:

A customizable character with a section of gender, appearance, personal attraction and personality.

Twisting secrets and truths.

Finding culture for yourself between one of 2 well developed countries, or neither.

A heartfelt story about finding family and knowing when to let go.

Choices in forging friendships and/or rivalries.

Decide the fates of several characters.

Explore a world inspired by Spanish and Italian language, histories and cultures.

Find your preferred profession, acquire unique skills and traits.

Select and develop you fighting style with a selection of weapons.

Learn different forms of magic or opt out of magic altogether.

3 RO's per country (6 in total) for book 1; with ranging backgrounds, personalities and tastes.

The greatest travel guide of all time. A humble traveling partner who will help you through your journey

WIP Demo:

Prologue (Act 1-3) & Chapter 1 (Act 1) [40k Words] - Link Updated (5-16-24)

Ask's Masterlist

I am 100% good with any kind of asks, please just make sure you check the masterlist before you submit an ask to see if I have answered the question already. I try to be very on it about updating the masterlist and properly tagging content.

As always, let me know if something doesn't link to the right place and never be afraid to ask me something if you see that I haven't answered it before. 💙

Links:

Masterlist: Link Google Feedback Form: Link Choice of Games Form Page: Link

The World: Link

The Countries: Link

Story Overview: Link

Fanart Submissions: Link

Noteworthy Characters: Link

Romantic Options (RO's): Link

RO's Appearances (w/Pictures): Link

Author's Notes (Please Read): Link

Limited Time!

100 Follower gift! Link Closed

200 Follower gift! Link Closed

----------------

Content Warning:

Please be advised that this will be an 18+ story due to the following:

Classism

Mommy Issues

Religious themes

Described violence

Semi-minimal gore

Abandonment Issues

Reoccurring discussions of political ideologies

Homophobia (it isn't explicit and can be toggled to be ignored but will still be present for story reasons)

Misgendering for gn MC's (A gn-mc will be very unique and have a lot of variations in their story, but they will still be misgendered quite a bit by the citizens of an historical inspired like world due to a lack of understanding)

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wardenparker · 5 months

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Vampire Waltz - ch 16

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* A bit of dirty flirting, some talk about labor pain/injuries and childbirth, lots of fluff. There's a lot going on in this chapter but not much in the way of warnings. Summary: Returning to Newport from New York, Max cooks up a surprise for you before you prepare to return to the future. Not everything will go according to plan, though. Notes: We are almost at the end, folx! I have loved every second of this crazy journey, and this little family will be particularly hard to say goodbye to. As always, please excuse any errors I missed do to sleepiness. This week enjoy a lovely Eddie gif 🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15

In the days following the Astor’s Beechwood ball, you find yourself once again in your old familiar haunts. While Annie flits about in the first throes of wedding planning — the engagement announcement was overwhelming and quite the spectacle — Emmanuel seems to be even more doting and ever present. Max and Yayo have had their heads bent over mysterious vampiric business since your return — you swear you heard them talk about building something but they’re so quiet you can’t be sure — and with no nearby friends to call on you or duties to oversee, you’re just enjoying being settled. The morning room, comforting and familiar, with your tea tray and book are a lovely and sunny place to be while the whole rest of the household buzzes by.

“There’s my darling.” Max sails into the room with a broad, proud smile on his face.

“You look as if you’re up to something,” you assess, although you immediately shift over on the window seat to make room for him.

“I’m always up to something.” He admits with zero shame. His smile turns into a grin and he leans in to press his lips to yours eagerly. “How are you feeling? Are you up for a little trip?”

“How little is little?” Whatever it is, you’re going to say yes. But you still want to know what he has up his sleeve.

“Probably about thirty minutes?” Max asks, rolling his eyes at how slow the horses will take him and you where he wants to go.

You hum, pretending to consider it, but give yourself away with a grin when you lean forward to kiss his nose. “Do I need to change? There are so many damn rules for what I’m supposed to wear and keeping track is a menace. Thank the gods for Renee.”

“No.” Max shakes his head. The higher hem of your day dress would be perfect. “Although I would change into your boots.” He cautions.

“Hmmm.” Squinting at him in suspicion, you steal one more kiss before shifting forward on the bench. “Alright, I’ll go change my shoes and get a hat and gloves.”

“Perfect.” He smirks. “I’ll have the carriage brought around.” He promises and quickly bounces out of the room happily.

By the time you come down again everything is ready to whisk you away, and even Yayo waves from the library as you pass through the great hall. “I’m very suspicious and very curious,” you tell Max once you’re bundled up beside him in the carriage and the horses start to move.

Max chuckles and flicks the reins. In true nineteenth century fashion, he has learned to drive a horse and buggy as well as ride. The horses that your grandfather have being bred by vampires so they don’t shy away from the predators.

“Just us? No staff?” You had expected one of the covered carriages, not the stylish little open-air phaeton that is essentially a 19th century sports car.

“Just us.” He throws you a grin and leers. “Why, are you afraid to be alone with me?”

“No.” Always honest with him, you cuddle up to his side and throw him a dirty smirk. “But I might fuck you in the back of the phaeton if it’s not too cold wherever we’re going.”

He chuckles. “Maybe that was my plan all along?” He teases and glances back at the road as you make your way back down the row of styles bungalows and mansions.

“Good plan.” You snort, laughing along with him. “Solid. I like it.”

“I thought so.” He beams cockily and slips the lap blanket more securely over your legs.

“Did you have a good day so far?” He’s spent so much time with Yayo since you got back from New York that you’ve basically only since him at meals and in your room.

“Very good.” Max smiles an elusive smile, one that promises that he has a secret. “So good that I want to celebrate with you.”

“Well I know you didn’t find us a way home, since that’s my job.” In fact, you have another magic lesson with your abuela tomorrow after breakfast. It’s how you’ve been passing your mornings since getting back from New York.

“Maybe I did….in a way.” He chuckles and once the homes have given way to trees, he turns down a wagon path.

“You’re being extremely Yayo-like.” The similarities in your grandfather’s flare for the dramatic and your soulmate’s is just funny at this point, and definitely a point for teasing him with. Having Max for Yayo’s protege makes perfect sense.

“I will take that as the compliment it’s meant to be.” He pretends to huff, but the grin on his face gives him away.

Driving a little bit further down the road to wherever, you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you hum softly and look back at him. “I was going to save it for tonight,” you tell him with a satisfied little smile. “But I finally got fire lighting down pat with abuela this morning. I can light anything from a candle wick to a fireplace consistently.”

“That’s great!” Max smiles at you, proud of your accomplishment. He knows how hard you’ve been working to control your magic.

“It’s not exactly groundbreaking, but I’m working on it.” You’ve found that your problem isn’t power. You have an enormous amount of power at your literal fingertips now that your magic has been released. Consistency is your issue. Getting reliable and consistent results is the only way to get you back to the future safely.

“Sweetheart, if anyone can do it, it will be you. You have the most determination of anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“You see the best in me.” It’s humbling, the faith he has, but also massively encouraging. Half the time you feel like teasing him about finding a cheerleading uniform but you know it would turn dirty. “And I love you, too.”

“I see the you that you are. Max insists, transferring the reins to one hand so he can pick yours up to kiss the back of it. “Just like how you see me.”

“I like how mushy you are in the 1880s,” you tease, knowing he would be mushy and romantic no matter what era you’re in together.

Max scoffs and rolls his eyes, happy that he’s not fed recently so he can’t blush. “Hush.”

“Nope.” The grin on your face says everything, and you throw him one of the winks he loves to aim at you before turning back to watch the world roll by around you.

It doesn’t take too long to come to a clearing and Max pulls the phaeton to a stop. The coast is right beyond the clearing with its own rocky cliff. “Here it is.”

“Here what is?” Glancing up at him, you bite your lip but raise one amused eyebrow. “Did you seriously bring me out here for nature sex? Because I’m okay with that but I think it’s funny that I guessed.”

Max snorts but shakes his head. “No.” He smirks at you. “But you might want to fuck me after you find out what this place is.”

“So tell me what it is, then.” Something itches at you to get out and explore, but you’re not really sure what there even is to explore. A half an hour in the phaeton has put you outside of the immediate neighborhood of the Bellevue Avenue “cottages” and further up on Ocean Avenue at the very corner of the island. The view of the ocean is brilliant here, sun shining off the water and enough of a hill to put you on top of a breathtaking little cliff-face.

“This….” Max pauses for dramatic effect. “Is the land where that gorgeous little gothic mansion sits back in our time.” He reminds you of the present day home. It was never opened to visitors and privately owned although no one ever knew quite who owns it. “Our future or past, home.”

