#posting the second part and updating this with a link to it later

[evelyn-and-art]

TORSO STUDIES: Umemiya, Shitara, Takiishi and Togame

Art Studies with Eve #1

So lovely to work with them 🤭

+ Extras

[k-hippie]

k-707 ( 2025 EDITION ) RELEASE - FIRST WAVE

It’s finally here! Well, the first part of it—because let’s be real, this beast of a project is too massive to drop all at once ( unless we suddenly gain the ability to compress/expand time ) ;)

For now, we’re rolling out the first wave of k-707, covering :

- Base Game/Seasons ( Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, Newcrest ) - Get to Work ( Magnolia Promenade ) - Outdoor Retreat ( Granite Falls ) - Vampires ( Forgotten Hollow ) - Cottage Living ( Henford-on-Bagley ) - High School Years ( Copperdale ) - Life & Death ( Ravenwood )

Yes, we know ... you want more—but trust us, this is already a lot. The rest will come soon-ish ( don’t ask for dates, we’re not EA ) and as we say again and again, this is a work in progress, time for us to understand some more things with blender managing vertex painting and so on ;)

For everything related to instructions, how-to and so on, see the previous post or the "Download Page" of the k-707 on our website.

We replaced, reshaped, optimized, and obsessed over hundreds of trees and plants. Everything is optimized for directX11 ... Now, in theory, all should move right, look right, and fit right :D If you encounter a purple question mark on this new release, just send us a message. We'll see this together :)

Do not be surprised, some trees ( very very few ) are not yet modified ( -> I think about topiaries ) and some others have been fully replaced ( such as the ugly majestic and royal palms in base game )

Never forget this is still a work in progress and some changes will be done later ;)

As soon as we do some minor modifications and checks, we'll release a SECOND wave ( which should be very soon indeed )

Later ( End of February ) a THIRD and final wave will be released ...

Installation & Warnings

Each Expansion has 2 folders : one for plants, one for trees

The base game is split into 4 folders : 2 lots + 2 debug

Expansions with minimal greenery ( City Living, University, Get2Work ) are in single folder named k-hippie-k707-multi-greeny-2025

Do NOT mess with the folder structure unless you love chaos. If you merge files and something breaks, that’s on you. We won’t be able to troubleshoot Frankenstein mods ... More information on our website or into the previous post ;)

Final Notes

K-707 isn’t perfect ( yet ) :D We’re still tweaking, improving, and fixing things. We are aware some textures and styles need to be refined/modified. It will be done in time. But this is already a massive upgrade. So, enjoy your lusher, greener, better-integrated Sims world—and if you spot a tree acting weird, just pretend it’s haunted until we fix the green :D

Remember the k-mods are still and always free. Thanks to freely give a little something if you can. This is a massive piece of work and so, a massive piece of time ;)

If you think it’s good enough to drop our way : PayPal link

...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - > UPDATE ! February 25

We added few missing plants to the base game ( both lot & debug ) and some modifications to some plants ( azalea - hydrangea ) ... Some textures have been fixed. As we said, there will be adjustments and tiny updates. You know, a work in progress ;)

Tonight, a bit in advance, we release too :

k-707 ( 2025 ) for Sulani ( Island Living )

k-707 ( 2025 ) for Tomarang ( for Rent )

We know the gameplay bug related to for rent expansion but we finished trees & plants for this expansion, so better to release :)

By the way, as Windenburg and Britechester, Sulani will get a small k-505 redux quite soon. It won't be huge but it will correct details here & there. That was the Sunday late news and releases. Have a great week everyone !

Sorry for the delays but real world got massive changes and I confess I didn't have time to make more k-707 stuff this time ...

See you soon fellows :)

Download the K-707 mod HERE

...

[pillow-coded]

To Have and to Hold — Chapter 1

Summary: finding a lost toddler's mother in the library wasn’t how Spencer expected to spend his afternoon. Later, when her mother arrives—panicked, breathless, and beautiful—Spencer starts to forget how to breathe. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn Series (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Brief depiction of a lost child, mild panic from a parent, emotional vulnerability word count: 5.3k

A/N: This is the first work I had the guts to post (genuinely scared lol), slow updates! (so sorry, but uni is killing me), and lastly, English isn't my native language, so please do let me know if i got any grammar mistakes! (also not proofread cause i'm too embarrassed to show any of my friends)

Series Masterlist

Libraries have always been a great comfort for me. It’s a place full of knowledge, warmth, peace. Maybe it’s the smell of old books and how I can easily link that smell to the amiable parts of my childhood.

Those Autumn nights when everything was fine, where my wires were still intact. Mom was doing well back then. She’d read to me those old books she collected from all her years of teaching. That’s how I saw them back then... Old, decrepit books that contained the most fun stories... At least, I found them fun. Like Shakespeare’s Tales Retold – child-friendly versions of Shakespeare’s works.

Nowadays, they’re more than just fond stories or old books. Those books are relics and a memory of when my mother was... well, more lucid.

What I loved most about libraries was the quietness of it all. I spent a couple of hours of my day when I could, basking in the quiet. It was nice not to have to hear the gruesome details of some innocent woman murdered in cold blood.

Days like these only made the quietness feel even better. Soft Autumn day, nearing Winter already. We had just come back from a tough case, children were involved. Thankfully, we managed to get on time.

I had watched that boy while JJ tried to talk to him, trying to understand what had happened to him. He was barefoot, his hair disheveled, and he looked achingly thin. We later found that the boy’s parents held a “discipline ring.” According to his parents, it was a “behavior modification” experiment—one they claimed was “research-backed,” designed to “train” their child into being the perfect prodigy. The boy was denied food, affection, and even basic care when he disobeyed. But worse? The parents live-streamed it all on private forums for a group of like-minded “disciplinarians.”

It didn’t matter that we caught his parents. That the live-stream was shut down. That the others in that so-called “discipline ring” were going to prison. None of it mattered when he looked up at me with those eyes—hollow but obedient. Like love was something he still thought he had to earn.

I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone more than I hated those people.

I’ve done a lot of pretending in my life. Pretended I wasn’t scared. Pretended I wasn’t lonely. Pretended I didn’t want a family of my own. But that boy—he didn’t know how to pretend. He didn’t know how to fake normal. He just waited patiently in that hospital bed for someone to love him back.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it, which is why I had decided to come to the library instead of resting after the case like a normal person. I needed a moment of peace, a moment of quiet.

That moment of quietness was rudely interrupted—torn apart by high-pitched, desperate sobbing. I turn to my left, and there's a girl at the end of the long corridor full of bookcases. A tiny one at that, since the whole corridor looked gigantic compared to her.

She couldn’t have been more than five, barely tall enough to brush the second shelf. A statistical outlier in this ocean of silence, suddenly very, very loud. There was something unsettling about how her tiny fists rubbed at her eyes. Children cried in a language everyone understood.

“Are you lost?” I ask hesitantly, not moving from my spot in the corridor. The little girl stops crying for a brief moment. Well, not stop, but slowed down. Her big eyes are still so full of fear and tears, but they open wide to look at me as if she hadn’t been expecting someone to help.

She doesn’t say anything.

Just looks at me—eyes still shimmering, lips trembling, chest stuttering around hiccuped sobs. She’s scared. That much is obvious. But it’s the way she clutches the fabric of her little coat that really gets me. Like it’s the only thing tethering her to the earth right now.

I walk towards her. I'm not close—just close enough to show I’m not a threat. A non-threatening stranger in a cardigan and tie, kneeling among the books like I’m part of the furniture.

She stares, still trembling, still silent.

“It’s okay,” I murmur gently. “I’m not going to come closer unless you want me to. I just want to help.”

Her little hand scrubs clumsily at her cheek. She sniffles, her shoulders curling inward. Still holding it in. Still trying to be brave.

Then, finally—after a moment that feels like something unspooling—she shakes her head. And her voice, when it comes, is a soft, crumpled thing:

“I can’t find my mommy.”

I nod, matching her quietness. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

A pause.

“I’ll help you find her, alright? No rush. We can check the kiddie section together. That’s probably where she’ll look first.”

I didn’t offer my hand. It felt like too much for both of us. Instead, I walked beside her, slow and steady, letting the silence settle between us like soft dust. She kept sniffling quietly the whole walk down.

I desperately needed a way to make the little cries stop.

“What's your name, sweetheart?” I asked softly.

She tilted her head back to look up at me—really look this time. She was so small she had to crane her neck to find my eyes. Her expression still carried that flicker of uncertainty, her trust not quite earned yet.

“I’m Spencer.”

She doesn’t answer right away.

Just stares for a second, like she’s still deciding whether I’m safe. Then, in the tiniest voice—barely above a whisper—she says:

“...Maddie.”

Maddie.

I nod, repeating it once under my breath to make it real.

“That’s a beautiful name, Maddie.”

She says nothing, but her fingers curl tighter around the hem of her coat. She’s still scared, but she’s not looking away anymore.

Progress.

I scan the rows of shelves ahead. The kiddie section’s not far now—colorful bean bags, tiny chairs, picture books splayed on wide tables.

“Do you like magic tricks, Maddie?”

She nods her tiny head, her eyes warming up to me at the thought.

I felt something in my stomach… I wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe yearning?

She nods—just once—and I see it. That flicker of trust, like a light turning on behind her eyes. Not quite safety, but something near it.

And something stirs in my stomach.

I don’t know what to call it. It’s not adrenaline, and it’s not fear. Maybe it’s yearning. Not for her, necessarily—but for what she has. What she’s lost. What she’s looking for.

For someone to come back for her.

For someone to call her name.

“Okay… how about I show you some magic tricks while we wait for your mommy to get here? that sound fun, Maddie?”

This time she nods enthusiastically. Her big eyes excited to see what sorcery I had planned to show her.

I dig the pocket of my pants, my movements slow and deliberate. I pull out a simple quarter. It’s nothing special. Just a plain, shiny quarter that for some reason, I’ve held on to for way longer than I should’ve.

“Behold,” I announce, holding it up between two fingers like it’s enchanted. “A perfectly ordinary quarter.”

She leans in, captivated—eyes locked on the coin like it’s something rare. A small smile starts to tug at her cheeks.

“It’s your everyday quarter,” I say, twirling the tiny thing between my fingers, doing my best to keep this unfamiliar girl comforted—as if her calm is the only thing keeping me steady.

“Watch closely.”

I place the coin on my open palm and slowly close my fingers around it. Then, with my free hand, I give the air above my fist a little wave—like I’m stirring something invisible.

“And now… it’s gone.”

I open my hand. Empty.

She gasps.

I see it—the way her mouth falls open, the way her eyes light up like I’ve just rewritten the rules of the universe.

I lean in, just a little. Not too close.

“Huh. That’s strange…” I murmur, pretending to look around her, behind her, above her. “Where could it have gone…?”

And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, I reach behind her ear, and pull the coin free like I just plucked a star from the sky.

Her breath catches. She stares at the quarter in my fingers like it’s a miracle.

“It was behind your ear this whole time,” I whisper, grinning.

She beams at me, her fear momentarily forgotten. Her laughter is soft but real, bright and bubbly and innocent in a way that makes something sharp tug behind my ribs.

“Are you a sorcerer?” She asks, her big, curious eyes staring into my soul, trying to get answers out of me.

I blink, “A sorcerer?”

She nods, completely serious, “like the ones in Harry Potter.”

I chuckle fondly at her question, “Well… I don’t have a broom. Or a wand. Or an Owl.”

“But you made the coin vanish…” She pouts slightly, and although the sight of her minor pout was adorable, I would’ve given anything to see her smile again.

I didn’t know why. Maybe it was the case that had me feeling so fond of a child I just met. Maybe it got all the loose wires within me, all frayed and sparking from things I still hadn’t worked through. But there was something about this moment—this tiny human with tear-streaked cheeks and a Harry Potter reference—that made something ache deep in my chest.

I felt it so sharply it almost hurt.

This... this mattered.

And I hated how much I wanted it—interactions like this. Not just the comfort or the connection but the permanence. The possibility of something that was mine.

Kids of my own.

I glance down at her, still wide-eyed, still waiting for more magic. Her little hands twitch with excitement like she’s ready to believe anything I say.

“Yeah, but it’s only a magic trick, sweetheart,” I murmur, trying to offer the truth gently, without breaking the illusion. Without hurting her feelings.

But maybe I shouldn’t.

Maybe I should let her believe in it a little longer. Let her live in the dream. Give her what I wish someone had given me at that age—a reason to believe in wonder.

So I sigh, dramatically, like I’m about to confess something world-altering.

“Okay… you got me. But you can’t tell anyone, alright?”

She leans in, eyes shining.

“I’m actually a wizard.”

She gasps, delighted. A smile blooms across her face so fast it nearly knocks the air out of me.

“I knew it!” she squeals.

“Yeah, you did,” I grin back. “You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

She looks like she’s about to burst with thousands of questions. Eyes wide and shining with a special curiosity. I just hope her parent doesn’t murder me for fueling these wizard dreams that she has.

“Are you friends with Harry?”

I try my best to suppress a warm chuckle, but I can’t help the smile that shines through.

“Harry Potter?” She nodded so hard at my response that I worried her head might pop off. “Well… I haven’t seen him in a while. He’s mostly busy these days. But yes, we’ve met.”

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, and this time, I couldn’t subdue the fond chuckles that her reactions got out of me.

“Can you show me more magic?”

I smile, helpless to deny her. “Alright. One more, but you gotta sit down for this one.” I say, holding up a finger like I’m laying down a rule neither of us will actually follow.

She hurries to a small chair in the kid tables. Wiggles in place, hands clasped in front of her like she’s bracing for something incredible.

I reach into my pocket again, fingers brushing against the familiar coolness of the coin.

“But you have to pay very close attention, okay? This one’s advanced wizardry.”

