#AUTO SH

[broadwayautotransport12]

Title: Navigating Auto Shipping: A Comprehensive Guide

In a world where relocation, online car purchases, and even seasonal migrations are increasingly common, auto shipping has become a vital service. Whether you're moving across the country, selling a vehicle to someone out of state, or sending your prized possession off to a car show, understanding the ins and outs of auto shipping can save you time, money, and headaches. In this guide, we'll delve into the essential aspects of Auto Shipping to help you navigate the process smoothly.

What is Auto Shipping?

Auto shipping, also known as car shipping or vehicle transport, is the process of moving a vehicle from one location to another using specialized carriers. These carriers can be open or enclosed trailers, depending on the level of protection desired for the vehicle. Auto shipping services are utilized by individuals, businesses, dealerships, and even military personnel who need to transport vehicles over long distances.

Reasons to Consider Auto Shipping

1. Relocation:

Moving across the country? Driving your vehicle to your new destination might not be the most practical option, especially if you have multiple vehicles or a long distance to cover. Auto shipping allows you to transport your car safely while you focus on other aspects of your move.

2. Online Car Purchases:

With the rise of online car sales platforms, purchasing a vehicle from another state has become more common. Instead of flying out to pick up the car or arranging for a long-distance drive, auto shipping offers a convenient solution to get your new vehicle delivered right to your doorstep.

3. Seasonal Travel:

Snowbirds, vacationers, and travelers who spend extended periods in different locations often rely on auto shipping to transport their vehicles between seasonal homes or destinations. This saves them the hassle of driving long distances multiple times a year.

Choosing an Auto Shipping Company

Selecting the right auto shipping company is crucial for a smooth and hassle-free experience. Here are some factors to consider:

1. Reputation:

Research the company's reputation by reading reviews and testimonials from previous customers. Look for companies with positive feedback regarding their reliability, professionalism, and customer service.

2. Licensing and Insurance:

Ensure that the auto shipping company is licensed, bonded, and insured. This protects your vehicle in case of any damage or accidents during transit.

3. Services Offered:

Different auto shipping companies offer various services, such as open or enclosed transport, door-to-door delivery, and expedited shipping. Choose a company that offers the services that best meet your needs.

4. Cost:

While cost is an important factor, it shouldn't be the sole determining factor. Be wary of companies offering significantly lower prices than their competitors, as this could indicate subpar service or hidden fees.

Preparing Your Vehicle for Shipping

Before handing over your vehicle to the auto shipping company, take the following steps to ensure it's ready for transport:

Wash the exterior of the vehicle to facilitate inspection for any existing damage.

Remove personal belongings and valuables from the interior of the car.

Document any pre-existing damage by taking photos from various angles.

Ensure that the vehicle's fluids are at appropriate levels, and the tires are inflated to the recommended pressure.

Disable the car alarm to prevent it from going off during transit.

Conclusion

Auto shipping offers a convenient and efficient solution for transporting vehicles over long distances. Whether you're relocating, purchasing a car online, or heading to your seasonal destination, choosing the right auto shipping company and adequately preparing your vehicle can ensure a smooth and stress-free experience. By understanding the process and following these guidelines, you can rest assured that your vehicle will arrive safely at its destination, allowing you to focus on the next chapter of your journey.

[faejilly]

i find it kinda silly that warlocks have marks but nephilim don’t, considering the fact that angle blood is potent as fuck

Thus the eternal popularity of wing!fic/wing!art, yes? 💘

On the one hand, this could just be because angels and demons are opposing forces, one cancelling out the other, diametrically opposed on a metaphysical/magical level, so their powers manifest in different ways in their children.

(They're mostly all rather absurdly beautiful after all. Maybe that's their angel mark? *snickers*)

On the other hand, in a slightly more jilly likes making up magic lore point... maybe nephilim aren't half-angel in at all the same way warlocks are half-demon?

And this got long and rambly, so:

It is canon that the children of nephilim are always nephilim... which isn't how inheritance works, generally speaking.