“Wait…” Your attention snaps back to him and your eyes widen in recognition. “Seacliff? The one that looks like a little gothic revival castle?” You had affectionately called it Seacliff Dollhouse when you first saw it, and Allison had giggled, telling Max and Eddie about it when you came home that night. “That’s…it’s our house?”

“That’s our house, sweetheart.” Max nods. “Your grandfather and I decided that if you can harness this time travel spell, then it would be fitting that we have a place to land when we return.” He explains. “The architect finished the plans today.”

"That's what you've been up to?" Tears well up behind your eyes almost instantly, blinking at him in utter disbelief. "Max, I—" You swallow a hiccup, finding yourself completely speechless and then instantly rambling through sniffles a moment later. "Baby, that's amazing! I swear I'm going to work so, so hard to master it and you're going to be so damn proud and have no one to brag to about it."

Max reaches out and cups your cheek. “I’ll brag to myself.” He promises. “When your grandfather showed me the land and he already has it, I just knew that we had built that house.”

"You're absolutely wonderful." Pressing in to kiss him, the urge to explore makes complete sense to you — it feels like the land is calling to you on a basic and magical level. "No wonder they worked so hard to convince my parents to train me as a witch when I was little." You hum, tucking into his side to look around you. "Yayo knew so much about us already. But there are some things that even he can't know about the future."

“Your grandfather knew, but he regrets pushing so hard.” He murmurs quietly. Your grandfather in this time has been more open after learning about the connection.

“At least things can get better.” You squeeze his arm gently. “And my offer to help you reconnect with your family still stands, love. Whether it’s future or past, that’s up to you.”

Max sighs softly and shakes his head. “No.” He murmurs quietly. “I don’t think they would want that. I’ve ignored people my entire life, I won’t ignore their wishes.”

"You can always change your mind." A kiss on his cheek is the end of the conversation for now, and you nod to the small, cliffside acreage in front of you. "So do you want to tell me about the design for the house? Since I've only ever seen the inside?"

"Gothic." Max grins and winks at you. "Gilded Gothic."

"You're going to keep this under your hat until we get back, aren't you?" It's yet more of his flair for the dramatic, and you can't help but smile.

"Claw foot tubs, a reading nook off the library that will have you cozied up every day." Max ticks off some of the highlights.

"At least one room big enough for us to dance in?" You ask, batting your eyelashes hopefully.

"The ballroom will open up onto the balcony overlooking the ocean." He smirks. "I wanted to be able to sweep you out there during a dance."

"Honey." That hopeful expression melts into awe all over again. Sometimes he really just does astound you with how sweet he is in that big, romantic heart that no longer beats. "We're going to throw the best parties," you decide, humming with excitement.

"Of course we are." He promises, looking out over the land and imagining what it will look like in the future. "We will need to make sure we live up to your grandmother's reputation."

"Abuela's reputation and Lina's expectations," you chuckle at the thought. "I have a feeling if I was a disappointing hostess she would sense it through time and show up to correct me."

Max snorts again and nods. "I know she would." He chuckles. "She would follow you around, clicking her tongue and tsking."

"And no one wants to have Mrs. Astor following them around tsking." It's a beautiful piece of land with the ocean stretching out all around you, and conjuring the image of the house in your mind lifts such a wistful sigh out of you that you feel a little sheepish. "I do like it here," you admit after a pause. "But I'll be glad to go back to our own time, too."

"I know." He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. "I even miss Eddie if you can believe it."

"I do believe that," you huff, rolling your eyes at him. "Pretend all you like, but he is your best friend."

He huffs, acting offended, but he doesn't actually refute you're comment. He can't. Not when he's spent so much time with Eddie over the past few years, he's come to like the perpetually youthful vampire. More than a little, he looks at him like the little brother he should have had. "Whatever."

"Mmhmm." You practically cackle at the way his face twists, hugging his side all over again. "That's what I thought."

"Anywaaaaaaaay." He rolls his eyes. "Do you like this place?"

"I absolutely love it." Shifting beside him, you pull off the blanket that's been covering your laps and grab his hand. "Come on. Let's walk around."

He hops down from the Phaeton and quickly lifts you out of the buggy so you can walk around. "The architect has set the stakes in the grass. We can walk out our house."

"I always wondered how big the house actually is." You've only ever driven past it, turning the corner of Ocean Ave with Max or Allison or the other girls from the coven as you wondered aloud who owned the house or who had built it way back when. Now that you know the answer, it makes the guesses that much more fun.

"Anything you don't like can be changed." He assured you hastily, wondering if you might feel left out of the decision. It's technically a gift from your grandfather, but Max had helped him plan.

"Tell me what you have planned." There's no doubt in your mind that it will be perfect, but you know that he's proud of his surprise and you want to hear it right from him, not from looking at a set of blueprints. Max's excitement always makes your heart skip a beat in the very best way. "I'm sure it's perfect. I just want to get excited with you."

"Surprise, surprise...." Max grins at you. "The kitchen is not in the basement." He whispers, feigning horror. "It's beautifully lined with windows that open to cool it down from the ocean."

"Let me guess?" Waggling your eyebrows a little as he starts to lead you around the border of the house, you shoot him a grin. "Yayo and Abuela's special enchanted glass?" It had been explained to you that the windows at Chateau-sur-Mer were treated with a coating to prevent the vampires living there from being too affected by the sun. Abuela, however, went more in depth with the explanation once you had come back in time. Apparently the coating was something she had created herself, to protect her soulmate.

"Of course." He nods, your grandfather having insisted on the glass being installed in the new home. "He said that it would last through the ages. Another positive is that little boys can't throw balls through the window."

"And if I know your sons, they will absolutely try." Any rambunctious little boys with his dimple and your hair and all of that pent-up mischievous energy are bound to get up to trouble, and it's sweet to imagine now — well before you'll actually have to deal with any of the fallout from it. After all, they'll also be more than half vampire by blood, so who knows what other chaos they'll get up to.

"Before we...go home." Max starts quietly. "I want you to talk to your abuela about what its like." He tells you. "She is the first human to give birth to a vampire's child. Her insight into this is the best you can ask for."

"I will." It's pretty much the most reasonable request in the world, if you're honest, and you wouldn't deny him something so logical. Especially when he's right. Your abuela's insight will be invaluable. "But baby...even if it doesn't ever happen for us. That's okay. There are a whole lot of ways to be a family. It doesn't have to include biological children. After all...there's never been another family like ours before in the history of the world. We can't know how likely it is. Or isn't."

"No...." That's true and it's a bittersweet fact for Max. He laces his fingers with you and pulls you to a stop in the middle of the clearing of what will become a gorgeous little mansion. "But I want you to know what I had imagined when I was human. When I though of 'forever' with my soulmate."

“Okay.” This is obviously a point of some not inconsiderable pain for him, and even though you wish you could just reach into his heart and wipe it away, it’s part of him. It’s part of who he is and you wouldn’t change a single thing about who he is. “Tell me everything.”

"I was an asshole." He can admit it, it was the truth. "I was a playboy and a little wild. Loose as Mrs. Astor would say." He chuckles. "But I believed in my soulmate. So much. I knew that when I found her, you, I was going to do everything I could to make her happy." He rolls his eyes. "I had it all planned out. I would be the hardworking provider and you would be free to do whatever you wanted. Stay home with our four beautiful kids, pursue whatever career you wanted, but I was going to give you everything you ever wanted."

It must be a particular sting then, to his masculine pride, that your incoming and your home — two homes — both come from your family and your inheritance. But it isn't as though you ever planned for that. Or waved it in his face. "You take amazing care of me, love." After all, hasn't he been the one encouraging you to embrace your freedom and to pursue the things you love? Financial freedom may have come from elsewhere, but Max has brought you emotional freedom.

"But up until just a few months ago, I was under the assumption that I could never give my soulmate a family." He reminds you, squeezing your hand tightly. "I know that it's a long shot, or might not happen, but if it can, I want it. I want to be the parent I never had. The support and love that I always wished for." He smiles softly at you. "The kind of life you had growing up."

"Alriiiight..." Your hands travel up and down his arms when you step closer to him, letting his hands slip around your waist so that you can be that much closer to him. "But four kids is gonna be a lot louder than my house growing up," you tell him, a grin sliding across your lips. "I hope Seacliff has five bedrooms in that plan of yours."

"Six." He winks at you with a sly grin. "One for company."