She nods like she’s preparing for a test at Hogwarts.

“We have, the very same coin from earlier,” I move the coin to the center of my palm, “But if I place it right here… and you keep your eyes on it…”

I curl my fingers over it, give them a little dramatic wiggle.

“This simple quarter will just…”

Disappear. Or—it’s supposed to.

Everything was going fine. The coin’s in my palm. My fingers close around it. I make the usual gesture—slight misdirection, a practiced flick of the wrist, the classic illusion.

Except this time… something goes wrong. There’s a soft metallic clink followed by—

“Ow!”

Not me. Behind me.

The little girl’s eyes go wide, delighted at first by the trick. But then her head snaps toward the voice—the one behind me, the one that just yelped in surprise.

And just like that… the magic disappears.

“Mommy!” She takes off running.

I stand and turn instinctively, ready to reassure the parent—let her know her daughter’s safe, that I was only trying to help. Maybe even apologize for the quarter that, somehow, made impact.

But then I see her.

And for a moment… I forget what I was about to say.

She’s standing there, breathless, eyes wide with relief, and the softest kind of panic still clinging to her expression. The kind that says she’s been searching—not just through the aisles, but through every possible worst-case scenario in her head.

And yet, despite the tension in her posture, despite the flurry of emotion on her face...

She’s—God, she’s beautiful.

Like something from another lifetime. Light catching in her hair. Autumn caught in her breath.

An angel.

I’ve always thrived on routine. Wake up, brush teeth, get dressed, go fulfill today’s duties… It wasn’t anything exciting, but it was dependable. Familiar.

That all changed when I had her.

My Madelyn.

Now, my mornings depend on a dozen unpredictable factors. Maybe Maddie wakes up before I do and cuts my desperately needed seven hours of sleep short. Maybe she had a nightmare. Maybe she wet the bed. Or—more often than not—she’s just too excited for the day and bursts out of sleep like it’s a celebration.

It’s exhausting.

But she’s my entire world. My sun. My moon. And I’d sacrifice every ounce of sleep or peace of mind a thousand times over if it meant making her life feel safe and full of joy.

Still, we do have one day of the week that rarely breaks pattern.

Saturdays.

Every Saturday, for as long as I can remember, I wake up early, make pancakes, get dressed, and head to the library—the one place where time slows down, where stories open like doorways and the world feels just a little quieter.

Bringing Maddie into that routine was surprisingly easy. I started taking her when she was just a month old. I would’ve done it sooner, but I was still figuring things out—how to be a single mother to a newborn. Just surviving those first few days was its own kind of story.

She loves our Saturdays.

Every Saturday morning, once the pancakes are ready, I head to her room—and without fail, she wakes up with the biggest smile.

She always knows it’s Saturday because of the smell. Like clockwork, the scent of warm batter reaches her tiny nose, and her whole body just springs to life. She throws off her covers, races into the kitchen barefoot and beaming, already asking for her syrup before I can even plate the first stack.

This Saturday morning was different.

I should’ve known things would go wrong the moment I decided to step even slightly out of routine.

“Good morning, princess,” I sing, beaming as I step into her bedroom—blueberry pancakes in hand. “Brought you breakfast in bed. Aren’t you a spoiled little princess today?”

Her face lights up like it always does. “Good morning, Mommy!”

She spots the pancakes, and her eyes sparkle. She bounces a little beneath her blankets, already reaching for the plate. “Blueberry?”

I nod, smiling. “Well, I know how much you like them, so I decided to change things up,” I say, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “Alright, eat up. The library’s waiting for us.”

She hummed as she ate, little legs swinging off the edge of the bed, syrup smeared near the corner of her mouth. It was such a small thing, but I remember thinking—this is what happiness feels like. A plate of blueberry pancakes and a five-year-old who thinks I hung the stars.

We left a little later than usual.

Just ten minutes. That’s all.

She insisted on picking out her own outfit—a striped shirt and a pink coat—and I let her. Another tiny detour from routine. Nothing dramatic. Nothing dangerous.

The nearest library, which we were used to visiting, was a three-story building. It was old, but they kept it clean. The library had a huge variety of books, from Children’s books to cookbooks.

It was just as it always was. Quiet. Warm. A kind of sacred.

We walked in together. I remember holding the door open while she skipped inside.

I remember telling her—“Stay close, baby.”

she nodding.

And then…Then I blinked. I looked up from the shelves. And she was gone.

I’ve never lost my Maddie before. She’s a curious child, and she loves to wander off on adventures. She probably inherited that from me. This need to find whatever’s glowing. I understand it. We’re moths, both of us. Fragile, flitting things, always blinded by the glow, unaware that it might hurt us.

But I’ve gotten better at spotting the danger.

At least… when it comes to her.

I watch everything. Every step she takes. Every handrail she climbs. Every crack in the sidewalk I gently guide her around. Not even the tiniest fruit fly gets near her without me noticing. I make sure of it. I always make sure.

So how did I miss this?

how did I lose her?

“Maddie?” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. “Maddie, where are you, sweetheart?”

No reply.

Just silence. Just shelves. Just the sound of someone flipping a page somewhere far away.

I couldn’t see her.

I couldn’t hear her.

Panic bloomed in my chest, sharp and fast. I started moving—too quickly to think, too slowly to matter. I scanned every row, every corner of the first floor, spinning in half-circles, eyes darting, throat dry.

Think. You have to think. Breathe.

I forced myself to stop. Just for a second. Inhaled. Shaky. Exhaled. Useless.

That’s when I saw it.

A sign hanging above the staircase in soft, colorful letters:

Children’s Section – Second Floor.

I don’t think I’ve ever taken stairs that fast in my life.

I practically leapt two steps at a time, nearly tripping—twice—but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. My heart was pounding too hard, my breath caught somewhere between a prayer and a scream.

As soon as I reached the top, I heard it. Laughter. Soft, bubbling giggles echoing from the back corner of the floor.

Maddie. My sun.

I followed the sound like it was oxygen, rounding the shelves toward the children’s section—and there she was. She was fine. Smiling. Whole. Lit up with joy I hadn’t seen since breakfast.

I was so blinded by the sight of her—so completely caught in the gravity of that relief—that I didn’t see the small, shiny object flying straight at my face.

Thunk.

“Ow!” I yelped, instinctively pressing a hand to my forehead where the coin made impact.

“Mommy!” I blinked, still holding my forehead, and finally looked up to see my daughter running full speed to me.

I dropped my hand and opened my arms just in time, catching her as she flung herself into me.

The force of her little body nearly knocked the breath out of my lungs—and I didn’t care. I clutched her to my chest, my hands smoothing over her hair, her back, her arms—like I needed to physically confirm every part of her was still here.

Still mine.

“I was looking for you,” she mumbled into my shoulder.

“I know, baby,” I whispered. “I know. I’m here.”

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and only then—only then—did I let myself breathe. Let myself relax and look around with a clear mind.

And that’s when I saw him.

A man—tall, gangly, cardigan-ed, and completely mortified. His wide brown eyes darted from the coin in the floor, to my face and back again like he wasn’t sure which deserved more immediate attention.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t—I mean, the coin wasn’t… is your forehead okay?” His voice cracked halfway through the sentence. He reached down and took the quarter in his hands.

He was nervous. The poor thing couldn’t even get a full thought out without stuttering or switching pitch. He looked like a deer caught in headlights—in the most endearing way possible.

I adjusted Maddie in my arms and slowly rose to my feet, brushing a hand over the spot where the coin had hit.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “I’m okay.”

“Mommy, that’s Spencer. He’s a wizard, but you can’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.” Maddie’s little voice cut in, muffled by my shoulder. Her tiny hands clung to my shirt like this secret was sacred. Like this moment mattered.

“Is he now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

The poor man looked like he was about to spontaneously combust. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink, and he kept shifting like he wanted to disappear behind the nearest bookshelf. He was clearly mortified for making my daughter believe he was an actual wizard.

Meanwhile, Maddie looked like she might explode from sheer joy.

“He did magic, Mommy!” she beamed. “He made the coin disappear! And he’s friends with Harry Potter!”

I looked at him again—this tall, blushing stranger in a cardigan, holding a rogue quarter like it was evidence from a crime scene—and for the first time since the panic hit…

I smiled. No, not just that. I giggled.

“He’s friends with Harry Potter, sweetheart?”

“Yeah!” Maddie chirped, her little head nodding furiously against my shoulder. “He told me so!”

I glanced down at Maddie, still glowing with excitement in my arms, then back at him—this stranger with a guilty expression and a coin pinched nervously between his fingers.

“So you’ve met the famous Harry Potter?” I asked softly, more amused than anything else.

His mouth opened… then closed again. He looked completely out of his depth, like he wasn’t sure whether to defend himself or disappear behind the nearest bookcase.

“I… may have implied we’d met,” he said, almost apologetically. “In a—fictional sense.”

“Fictional,” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, eyes flicking anywhere but at me. “She asked if I knew him, and I just couldn’t say no. Plus, it calmed her down.”

My heart twisted, gently. Of course it did.

I crouched to set Maddie down, brushing a hand over her curls. “Don’t wander off, sweetheart.”

She nodded seriously—too seriously for someone who just believed she’d befriended a wizard—but she stayed put, her wide eyes still bouncing between me and the man standing awkwardly by the bookshelves.

When I stood, he was watching me. Not in a weird way. Just… watching. Like he wasn’t sure if he should say something, or leave before he embarrassed himself further.

I finally broke the silence.

“Thank you,” I said. “For keeping her calm. And for the magic tricks. Even if one of them involved hitting a complete stranger in the face.”

His eyes widened. “Oh my god—yes. I’m really sorry about that. That was not part of the trick. I swear it usually disappears. Like, away from people.”

I smiled again, gentler this time. “I believe you.”

A beat passed.

“You’ve got a very brave little girl.”

My chest squeezed.

“Yeah,” I whispered, looking over at Maddie, who was now spinning slowly in place, humming to herself like nothing had happened.

“She really is.”

I looked back again, and of course—despite being told not to wander—she had already drifted toward the toy shelf, her tiny fingers trailing along the edge of a plastic castle.

Moth. Always drawn to whatever glows.

He hadn’t stopped staring.

He kept looking at me like he wanted to tear me open—not in a violent way, but in that quiet, curious way. Like he needed to understand what made me me. Like he was trying to read my soul the way other people read books.

I hadn’t even noticed—Not until I turned my gaze back to him, and when I did, I nearly forgot how to breathe.

There was something behind his eyes—something searching. Gentle, but sharp. Not the kind of stare meant to intimidate. No, it was worse. It was the kind that saw. Saw too much.

The kind of look that made you feel like maybe you weren’t a collection of masks and moments. Like maybe you were a story he’d just opened to the first page.

It made my skin warm.

I looked away first. Not because it was uncomfortable—But because it wasn’t.

Because I didn’t know what to do with the way he looked at me like that. Like I was worth reading.

“So… she read the Harry Potter series?” he asked, breaking the silence.

His voice jolted me back to reality. I blinked a couple times, trying to shake myself free from whatever trance those hazel eyes had pulled me into.

“Has she read—? No, no. She still struggles a bit with reading. The only books she’s managed on her own so far are Frog and Toad Are Friends and The Tales of Oliver Pig.”

His lips twitched at that, like he was trying not to smile too hard.

“Do you mind me asking… how old is she?”

“She’s turning five in a couple weeks.”

He blinked. “And she’s reading at a first-grade level? That’s impressive.”

I smiled, soft and proud. “She’s always been a quick learner. Loves stories. I think it’s how she makes sense of the world.”

He nodded, like he understood that. Like maybe he did the same.

“So I take it she’s only seen the Harry Potter movies then?” he asked, circling back to his original question.

“Oh—no. I read to her a lot. We actually went through the entire Harry Potter series last summer.”

His eyebrows lifted, impressed. “All seven?”

“All seven,” I nodded. “It took us a few months, but she was completely obsessed. She didn’t want me to put the books down, not even to sleep. Had a million questions. Wanted to know why Harry had to live in the cupboard, how the time-turner worked, what butterbeer tastes like.”

He chuckled softly. “She sounds like someone I would’ve been friends with at her age.”

“You read a lot as a kid?”

He hesitated—not because he didn’t want to answer, but because he seemed to be sorting through too many memories at once.

“Pretty much all I did,” he said eventually. “Books were easier. Made more sense than people did.”

There was something in the way he said it—like it wasn’t just a fun fact, but a truth he’d learned the hard way.

I didn’t push. I just nodded, quietly understanding.

“Maddie’s the same,” I offered. “She talks to books like they talk back.”

He smiled at that. “That’s the best kind of kid.”

I was about to reply—to agree with the praise of my daughter, to maybe say something more—but then she came barreling back toward us, beaming.

“Mommy, Mommy! Look!” She held up a Rapunzel doll.

“Can I have her? Please? She has real brushable hair!” Maddie clutched the box to her chest like she’d just been entrusted with state secrets.

I chuckle, “That’s yarn, sweetie. You can’t brush it.”

“Can I have her? Please, Mommy?”

I looked at him, then at my daughter’s wide, pleading eyes. The panic from earlier was still fading in my bones, but the joy on her face grounded me again.

“Fine,” I said with a knowing smile. “Let’s check her out and ask if she’s ready for a new home.”

Maddie squealed and ran ahead toward the counter.

He straightened, glancing at me with the softest grin.

“She’s something else,” he said.

I met his eyes, the warmth still lingering between us.

“She really is.”

He smiled—soft, sheepish. A little unsure.

There was a pause.

My eyes flicked between him, the floor, and Maddie standing at the counter, rocking on her heels with the raggedy doll held up against her chest.

I didn’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was the way he spoke to her, so tender.

Maybe it was the way he panicked when I first approached them—all flustered and apologetic, tripping over his words like he hadn’t spoken out loud in days.