If nephilim were half-angel/half-human in a biological sense, then shadowhunters would presumably be sterile, a combination of two barely compatible bloodlines just like warlocks.

But they can have children. Perhaps that's just something about angelic bloodlines, a power aimed more at life than the demonic bloodlines that seem more like death? (If that was it though, one wonders why would demons be able to have half-human children at all?)

If it was somehow just inheritance, even hand-wavey magical inheritance, nephilim should, one would think, be getting less and less angelic over time, no matter how carefully the Clave tries to manage their family lines.

(And losing the Mortal Cup really would be a death knell for the world, because the nephilim would in fact die out no matter how many children they tried to have, and then the demons would win. It might take awhile, depending on how frequent one thinks incursions are, and how many nephilim there were before the uprising, but still. There is no balance, just inevitable defeat.)

But modern shadowhunters are still capable of killing demons, can still use adamas and runes, can still (however reprehensible this is) overpower and subjugate the down world.

They continue to have angelic power no matter how removed they are from their founders.

They also continue to have angelic powers even when infected/attack by demonic ones. You literally can't take the angel out of a nephilim.

Otherwise Jonathan Morgenstern wouldn't have been able to bear runes, Tessa wouldn't have been able to have children in the books, Luke wouldn't have been a shadowhunter again after his lycanthropy was cured in the TV show. (Deruned shadowhunters wouldn't explicitly be so tempting to demons once they lose their protections.) Which does at first sound like they're still half-angel under the demonic corruption...

BUT!

Fallen angels also still have angelic power, despite being 100% demon.

Magnus' ability to interact with adamas/shadowhunter tools makes that explicit: he's partially angelic even as a half-demon/half-human warlock.

Which is too many halves if nephilim abilities came from being half-angel!

Perhaps, angelic power literally can't be broken down, regardless of anything else happening around it or containing it... instead, angelic grace is simply eternal. Immutable, irresistible, unavoidable... once seen it is never ever forgotten.

Thus purging the angelic core works against Lilith without also making the Institute defenseless, the so-called Herondale birthmark never fades. (Does this mean Clary and her bloodline will also be marked somehow, in a way we have yet to see defined in canon, Ithuriel's grace made manifest on them forever?)

If we follow that logic through the aforementioned Tessa/Jonathan/Luke (perhaps even Max Trueblood and any other deruned shadowhunters who go on to live mundane lives) maybe nephilim are actually still just human. They have children, they live, they grow old, they die.

Perhaps nephilim are forever touched by angelic grace, but never actually part of it?

(Is this in fact part of what makes angels different than demons? They will not corrupt or twist humanity into something other, but they will grant a gift. One that is inhuman, amoral, one that burns cold and eternal and is necessary, perhaps, but not kind. Is this their true problem with Clary's use of runes in the TV show, that she is twisting humanity into something else, that she is corrupting them by combining angelic and demonic and human in a way that is anathema and dangerous to angelic grace? Angels do not interfere with humanity, except to try and prevent demons from interfering with humanity. Thus never stopping Valentine, or interfering with the Clave no matter how ruthless they became. Their sins were still human sins, not demonic ones.)

Maybe nephilim are not inherently immune to demonic influence, to possession or bearing demonic children. The gift of grace allows them to access angelic power, lets them use it to actively protect themselves, much like they're trained to fight and use runes and forge adamas etc. but they are still just human.

This makes Valentine's ability to 'create' a demon that can sneak into the Institute and possess shadowhunters (can kill Jocelyn and poison Izzy) much more palatable. He's not creating something that can bypass nephilim nature. He just found a way past the tools they use to protect themselves.

SO!

Back to my meta on your actual original comment.

Perhaps nephilim do not have marks in the way that warlocks do because they're not half angel.

They're infected like werewolves or vampires, just with a more difficult transmission, only possible through children rather than blood or violence. (And isn't that actually the first thing that does make sense as an angelic trait? Family and bonds and love and life, not death, as the only way to succeed, as the only way to continue.)