"Planning ahead, I see." It makes your grin split, giggles spilling over one more time. "We'll keep trying," you promise him, hands soothing over the warm fabric of the jacket he doesn't need to be wearing. "If we're lucky enough to have kids, they'll know their magic and their bloodline. If we end up adopting kids through time, we'll make sure the house is always full of life and laughter. Always."

"As long as you are happy." Max worries about that secretly. Always hoping that it will be enough. "That is all that matters."

"I am." You promise him without hesitation. "And you're so much of what's made me happy. It wouldn't be complete without you, love."

"I'm hoping that you mean that." He knows you believe that, so he shoots you a wink and guides you over to large, staked out area. "This is your library."

"I get a library?" He knows you far too well. It's obvious. And although a library is standard in Gilded age mansions, they were usually for men to use and you hadn't even considered that this new house of yours would have one.

"Where else would your reading nook go?" He asks with an indulgent grin. "With windows perfect for a little bat to fly in and out of."

"Best soulmate in the whole world," you giggle madly, burying yourself in hugging him, overwhelmed with excitement about this next step forward with him. "Does my library with its reading nook have a desk for my soulmate to do business at, or did you design yourself a study?"

"There is a decidedly masculine writing desk." He smirks and shakes his head. "No study for me to disappear into, sweetheart. That will be your spell room."

"With abuela Cookie's grimoire and a copy of Lina Astor's right next to each other." Looking up at him, you prop your chin on his chest and grin. "I've decided what deities I'm going to keep on my altar from now on."

"Which ones, sweetheart?" Max has been learning about your religion, but he doesn't have it all down yet. Plenty of years to learn though.

"I thought I would keep the statues of Hades and Persephone that abuela has up." Your hands pause their continual, soothing journey on his arms and you give his shoulders a squeeze. "Sexy and misunderstood representation of living death alongside the goddess of spring? It...kind of reminds me of us..."

He tilts his head curiously. "How so?" He asks, wanting you to explain it.

"Sexy undead guy," you explain, unable to holding in a grin as you point to him. "And girl who really like flowers. And also the sexy undead guy," you laugh, pointing to yourself in turn.

He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Of course." he chuckles. "I'm sexy and you know it."

“Yes I do.” In the chilly October air, you push up on the toes of your boots to kiss him. “I really hope you know how much you mean to me.”

"Maybe you can show me over the next few millennia?" He poses.

“Without a doubt.” You hum, beaming at him and never intending to stop for even half a second.

"Good." He leans in to kiss you again and then turns your attention back to the property. "Now let me show you the ballroom."

“I can’t believe how much you got done.” It’s only been a few days and the notion that an entire house could be designed in that time seems crazy. “Yayo has a vampire architect, doesn’t he?”

"Of course he does." Max snorts. "Apparently he's the best around and your grandfather changed him in order to make sure that the house he wanted for Cookie was completed before your mother was born."

"Of fucking course he did." You practically groan out a laugh as Max steers you toward the area that will be the back of the house. "Of course my grandfather turned the greatest American architect of the mid-1800s." There was very distinctly a conversation with Mrs. Taylor after you had come to Newport about the man who designed and spearheaded the building of the house. And you definitely remember her singing his praises above and beyond normal admiration.

Max chuckles with you and sends you a sly smirk. "I've met him and you aren't going to believe it...but I think he's Frank Loyd Wright. Or he becomes Frank Loyd Wright."

"Are you telling me our house is going to get built during Frank Lloyd Wright's goth phase?" For some reason that just tickles you endlessly, making you burst out into more giggles and hold Max's hand tighter.

"Apparently." He pulls you close in the center of what will be the ballroom and starts to hum a little tune, starting to sway to the rhythm. "And here is where we waltz."

"Our very own ballroom." As perfectly fitted to his arms as the first night you danced together, following his steps is easy and fluid, giving you the feeling of taking a deep and relieving breath.

"Our very own ballroom." He hums, grinning at the idea. "I want to put a design on the floor, haven't figured out what."

"Do you have any ideas?" There has been some beautiful woodwork in the houses you've been inside recently, and you wonder if any of those had given him ideas.

"I was thinking about a symbol. Maybe a protective one for you." He murmurs, blowing a kiss at you.

"Then we had better ask abuela. Mom said she has a lot of experience with runes and things like that." Since the spellbinding was lifted from you in New York, your memory has resettled itself. There were things that were embedded in you — false memories and gnarled half-truths to keep your mind from remembering its magic — that have lifted from your thoughts like a curtain allowing sunrise to shine through. Since then, you've remembered quite a lot. Including how your mother used to do her tarot readings at the dining room table when you were little and how your Yayo would always bring you dancing shoes for your birthday every year. Your childhood doesn't feel cloudy and far away anymore.

"Perhaps the floor will be embedded in something that will aid your time travel." He muses, smirking at the thought. "Something that would bring us to our ballroom."

"A little magical transporter pad in the middle of the ballroom?" You suggest, not bothering to suppress a giggle. "I'll have to incorporate 'beam me up' into my spell work."

"I always loved Star Trek when I was younger." Max admits with zero shame. "Next Generation of course."

"Of course." And of course you fully agree, having watched so much science fiction with your father as a kid. "The Holodeck? A dream come true."

“We have our own version of the holodeck.” He teases. “Time. We will be able to go anywhere if this works. Want to visit Pompeii before the eruption? We can take a day trip.”

"Where would you want to go?" Your dancing has slowed a little but you're still turning around the marked out space that will one day be your ballroom. "When or where? What do you want to see?"

“Anywhere.” He shrugs. “Everywhere. History is before us and behind us. It will be interesting to see it in person.”

The freedom of it is enticing, you have to admit, and you grin as he spins you around. "We're going to have to get really good historical clothing. A whole closet of it so we can go anywhere or anytime we want."

“Who says we don’t already have that?” Max challenges with a grin. “We also didn’t know we had a house.”

"That..." Your eyes flick up to his and you tilt your head, amused at the thought that you might already have a hoard of clothes and souvenirs to dig through in the future. "Is a very good point."

“I’m just full of wisdom.” He teases playfully, right before he dips you low to the ground just to hear your breath catch and your heartbeat speed up.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you not to play with your food?" You tease. He's only ever fed from you once, but you've found yourself thinking about it more and more since that night, and how much more intimate it made your love life.

His brow wings up and he smirks at you. “My food?” He asks, playing coy. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”

"You know what I mean." He picks you up again, setting you on your feet, but holds you even closer than before. "I've been...thinking about it. A lot."

“And what have you been thinking about it?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"That..." If you roll your eyes slightly at how dramatic he's being, it's only because the heat of embarrassment is rising in your cheeks a little. "That it was...really sexy..."

“It was sexy, wasn’t it?” He hums smugly. “Two very different parts of my body, buried inside you at the same time.”

"We should definitely do it again soon." If his voice drops anymore it will be in his toes, and it is doing things to you. Very distracting, very horny things.

“How soon?” Max inquires, cock twitching in his pants. He’s hungry, but the blood your grandfather has been supplying has been alleviating that. Although it’s not as sweet as your blood.

"Can you wait until tonight?" A smirk graces your lips, though you can't feel the evidence of his arousal with so many layers of clothing between you. "Or are we actually going to fuck in the back of that phaeton?"

“I was thinking more of using that blanket and having you sit on my cock while I bite your tender neck.” Max growls. “But we can always wait for tonight.”

"If we wait until tonight, we can take as long as we want, and I you can have me as many different ways as you want." There's the added benefit of being able to be naked the entire time, too, because Max is nothing if not stunningly handsome.

“Fiiiiiine.” He huffs and pouts, but there is a smirk tucked into his cheek. “You are teasing me, knowing how much I ache for you.”

"You're not the only one aching," you promise him. If he could get one hand under all of the layers of skirts you're wearing right now, he'd feel exactly how aching and wet you are at the moment. "I just really like having you naked."

“It is pretty great, isn’t it?” He asks cockily. “Killer abs and all.” He chuckles and spins you around. “Although I love when you are naked more.”

"Then I think it's a really good reason to excuse ourselves after dinner." That big four-poster bed is calling your name. Or rather, it's going to be the place that you call his name.

"Yes, you are exhausted." He tells you dramatically. "Or perhaps you have a headache and require my special attention." He leers and flashes his fangs at you while waggling his brows.

“Very special attention.” You agree with a tone so serious that it circles back again to silly.

“A shot of protein cures everything.” Max jokes.

The inelegant snort that earns from you devolves you both into a fit of laughter right there in the middle of the clearing. “You’re ridiculous,” you pronounce when you finally stop laughing and can breathe again. “And I love you so much.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” From the first time he had met you, he had expected you to be prime and proper, but you are delightfully dirty when you want and you love his sense of humor.