Maybe it was his eyes—big, toffee-colored, and far too curious. The way he kept looking at me like I was a puzzle he genuinely wanted to solve.

Despite everything in me that usually resisted introducing new people into our lives, I felt it—that pull.

I wanted to know him.

“I should get going,” he said, his voice low, like he didn’t really want to.

I nodded, even though something in me quietly hoped he’d stay just a little longer.

“Of course. Thank you again. For everything.”

He looked down, then back at me, like he was still trying to memorize something.

“It was… nice meeting you. Both of you.”

“It was nice meeting you too.”

He took a step back, then paused.

“I hope she keeps believing in magic,” he said, glancing toward Maddie with something almost wistful in his eyes.

“She will,” I said, smiling. “She has a good reason to.”

He didn’t say anything after that. Just smiled once more—brighter this time—before turning and walking away.

And even though I knew I’d just met him… I wanted to call out after him. Maybe invite him to eat with us, I had the pretense of him keeping my daughter safe. It would be so easy, just go, “hey wait!”

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Because despite having every reason to call out to him, to try and integrate him into my life, the fear in me always ended up eating my intentions up.

Still. I had a feeling that wouldn’t be the last time I saw him..

I stayed still for a moment, just watching him leave.

It wasn’t until he disappeared from view that I finally moved—walking to the counter where my daughter was waiting, still cradling her new doll like a prize.

“Where did Spencer go?” she asked, as soon as I appeared beside her.

Spencer. So that's his name.

It fit him, somehow. A little old-fashioned, a little too soft around the edges for someone who carried so much weight in his eyes. But now that she’d said it out loud, I couldn’t imagine him being called anything else.

“He had to leave, sweetheart.”

Her little face fell just slightly. “Will we see him again? I want to see more magic.”

I crouched beside her, brushing her hair back behind one ear as I pulled her into my arms. The weight of the day finally caught up to me—settling in my chest like something too big to name.

“Who knows, Maddie,” I murmured, holding her tight. “Maybe someday.”

I pulled back just enough to look her in the eye.

“I need you to promise me something, okay?”

She blinked up at me, her Rapunzel doll dangling loosely from one arm.

“Don’t ever wander off like that again. Spencer was kind, and he kept you safe. But not everyone is like him. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

She nodded, serious now. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

“I know, baby,” I whispered, holding her again. “I just need you safe.”

“I promise, Mommy.” She murmured.

“Thank you, honey.” I kissed her temple. “Now… let’s buy you this doll and go get something to eat.”

She grinned, her earlier worry forgotten, clutching Rapunzel to her chest like she’d just made a new friend.

We walked out hand-in-hand, the late morning sun spilling through the library doors as they shut behind us.

And even though I told myself it was just another Saturday…

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something else had quietly begun.

Next Chapter

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Masterpost and Prologue

dead on main fic, intro + four chapters.

Summary: The Red Hood starts off his righteous campaign with a lot of nerve but no legal identification that will let him behind the wheel of a car. Public transportation really doesn't have the panache he needs to start off as a fearsome crime lord, so he needs a driver. He finds Danny Fenton, a grungly college student trying not to be noticed by any government agencies or vigilantes.

to subscribe to this post, on mobile open the notes and click the bell on the upper right hand corner of the post. on desktop, open the notes at the bottom and press the bell on the right edge of the notes.

Links will be added to chapter list as the story posts. Chapter one will go up on July 14th. Updates are approximately every other day.

LINKS/ chapter count

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

prologue

“No, Habibi,” Talia said calmly into the phone. “I will not falsify you an American non-commercial driver's license for motor vehicles. If you cannot prove yourself to Gotham without American motor vehicle operating permissions, you will never prove yourself. Rise above this challenge.” Talia covered the phone for a second but he could hear her talking to someone else about tile options.

“It's an unnecessary challenge,” Jason argued, doing his level best not to let his tone go up. It was undignified to whine. He was a man now. “The important parts of the challenge are the tactical planning and the skills.”

Talia sounded like she was filing her nails. “Tactically plan to take the bus. Or walk. Walking is free and healthy.” 

Jason made an indignant sound but she mercilessly hung up. The worst! She made the top three of his worst mother figures, easily.

“She's just doing this so I can't go drinking.” He scowled into the air. “I don't even want to!” His voice broke mid whine, which was an insult to add to all the injuries visited upon him by the cruel whims of women who weren't even his legal guardian. He was an adult in most countries!

The worst part was that Talia didn't care about underage drinking. She just didn't want to hear shit about enabling him from Bruce when he eventually figured out that Jason was alive, 19, and in Gotham. His passport claimed he was 21 because it had to for him to travel alone, but she knew damn well no one used their passport as ID in bars. 

He couldn't just go get a license. Jason sulked viciously and threw himself into fixing his plans to accommodate for this. 

He was legally dead and living under a fake name. If he tried to sign up for the driving exam, it'd be too much scrutiny on his paperwork. But he was not taking the bus around as a crime lord. It lacked panache. More importantly, it didn't go where he wanted it to go.

Fine. He didn't need her help. He didn't need anyone's help. He just needed to download Uber. 

That was how Jason wound up wiping a mob lieutenant’s blood off of his hand onto his pants so that he could use the guy's touch screen phone. Victor Woodward's account put in a request for a ride to the Gotham police headquarters. He killed time kicking ass in all the Words with Friends games that Victor had ongoing, which was really gonna surprise anyone who normally played with that boob. Victor’s last ever play was ‘cat,’ for fuck’s sake.

A few minutes later, a skinny teenager pulled up in his clanker and opened the door. Jason put on a smile and hefted his duffle bag a little higher on his shoulder. 

“Hi! Victor?” The guy, Danny, waved his phone at Jason.

“That's me!” Jason lied breezily. “Can I put this in the trunk?” 

“Go for it.” Danny popped the trunk open from inside the car. He watched Jason with his big blue doe eyes.

For an instant, Jason thought that Danny might have seen something. Paranoia reared up. Was there blood visible? Was it easy to tell that the shapes in the bag were heads?”

The moment passed. Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Jason got in the car and let satisfaction wash over his body as the weirdly timid kid pulled them out into traffic at a snail’s pace. Whatever. They wouldn’t get stopped for a traffic violation when the driver was cautious.

He’d done it. His debut as the terrifying Red Hood, hunter of the wicked and bane of the Batman, was launched. And he didn’t need a license to do it.

[bonus-links]

Ahem, if I may impose.... Directors commentary?? 😁😁

YEAHHH lots to say abt this one

i know rule number one is don't point out the flaws in ur own work but i have to confess. i forgot to add hair highlights to this entire update. i didn't realize until i had already queued up the posts and i could not bear re-exporting and color correcting every page again. so i just let it be. it only kills me a little bit. they rlly add something y'know

i haven't seen a whole lot of comments about this to the point i worry i didn't do a good job of conveying it so: Loft's dream at the beginning is about ganondorf.

Loft has, in fact, chewed his nails to bits.

i'm gonna be so real, part of the delay for this update was bc my brain got so stuck on the logistics of where that damn bookshelf would go

korok bookends :D

i like to think the story of the hero of time is actually mostly an oral tradition on Outset, or at least that's how Gran Gran first told Link and Aryll the stories when they were children.

i worry a little bit about these 'lore recap" updates, bc like. I'm assuming you've played the games, or at least know the gist. but I feel like there's a few stories it's important for us to see Loft's direct reactions to, and the conclusions he draws from them, because it'll be important to his actions later. I try to make up for it by at least making these sections visually interesting HAHA i think this is the last major one though

on that note: I hope this comes across on its own, but Loft finishes Gran Gran's story himself because he's just realized the flood was sent by the gods, and not some external force of evil. he's also realizing that this is not the first time the gods have been willing to wipe the slate clean in the absence of a hero, and that it's actually something of a pattern. it runs up against his idea of how Demise's curse is meant to work. this is one such mystery mouseketool we'll use later.

also on that note: regardless of ganondorf's actions, i find it significant that the gods chose to destroy a man whose people suffered in a droughted desert with,,,,a flood. that thought was the conceit for this update

Loft has seen this play out in his dreams, but obviously doesn't fully know the context. also I'm gonna refer to this version of zelda as Sheik. he uses he/him pronouns thank you :-)

just wanted to show some closeups of the stained glass bc. i worked hard on them HAHA + the grayscale wip

i was really hoping this chapter would be done. last year. it was meant to be a chance to slow down for a second before the plot speeds up 😅 but we're nearing the last few updates!! thank you all for bearing with me <3 life has been kind of insane and extremely discouraging irl, so getting to post these updates and seeing you all enjoy them has been a real bright spot <333 special thank you to my patreon supporters bc. seriously it has helped more than you know.

i think that's all ive got for now! see you next time, hopefully sooner than 4-5 business months

[sundayeleith]

Ok I need to talk about the origin change and MC's uselessness and not very neutral description in the demo. I'll talk about the rest of the updated demo and the positive stuff in a later post. Here I want to at least reiterate concerns and criticisms others already expressed, and that I haven't shared here yet. It is very important to put this out there since there is sadly no feedback survey and so the devs know that a lot of us are bothered by the change and why.

Edit : I made another post to talk about the positive stuff right here !

For that, I do hope the devs open a feedback survey for the demo V2.

That said. Do not send hate to the devs, nor be hateful or insulting towards them. Criticism should always be respectful to the effort put into the work people have done and the people being it, as well as civil. Nor me nor others in the fandom want to see the patreon backlash hate wave be recreated ever again.

Before I start, I want to say I respect RSS and their work. As a backer, I can attest they are working hard on this game and show proof of it each update (or at least talk about it). I know they are doing their best to give us the best experience possible and put this banger game out there for everyone to enjoy. I do hope the devs will take these feedbacks to heart while understanding it comes from a place of love ✨ 🫶

/!\ Minor spoiler warning for the updated demo /!\

At first the background change was a good surprised. I was hyped. Also the general hype about the update itself had a part to play in it. As I was playing, it bothered me more and more up until I talked about it with others.

Cutting the Hound origin for the Exiled was a bad idea. Let me explain.

First of all, RSS used the Hound in the marketing of the game for the past 2 years minimum, including for the KS. It was also still present in the demo V1 for 2 years. Almost everyone who made fan MCs used the 3 origins as a framework/blueprint/prompt to shape their characters and backstory around, if not simply assigning one of the 3 origins to their OCs. People got not only used to it but after that much time had the time to build intricate lore around their characters. Cutting it like this so abruptly upset and overwhelmed a lot of people who just saw their storytelling of 2 years being discarded. For a lot of people, me included, TS is a mean for escapism and comfort, and also linked to usual fandom creative hobbies (art, writing, rp, cosplay etc...). So I totally understand the emotionnal distress some people felt.

Second of all, no one was warned and I think that it was not the best move. The origins are put in the forefront and made seem important by the dev team (emphasis on "seem", cause it's not so far). For the reasons above, at least communicating on it and asking the community for feedbacks about this change would have been better (and if not asking the whole fandom, asking the KS backers could have been an option).

Third of all, this change is useless in the current state of the game because MC was unchanged. Not only lines for the alchemist backstory are also on the 2 other routes (prob an error/bug), but why present a survivalist origin if MC still cannot fight at all ? In the demo V1 and V2, MC seem to be an after thought in writing, which is not bad in itself if not for the origins being put in the spotlight that much only to be the most useless choice of the game. Aside a handful of lines being changed there's no difference in how MC acts or interract with the world. It's not that big of a deal tbh, but then why present the origins as if it's going to bring major changes to the game when it doesn't (at least for now) ? Maybe it becomes more relevant in the full game, but that is an aspect of the game that should be noticeable from the start with how important they make the origin seem to be. Also I think they should either fuse Exiled and Hound OR bring back the Hound and flesh them out more (that's my opinion tho).

Then I have two other points that bothers me about MC. Their helplessness no matter the origin and the fact they are assumed to be small and dainty. What do you mean alchemist and houd/exiled MC cannot fight and get the whooping of their lives against a Soulless ? In a world that unforgiving I assume for the Alchemist to use spells and at least try to defend themselves and for the Hound/Exiled (esp the Exiled tbh) to know how to keep their ground in a fight with a Soulless. If Mhin can kill a Soulless that easily despite them being average sized and looking not that strong, then MC sure can too. I get that Mhin needs to be introduced but it doesn't need to be because MC is useless as hell. They could jump in not to miss on the bounty. Or cause MC could be in a tight spot and despite being able to win Mhin jumps in. I'm sure there's other examples too. Now on the size markers many people complained about in the past being unchanged is a bit of a shame. It could be easily fixed by removing any mentions of MC's size (esp with Ais, but with Kuras too that would be nice) or akin to the pronoun choice menu let people chose between at least 3 sizes (small, average and tall) and make dialogue changes according to that choice. Now, it's easier said than done which is why the first option is more feasible and the one I would chose (also, less work).

These issues aren't "that big of a deal", but the one about MC's size is actually the worst one. I know not everyone is under 6 foot not skinny. Sure the descriptions matche me and my MC, but wasn't it the goal to be inclusive ? Seeing friend mutuals and fellow fandom members yet again not feel represented and acknowledged in a game they love when they already have so little representation is sad to say the least. I stand in solidarity with you guys, and your concerns about this are valid. I know that RSS didn't do that to be malicious, but it is time in 2025 to truly keep everyone in check in terms of inclusivity (again, no hate while doing so else it's just bullying)

[thatoneweirdgirl17]

Okay I came up with this at work because I was left alone with my thoughts for 10 hrs.