They have symptoms of angelic grace, a magical counter to demonic corruption: fortitude and beauty and the ability to use angelic tools. They're the opposing force to vampire speed and seduction and fangs, to werewolf strength and pack and transformation.

This is why they can't do magic like warlocks and seelies, even if they are supernatural. This is why they're still mortal. They're still just human however hard they try to pretend otherwise.

At some level, this is probably part of why the Clave despises werewolves and vampires even more than fae and warlocks. They're all too similar, too clearly an illustration of there but for the grace of angels...

Literally.

[luxxiestw]

Alguém sabe me dizer que tipo de cortes são esses?

[izzytalopram]

quero picotar meu braço

[sadsickandstoned]

[binkrls]

tw sh and ugly me

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it feels good to be back

[cannibalism-creep]

after care is so important guys *starts licking the blood off my wounds*

[gloomieday]

Ontem trabalhando no meu pai eu fui completamente humilhada pelos amigos dele e as putas que trabalham pra ele e pra variar ele não fez absolutamente nada. Eu dilacerei o meu peito, meu namorado tá chateado comigo e eu não quero comer absolutamente nada, só vomitar na cara de todo mundo. Sinto que tô a beira do suicidio e tô em desespero.

[sxnnieflxwer]

Bl00d, not much $h. A bit of sc4rs.

(beware, I'm fat.)

S4ngue, pouca mutil4ça0. Umas c1c4triz3s

(cuidado, eu sou gorda.)

Just a silly pic of bl00d. Btw, does anyone's here bl00d also turn into a sort of jelly? Like, after a few seconds, the dripping bl00d gets the texture of jelly and you can literally pick it up? Idk if this makes sense lol.

BR; Só uma foto bobinha de sangue. Aliás, o sangue de mais alguém aqui também fica tipo uma gelatina? Tipo, depois de algum tempo o sangue escorrendo pega a textura de gelatina e tu consegue literalmente pegar? Não sei se faz sentido.

[goodpvppy]

૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ა i miss being owned

[broadwayautotransport12]

Title: Navigating the Seas of Car Shipping: A Comprehensive Guide

Introduction: Shipping a car can seem like a daunting task, whether you're relocating across the country or purchasing a vehicle from a distant seller. The logistics involved, coupled with the apprehension of entrusting your valuable asset to a third party, can make the process overwhelming. However, armed with the right knowledge and understanding, shipping a car can be a smooth and stress-free experience. In this guide, we'll delve into the world of Car Shipping covering everything from preparation and choosing a carrier to understanding costs and ensuring a safe delivery.

Preparation: Before diving into the process of shipping your car, it's essential to prepare it adequately. Start by thoroughly cleaning both the interior and exterior of the vehicle. This not only ensures a presentable appearance upon arrival but also allows for a detailed inspection to note any pre-existing damages. Documenting the condition of your car through photographs is crucial for insurance purposes and resolving disputes in case of any damage during transit.

Choosing a Carrier: One of the most critical decisions you'll make when shipping your car is selecting a reliable carrier. Research various auto transport companies, read reviews, and obtain multiple quotes to compare services and prices. Ensure that the carrier is licensed, bonded, and insured, providing you with the necessary protection and peace of mind throughout the shipping process. Additionally, consider factors such as shipping methods (open transport vs. enclosed transport) and delivery options (door-to-door vs. terminal-to-terminal) based on your preferences and budget.

Understanding Costs: The cost of shipping a car can vary depending on several factors, including the distance, vehicle size, shipping method, and time of year. Generally, longer distances and larger vehicles incur higher shipping costs, while factors such as seasonal demand and fuel prices can also impact prices. Request detailed quotes from prospective carriers, ensuring transparency regarding any additional fees or surcharges. While it may be tempting to opt for the cheapest option, prioritize reliability and quality of service to safeguard your vehicle.