“Show me more of the house?” You’ll stay out here in the chilly ocean breeze with him all afternoon, dreaming and scheming about all the things the future has in store. But you definitely also want to see the outline of the house the way he’s imagined it.

“Our dinning room is off the ballroom.” He explains, moving towards the east side of the stakes. “So the buffet tables can be replenished by the kitchens easily.”

“Are you already planning our first party?” Sure you’re teasing him, but you know what you would choose for it to be.

“I think we have to have a party.” He huffs, eyes wide. “Don’t you? Unless you want this to be the mysterious house that everyone is dying to see and never do?”

“We’ll enigmatically say it’s been in the family for a long time,” you suggest with a grin. “We have to throw a party.”

He chuckles and nods. “That was my thought. Your grandfather has taught me about establishing new identities when our will become “too old”. On paper at least.”

"He's enjoying having someone to pass all of his knowledge down to." Even if you don't know your grandfather too intimately, you certainly can see the pride on his face from spending time with Max. It's the same expression he has with Emmanuel, and you suppose for very similar reasons.

“He could have started the training a little sooner.” Max huffs, shaking his head. “Feel like I’m back studying for my MBA.”

“And since he knows exactly how well you did studying for that MBA, he knows how well you’ll do now.” The outlines of the house are well marked, and when you come to the edge of the dining room he leads you along the demarcation of what you assume will be the great hall. “It wouldn’t be a Yayo-approved level of dramatic reveal if he had started with you sooner.”

He rolls his eyes only because he knows it’s true. “Can’t spoil the surprises.” He snorts.

"Never," you laugh right along with him. "Gods forbid."

The tour of the upstairs is less concrete, more just telling you about the living quarters of the little gothic castle he is building for his witch soulmate. Explaining it to you in vivid detail.

The two of you spend hours out there, walking every inch of the property and dreaming over every detail. It's a fairly remarkable feat of planning, but it sounds marvelous, and by the time you're bundling back into the carriage with Max, you can't stop smiling.

“So, what do you think?” He asks as the Phaeton is turned around and headed back towards your grandparents house. “Too much? Or just right?”

“For us?” You loop one hand around his arm as he steers the horses and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’d say absolutely perfect. It can be grand when we want it to be and intimate for all the other times. Dramatic but comfy. That’s perfect for us.”

“That is what I want.” He admits. “Plus, building in this era, hopefully the building will last for hundreds of years for our adventures.”

“Do you think…” Shifting beside him, you look up at Max seriously. “That…I ought to tell abuela and Mom? Not who I am but…where we came from? Otherwise won’t they be wondering why we’ve suddenly disappeared but are building a house?”

“Your grandfather will tell them after we go home.” He and Max had a long, serious conversation and had come to the conclusion that was the best course of action. That way the time could be enjoyed without questions that might give away your identity and somehow change the future.

“You two have talked through everything.” And you’re grateful for it. Otherwise the anxiety of the whole situation might have kept you from making so many wonderful memories.

"I know it seems like we are planning your life for you." Max reaches for your hand again. "If you want to be included, I will talk with your grandfather."

“Honestly?” You shrug a little, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I don’t mind having you look out for me. Making sure I’m safe and putting a literal roof over my head? It’s comforting. I had…all those years there where there was no stability. Anything could be gone in an instant. So this? This…feels pretty amazing, if I’m honest.”

"As long as it doesn't feel controlling." He murmurs quietly. That was his worry, to somehow make you feel like you are back under someone's thumb. His own thumb rubs the back of your hand gently. "You are my partner. My equal in everything."

“And I know that if I said something made me unhappy, you would fix it in a heartbeat.” You grin at him, setting your tongue firmly in your cheek. “Even though you don’t have one.”

"I do when I kiss you." He can't help but lean in to press his lips against yours just to feel it. He grins against your lips and hums happily when he feels that bump in his chest.

"Watch the road, baby." Even as you hum it, you can't help giggling quietly.

"I can drive and kiss my soulmate at the same time." He huffs, rolling his eyes at you dramatically and sighing. "Fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnneeeeee."

"You can, but I don't want to have to explain to my grandfather that his phaeton got overturned on the road because we got handsy," you tell him with a guilty grin, knowing it will happen.

“You’re right.” It grates that you are right about that, but he knows he can’t keeps his hands off you when he want to touch you. Especially now that a certain step has been taken.

Instead of letting him pout, you flash Max a grin instead. "Quickie before dinner?"

“Absolutely.” He smirks and winks at you. “Want to see if we can set a record for how fast you cum?”

"We need to keep a tally of what the fastest really is." It's like dangling the carrot of a challenge in front of Max, and you know he can never resist a challenge. "Just for fun?"

"Timers." Max huffs. "Why can't they have timers in this era that are accurate to the millisecond?"

"I'll wear your Apple Watch when we get home," you tease him. Max is always so cute when he pouts. "See how fast my heart rate spikes."

"I want to time from the moment we enter the bedroom until you are screaming my name." Max tells you with a chuckle.

"That never takes long." He has learned very quickly how to play your body like a finely tuned instrument. Thankfully, one rocky evening of magical interruption hasn't interrupted your desire for each other.

"That's because you cum so easily, sweetheart." He teases, particularly proud of that fact considering that you had said that you never really came during sex.

“Weird.” Particularly lighthearted in your teasing, you roll your eyes at him and laugh. “It’s almost like I respond better to clitoral stimulation and nobody before you knew what the fuck a clitoris was.”

"I studied in school." He winks at you playfully. "Your little clit is my favorite sucker, toy, whatever you want to call it. It's the best."

You toss him a smirk, leaning into his side again as he steers the horses back up the road. “It loves you, too.”

Max eyes you smugly. "I know."

“You’re so fucking pleased with yourself.” It cracks you up all over again, sending you into giggles at his side. Truly one of the best things about how easy it is to spend time with Max is the laughter. “But you’ve earned it, I suppose.”

"You wound me." He pouts. "I've most definitely earned it. No supposing about it."

“Maybe I just like when you prove it to me?”

Throwing his head back, Max laughs. "Of course you do."

******

Your morning magic lessons have persisted. The hours between breakfast and lunch have been spent in the tower with your grandmother and sometimes your mother as they help you to control the powers that have been locked inside you for so long. This morning Annie come upstairs with you after sharing breakfast as a family. Max kissed you goodbye at the table before leaving with your grandfather to go out to the site of the future Seacliff Castle, and your grandmother had been delighted with a morning for you three witches to spend time together.

The smell of herbs fill the air and Cookie hums as she builds up the fire in the hearth for the cauldron that is suspended over it. The quick flick of her wrist and the almost murmured words creates a flame that is powerful and she smirks at it. "Today we will work on healing." She decides. "It can be very useful, especially as the soulmate of a vampire."

"I suspect one accumulates infinite nicks and cuts over hundreds of years," you agree, dutifully settling yourself down on the stool beside Annie on one side of the fire. It's clear that your mother is an incredibly gifted witch, but she is still honing her skills. She might be more powerful than your grandmother one day, but that day has not yet come.

"Max will heal," She gives a small laugh. "I am talking about healing yourself when you soulmate gets too amorous and bites too hard."

"Oh." Even though his saliva heals the wound on your neck whenever he bites you — which he has now done a total of three times and you ache a little just thinking about it — of course there may be a time when he is not so loving and careful. A time when things get, as your abuela puts it, amorous. "I...uh...of course."

Annie looks queasy and swallows but Cookie smirks. "Plus you might be in a position to heal another human." She mentions quietly. “My talents were of great use during the war.”

"I imagine there would be a great many times healing magic might come in handy." You offer, just thinking out loud now. "Including childbirth."

"Childbirth, I would suggest having another witch with you." She advises.

"Goodness." Annie glances at you with worry in her eyes. "I cannot say I look forward to that at all."

"Your father created a tonic." She reminds her daughter and look of utter love as she reaches out and caresses Annie's cheek. "The twenty-three hours of labor it took to bring you into the world was lovely. Like floating on a cloud."

"You may be the only woman in the world to ever be able to say that." Although the bit about it taking twenty-three hours makes you cringe internally. Thinking back, your mother had told you she was only in labor with you for something like five or six. "That makes you very lucky."

“The end was absolutely worth it.” Cookie beams at Annie who huffs in embarrassment. Her mother sometimes overly showers her with affection.

"Truly." You couldn't agree more, but it's for far more reasons than either Cookie or Annie might think.