Imagine a feyd x single mom reader except the baby is Paul’s. Reader used to be a servant in caladan and eventually her and Paul messed around, she approached lady Jessica in confidence for help but instead got sold off because Paul getting a servant girl pregnant was not part of her plan. Later feyd kinda saves reader from the a-hole who bought her but in reality he was there to kill the guy for betraying the baron and saw reader and decided he wanted her. He finds out she’s already pregnant but instead of killing her of getting rid of her he kinda hides her away so he can have his own secret lil family (maybe as a way to cope with the childhood that was stolen from him). Feyd has his harpies protect and hide her and the baby and over time the girls bond (baby is having the worlds most protective and feral aunties). Eventually reader tell feyd who the baby’s dad is and explains how she ended up at the a-holes house. Feyd finds the situation hilarious but still decides to protect reader and raise the baby as his own (not really out of love but more as a jab at Paul like haha I have your toys but they do eventually grow to care about each other, maybe not love but definitely a codependency). When the baby is born he immediately becomes attached to her (I must protect this tiny creature) which is a new emotion to him.For a couple of years baby girl grows up seeing feyd as her dad. Eventually the events of dune happen and right before Paul is about to stab him, feyd says something along the lines “ go ahead and kill me in front of your daughter”. Paul is understandingly confused until a lil 4-5 year old comes running out to feyd screaming daddy and using the voice to make Paul back off. Everyone can instantly see who her biological father is since she has his hair, eyes and is able to use the voice. Feyd would definitely have a shit eating grin when Paul learns that his mother is the reason his daughter grew up without him. Paul tries to approach her but she turns her head and says to feyd “daddy I wanna go home” and Paul’s heart just breaks at the realization that he lost his daughter before he even knew about her. Paul can’t kill Feyd since he would loose his daughter even more and they basically create a custody agreement where Paul can come and visit her every month.

Please if someone turns this into a fic tag me so I can read🙏

Edit: I am planning on writing this out but give me some time since it will be my first fanfic since high school

@dreamlandcreations @triluvial @austinbutlerslovers @sansaorgana @purejasmine @sebastianswallows

Update

I finally had time to start writing this and although it’s my first fic I’m really proud of it. I ended up making a second account with the intent to only post fics there to make things easier for myself. If you’re interested in reading I’ll add a link under this.

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

Good Omens - Fanfic recs for March 2025 - Part 1 🤓👍

Follow along for short summaries and recs on the books i read🩷 The numbers are for funsies - i want to count my reads throughout 2025.

I only read finished stories and one-shots. You will find no WIPs in here. Also you will only find happy or at least hopeful endings here - i couldn´t handle anything else.

Also i try to find every author here on tumblr to link-to, but some times i am out of luck. If you happen to know them, please tell them, write to me in the comments or DM me and i will update the post!

Ratings in ()

Multichapterfics

36] Hired Heart (E) by @gaydemonicdesaster

Human AU: Aziraphale is 50, runs his bookshop, he has only recently discovered he is gay - and now he wants to explore. But of course it wouldn't be our beloved angel, if he didn't want to study first. Build some knowledge and confidence. So when his friend Agnes suggests contacting a high class escort, this seems like a good idea. You'll never guess, who this red headed escort might be. 😉 I have actually read that one already a year ago, but stumbled upon it again. A nice and hot fic with zero angst and stress in it, perfect to relax and unwind.🌶️🌶️🌶️

37] Heaven Sent (E) by @captainblou

Human Au, Crowley is an escort (yes, again 😆) and meets his patron Aziraphale. Now there are certain rules to working in this business ... And somehow this shy and lovely man makes it impossible for Crowley to stick to them. 🌶️🌶️🌶️

38] Shut up and kiss me (E) by @valesyart

Set after S2. When Aziraphale left, Crowley went to sleep. But his dreams somehow become more vivid than usual. As the author puts it: "porn with plot" 😉🌶️

39] Be Still, My Love, Be Still (E) by @entanglednow

Human AU - though not altogether ... After the fire in the bookshop, Aziraphale is set on replacing lost books. When he gets a new shipment of them, there is a small sketch-book inside with drawings of plants and flowers. And somehow the bookshop suddenly seems to be haunted by a ghost. Or more precisely, a sleep paralysis demon. 🩷

I so love this story, it is sweet, it is spooky, it is heartbreaking and it is hot. This is my absolute favorite of my march-readings and you should definitely try it!

40] Bleating Hearts (E) by @hkblack

Human AU, Dr. Aziraphale Fell is an English Literature lecturer, specified in Shakespearean works. When one day he finds a goat in his office, he is only even more surprised by the questions the handsome goat herder asks him. 🐐

A sweet fic with only a small amount of angst but a pageturner nonetheless. It is rated E but I estimate the plot-smut-ratio at probably 99:1 and the smut is skip-able. The banter and the goats are adorable! 😍

41] If you want to be bad (E) by @curiouswriterkr

Human AU, starting off in secondary school. When Crowley has a car crash, it's Aziraphale of all people to help him out. Crowley wants to thank him, but apart from helping him, Aziraphale doesn't want to have anything to do with him. Because Crowley and his gang are bullies. Years later, they meet again. But Crowley isn't the man he used to be.

Lots of pining, only a little bit of angst. 🫠 It is rated E but there is only one scene.

Oneshots

42] Such a comfort (T) by @SpectrallyDistracted

Set somewhere after S3/the second coming, Crowley wakes in the middle of the night to Aziraphale having a nightmare - again. It's been the same nightmare for years. Only this time his angel agrees to tell him about it. 🩷

43] The Tide rolling in (E) by @scullyphile aka @brenna

Crowley and Aziraphale take a walk on the beach. When Crowley asks Aziraphale what he would wish for if he could have anything, he is lost for words.

44] Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost (G) by @theoldaquarian

A collection of reviews on Crowley's flat, which has been let as an Airbnb.

This was actually the second time i read this story. What makes this one so funny is that we all know stuff about our angels, but of course to an outsider a lot of things might appear ... Strange. Very 🤣

45] Forever is for the morning (G) by @great-pan-is-dead

Set after the end of S1, an angel and a demon decide to take a nap in the bookshop. Just before dropping off each of them thinks about how different they'd imagined it.

So that's 45 fics so far, plus I read a thriller outside of GO this month, so I will count on from 47 next time for my little project. 🥳 As always, share the love with kudos, repostings and author-taggings in case I missed someone!

A friend of mine gifted me this sentence yesterday:

fanfiction is my happyplace. 🩷

[heliosunny]

Hello 👋 🌱✨️

I've been reading your lucky egg series, and I wanted to ask more about the lore.

I am in love with the series, and while reading the jing yuan lucky egg fic, I wanted to know if the characters were isekaied and if they can also see the affection bar like Jing Yuan could?

I also read the yandere jy x character reader fic and wondered if the reader from the lucky egg series is the favourite character of each hsr guy, and that's why they are so attached to the reader from the start?

I hope I'm making sense, but if not, I apologise!

First of all, thank you for reading LuE series.

When I first wrote Lucky Egg I didn't think much, just a funny idea of Hoyo's men spawning from a gacha egg you got. I mean we're all addicted into gacha games. So the lore was pretty simple: you got an egg, it hatched, +1 partner.

But then, to make the character spawn from the egg stay loyal to their story and ability in game, I have to expand the lore (Of course they belong to another universe/place and something must've happened so they're forced to- okay maybe Imma leave this for later/or your imagination :3)

As for whether the characters can also see the affection bar like Jing Yuan could, they can. Some acknowledged that but refuse to check, some didn't know about it (yet).

For the last question, reader from the game and reader from the LuE are not the same person. The reason why Jing Yuan from LuE was attached to the reader so much can first be explained through the bond from the egg as I mentioned in some very first fics (like baby duck syndrome) and because of the previous life before they got into the form of the egg. There are other factors but that depends on each egg. If I continue to explain, it'll confuse you more. And since I want my readers to think of every possible outcome, I often left my fics with Open Ending.

Oh, one final thing is that people do send me messages to urge me write a second part for a specific LuE. I won't do that~ I love to see you imagine what would happen later on~

I think that's all for now, if there are any changes or updates, Imma edit this post. Ofc I'll put a link to this in the Masterlist post.

[hugsandchaos]

Danny Phantom Related Masterlist

•Ghost blobs!

•Dash is a human sacrifice

•Ectomelons

•Great Cub

•Ember has been kidnapped

•If Small, Why Sink?

•FrostDad

•Not So Scary (Coming Soon!)

DP x Linked Universe

•Explenation

•Short headcanon list

•Memes, anyone?

•More memes

•He jumped?!

•Uhh not sure what to call this

•Okay, this is probably the last string of memes

•I lied, here’s a few more

•It’s just one meme

•Another idea

•Cooking

•Incorrect quote that I just tossed out there (we appreciate you trying to help, Hyrule)

•Late night thoughts

•Studying and Manatees

•No caffeine?! Criminal!

•Introducing Vlad

•Another Incorrect Quote

•”Danny, get out of the closet!”

•Lord Of The Dark Birds

•A couple more incorrect quotes

•Soup Time

•LBM!

•Picking locks

•Who’s Dash?

•Dash? What are you doing here?

•Singing equals spells??

•Comfort in the chaos

•Wing bois rant

•More Little Baby Man

•How are they not banned??

•Dungeons

•Meme anyone?

•Summoned!

•That time Danny picked up Time

•Danny is the youngest sibling

•Everlasting Trio!

Oneshots

•”He’s in the walls...”

•Astrophilia

•April 3rd Special! :D

Prompt Week (List Coming Soon!)

Story Chapters: Eudaemon (Now on Ao3 too! :D)

•The Beginning

•Proper Introductions

•Dawn Of The Second Day

•Magical Meal

•Day 3

•Where Do Stars Come From?

•Quick update

•Creepy Conclusions

•Ghost Boy, Where Art Thou?

•Alexa, Play Mission Impossible

•Hungry For Answers (Coming soon!)

Ao3 Link!

•Sneak Peek! (Updated October 30th)

•Orbit!

Beautiful art by @nerdypear4 here, here, here, here, and here too!

•Quick vote

DP x Marvel Universe

•Loki’s cape

•”Hey, Ron.” “Hey, Billy.”

DC x DP Prompts

•Accidentally Blessed

•Phantom Forest

•A Ghost Boy and His Wolf

•Tired Haunt

•Early Hero Gets The Adoptee

•Family Reunion

•Loki’s cape

•More Wulf!

•Watchtower Ghost

DC x DP Headcanons

•Reasons to not trust the Justice League

•”Really? This guy?”

Seeing Double

Young Justice x Danny Phantom

Summary: A ghost who looks a lot like Phantom comes to him in search of protection, and their newest member instantly agrees. He calls her his little sister, and sooner or later, Phantom also might end up with a new brother.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Friendship is Haunting

Mlp x Danny Phantom AU

•What if?

Prologue

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

DP Unnamed AU

PenPals AU

Halfa Dash AU

•First post

•Quick talk about how Danny suffers in this AU

•How Dash became a Halfa

•Phantom’s soft spot

•LBM!

•Memes

DP x TF

•Ideas!

The Thing In The Dark

•??? (Work In Progress)

[shiny-jr]

Dear author, I’m so sorry that someone plagiarised your work especially since you work so hard on your stories 💔😞

We want to help the plagiarised book get taken down so can you please share the link?

If enough people report, the fanfiction site admins will finally listen and take down the plagiarised book, instead of the plagiarism claim being buried.

I hope this issue gets resolved quickly and I hope you have a better day.

UPDATE! Based on this and that and also this.

Thank you, anon. I appreciate your words, but as I stated in one of my previous posts, Wattpad reports are finicky. I believe at this point, we're at day thirteen of dealing with this plagiarizer and day four of it being public and yet despite it all, the plagiarizer has still yet to budge.

So, I thought I'd give another update and give the information we discovered in our findings. As to what we know is copied and from who. Keep in mind, one of these four copies stories has already been taken down and done with. I'll specify which in a moment.

Before I proceed, if you happen to be one of the original writers mentioned in this post and you want your portion removed from this post for whatever reason, let me know. I do not want to upset anyone, except the plagiarizer. At this point in time, I care little for their feelings on the matter when they've had plenty of time to make things right.

The plagiarizer: Kristynaka1

FIRST.

Obviously, the first story that was discovered was mine, with all the information linked in the posts at the very top. I was made aware of this by the inbox from a kind reader. Ever since then, I've been dealing with this plagiarizer.

My mutuals and I found it weird that somehow, the plagiarizer had relatively good grammar with few mistakes in the story. Yet every little note or message they sent, had many spelling mistakes and was sometimes difficult to read. It was inconsistent and strange, and we couldn't make sense of it until we had a theory which some readers in the comments here have already suggested. We theorize that the plagiarizer began to use AI.

Of course, we can't prove this but how else would a user who can't format and type proper messages be able to write whole paragraphs that are actually legible and understandable?

ChatGPT was available to the public sometime in 2022. Before 2022, many of their "stories" were copy and pastes from Tumblr. After 2022, there were differences in the copied stories that made it harder to find the original story and connect it to the original writer. Differences in writing that I doubt the plagiarizer wrote themselves if we go by their messages like:

So yeah. Onto the evidence.

SECOND.

After a few days, one of my mutuals began to suggest searching for the origins of other stories as they doubted any of the posts belonged to the plagiarizer. Low and behold, we found three others. The first of which belonged to @monst and their post. Just by comparing the first paragraph was enough to confirm that.

I won't go into too much detail as the links pretty much say all you need when you actually look at the evidence.

THIRD.

Not even an hour later, we found the second copied story from that oneshot book. Thankfully, there were only two stories there, so there aren't any more copied parts from that series they claim is theirs. The original is @ppsycho and their post. This one again looks like a direct copy, even the image is the same.

FOURTH.

This is the one that was already deleted, thankfully. So there is not many good screenshots I can present, except one before it was gone. So the original writer is @mint-yooxgi and their post.

Here is the only screenshot I have of the wattpad version, just to showcase that it did in fact exist, and it was copied.

So yeah, that's everything for now. If you check out the plagiarizer's profile and recognize the other stories I did not name, please let me know. We thought we found one of them on Quotev, but it wasn't.

Please continue commenting discouragements and reporting the account!

I think I'll leave this off with something I typed last night in a chat:

In whatever way this ends, know that it will end badly for the plagiarizer. They can choose to ignore, but that won't make everything go away. People will remember, I will remember. If they go radio silent and try to forget everything but keep the stories up, comments will still be there. If they try to delete the comments, new comments will just be made. The comments will serve as warnings to others that might stumble across their account, and it will immediately make them click off the account or story because no one wants to read a plagiarized story. The account we see now will just be empty of real readers, so it will remain a miserable little place where each comment will serve as a reminder as to why plagiarism is bad.

Even if they do decide to delete and make another account yet again, whether they decide to copy the same stories they did before or pick entirely new writers to prey upon, it doesn't matter. Readers will either recognize them from before or new readers will notice the plagiarism taking place. It doesn't matter what they do. They will be found and dealt with in some way, shape, or form.

I hope those two or so years of small internet fame were worth it while they lasted.

[astarionancuntnin]

here's my masterlist with everything i've written! note that:

all fics are explicit and astarion x fem!reader unless specified

series and multichapter fics have their masterlist linked with all chapters and ao3 links

one-shots/requests will have their main theme mentioned in parentheses next to the title, and the full lists of content warnings are available on their linked post/ao3 page

Requests: OPEN!

Current pending requests: 4

- i am more comfortable writing astarion (spawn or ascended) and halsin, but im open to get out of my comfort zone and write other characters! - however, I won't write gale. I'll finish up my last requests for him and won't take new requests for the wizard. - i write in third or second POV (more experienced with x reader/tav) - comfortable with most types of writing (fluff, smut, angst, hurt/comfort) - i am willing to go extremely dark and kinky (basically ask and if its above my limit ill tell you, but if ive already written about it, im cool with it) - send an ask and ill get started on it! (i am quite busy recently, but i promise to get around to your request sooner rather than later)

fics are posted in chronological order of creation

this list will keep getting updated as i upload more

full list below the cut!

she was a wildfire that couldn't be tamed; he was the night star admiring her ruthless dance

Undisclosed Desires (Denial of feelings, rivals to lovers) (part 1)

Masterlist

astarion and you, along with your other companions, have been traveling together for a few weeks now. he gets on your nerves at least once a day. but as much as you hate to admit it, your late night activites are plagued by him. little do you know, hes aware of the effect he has on you and intends to use that to his advantage.

Bad Blood (Mature, Angst, follow up fic to Undisclosed Desires, Astarion POV) (part 2)

Masterlist (not posted yet)

it was meant to be a nice, simple plan. get the sorceress to fall in love with him to assure his safety. what he didn't plan was to fall for her as well, and all the complications that came along with it.

A Lesson in Taming Your Dark Consort

(all fics in this series are one-shots that surround the dynamic between Ascended Astarion and his consort Malva (my oc evil tav), heavily BDSM driven)

Taming a Tempest (spanking, semi-public sex)

oh, to be the Vampire Ascendant's dark consort. to have eternity and enhanced powers right at her finger tips - only to be denied. but two could play this game, and Malva would make Astarion regret witholding anything from her.

read on ao3

read on tumblr

Dancing on the Edge of a Knife (knife play, orgasm denial)

ever since his ascension, Malva was convinced that Astarion was the only person who could understand her every twisted desire. well, almost. there are some things she still keeps to herself, he simply wouldn't understand this part of her, the one who dances on the very edge of her knife.

read on ao3

read on tumblr

Just a Peak (voyeurism, JOI)

left on her own to leisure along the walls of the palace during yet another flamboyant soirée, malva stumbles upon a scene more interesting than the shady deals exchanged on the dancefloor, and allows herself to dance on her own as she spies on the most delicious scene hidden in plain sights. that is - until her lord senses her pleasure and decides to join in.

WIP - TBD

Contributions to Angels of The Night Collection

Magnum Opus (Malva Introduction/backstory)

Die For You (Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, Ascended Astarion) Completed work!

contains some Shadowheart x fem!reader

Masterlist

the ascension changed the person Astarion was, or so you believed. you broke up and parted ways after defeating the netherbrain, thinking it was for the best, but when you see him again 6 months later at the reunion, you realize you never truly moved on. and neither did he.

Meet Me In The Woods (predator/prey)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

it's astarion's turn to keep watch for the night. everyone's off to bed and he's still gone hunting and nowhere to be seen. you refuse to be the one to fill in for him again, so you venture into the woods looking for where he was last seen.

Midnight's Embrace (weed, polyamory)

astarion x female!reader x halsin

read on ao3

read on tumblr

you can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep. your fight with the nether brain is approaching fast and your anxiety is only increasing. halsin proposes to try a special brand of herbs to alleviate your mind. turns out this herb also awoke something else in you.

Nothing But A Dream (somnophilia)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

you've agreed to take things slow with astarion, only partaking in nighttime activities when he specifically desires them, and this morning, he wants you. but he would hate to intrude on your precious beauty sleep.

Run, Little Fox (predator/prey, hate sex, mildly dubious consent)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

this brat of a rogue questioned your leadership one time too many, it is time he learns his place, and youll do it the only way he'll listen to you: with a challenge. if you win, he will be held accountable for his actions, but if he wins, he gets to use you every night. it doesn't matter anyway, you'll win... won't you?

Public Display of Affection (A!A, jealousy, semi-public/loud sex, hints of voyeurism feat. Gale)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

his consort - his beautiful, too kind for her own good - forever young lover. she was his, and his only, and he believed it was long overdue to make that statement clear among the rest of their group. after tonight, the only name spiling from her luscious lips would be his.

Death is Not an Escape (Mature, Dead By Daylight AU, heavy angst)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

it wasn't supposed to end like this, they were supposed to get out and defeat the absolute - together. but as a dark fog swallowed them whole, their fates changed drastically.

The Ways of Worship (Priest/Modern AU, Corruption)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

this faith was all you've ever known. so when you wake up a morning with the dreadful feeling that you've lost it, you do the one thing that makes sense - confess to your local priest. when he offers his guidance with the promise of making you whole again, you accept without a second thought. your first lesson begins tonight.

Remember Me (Angst, Audio adaptation)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

you can't make sense of where you are or even how you ended up in this cell - hells, you're not even sure of who you are at this point; any memories of your past are a blur. it's all the more confusing when a group of adventurers come to rescue you, and a particularly worried pale elf takes it upon himself to help you remember who you are.

Silent Night (Somnophilia, Heavy Non-Con, Breeding)

gale x tav

read on ao3

read on tumblr

gale's one dream with Tav is to have a family - something she's been teasing for too long now. something gale is done denying himself. tonight, whether she wants it or not, he'll make her the mother of his children.

sleeping next to astarion

A!A's children

your short future with astarion

A!A being possessive of his consort

reflection on revenge with astarion

astarion caring about you

[would-you-punt-them]

Anyway some new updates on the Beast situation were made. Not going into specifics but a few of the things Dogpack was going into were either fabricated or slightly manipulated. Obviously this doesn't change what Jimmy did is still shady

Yeah, I've been seeing people saying that, so I'm guessing this is about SoggyCereal's 90-minute video "exposing" DogPack from 4 days ago.

But having seen the video, I think it is itself ridiculously manipulative in a lot of ways, and as of right now I'm hesitant to consider the source trustworthy.

In the final third of the video Soggy flies out to America and goes to MrBeast HQ in North Carolina to conduct some interviews with current employees who used to work with DogPack. He also later admitted that a MrBeast employee paid for his international flight.

These interviews take place in a room at MrBeast HQ, with people who are currently working for the company.

In other words, SoggyCereal contacted MrBeast and requested an interview with employees who worked with DogPack for his YouTube video responding to DogPack's specific talking points and calling him a liar for an hour and a half.

So, MrBeast prepared an interview space in their headquarters (with professional lighting, sound, and cameras all set up) and hand-picked some of their current employees to give pre-prepared anecdotal evidence that they thought DogPack was a douche who made them uncomfortable, and then heavily-edited snippets of these interviews featured in the video.

Soggy did an interview himself the next day (it's also where he revealed his flight was paid for) where he insisted that these employees weren't selected and the interviews were fully unbiased and unprepared, but that is impossible to believe. As far as I'm concerned, this entire portion of the video can't be trusted.

But unsurprisingly, MrBeast has been pushing this video like crazy. Multiple drama YouTubers (including Pyrocynical and Spill Sesh) have revealed that Jimmy had personally messaged them with a link to the video, and encouraged them to cover it.

People have been theorising that this whole thing is part of a ploy by the MrBeast company, who knew that this positive video was being made. The suspicion is that the MrBeast company had employees reach out to SoggyCereal and supply him with "evidence" that discredits and slanders DogPack.

He even managed to get a hold of the full audio recording of DogPack being fired, where he begs for his job back. He presents this as proof that DogPack is a disgruntled employee, like what MrBeast's PR team have been implying.

Okay, but like... how in the hell would he gain access to that kind of sensitive information? He doesn't cite any kind of source, he doesn't even claim it was an anonymous leak. He also gives a lot of other very specific behind-the-scenes information that disprove various individual claims made by DogPack, even claims that were mentioned for like five seconds in DogPack's original video.

In contrast, Coffeezilla, who was making a video on the allegation that Jimmy has been conducting fraudulent crypto scams (it came out 5 days ago), reached out to MrBeast repeatedly to fact-check, and MrBeast refused to reply, other than with a single statement from their legal team. MrBeast hasn't responded to any other allegation publicly. And yet SoggyCereal suddenly has access to a mountain of insider information and full cooperation from MrBeast. It seems likely they're using SoggyCereal as a mouthpiece to slander DogPack while avoiding making any kind of statement themselves.

Jimmy also commented on SoggyCereal's video itself on the day it was first posted, even though it still only had a couple thousand views at the time.

He later deleted that comment, because it's just a terrible look, and supports what we already knew: that Jimmy was well-aware that this video was about to come out.

There are legitimate reasons to criticise DogPack, as he has made serious errors over the course of this drama, a lot of which he has acknowledged (including the James Warren thing, which he was rightfully criticised for heavily).

And this video shouldn't be discounted in its entirety, as it has raised some questions about DogPack. It does expose some worrying factual inaccuracies in the major accusations, and does seemingly expose some shady behaviour on his part. So, those points are valid (although I do consider the way Soggy presents them as manipulative).

But people have been saying (mostly in clickbait titles) that this somehow exonerates MrBeast, when that couldn't be further from the truth. That's just how drama YouTube works. To get people's attention, there has to be a hero and a villain. Either everything DogPack and Rosanna say is true, or nothing is and they should burn in hell. There is no middle ground.

As it stands, take any of the clickbait tweets, videos and articles saying anything has changed with a grain of salt.

That's all this is: clickbait.

In my opinion, the situation hasn't changed significantly. The main takeaway is that MrBeast is even more desparate than we thought.

[felassan]

Jeff Grubb said the following a few hours ago on his show, Jeff Grubb's Game Mess, "Perfect Dark and Summer Game Mess update":

"But, for Dragon Age: Dreadwolf, that, this is one that I've mentioned before, is coming out this year [2024]. And, hey, will it be at the Summer Game Fest or around that time? Yeah, they've said that themselves over at EA, so that's not some thing from me, that's them, but, I, that would be my expectation because, yeah, still sounds like that game is coming out later this year. So, where would they announce it other than Summer Game Fest? They could hold their own thing, but my expectation is they'll have - well, if they hold their own thing, I think it will be part of the Summer Game Fest orbit, so that's what I mean, like, Summer Game Fest or somewhere else. This point, it seems like we should see that game at Summer Game Fest, or around that time, and they should have all of the details for that thing, because, everyone seems really happy with that game. They're pretty pleased with how it turned out. And the plan is to launch that this calendar year, so not EA's Fiscal year, not before March 2025 or anything like that, this year, and I don't think you're gonna have to wait too long after this thing gets announced to play it. But we'll see. We'll see for sure here pretty soon. As it stands, I'm just gonna say, coming out this year. I have it on my Fantasy Critic draft, like, it's one of my games, because I'm pretty sure it's coming out this year."

[source, two. the second source link is the original video, with timestamp]

(bolded emphasis mine).

there were no further mentions of DA:D or BioWare in the video.

-----

SGF timings & events info:

June 7th 2024: Summer Game Fest 2024 opening live show. 2pm PT / 5pm ET / 9pm GMT. A 2 hour ‘what’s next in gaming’ showcase streaming live. I think Summer Game Fest 2024 itself runs from then til June 29th, with the majority of events happening by June 13th [?]. The Xbox Showcase and the PC game showcase are happening on June 9th. Also it’s rumored that in May 2024 PlayStation will be doing a showcase or state of play event. in the video linked above Jeff commented on the PS event as well, saying, "I still think the May [PS] showcase is happening, I think it's a showcase, still could be a State of Play or some event of some sort, but probably a showcase."

-----

edit/update: post has been tidied up and the word for word transcript added.

[morbethgames]

The Final Part of Chapter 4 Mostly Is Now Live!

So, you guys are probably wondering what the mostly is about. Simply put, there’s a subroute in the final part that I still need to write. Not very long, it won’t be too big of a deal later on, but this scene was blocking me hard. After working on it for 2 months straight I just wanted to move on. Needless to say, if I had to write one more set of variations for how the PC fights the suspect, I was going to go insane. That being said, it is all mostly there. There’s simply one greyed out option is all. I’m going to come revisit this scene when it’s more fresh to me again and when I don’t have to push myself so damn hard and force myself to write it. Along with the final part, I’ll probably be adding a bit more variation to it in general. But, now that that’s out of the way, let me get to the patch notes!