"Have you and Max had a conversation about children?" She asks, prying slightly but not even embarrassed about that.

It's impossible to admit that you're trying to have children in the traditional way without giving away your bloodline — and therefore telling them that you are related to them in some very direct way — so you cross your hands over your lap and pretend to be quite embarrassed for a second while you decide what to say. "The house that he and Mr. Brown have designed will have several bedrooms," you tell them finally. "We are hoping to be able to adopt many children throughout our lifetime."

"It is always wonderful to be able to do that." Cookie agrees. "There have been several children that my soulmate brought home." She smiles at her daughter. "Although none after we had you."

"Families can take many shapes." You offer, shifting slightly in your seat and generally being glad that no one seems to be pushing the point any further.

"Yes." She gives you a small pat on your arm and then turns back to the cauldron.

It feels oddly patronizing, that pat on the arm, but you brush past it and smile at your grandmother. “So what will we be learning today? Healing, yes, but what specifically?”

"Supernatural injuries." Cookie supplies, just as mysterious as her soulmate at times.

“Vampire bites?” You guess, remembering what she had said earlier. “Singeing yourself with magic?”

"There can be a host of different injuries that can come up from having a vampire for a soulmate." She's speaking from experience but she won't gross her daughter. "I'm sure you understand what I mean."

“I…might have an idea.” There’s a chance she’s referencing rough or at least energetic sex, and you determinedly don’t want to think about your grandparents fucking. Clearing your throat and nodding, you just try not to look uncomfortable. “Although I’m not sure I understand how that could result in an injury.”

"Mother." Annie hisses the word, clearly mortified since she knows what her mother with say. Cookie ignores her daughter and gives you a small smile. "There is a reason that I have only had one child." She admits. "I cannot physically carry anymore."

“I see.” Obviously this isn’t something you had ever known before, and you look between both women sitting with you. “But…you are healthy now, are you not?”

"Unfortunately, my magic was not what it is now, nor did I have the potions I have." She sighs sadly, knowing that she would have loved a large family but it wasn't to be. "When I healed myself, it was poorly done and I have accepted that my darling Annie will be my only child."

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” The realization that you might have had aunts or uncles comes out of nowhere. It wasn’t something you had ever considered, and now the loss feels something real and tangible. “It’s very generous of you to share your knowledge.”

“I believe that it is my job to care for the potential mates of my husband’s kind.” She murmurs softly. “Especially when they are young, vampires are not aware of their strength, their hunger.”

“Their own strength can surprise even them.” Some of the stories that Max has told you have made that pretty clear. It’s easy for young vampires to get carried away or not realized how far they’re pushing.

“Yes.” She nods, “so it’s safe to say that a strong healer as a partner goes a long way.” Annie cuts her eyes away and doesn’t say anything, but it’s obvious she’s not interested in the conversation.

“And a well-rounded witch is an asset to any coven. Especially a strong one.” Trying to include Annie in this feels almost foreboding considering you know what will happen to Emmanuel, but it isn’t your place to say. It isn’t your place to get involved at all.

“Exactly.” Cookie beams in approval, happy that you understand and share her outlook. “Unfortunately, if you don’t use your magic, it tends to be unreliable so practice is always needed.”

“As I have learned.” In fact, it’s something of an understatement. Last night you came so hard that you started shimmering — that had been an adventure.

“So, we will make ourselves some tea, and then we will work on the spells and potions.” Cookie decides.

“I’ll make the tea,” you offer, moving from your seat to the small side table your abuela keeps stocked in the tower with various kinds of tea and a heavy cast iron kettle that hangs over the fire. It’s good practice for you to conjure the water necessary to fill the kettle, and each time you’re proud when it's a little easier.

“Thank you, my dear.” It’s cozy, the three of you. It feels right in a way that she can’t quite describe. Her soulmate has encourage her to spend as much time as possible with you and it is a task she performs happily.

In the quiet of the moment, there is a sinking of your heart. It's less than a week now until the Samhain ball and you and Max have selected that night to travel back to your time — after a few secret test drives of your time travel magic where you successfully jumped a few minutes into the future each time. "I...wanted to speak to both of you." You say finally, looking between them with your hand hovering over the heavy kettle as your magic fills it steadily with water. "If I might?"

Looking up from her own work, Cookie senses that there is something bothering you. Something that you need to get off your chest. She abandons the herbs and motions you to the table. "Of course," she hums quietly. "Whatever you need to say, we will listen."

Rather than abandoning your task, you finish filling the kettle and put it on the heat before sitting down. The time it will take the boil is plenty enough time to tell them what you need to. "Max and I have been talking," you begin, sitting down between them. "And we think we might leave soon to do more traveling."

"Oh?" Cookie raises her brows in surprise and Annie gasps. "A tour of Europe?" She asks, envy and hope in her voice.

"Perhaps." You nod, glad to see that the harmless lie that you and Max devised seems to be so readily accepted. "We thought we might see as much of the world as we can while the house is being built. Though...we do not know how long that will take."

"Travel does take time." Cookie hums, smiling slightly. "It is faster than it used to be. The architect has your plans, and my husband and I will be willing to do any decision making if you would like."

"Max has been working with Mr. Brown on all of the plans, I have faith that he will be able to make any and all decisions necessary." In fact, you and Max had talked over it and decided that you liked Chateau-sur-Mer enough that you were willing to trust Seacliff Castle to your grandfather while you were 'away'.

"Then you must go and not worry yourselves." Cookie tells you. "You can always send a telegram to inquire."

“But that means…” Annie seems to have come to a conclusion all at once, eyes widening and looking stricken. “I know.” You nod slightly, looking sheepish if not managing downright upset. “It means we will be out of country when you get married.” It was, in addition to taking care of the reason you wouldn’t be around much going forward — an incredibly good excuse. European or world tours by the rich were very common in this time and it provided you with a very convenient out so Annie could not invite you to the wedding that will never happen.

"Oh." Her entire frame seems to wither slightly and she nods, even if she is disappointed. She was raised with better manners than that and her mother would be very upset if she caused a scene. "That's...disappointing."

"I'm so sorry, Annie." Disappointing your mother is not on your list of good feelings in the world, and if it weren't that you know how poorly her engagement is going to go, you would be badgering Max to agree to travel back to the wedding day with you.

"We will just have to visit when you come back and I can tell you all about how married life is treating me." She smiles reassuringly at you, reaching out and clasping your hand gently.

"When we come back we will be very nearby," you promise her. Her hand in yours is the ultimate reassurance, and you squeeze it back just as gently. "And you will have to come and see it, of course. We insist."

"I would love that." She promises, nodding quickly. "I would love to see what you and your soulmate design for a home. Max has...inspired taste."

"He certainly has unique thoughts for the house." Every single one of them sounds fantastic to you, if you're honest, but you won't rub it in now that she's upset about you leaving. Instead, as much as it twists you inside, you flip the topic back to her. "And we will be very glad to see where you and Emmanuel have settled."

“Yes…I’m sure there will be quite a bit of travel.” She smiles dreamily. “A working honeymoon.”

"Have you decided yet where you'll live?" Cookie asks, trying her very best to sound nonchalant but actually very deeply invested in the answer.

“We haven’t decided.” Annie admits. “Emmanuel will need to be close to his family for his business but he also wants to be near you and father.”

"That sounds very much like one house in New York and another here in Newport." Thinking of your mother as one of the fashionable New York society set isn't odd to you at all anymore, and in fact it makes you smile. "It sounds very lovely."

“That is what I am hopefully for.” She admits with a small giggle. “But Emmanuel has also talked about a house in San Francisco, when we have to go west.”

"All the more reason to build here as well." Cookie insists. It is such a terribly modern phenomenon for children to move far away from their parents and she dreads the idea of losing Annie entirely. No matter how happy her daughter might be.

“We will be in Newport often, mother.” She assures her mother, although it’s clear that she’s excited for the future. “Emmanuel wishes to work closely with father.”

"I'm sure that will be very good for them both." You make yourself smile, but hop up from your seat to take the kettle off of the fire and pour three cups of tea.

Annie rolls her eyes playfully and huffs but she’s grinning by the time she’s accepting the tea cup. “One can only hope.”

“Drink your tea, girls.” Cookie smiles approvingly, her own cup in hand before the rolling fire. “And then we will begin.”

******

"I'm nervous," you hum, pacing restlessly around the guest room on the third floor of Chateau-sur-Mer with Max mere feet away as he tries and retries to knot his bowtie in the full-length mirror.

"I am too." He admits quietly, his eyes moving from the bowtie to meet yours in the reflection. "Not the time traveling. I know you will get us home, Dolly." He assures you. "I'm nervous about what they will think by us leaving."

“Hopefully they’ll accept that we were too upset for goodbyes.” The letters you’ve written over the last few days — to your grandparents, your mother, to Emmanuel, to Lina Astor, and to Alice and Cornelius Vanderbilt — all laid out that you and Max are taking your tour of the world couldn’t bear the melancholy of saying goodbye. They thank your dear loved ones for hosting you, for their friendship, and for their kindness. They express the want to see these friends again. They are the goodbyes that you know you’ll sob too hard over if you have to say them in person.

"Only your grandfather will know the truth for now." He sighs, turning around and reaching for you. "I know you will miss your mother."

“We’ll come back.” You’ve already decided that, knowing that Max has also made friends here. This is a place and time you both have found surprising comfort in.

"Once we get back, though, I want to go through all the old bird's letters." Max snorts, grinning at you and giving you something to look forward to.

“All of abuela’s letters and all of the clothes in storage.” You could not agree more. “And all the things that Seacliff has undoubtedly been filled with that we still don’t know the stories of.”

"True." He nods and smiles at the excitement that you will have through the mansion that had been built for you.

“That’s what I have to keep telling myself. That we’ll come back, and that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.” Instinctively, you move across the room again. This time to Max’s arms. “And that I won’t fuck up bringing us home.”

"You won't." He knows this, even if you continuously worry about it. You hadn't really slept last night.

“You have such unshakable faith in me.” Sinking into his arms helps immeasurably, banishing some of the worst thoughts with the cool touch of his hands on your back. Your gown shows just enough of your shoulders and arms that he can touch your back, which was entirely strategic in your part.

"What I don't have is faith in myself." He confesses, watching a frown bloom on that beautiful face of yours. "No faith I won't whisk you away to ravage in you the in gardens." He adds with a smirk and a cocky wink. "Not when my wife will be the most stunning creature at the ball."

"It wouldn't be the first time we've left a party early to tango," you grin up at him and take the moment as a sigh of relief. "Perhaps that's where they'll think we've gone when we disappear tonight. Just ran away to our bed to indulge ourselves."

“It is a good possibility.” He laughs and slides his hands up and down your back. “Are you ready to go home, sweetheart? Really? If you want to stay….”

"As much as I want to spend time with my mother? It's time." Having gone over it in your mind several times over the last week, you've weighed the selfishness of wanting to stay with historical side effects, the affect in might have on Max, and all manner of other things, and decided that ultimately it is time to go back to the future. "We'll plan to come back when we start to miss it enough, and then we can be excited for it then."

Max nods. He hadn’t wanted to pressure you, but every day you spend in this time is one that you could possibly alter the future. As much as he would love to right every wrong in your past, he needs to keep his word to your grandfather. “We will make it soon.” He promises.

“Let me…” Reaching up, you tug and finesse his tie into place, offering him a soft smile. “There. We should go down soon.”

“We should.” The good thing about this time is that he can kiss you and there’s no lipstick that will transfer. Making him smirk and bite your bottom lip gently after he steals a kiss. “There. Now they are darker.” He teases.

“When we get home it’s going to be transfer-proof lipstick only.” Mostly because any time he nips at you like that you just want to drag him into bed and ride him into the next day — but that’s beside the point.

“Awww that’s no fun.” He sends you a playful pout before turning and offering his arm. “Shall we, Mrs. Phillips?”

“We shall.” You take his arm, but give it a light squeeze. “I’m going to miss that,” you admit, not afraid to say so one bit.

“Maybe when we get back, we can make it official?” Max asks casually, glancing over at you before looking ahead towards the stairs.

"Maybe, he says, like I'm not going to agree immediately." In fact, you're beaming at him immediately, squeezing his arm under your hand and leaning in to his side. "I'd love that. Almost as much as I love you."

“Yeah?” It’s still something of a novelty for him, to be loved so completely. “Maybe we should do that? Something small? In the gardens?”

“Maybe…” you bite your lip slightly and look up at him when you reach the stairs. “Maybe that would be how we open Seacliff? With a little wedding?”

“Really?” His eyes light up and he nods. “We can do that.” He agrees instantly. “A little wedding and a large ball afterwards?”

"Small wedding, big reception?" It sounds exactly like something the two of you would enjoy, and the way your heart skips a beat is so full of joy. "I think it sounds perfect."

“And I get to haul my wife off for some wedding sex.” Max chuckles.

“Your wife is going to insist on it, actually.” You throw him a wink like he likes to do to you as you descend the stairs together. “The party can go all night and so can we.”

“We will have our own party.” He promises with a grin. “After our waltz, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and haul you out.”

“I have absolutely no doubt about it.” Considering his incredible, supernatural strength? He could probably lift the whole house if necessary. “In fact,” you lower your voice, hearing the sounds on the last-minute party preparations or perhaps the first arrivals on the ground floor. “I’ll be begging for it.”

“You’ll be begging for something else.” He jokes, smirking to himself. “Especially after I very discreetly make you cum in front of everyone.”

“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

“You are going to grind down on my knee while we dance.” He explains with a smug tone.

"So no giant ballgown." A decisive nod follows the thought and you giggle. "Got it."

“Would you be too disappointed?” Max asks softly. “Otherwise I can have you wear some vibrating panties.”

"I..." Shrugging slightly, your eyes track up to his and you bite your lip again. Wondering if he'll find your honest answer to be too depressing. "I stopped dreaming about my wedding a long time ago. So I'll wear whatever you want me to and we'll have whatever kind of party you want. As long as I get to marry you, I don't care."

Your answer breaks his heart, and it’s not even beating. “Sweetheart…” Max stops the walk towards the ballroom, pulling you into a small alcove and cups your cheeks. “I- I would marry you at city hall. Just you and me. But I want you to start dreaming again. I want you to feel safe enough to dream.”

"I do. I do feel safe enough." And that is entirely because of him. Or ninety-five percent because of him and five very solid percent because of Mrs. Taylor, who you will never disrespect or disobey for as long as your magically prolonged life allows. "I just...all that matters to me is that you're there. But if you want me to dream? Baby, I'll take Allison dress shopping with me so fast your head will spin."

“I want you to do whatever you want. Whatever that looks like.” He admits.

"We'll talk about it when we get back," you promise him. "I'll dream a little and you'll dream a little, and maybe there will be some parts of the balls we've been to that we'll want to keep for ourselves." Even though your hands are in his, you tug him even closer and press a soft kiss to his lips. "For tonight, let's just enjoy our last night in 1885."

“A toast-less toast.” Max declares softly. “To our last night in 1885—” he poses. “May it be as magical as we wish it to be.”

"Literally." Tongue firmly planted in cheek, you kiss him again — longer this time, to seal the toast — and turn back toward the ballroom with resolve.

“Here goes nothing.” Max hums as Mr. Taylor, resplendent in his butler’s garb for the evening, spots you and quickly opens the door to the ballroom. “Now presenting, Mister and Mistress Maximus P. Phillips.”

You know Max enjoys the little bit of fuss and the formality of being announced at balls, but you will never cease to be amused at how he insists on giving a different version of Max to every different butler or attendant no matter where you go. "Oh, my dears." Cookie is the first to reach you, holding out her hands to both of you and positively beaming. "How resplendent you look. Most wonderful. Come in, come in, I have Dolly's dance card here and I'm afraid you've already been asked after by several ladies, Max. You'll both be most sought after tonight."

“As long as you save two dances for my wife.” He insists. “No- three.” He waggles his brows, knowing how much of a scandal that would be. “If it is acceptable to you, of course.”

"I know you like your waltzes." The older woman hums, smiling at the two of you with her maternal pride. She takes the small pencil that she will tie to your wrist along with your dance card and writes Max's name down for three dances before hurrying you both along. "Go, dears. And enjoy yourselves."

“Shall we check the refreshments?” He asks. If you have a cup of lemonade in your hands, you are less likely to be offered champagne.

"Nothing's better than abuela's lemonade." You hum, keeping the abuela part as quiet as possible.

“I know you love it.” Your grandmother insists on making the lemonade for events herself, claiming it is a secret.

"I bet Mrs. Taylor has the recipe." There's no way that Cookie entrusted it to anyone else, and when you reach the punch bowls — one with harmless, regular lemonade and the other with intensely alcoholic punch – you pick up two glasses. "Who else are you planning on dancing with tonight? Besides me and Annie and Cookie?"