Patch Notes:

Added most of the rest of Chapter 4, which includes another Text Box Investigation Scene!

Added an unlockable extra story of Ryder’s PoV before the after funeral scene.

Multiple gender variable mistakes have been fixed.

Fixed a mistake where Alvarez and Ryder were being referred to as ‘mommy’.

Added a small dialogue variation to Ryder’s train scene where, if you’ve already talked to Alvarez, the PC won’t ask Ryder to clarify details about Alvarez’s age.

Added a small dialogue variation to the talk with Hawks in Dennis’ Office where, if the PC didn’t answer the phone for their brother in Chapter 2, it will reflect that choice.

Fixed the error on my part where the hoplite in the painting in Hawks’ office was being referred to as ‘Roman’ instead of ‘Greek’.

Fixed a bug where, if you chose to talk to Lance first on the train, it wouldn’t give you the option to talk to a second person.

Thank you all so much for sticking with me while I’m pumping this stuff out! It feels like such a weight off my shoulders to be able to just moved on from this scene, and to give myself the room to just come back to it later. Expect the Patreon to pick back up to two posts a week again as I get to start writing all the in between stuff for Chapter 4.5! If you like this story, and you want to support either me or this story, head on over to my Patreon where you can get an early look at extra stories, audiobook readings of this story and other IF’s, original short stories with original characters, and so on.

Patreon Link ←

We’re getting close for sure everyone. Hopefully, bare minimum, by the end of the year, this story will be completed. I’m excited, scared, and worried all at the same time.

Thank you all again so much for sticking with me.

Stay Brilliant, -Vi

Demo Link: https://dashingdon.com/play/morbethgames/the-bureau-wip/mygame/

The Bureau forum page: https://forum.choiceofgames.com/t/wip-the-bureau-chapters-1-3-550k-total-words-updated-03-14-2024/99993

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances: Forever - Part Twenty-Three of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in the grocery store brought a whirlwind of change to Beau Arlen’s life—change he had no issues with whatsoever. A second chance at life, love, family—a second chance at forever. Word Count: 7,905 Tags/Warnings: Sweet fluff, angst, medical drama, pregnancy drama A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

NOTE: Please see THIS LINK for updates on the posting schedule! Thank you! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Twenty-Three: Circling The Pack

The early morning sun spilled through the kitchen windows in wide, honey-gold bands, casting long shadows across the counters and bathing the space in quiet warmth. It was still early—just past seven—and the house, for once, remained still.

Beau had taken Eliza and Caleb out for a morning walk, giving the house a breath of calm while the little ones burned off their boundless energy.

Emily sat at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a warm mug, her eyes fixed on the pale steam curling upward. She was still in pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt, her braid slightly messy, her body relaxed in a way it hadn’t been in weeks.

Y/N moved quietly behind her, placing a fresh mug down beside her own before taking the chair across the table. She wore one of Beau’s flannels over her tank top, her hair in a loose twist, a hint of sleep still lingering in her soft eyes. She moved slowly, carefully, like someone learning how to listen to her body’s warnings.

For a moment, they just sipped their coffee in silence, the kind that didn’t beg to be filled.

Then Emily looked up, her voice soft. “You didn’t have to get up with me.”

“I didn’t,” Y/N said with a quiet smile. “The baby did.”

Emily chuckled. “They already know how to keep you up, huh?”

“Seems like it.” Y/N sipped again. “Third one, and I’m still not used to that part.”

Emily studied her for a moment. “You look tired.”

“I am.”

“You okay?”

Y/N paused, setting her mug down. “I will be. It’s been... harder this time. Blood pressure’s creeping. They’re watching for preeclampsia.”

Emily’s face fell slightly. “I didn’t know it had gotten that serious.”

Y/N nodded. “We’re managing it. Slowly. Carefully.” She looked over the rim of her mug. “Beau’s carrying a lot. More than I think he wants anyone to notice.”

Emily’s eyes softened. “He always does.”

They sat in silence for another moment before Emily reached out, resting her hand gently over Y/N’s.

“I’m glad I came home,” she said. “I was afraid, at first. Afraid it would feel like stepping into a life already full. Like maybe there wasn’t space for me anymore.”

Y/N’s eyes shimmered at the edges. “Oh, Emily.”

“I know now I was wrong,” Emily added quickly. “This... this house, this family—it doesn’t feel crowded. It feels like I stepped into something meant for me.”

Y/N gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “There was always space for you. We didn’t build this life around you—we built it with you, even when you were far away. We kept a piece of you here. And now you’ve come back to it.”

Emily blinked fast, then smiled through the glimmer in her eyes. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It isn’t,” Y/N said, her voice warm but true. “But love rarely is. And still... we choose it. Every day.”

Emily nodded, emotion thick in her throat. “I want to help. With the kids. With you. With whatever you need.”

Y/N smiled. “Then you already are.”

They drank their coffee slowly after that, the sun rising higher, the light shifting gently across the room. There was no rush. No noise. Just two women—one returned, one anchored—sharing space, honesty, and the kind of quiet love that families are built on.

And when Eliza’s excited voice echoed through the front door a few minutes later—“Mama! The ducks are back!”—they both looked at each other and laughed, rising together to face the day.

The kitchen door flew open with a dramatic squeak as Eliza burst inside, boots muddy, cheeks flushed, and curls bouncing beneath the edge of her knit hat. “The ducks are back! I counted seven! And one of them looked at me like it knew my name!”

Behind her, Beau stepped in with Caleb nestled against his shoulder, bundled in his little blue coat, cheeks pink from the breeze. He looked content, a pacifier hanging loosely from his mouth as he blinked slowly at the shift from cold air to cozy warmth.

“I tried to name them,” Eliza added, kicking off her boots, “but I ran out of duck-appropriate names after Quackers and Beakson.”

Emily, still seated at the table beside Y/N, grinned over her coffee. “You didn’t consider naming one Sir Feathersworth?”

Eliza’s eyes widened. “That’s perfect. Can I steal that?”

“It’s yours now.”

“Sir Feathersworth the Third,” Eliza declared solemnly as she grabbed a marker and ran off to update her duck notes. “He has a noble beak.”

Beau leaned down to kiss Y/N’s cheek before gently setting Caleb in the high chair. “How’re you doin’, darlin’?”

Y/N looked up at him, smile soft. “I’m good. Emily and I were just catching up.”

He gave Emily a grateful nod before turning to unbundle Caleb, who had already begun reaching for the banana on the counter like a child who had personally invented hunger.

“Banana, then toast,” Beau said as he peeled the fruit, handing half to the baby and earning a delighted squeal in return.

Y/N shifted in her seat slightly, adjusting a small pillow behind her back. “What time did you head out?”

“Just after six,” Beau replied, handing her a warmed mug of tea from the kettle. “Figured a little crisp air might do the kids some good. Eliza spent the whole time explaining duck etiquette to Caleb.”

Emily snorted into her coffee.

“I had to!” Eliza shouted from the other room. “He doesn’t even know about feather politics!”

The whole kitchen filled with soft laughter.

Beau poured himself a cup of coffee and settled into the chair beside Y/N. Caleb babbled happily beside him, mouth full of banana and joy, occasionally slapping the tray with his hand as if to emphasize how deeply he was enjoying breakfast.

Emily rose and began cracking eggs into a bowl, pulling out a skillet and humming as she moved. “I figured I’d help with breakfast.”

“You don’t have to,” Y/N said.

Emily glanced back, smiling. “I want to. And besides, I’ve got at least ten more duck names I’m planning to pitch at brunch.”

“Eliza will adore you forever,” Beau said.

“She already does,” Y/N murmured, watching the way Eliza peeked into the kitchen from the hallway to check on Emily, her marker still in hand.

The skillet sizzled, the coffee stayed warm, and the soft rhythm of family filled the house—plates passed, toast buttered, Eliza adding Featherina to the growing duck council list, Caleb feeding the floor more than himself, and laughter circling like a familiar refrain.

It was a morning with no urgency, no weight. Just togetherness. Just joy.

Just home.

And as Beau reached over to rest his hand on Y/N’s belly, his thumb brushing small, reverent circles, and Emily hummed softly while flipping eggs, and Eliza narrated breakfast like it was an epic adventure, Y/N closed her eyes for a moment.

Breathing it all in.

Grateful.

Whole.

The afternoon unfolded in soft silence, the house bathed in slanted sunlight that warmed the floors and painted golden streaks across the living room walls. Caleb had finally given in to a nap, tucked into his crib with his cheek pressed into his blanket. Eliza had curled up in a nest of pillows in the living room, sketching wolves in a notebook while humming under her breath. Y/N had gone to lie down for a little while too, Beau insisting she rest even as she swore she didn’t need it.

It was the first real quiet of the day.

Emily found Beau outside, seated on the back steps with a cup of cold coffee forgotten in his hands. He stared out across the yard, where the trees rustled gently, and the breeze whispered through the new leaves. His shoulders were relaxed, but there was a tightness to his posture she recognized—a stillness that wasn’t rest, but restraint.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Beau glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “Hey, Em.”

“Mind if I join?”

“Course not.”

She sat beside him, pulling her sleeves down over her hands. For a few moments, they just sat there, side by side, the breeze passing through them.

Then Emily spoke, her voice quieter now. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Beau didn’t ask what she meant. He just exhaled through his nose, slow and worn, and looked out at the yard again.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he said.

Emily turned to face him more fully. “Dad…”

“I know,” he murmured. “I know I probably should’ve. But you were still finishing your semester, halfway across the country, trying to figure out your next steps. I didn’t want this to weigh on you too.”

“This,” she repeated, “being preeclampsia.”

Beau nodded, jaw working slightly.

“It’s serious,” Emily said, her voice breaking just a little. “I looked it up. It can get dangerous fast.”

“I know.”

She blinked, frustrated tears rising. “So why wouldn’t you tell me?”

Beau looked at her then—really looked at her—and there was something raw in his eyes.

“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of your voice shaking over the phone. Because you were already out there doing hard things, building your life, trying to be strong… and I didn’t want to put fear in your chest that you couldn’t do anything about. I didn’t want you to feel helpless.”

Emily swallowed, hard.

“She’s my family too,” she whispered.

“I know that,” Beau said, his voice thick. “Believe me, I do. And maybe I got it wrong. Maybe I should’ve told you from the start. But I just wanted to give you one more piece of peace before bringing you back into the storm.”

Emily nodded slowly, brushing at her cheek.

Beau reached for her hand, curling his fingers gently around hers.

“I’m scared too, Em,” he said. “Every day. I watch her and I want to protect her from everything. And I can’t. Not all of it. So I’m doing what I can. One thing at a time.”

She leaned into him then, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I just want to help.”

“You are,” he murmured. “You’re here. That helps more than you know.”

They sat like that for a while, father and daughter, hearts open in the quiet of the afternoon. And when they finally stood and walked back inside, they did so with fewer words between them—but a greater understanding.

She didn’t need every detail from the start. But she needed to know she wasn’t being kept on the outside of the pain. And now, she was in it with them.

Exactly where she belonged.

The late afternoon sun streamed softly through the bedroom curtains, casting long golden beams over the floor and bed. The house outside had quieted, with Caleb napping, Eliza chattering to herself in the living room, and Beau doing something quietly productive in the kitchen—he never did seem to sit still for long.

Y/N lay curled on her side with her hand resting over her belly, her breath steady but her mind still racing. She wasn’t asleep. Just trying to be still.

There was a gentle knock on the door before it creaked open.

“Hey,” Emily said, stepping inside with a careful sort of ease. “Is it okay if I come in?”

Y/N turned her head, offering a small smile. “Of course.”

Emily padded in and took a seat on the padded bench at the foot of the bed, her knees tucked up, her hands folded over them. She was quiet for a moment before she finally spoke.

“I talked to Dad.”

Y/N’s smile faltered just slightly. She looked down at her belly. “I figured you would.”

“He told me what’s going on,” Emily said gently. “The blood pressure. The risk of preeclampsia.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Y/N said, voice soft.

“I do worry,” Emily replied, her tone just as soft, but unwavering. “Because I love you. Because this baby matters to me too.”

Y/N looked at her then—really looked. The girl who had come back home no longer felt like a guest. There was a strength in Emily now, quiet but certain.

“I didn’t want to burden you,” Y/N said.

“You’re not,” Emily said firmly, leaning forward. “I’ve got the summer before classes start up again. I’ll be here. And I want to help. That’s what family does, right?”

Y/N opened her mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to deflect—but Emily reached out, taking her hand before she could.

“You’ve taken care of me more times than I can count. Let me return the favor now.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, unbidden. “You really want to?”

“I need to,” Emily said. “And not just because of the baby. Because you’re my mom. You’ve been there for me even when I didn’t make it easy. You and Dad have built something here that’s so full of love, and I want to be part of it. Not just as the daughter who shows up—as family. As someone who stands beside you.”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. “Eliza’s not going to let you out of her sight, you know.”

Emily smiled. “I know. She’s already commissioned me to build a duck fort.”

A soft laugh broke through Y/N’s tears. She nodded, squeezing Emily’s hand.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll let you in.”

“You won’t regret it.”

They sat there for a moment longer, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty—but full. Full of understanding. Full of trust. Full of love, offered and accepted.

And when Y/N finally settled back into the pillows, her body easing with a little less weight, she didn’t feel so alone.

Emily was here.

And she wasn’t going anywhere.

The house had settled into its nighttime rhythm. Dishes were washed and put away, the lights were dimmed, and Eliza had fallen asleep mid-story, her wolf plush tucked tightly beneath one arm and her other hand loosely wrapped around one of Emily’s fingers. Caleb had gone down without a fuss, worn out from the excitement of a full house and a day full of duck sightings.

Emily had taken on bedtime with calm competence, letting Beau and Y/N step back. She hadn’t even flinched when Eliza insisted on “one last wolf fact.” She just rolled with it—warm, patient, there.