“I figured that if Mrs. Astor shows, I will be required to dance with her as well.” Max shrugs. “If they aren’t you, I’m just going through the motions.” He admits quietly.

“At least with Lina we can say some sort of goodbye.” The older woman had promised in her last letter to bring your copy of her grimoire with her to the ball, so you know that she will absolutely be here tonight. “That’s worth something.”

“Yes it is.” Max reaches up and pinches your chin softly. Apparently it’s an acceptable show of affection in this time. “Just no tears, my love.”

“I’ll do my best.” And that’s all you can promise him. Saying goodbye to your family without actually saying goodbye is going to tear your heart out. At least this time you have the solace of knowing you’ll see them again.

“I know.” He hands you the lemonade that he ladles up and gives you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right beside.”

“Don’t you make the picture of domestic bliss.” Yayo’s voice from behind you cuts through the quiet moment, and the smile in his tone is evident. “Have you been looking forward to tonight?”

“Absolutely.” Max turns and greets your grandfather with a firm handshake. “Your wife puts on a spectacular ball.”

“We’re very grateful to be included.” Hugging him would be an inappropriate show of affection since no one else knows this man as your grandfather, so you have to just accept that a warm handshake is as intimate as anything could be.

“There is no reason why you would not be included.” He reminds you as he looks to see Annie and Emmanuel venture closer. “My daughter is very fond of you.” His lips play into an enigmatic smile. “I wonder why that is.”

“It is so very difficult to fathom,” you tease, offering him a mirror of his own mysterious expression. Though yours quickly slides into a grin. “Though one might say our bond is almost…familial.”

“Hmmm.” He nods and lifts a brow. “I was hoping there was still a spot for me on your dance card for tonight.”

“Of course.” If you’re honest? You would have saved him a dance even without your dance card. After all, Yayo has been a champion of your dancing since you were just a toddler. This version of him doesn’t know that though, not yet, so you simply hold out your dance card for him to sign.

“Good.” He smiles happily and pats your arm. “Then I will see you later on.” He nods at Max and quickly disappears.

“We should find Annie and Emmanuel.” Linking your hand around Max’s arm again is comfortable and familiar as the ballroom grows fuller and fuller. “You should take a spot on her card and Emmanuel should be on mine.”

“I believe that is a must.” Max hum, “I would love to dance with my mother in law.” To the unknowing ear, Max would sound sarcastic, but he really means it. He adores your mother and it’s charming to see where some of your habits come from. Even the ones you aren’t aware of.

"We'll make a nice night of it." And then, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, you'll disappear. And that will be that.

“We could stay.” Max offers gently. If you wanted to stay in this time, he would be willing. Wanting you to be happy.

"I'm beginning to think you want to stay." He's offered multiple times, and you tilt your head at him slightly. "Is that...why you've offered? Because you would rather stay here than go back?"

“Sweetheart…” Max turns back to you and gives a very human sigh. “You shine around your M and GM,” he decided abbreviating them would be better in public, just in case. “I’ve never seen someone change so much- smile so much, laugh. If being here is what makes that happen, I’ll live without my phone, or laptop.”

"Honey..." Blowing out a deep breath, you take his hand and pull him into the library to get away from the commotion and noise of the ballroom. "Max...honey, if I'm shining here? It's because of how much I love you. How happy you make me. I mean...I love being around my family again. More than I can possibly say. But if you told me that you never wanted to come back here again then I would tell Yayo to stop construction on Seacliff immediately and we would just go back to our time like none of this ever happened. I just...I don't think you feel that way. You shine here, too, Max. I don't know if you realize that."

He huffs, shaking his head slightly. Unsure if that was true. “That would never happen.” He tells you, talking about stopping construction. “I don’t care what time we live, I just want to be with you.”

“Are you happy here?” It isn’t an easy question, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s an important one.

“It’s different, quiet.” He admits. “But I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life. Question for you.” He lifts a brow. “Are you prepared to live through history? Atrocities you know are coming, and not do anything about it?”

“Are we talking world wars, or are we talking about my mother?” Either way, the question makes you pause, biting your lip and looking up at him with curiosity in your eyes. “I think there’s something to be said for the quiet life.,” you echo. “For being a part of the movements that will shape history. I think…I didn’t really understand what Lina meant before — about finding where you belong. But this time is good for both of us.”

“It is.” Max acknowledges. It’s not like he has a lot of close friends in his time. “So what are you thinking? Just stay? Go back and tell Allison?”

“What if…” Chewing on your lip again, you step in closer to him to have your arms around his waist and squeeze his hips slightly. “What if…when it comes time for us to be born…we time travel home again? Live right up to our lifetimes and then get out of dodge so we’re not tempted to check in on ourselves? We were going to time travel the night of the Samhain ball, right? So we can just…do that on the Samhain night before you’re born. Right? We’ll still return at the same time we were going to anyway.”

“That’s-“ he’s struck dumb for a second by the sheer genius of the idea. “Genius.” He hadn’t been looking forward to leaving if he was honest. He’s immortal, he has all the time in the world. But you don’t. “You would have to take my blood.” He reminds you quietly.

“I know.” You nod, letting your arms slip around his waist. “And I’ll start tonight, if you’re okay with that.”

“Are you sure?” He knows that you have still been thinking about regularly taking his blood.

“I told you I wanted to spend my whole life with you,” you remind him, voice quiet in the dim light of the library. “I want it to be the longest life we can possibly have together.”

“I love you too.” He teases quietly, reassured by your words. “Do you want to just enjoy the night or find your grandfather?”

“We should tell him tonight.” As much as you may enjoy his — and Max’s — flare for the dramatic, it doesn’t quite work here. “Otherwise he’ll be expecting to find notes on our pillow in the morning and find us instead.”

“That would be interesting.” Max chuckles and leans in. “Considering you will most likely be asleep on my cock.”

He might be right, but your eyes still widen and you instinctively look around to make sure no one heard him. “You’ve never complained before,” you mumble instead, mild and momentarily embarrassment evaporating when you find yourself still alone.

Max smirks and winks at you. “The Phillips cause a scandal wherever they go.” He teases you quietly.

“It’s too bad we can’t cause a scandal being caught together like this.” It certainly has a particular lure to it now…being alone with him like this. “Too married for that.”

“If we stay, we will have to get married for real.” He whispers. “We will tell them that we will the marriage to be blessed.”

“We’ll have to build a whole life. Work and a marriage and even a family.” It will be a miracle if it happens, and even though you tell yourself not to count on it, there is so much hope in your voice.

“I know.” Max nods and the bites his lip. “We would need to wait for kids though.” He reminds you softly. “Otherwise Cookie and Annie would suspect something.”

He’s right, and you know he’s right, but for now you disguise your disappointment with teasing. “I guess you better work on your pullout game, then, Mr. Phillips. No condoms in the Gilded Age. At least not good ones.”

“Need to find the inventor of the Trojan.” Max grunts before he reaches for your hand. “I love you.”

"I love you, too." That is, after all, the crux of everything. No matter what else changes in your life, no matter what crazy things may come in the years ahead, you will always love Max.

Before you go and find your grandfather, there’s one thing that Max wants to do first. He bows formally and looks up at you with a doting expression. “May I have your first dance, Mrs. Phillips?”

"Mr. Phillips," you set your hand in his and feel your whole heart lift. "I insist on it."

“Just the first of many first dances in this time.” Max promises, beaming at you as he straightens and starts to escort you into the ballroom.

******

Research had commenced in earnest the next morning, with Allison setting up her laptop in the library while Eddie began to methodically look through paperwork to see if Max’s name was on anything older than just a few years ago. Through the power of internet research, though, and a few masterful keyword searches, Allison is frowning at her laptop in no time. “There is a Mr. and Mrs. M Phillips listed as part of Mrs. Astor’s 400,” she reports, glancing up at Eddie a few feet away. “But they don’t have a Wikipedia page, of course.”

“That would make sense.” Eddie calls out, bent over a file. It seems as though his sire, or Cookie, was meticulous at keeping records and as a result, there were thousands of pages to go through. “Although God help us all if Max bent some of the most power men in history ears.” He snorts.

“Can you imagine?” She huffs in amusement and shakes her head, eyes returning to her laptop screen. “Your sire taught you both how to change identity to hide your immortality, right? What would he have said about names and things like that? Maybe I can find a pattern in identities that Max would have used.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. It’s good to keep it close to what you’ve had before. Will yourself the estate, set up trusts, that kind of thing.” He frowns slightly, thinking of the fact that Allison is very much human. “If they stayed….Dolly would have had to take Max’s blood, right? She wouldn’t have…”

“She would have taken his blood.” Somehow Allison is sure of that. Not just from the small conversations and early curiosity you had shown, but partially her own hopefulness at seeing you again. “If they got stuck, or they decided to stay, or whatever happened, he wouldn’t have done it without her. And she wouldn’t have left him.”

“No.” Eddie agrees. “He did a complete turn around with her. It’s amazing.” He twitches slightly and opens his mouth to bring up something that he has been thinking about. A lot.

“They love each other. It’s sweet.” Allison looks up from her laptop to see Eddie watching her intently and her smile turns soft. “What’s up, babe?” She asks, as easy as if they weren’t discussing the fate of some of their closest friends.

“It’s- probably stupid…” Eddie acknowledges that but he watches the woman he has completely fallen in love with frown at the idea anything he thinks about is stupid. Allison has been wonderful for him and he can only hope that she is half as happy as he is. “But this has gotten me thinking.”

“About what?” She’s sure it’s made him think about a hell of a lot of things, but Eddie doesn’t usually bring something serious up until he’s fully ready to talk about it so she shuts her laptop and gives him her full attention. “Is everything okay?”

“We aren’t soulmates.” The fact they don’t share marks doesn’t matter to Eddie, but for all the time they’ve spent together, he’s not entirely sure that it doesn’t matter to her. “It’s- I love you, no matter if we have matching marks or not. And I- fuck, Allison, I’m a vampire, I’m going to outlive you.” He huffs in distress.

“Of course you are.” She tilts her head, wondering how this is only starting to bother him now. Or if it has always bothered him and he has just never said anything. “You’re going to outlive any lover that’s mortal. But…I mean, I don’t have any weird illusions about it, if that’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, but I—” He walks over and takes her hand. “Do you care that we aren’t soulmates?” He asks seriously.

Allison shifts, making room for Eddie to sit beside her in the spare desk chair. “I really don’t,” she tells him honestly, her fingers threading through his. “I only care that we love each other.”

His smile stretches wide, happy that she had said that. “Then I want you to be with me, longer than your lifetime.”

“Eddie…” It stings slightly, what he’s suggesting — or at least what she thinks he’s suggesting — and she shakes her head. “That…it won’t work for us…me drinking your blood will only work if we’re soulmates. That’s…” Allison puffs out an unhappy breath. “Magic has rules. Whether we like it or not.”

“Let me change you.” Eddie whispers, biting his lip after he offers. “He would approve.” He knows his sire would love to have Allison turned, if he could choose anyone.

“Oh, Eddie—” Even as the breath leaves her, her hands tighten in his. The hope in his eyes - the love - is overwhelming, and she has to admit to herself that she really had not ever expected him to offer. For as much as Eddie loves her and she loves him? They had never breached the topic before. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t thought about it. “That’s…that’s forever, babe. That’s literally forever. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I don’t care about marks, I care about the fact that I love you. I love you so much and I don’t want to lose you to sickness, old age, time.” He insists. “I want to walk through history with you like Max and Dolly are doing back in the day.”

“A coincidentally similar name on a list doesn’t confirm anything, she reminds him, but Allison smiles warmly when she reaches up to cup Eddie’s cheek. “I’ve been so in love with you for years, you know that. And I just…I never, ever thought we’d get to this place.”

“I’ve been in love with you too.” He admits with a grin. “And once I realized that you felt the same, I just wanted to keep you forever.”

"You really mean that?" There are stories, of course. Stories of witches who traded in their ordinary lives for immortality. Some lost their powers, while some saw their abilities increase threefold. It is a gamble that she would have to be willing to take. But for Eddie? For Eddie? It's possible that Allison would do anything.

“Of course I mean it.” Eddie looks at her lovingly. “I think that I was always meant to love you, soulmates or not. And I will love you until the day I am destroyed.”

"We should talk to your sire before we do anything." Her hands are tight in his, holding on to him and completely unwilling to let go. "Make sure that there aren't any hidden catch-alls that could make things complicated before we...before I...before we take the next step."

“I…might have already mentioned something to him.” Eddie flusters and the fresh blood that he had consumed today causes the blush to cross his cheeks lightly.

"Suddenly you being so sure he won't mind makes more sense," she grins at him, feeling that lift and flutter and her heart that is so frequent with Eddie. "I'm sure he has some kind of...absurdly dramatic moment of revelation between us planned for a conversation about it. And then," Allison's stomach flips with happiness. "And then maybe we can mark the occasion somehow?"

“How would you want to mark the occasion?” Eddie asks softly, knowing that he would give her the world. Wants to give her the world, which he technically would with immortality.

"Maybe we can take a little trip?" After all the planning of the ball, and the immense step forward that this will be, Allison might have a little plan of her own in her head. If Eddie truly wants to give her forever? Then she's going to give him a promise of forever as well. "We'll have a little romantic getaway."

“Of course.” He nods, a little disappointed that he hasn’t thought of that himself.

"But first." Leaning forward, Allison presses a kiss to his lips and smiles, radiating that reassuring energy from herself to him as much as she can. "Let's see if we can find some kind of actual trace of these two weirdos in history. When we get burnt out on historical research, we can plan our trip."

“Right.” It feels like the pressure has been lifted off his chest. “There has to be some sort of clue if Max was there. His ego wouldn’t let him go completely undetected.”

"Possibly unfortunate for history, but fortunate for us." With one more kiss, Allison nudges Eddie back to the finals and opens her laptop once more. "I'm going to check New York City census records for the last name Phillips in the 1880s. If they were part of the 400, there will be traces of them somewhere."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion for a moment. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “The 400! Mrs. Astor’s list right?” He rushes back over to a book and grabs it before hurrying back over to Allison. Preferring not to use his vampiric speed to not scatter papers around the room.

"It's such a New York thing to have a famous list of fashionable people." She would roll her eyes over it if it wasn't proving so useful at the moment. "What do you have?"

“I actually have a list of attendees to a wedding brunch.” Eddie flips through the pages and frowns. “That’s strange, it says that the couple was already married but wished to have a celebration with friends and family.” He looks up at Allison. “Did that happen often?”

"Sometimes." She chews her lip between her teeth as he opens the journal from the library's files and sets it out in front of her. "I guess sometimes people did small church weddings and then large breakfast or brunches as receptions. Queen Victoria had a wedding breakfast and she pretty much set the standard for everything fashionable in the 1800s."

“Of course she did.” Eddie isn’t as keen on history as you and Allison, so he will have to take her word on it. “Night is better. At least to me. So you can have a garden filled with fairy lights.”

"Fairy lights at night sounds perfect." Snuggling into his side at the desk, Allison starts reading the page with a hum. The list is enormous, but there are familiar names on it. Mr. and Mrs. John Brown, Anne Brown, Mr. and Mrs. William Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Mr. and Mrs. Ogden Goelet, Mr. and Mrs. George Wetmore, Mr. and Mrs. William Watts Sherman. The list just goes on and on. "A lot of these are people who eventually had houses here in Newport." Humming softly as her finger skims the page, Allison gasps when she hits two thirds of the way down the page. "Baby, baby, look at this! The bride's name – it's Dolly!"

Eddie’s eyes widen when he sees your name and then he snorts. “Maxium Edward Phillips.” He huffs as he reads the grooms name. “That’s fucking hilarious. Considering his name is just Max. Not short for anything. And his parents didn’t give him a middle name.” He tells Allison. “He hated that he didn’t have a middle name.”

"His parents sound like they suck," Allison huffs in return. She sits back in the chair though, looking between Eddie and the book on the desk in front of her. "That's...fuck, that's our answer. They got married. They had friends. They made a life. They...they must have stayed."

“So…does that mean that they aren’t coming back tomorrow?” Eddie asks, frowning slightly at the idea that he would never see you or Max again.

"That's what he said and I don't know that he would lie about it." Eddie's sire may be enigmatic and highly dramatic, but as far as she knows he's not a liar. He had said that everyone would be reunited at the Samhain ball and they didn't really have any reason to doubt that. It was just trying to find out what had happened to you and Max in the meantime that was so important.

“Interesting.” Eddie hums, and shrugs. “Then we will continue to believe they will show up to the ball.”

"And in the meantime." Reaching for the book once more, Allison pulls it into her lap and leans back in Eddie's arms with a noise that sounds a whole lot like the contented purr of a house cat. "I'm going to read all about their wedding reception."

“Read it aloud, babe.” Eddie sinks his fingers into her hair and starts to massage her scalp lovingly. “I want to know what to make fun of Max for and what we might want to steal.”

______

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