Now, in the bedroom, the world was quiet again.

Y/N sat propped against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of her, the soft rise of her belly visible beneath her shirt. Beau emerged from the bathroom, towel slung over his shoulder, T-shirt tugged down, hair damp. He looked at her like she was the only thing that existed.

He climbed into bed beside her with a sigh, shifting onto his side, facing her. She turned to meet him, already curling into the shape of him.

“Kids are down?” she murmured.

“All accounted for,” he said, his hand sliding to rest gently on her belly. “Emily’s still in the hallway talking to herself. I think she’s rehearsing duck names so she doesn’t disappoint Eliza tomorrow.”

Y/N laughed softly, her head dipping against his shoulder. “She’s settling in.”

“She’s more than settling,” Beau said, brushing his fingers over her side. “She’s home. And she wants to help.”

“I know,” Y/N whispered. “She told me.”

Beau nodded, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles. “You let her in?”

“I did,” she said, her voice small but certain. “And it felt good. It felt… right.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “It is right.”

They were quiet a moment, the silence gentle and full.

Then Y/N turned her face into his chest. “It’s still scary.”

“I know,” he said. “But you’re not alone. Not in this. Not ever.”

“I was trying to carry it without showing it.”

“And I saw it anyway,” he murmured. “But now… now we’re carrying it together. All of us.”

She exhaled slowly, the tension leaving her chest with it. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” Beau said, his voice sure. Solid. “You’ve got me. Forever.”

He kissed her again, slower this time, then pulled the blanket over both of them, wrapping his arm securely around her as she curled against him.

Outside the wind stirred through the trees, a soft hush across the windows, but inside—here—there was only warmth. Only safety.

And as they drifted toward sleep, their hands still linked over the curve of the baby between them, Y/N felt the weight of the day slip away.

Because this was her place.

In his arms.

In this family.

In this life.

And tonight, that was more than enough.

The sun was just beginning to crest over the trees the next morning, casting a gentle gold across the windowsill and waking the house with a soft, steady light. Y/N was already dressed, her hair pulled back neatly, a long cardigan draped over her shoulders. She moved slowly but purposefully through the kitchen, packing a small snack bag in quiet preparation—half out of routine, half because she needed something normal to hold on to.

This wasn’t a regular appointment.

This one carried weight.

Beau had insisted on coming with her—no arguments, no compromise. He didn’t say it like a man trying to help. He said it like a husband showing up. And when she looked in his eyes, she saw it too—how much he needed to hear what the doctor had to say with her, not secondhand.

Emily stood in the doorway of the kitchen, sipping from a travel mug, hair pulled up and barefoot in leggings and one of Beau’s sweatshirts that looked entirely at home on her. Caleb babbled cheerfully from the floor beside her, and Eliza sat at the table, fully dressed with a clipboard and checklist.

“I have activities for Caleb,” Eliza announced. “I have snack times scheduled and emergency coloring assignments.”

Emily smiled, gently bouncing Caleb on her hip now. “And I have coffee, snacks, and an entire rainy-day playlist of wolf-themed movies ready. We’re covered.”

Y/N glanced between them, warmth swelling in her chest. “Are you sure? He can get… clingy.”

“I know,” Emily said. “But I’ve got this. Go.”

Beau stepped into the room, keys in hand, his free arm immediately winding around Y/N’s waist. “Kids are in the best possible hands.”

Eliza nodded solemnly. “Second-in-command. I take my duties very seriously.”

Caleb shrieked and drooled on Emily’s shirt.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly, resting her head momentarily against Beau’s shoulder. “Alright then. We’ll be back soon.”

Beau kissed the top of her head. “We’ll text if we’re running long.”

And with that, they stepped out into the cool morning air, the weight of the day slowly settling into their bones.

The ride to the clinic was quiet.

Not heavy, just... present.

Beau’s hand rested on her thigh the entire drive, his thumb gently tracing slow circles while his other hand steered. Y/N looked out the window, watching the world move—people starting their days, cars weaving through traffic, everything seeming so normal.

But inside, her heart beat a little faster.

At the clinic, they checked in without fuss. The nurse smiled kindly, greeted them by name, and ushered them into a small, softly lit room. Y/N sat on the edge of the exam table while Beau settled into the chair beside her, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving her.

Blood pressure first.

Always.

The cuff wrapped tightly around her arm. The nurse offered a small smile—professional, but knowing.

Y/N exhaled as the machine beeped.

Beau’s hand found hers.

The numbers flashed on the screen.

And Y/N knew.

It was higher than last time.

Not dangerously yet. But close.

The nurse didn’t comment. Just jotted it down, gave them both a quiet nod, and left with a murmured, “Dr. Thomas will be in shortly.”

As the door clicked shut, Y/N stared at her hands.

Beau reached for them, folding both of hers into his.

She finally looked at him.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said gently.

But she did.

“I hate that I knew it would be worse,” she whispered. “And I hate that I hoped it wouldn’t be.”

Beau leaned forward, kissed her knuckles, then pressed her hands to his chest. “No matter what they say today, we face it together.”

Y/N nodded, the tightness in her throat rising.

Beau didn’t look away—not once.

And when the door opened again and Dr. Thomas entered with her usual calm expression and clipboard in hand, Y/N inhaled deeply and sat up straight.

She wasn’t alone.

Not in this.

Not ever.

Dr. Thomas entered the softly lit exam room, her expression calm yet attentive. She greeted Y/N and Beau with a warm smile, settling onto the stool beside the examination table.

“Your blood pressure readings today are higher than we’d like,” she began gently. “Given that you’re at 20 weeks, we need to be proactive in managing this to ensure both your safety and the baby’s.”

Y/N nodded, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. Beau reached over, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Dr. Thomas continued, “I’d like to initiate a home monitoring plan. This will involve tracking your blood pressure twice daily, monitoring for any symptoms, and maintaining regular communication with our office.”

She handed Y/N a brochure titled “Managing Preeclampsia at Home,” along with a logbook.

“We’ll provide you with a validated home blood pressure monitor,” she explained. “It’s crucial to take readings in the morning and evening, ensuring you’re seated comfortably and have rested for at least five minutes beforehand.”

Y/N glanced at Beau, who gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“In addition to blood pressure monitoring,” Dr. Thomas added, “we’ll schedule weekly check-ins. These will include ultrasounds to assess the baby’s growth and amniotic fluid levels, as well as non-stress tests to monitor the baby’s heart rate.”

Y/N took a deep breath, processing the information. “Is there anything else I should be doing?”

“Rest is important,” Dr. Thomas replied. “While complete bed rest isn’t recommended, you should avoid strenuous activities and listen to your body. Also, be vigilant for any symptoms such as severe headaches, visual disturbances, or sudden swelling. If any of these occur, contact us immediately.”

Beau leaned forward, his voice steady. “We’ll make sure to follow everything closely.”

Dr. Thomas smiled, standing up. “I’ll have the nurse bring in the monitor and go over its use with you. Remember, we’re here to support you every step of the way.”

As she left the room, Y/N turned to Beau, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and apprehension.

“We’ve got this,” he said softly, pulling her into a gentle embrace. “One step at a time.”

The drive home was quieter than the one that had carried them to the clinic.

Y/N sat with her hands folded over the blood pressure monitor in her lap, her thumb brushing across the edge of the box. The doctor’s words still echoed in her mind—home monitoring, symptoms to watch, rest. The part of her that was used to pushing through, to doing for everyone else, itched against the idea of slowing down.

But Beau’s hand stayed steady on her thigh the entire ride, his presence grounding her in that way only he could.

When they pulled into the driveway, the front window was already flung open, Eliza’s wolf banner still hanging proud in the glass. Emily must’ve opened the window to let the breeze in. From inside came a faint clatter and Caleb’s high-pitched giggle.

They stepped through the door to the smell of cinnamon and warm butter—Emily had made toast, probably from the last of the good bread. Caleb was chewing on a crust while Eliza narrated a wolf story to him in dramatic tones.

Emily looked up as they entered, her eyes scanning Y/N first, then Beau. “How’d it go?”

Beau answered gently. “We’ve got a plan.”

Y/N lifted the monitor slightly. “Home tracking. Twice a day. Weekly scans. Lots of rest.”

Emily nodded, already falling into that rhythm of silent understanding, her gaze flicking between them with something close to fierce protectiveness.

Y/N moved toward the couch and eased herself down slowly. Beau hovered for a moment, then crouched beside her, brushing a hand gently over her knee.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice low but steady. “It might be time to call your mom. Ask Margaret to come stay for a bit.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly. “You really think it’s that bad?”

“I think it’s time to stop waiting for it to get worse,” he said gently. “Emily’s incredible, but she’s just one person—and she’s got her own life restarting soon. And you…” His hand came to rest over hers. “You need to rest. Really rest. No guilt. No pushing.”

Y/N hesitated.

Across the room, Emily pretended to stir the remaining coffee, giving them space but listening—her quiet presence something solid and sure.

Y/N let out a slow breath. “She’d come in a heartbeat.”

“Then let’s ask her,” Beau said. “Let her help.”

There was a long beat of silence before Y/N nodded, the tension in her shoulders softening. “Alright. Let's call her.”

Beau leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good.”

Emily stepped forward then, setting a fresh cup of tea on the table. “And in the meantime, I’ve got dinner covered tonight. You’re not lifting a finger.”

Eliza, as if on cue, popped her head around the corner. “Can Grandma sleep in my room when she comes?”

“We’ll see, little wolf,” Y/N murmured with a tired smile, reaching out to gently tug her daughter close.

As the house buzzed gently back to life around them—Caleb’s delighted shrieks, the clatter of pans in the kitchen, Emily already pulling ingredients—Y/N leaned back into the cushions and let herself breathe.

They were pulling the circle tighter now.

Margaret would come.

And with Beau beside her, with Emily here, with her family rallying in all the ways that mattered, Y/N could finally surrender a little.

She didn’t have to carry everything alone.

Not anymore.

The sun was beginning to set, casting long golden streaks across the porch as Beau stepped outside, his phone in hand. The screen door clicked shut softly behind him, muting the gentle hum of the house—Y/N curled on the couch, Eliza reading aloud from a picture book, Caleb babbling from his playpen, and Emily clattering around in the kitchen.

He stood there for a moment, just breathing in the cool air, steadying himself.

Then he found her number and hit call.

It rang once. Twice.

Then Margaret’s warm, ever-capable voice answered, “Beau?”

“Hi, Margaret,” he said, his voice rougher than he meant. “You got a minute?”

“For you? Always,” she replied immediately. “Everything alright?”

There was no judgment in her tone, no panic. Just calm concern—the kind that made people feel safe enough to unravel a little.

He cleared his throat, staring out at the trees. “Y/N’s doctor wants her resting more. Her blood pressure’s climbing. There’s a real risk of preeclampsia.”

A beat of silence.

Then, “How’s she doing?”

“She’s being strong,” Beau said, “because she always is. She’s trying to take it in stride, but I can see it on her. She’s scared.”

Another pause.

Then Margaret asked, so gently it nearly undid him, “And how are you doing?”

Beau opened his mouth.

Closed it.

The wind moved through the branches, the screen door creaked faintly, and still he didn’t speak.

“Beau,” she said again, softer this time. “Honey, how are you?”

And just like that—

He cracked.

“I’m—” He shook his head, swallowing hard. “I’m holding on. But God, Margaret… I love her so damn much, and I can’t do anything to fix this.”

The words came in a rush now, the tightness in his chest finally breaking loose.

“I watch her sleeping, and I’m scared. I make coffee, and I’m scared. I hold her hand in the exam room, and I smile like everything’s okay, but inside I’m begging for it to stay okay. And it’s getting harder to pretend like I’m not two inches away from falling apart.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Margaret murmured, and he could hear the ache in her voice now. “You’ve been carrying all of it, haven’t you?”

“She’s already doing so much,” Beau whispered. “And Emily’s stepped up in every way. But I… I didn’t want Y/N to see how much it’s breaking me. How much I need her to be okay because I don’t know who I am without her anymore.”

There was a long silence, filled only with his ragged breathing and the rustle of wind in the trees.

Then Margaret said, “I’m packing a bag tonight. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

Beau closed his eyes, the tears finally slipping down his cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“You called the right person,” she said gently. “You don’t have to be the strong one every moment, Beau. You’re not alone in this—not now, not ever. You’re family. And I’ve got you both.”

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “I just want to keep her safe.”

“I know you do,” she whispered. “And you're doing it. Just by loving her the way you do.”

Another breath. Softer now. Less strained.

“I’ll be there soon, alright? Get some rest if you can.”

“Okay,” he said, voice breaking again. “Thank you.”

They hung up quietly.

Beau stayed on the porch for a few more minutes, watching the sky turn from gold to lavender. He wiped his face on his sleeve and took one more steady breath before turning back toward the house.

Back to her.

Because no matter how scared he was—he would keep showing up.

For Y/N.

Always.

The screen door creaked gently as Beau stepped back inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around him like a soft, steady heartbeat. The scent of rosemary and something faintly sweet still lingered in the air from whatever Emily had managed to pull together in the kitchen. Laughter from Eliza echoed faintly from the hallway, then faded into the gentle hush of the settling evening.

Y/N was still on the couch, her legs curled beneath her, a blanket tucked over her lap. She looked up as he entered, her gaze scanning his face like she was reading him without a word.

Beau didn’t speak at first. He walked toward her slowly, the weight of the call still fresh in his chest. He knelt beside her, resting one hand on her knee and the other over her blanket-covered belly.

“Hey,” she said softly, brushing her fingers through his hair. “You okay?”

He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes just for a second. “I talked to your mom.”

Y/N stilled. “Oh?”

“I told her everything. What the doctor said. About the monitor. The pressure. I told her… what we’re scared of.”

Y/N’s fingers paused in his hair. “And?”

Beau opened his eyes and met hers, his voice low and full of something raw and real. “She’s coming. Packing a bag tonight. She’ll be here tomorrow.”

Y/N’s lips parted, emotion flickering across her face. “You… asked her?”

He nodded. “I needed to. We need help, and you need to rest. Real rest. And I know you—it’s easier to rest when you know someone’s picking up what you’re setting down.”

Her eyes welled as she reached for his hand, their fingers tangling. “Did you tell her how scared you are?”

He hesitated. Then nodded once. “Yeah. I cracked, sweetheart. She asked me how I was, and I couldn’t pretend anymore. I love you so damn much it’s tearing me up inside to watch you carry this and not be able to make it go away.”

Y/N blinked hard, her voice catching. “I didn’t want you to carry that part.”

“I’d carry it twice over if it meant keeping you safe,” he whispered.

She let the tears come now, leaning forward into him, their foreheads resting together, their hands still wrapped tight. “I’m glad you called her,” she said softly. “Even if it scared me a little to hear you say it.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But it’s time to let the people who love us come in. We don’t have to be the only ones holding everything.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her voice small. “You’re still the strongest person I know.”

Beau cupped her face, brushing a tear away with his thumb. “Only because I’ve got you beside me.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing together, the hush of the house wrapping gently around them.

Then from the hallway came a familiar, dramatic whisper: “Is this a romantic moment?”

It was Eliza.

Of course.

Y/N laughed, a choked sound full of love and something healing. Beau looked toward the hall, his voice dry.

“Go back to bed, little wolf.”

“But it looked important!”

“It was. Now shoo.”

Tiny feet padded off, giggles trailing behind her.

Beau turned back to Y/N, brushing his lips softly over hers.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered. “Your mama’s coming. And we’re gonna take care of you.”

Y/N pressed her forehead to his. “And I’ll let you.”

The first rays of morning filtered softly through the kitchen windows, painting the walls in a gentle glow that turned everything golden. The house was quiet, still tucked in the comfort of early hours. A rare hush—peaceful and tender, like the house itself knew someone important was on their way.

Y/N sat at the table in Beau’s flannel shirt and a pair of soft leggings, her tea steaming gently beside her, hands folded over her belly. Her features were calm, if a bit tired, her eyes tracing the slow dance of steam above the mug. She felt the familiar flutter of movement—gentle taps from within—and smiled faintly to herself.

Across from her, Emily leaned on the table with her chin in one hand, still in pajamas, her eyes barely open as she stirred a bowl of oatmeal. “Remind me why children wake up this early?”

“Because they’re solar-powered,” Y/N murmured. “The moment light hits the window, they activate.”

“Unholy.”

Beau’s voice rumbled from the doorway as he entered, barefoot, mug in hand, hair tousled. “You weren’t complaining when you were the one waking us up at 5:30 to open Christmas stockings.”

Emily snorted. “Yeah, well… I was six.”

“You’re still dramatic,” he said, bending down to kiss Y/N’s cheek before taking the seat beside her. “How’re you feelin’, darlin’?”

“Okay,” she said truthfully. “A little achey. Tired. But okay.”

He rested his hand on her belly and left it there, warm and steady. “Mama’ll be here by lunch.”

“I know,” she whispered, letting herself exhale into that reassurance.

From the hallway came a soft thump and a familiar patter of feet. Eliza appeared in the doorway, sleep-tousled, wearing her wolf pajama top and clutching her plush. “Is Grandma here yet?”

“Not yet,” Y/N said, smiling. “Soon.”

“Good,” Eliza said solemnly, climbing into the chair beside Emily. “We have duck business to discuss.”

Emily blinked. “Do you hold family council meetings before breakfast?”

“Only on special occasions.” Eliza shoved a piece of toast in her mouth. “Like Grandma visits and full moons.”

Caleb squawked from his high chair, banging a spoon with gleeful chaos. Beau reached over with practiced ease and wiped banana from his chin.

“Looks like everyone’s got big plans this morning,” he said, glancing around the table.

Y/N leaned back slightly, watching them all with a soft, lingering smile. Emily half-asleep, Eliza wide awake and planning duck diplomacy, Beau calm in the chaos, and Caleb delighted with breakfast destruction.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t rushed. It was just soft—a family suspended in that golden pause before the day shifted again. Before Margaret’s arrival. Before Y/N allowed herself to surrender a bit more of the burden.

For now, they were just together. Gentle and warm.

And as Y/N reached across the table and took Beau’s hand, resting it over hers where their baby moved just beneath the surface, she knew this was what she would hold onto.

Not the fear.

Not the what-ifs.

This.

Love, laughter, and the people who made even the hardest things feel survivable.

The morning had eased into mid-morning light, soft and full. With Beau already gone to the station for a short shift—just long enough to check in and tie up a few loose ends—Emily found herself in the living room with Eliza, surrounded by construction paper, markers, a length of ribbon, and exactly too much glitter.

Y/N had retreated to her room with a book and a promise—just resting, not napping—though Emily had made her swear twice she wouldn’t get up for anything less than a house fire or a duck uprising.

Now, Eliza sat cross-legged on the rug with her tongue poking out in concentration, a pair of child-safe scissors in her hand. “I’m making a banner that says Welcome Grandma, but I’m spelling it G-R-A-M-M-A because I think it looks cuter.”

Emily, lounging on her stomach nearby and cutting ribbon into manageable lengths, smiled. “I think that’s perfectly acceptable. Very on-brand for the wolf pack.”

Eliza beamed. “Exactly! And I’m drawing a wolf with glasses because Grandma reads a lot. And also she likes tea, so maybe I’ll draw a mug.”

“Wow,” Emily murmured. “That’s an incredibly detailed banner.”

“It’s not just a banner. It’s an experience.”

Emily laughed under her breath and set down the ribbon. She reached over and gently tugged on a lock of Eliza’s hair. “You’re a little force of nature, you know that?”

Eliza blinked at her. “What kind of nature?”

“Like a very sweet hurricane,” Emily said. “But in a good way.”

Eliza smiled proudly. “Daddy says I’m made of sunshine and volume.”

“That’s extremely accurate.”

They fell into a companionable silence again, the kind that only comes when trust is easy and time feels stretched and kind.

Then, without looking up from her marker work, Eliza asked softly, “Is Mama really okay?”

Emily blinked. “What makes you ask that?”

Eliza kept drawing. “She smiles a lot. But she moves slower. And Daddy keeps looking at her like he’s thinking very hard. And sometimes she rubs her belly when no one’s talking.”

Emily paused, heart aching at the quiet perceptiveness tucked behind the childlike voice. “She’s… a little tired. Growing a baby takes a lot out of someone. But she’s okay. And we’re going to help her stay okay.”

Eliza considered that for a moment, then nodded. “That’s why Grandma’s coming.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re here too,” she added, glancing up. “You make things feel safer.”

Emily blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. “I do?”

“Yeah,” Eliza said simply. “It’s like… when you’re here, the whole house feels like it’s sitting still.”

Emily smiled, throat tight. “Thanks, little wolf.”

Eliza crawled over and flopped against her side, wrapping her arms around her like a content puppy. “I’m glad you came home.”

Emily wrapped her arms around her in return. “So am I.”

In the stillness of that moment—crayon streaks, ribbons half-cut, and glitter absolutely everywhere—Emily realized she hadn’t just returned to a house.

She’d returned to a place that needed her.

And one that, maybe, she needed just as much.

The afternoon had deepened into that quiet, golden hush that only came when the house had begun to settle. The light through the living room windows spilled over the floor in soft ribbons, and the low hum of Caleb’s nap monitor filled the space like a lullaby.

Emily stood at the front window, a mug of tea in hand, watching the street beyond the trees. Then, movement—slow and familiar. A silver rental car pulled into the driveway, dust lifting in the sunlight as the tires crunched over gravel.

“She’s here,” Emily murmured.

Y/N, curled up on the couch beneath a light blanket, tensed as if to rise. Her hand reached for the armrest, body already shifting forward.

But Emily turned, set her mug down, and gently touched her shoulder. “Don’t. Let me get it.”

Y/N hesitated, her lips pressing together, a flicker of resistance crossing her face—but then she exhaled and eased back into the cushions, nodding once. Her fingers drifted to the swell of her belly, and for a long, breathless second, she just watched.

That flutter in her chest—so deeply ingrained and rarely stirred—returned. The childlike ache of longing, that particular softness born only in daughters when they knew their mothers were near. She hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding herself together until now.

The car door opened.

“Is it time to howl yet?” Eliza whispered from the rug, her eyes wide with excitement.

Y/N laughed, her voice light for the first time all day. “Let her come inside first, little wolf.”

“But can I waggle first?” Eliza wiggled her whole body for emphasis, her braids bouncing.

Before Y/N could answer, Eliza peered out the window and spotted her.

“There she is! Hi Gramma!” she shouted through the glass.

Outside, Margaret lifted her head at the sound of the voice. She smiled—and then lit up like someone had flipped a switch inside her.

The back hatch of the rental was still open, her suitcase halfway in her grip when the front door flew open and Eliza burst out in full sprint.

“Don’t trip on the steps!” Y/N called instinctively, but there was no stopping her.

Emily chuckled, standing in the doorway now as she watched Eliza barrel down the front walk, barefoot, arms out like she might launch into her grandmother’s arms.

Margaret didn’t hesitate. She dropped the handle of her bag and caught Eliza in a full embrace, laughing as the little girl clung to her.

“Hi, my wild girl,” Margaret said, voice thick with warmth. “Look at you—did you grow twice as fast just to surprise me?”

Emily watched, smiling as she stepped out to grab Margaret’s bag and tug it toward the porch. By the time they all moved inside, Eliza was chattering about duck councils, wolf packs, and the very important glitter protocols of their household.

Margaret stepped into the living room and everything slowed.

Y/N looked up from the couch, her hands folded neatly over the blanket at her belly. Her eyes were glassy, too full and too wide. And Margaret… Margaret saw everything.

The weariness under her daughter’s eyes.

The faint swelling in her fingers.

The way she sat—like she wasn’t just tired, but holding something back.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, anything—

But she didn’t need to.

Margaret crossed the room in a few short steps, her bag forgotten by the door. She knelt beside the couch and folded Y/N into her arms like she had the day her daughter skinned her knee at seven, like she had the night she left for college, like she had when life broke her heart more than once.

This was no different.

Margaret held her, steady and sure.

And Y/N let go.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

“I came the second you needed me,” Margaret murmured into her hair. “You don’t have to carry it alone now.”

Behind them, Emily scooped Caleb from his playpen, settling him on her hip just as he began to stir. Eliza had taken to tugging at Emily’s sleeve, launching into the latest duck debate she’d had with the neighbor’s dog.

With a quiet smile and a glance back at the living room, Emily nodded once—to her mom, to her grandmother—and led the little ones gently into the kitchen.

They knew this moment wasn’t theirs to fill.

It belonged to Y/N.

And the mother who had come just in time.

The sun dipped low beyond the trees, casting warm amber streaks through the kitchen windows and painting the walls with fading light. The smells of supper filled the house—simple food, comforting and familiar. A roasted chicken with rosemary, warm bread, and honey-glazed carrots. Emily had taken the lead, with Eliza as her enthusiastic sous-chef and Margaret not far behind, lending quiet direction when needed.

Beau returned just as the table was being set, stepping through the door with the smell of fresh air still clinging to him and a tired smile already on his face. The moment he saw Margaret at the counter, carefully slicing bread while Caleb babbled beside her in his high chair, he exhaled like something inside him had finally unlocked.

“Evening, Margaret.”

She turned, smiling as she wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Welcome home, son.”

Beau crossed to her and hugged her tightly—no pretense, no stiffness, just gratitude in his arms. “Thank you for coming.”

“You think I’d be anywhere else?” she whispered.

Eliza ran into the room, a napkin crown perched sideways on her head. “Daddy! Gramma says I’m the official wolf pack hostess tonight!”

“She’s not wrong,” Beau said, scooping her into a quick hug before setting her down.

At the table, Y/N had already settled into her seat with a throw draped over her lap, her movements slower, but her smile brighter than it had been in days. She looked around the room—the table full of motion, of voices and warmth and clinking dishes—and her heart ached in the best possible way.

They were all here.

Caleb tossed a spoon onto the floor and squealed.

Beau retrieved it without complaint, kissed the top of his son’s head, and took his seat beside Y/N, his hand finding hers beneath the table.

As they began to eat, conversation flowed easily. Eliza recounted her duck-themed drama from the day. Emily teased Beau about nearly burning the rice last week. Margaret asked gentle questions about the town, about Emily’s upcoming school plans, about how the garden in the back was faring.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.

It was soft.

The kind of evening that stayed with you long after it was over—the kind that settled into the bones and whispered, this is what home feels like.

After dinner, Margaret helped Y/N back to the couch, insisting she rest while the others cleaned up. Beau watched from the kitchen as Margaret pulled a blanket over her daughter’s legs, tucked a pillow behind her back, and sat beside her with a quiet steadiness that somehow made the whole room breathe easier.

Caleb drifted off on Emily’s shoulder as she rocked slowly in the chair by the window. Eliza drew on the back of the placemat, humming to herself.

Beau dried the last dish and stepped into the living room, his eyes sweeping over the space.

It wasn’t just the house that was full.

He was full.

With love.

With quiet joy.

With relief.

He settled beside Y/N, drawing her close and kissing the side of her head.

“Good evening,” she murmured, her voice laced with sleep.

“The best,” he whispered back.

And as twilight settled outside and the home glowed soft and golden within, no one spoke of fear, or blood pressure, or risks to come.

They simply existed—together.

A family wrapped in warmth.

A circle unbroken.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk, @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick

@hobby27, @hellsbratonthet

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