Ensuring a Safe Delivery: Once you've selected a carrier and finalized the shipping arrangements, take necessary precautions to ensure a safe delivery. Remove all personal belongings from the car, including valuables and aftermarket accessories, to prevent damage or theft during transit. Disable any alarm systems and ensure that the gas tank is only partially filled to reduce weight and minimize potential hazards. Communicate with the carrier throughout the shipping process, staying informed about the progress and estimated delivery date of your vehicle.

Conclusion: Shipping a car doesn't have to be a daunting task when approached with preparation, research, and vigilance. By following the steps outlined in this guide and working with a reputable auto transport company, you can navigate the seas of car shipping with confidence and peace of mind. Whether you're relocating to a new city or purchasing a vehicle from afar, a smooth and stress-free shipping experience awaits you on the horizon.

[malkaviian]

continuación de este post porque me encanta hacer sufrir a mis faves(?

[tomywolf]

ALTER EGO

A cigarette nestled between my fingertips, I gazed out the window as a single tear slipped from my right eye, tracing a cold path down my cheek. I cried quietly, each muffled sound breaking the silence like a whisper in the dark. The room felt heavy, filled with the smoke that curled from my hand, mingling with the sorrow that pressed down on me.

Fuck...

As I walked toward the washroom, a deep sense of numbness washed over me, pulling me down like an anchor in the dark. Standing in front of the mirror, bare and exposed, I stared at my reflection, a stranger's face looking back. I let out a laugh, hollow and bitter, echoing off the empty walls. It sounded almost pathetic, as if mocking the person I had become.

"You look disgusting"

The frigid water cascaded down my face and body, offering a fleeting sense of clarity, only to vanish almost instantly. As I stood there, shivering under the cold stream, my eyes were drawn to the door, which creaked open. My mother entered, her presence cutting through the stillness, her gaze locking onto mine with a silent tension that filled the space.

"This is because of you, everything happens because of you, after all you're someone who should've died years ago when you were 14 when you were considered a victim"

"I was considered a victim because of what you all did to me, because i was"

As the words left my mouth, a sharp sting suddenly lashed across my cheeks. I let out a resigned sigh, smirking at her, standing there like she always did. Unyielding, as if she were always right.

I tightened my grip on the hammer beside me, the tension palpable. It was obvious to her, and she didn’t hesitate. “Are you threatening me right now?” she asked, her voice cold and sharp, daring me to answer.

I smiled at her, a twisted grin, as I hurled the hammer at the mirror, the glass shattering in a chaotic symphony. Tilting my head to the right, I noticed the blood dripping from my nose. She tossed some cotton at my feet, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do I stress you that much?” she sneered. “Go ahead, take the meds your therapist gave you. You’re clearly mentally ill.”

I kept the smirk plastered on my face, defiance flickering in my eyes as she glared at me, a calculated expression twisting her features. Her gaze dropped, coldly appraising, and my skin crawled under the weight of it. She reached down, picking up the bra from the floor, holding it out to me with a pointed smirk of her own. It dangled there like a taunt, every inch of her gesture dripping with contempt. The flashback hit hard, sudden and raw, a flood of memories I had buried deep, moments I had forced myself to forget.

The humiliation roared through me, and my face burned as I looked away, my eyes finding the floor. She didn’t stop there. In one swift motion, she grabbed a towel, wrapping it around me, yanking me into her grasp with a force that nearly made me stumble. Her grip was rough, possessive, her fingers digging into my skin. Every muscle in my body screamed to fight back, to pull away, to scream, but I felt an icy numbness wash over me, stealing the strength from my limbs. I stood there, trapped, my will unraveling under the weight of her control.

My mind raced, filled with a mixture of fear, anger, and that nauseating sense of helplessness that left me paralyzed. I wanted to shove her away, to reclaim the fragments of myself that her grip crushed, but all I could feel was a hollow emptiness.

"A child like you, who has the audacity to threaten me like that after i did so much for you. Shouldn't you be grateful?"

Her hand moved to my head, fingers brushing against my hair in a mockery of tenderness before she seized the bra and forced it onto me, pulling it roughly over my shoulders and fastening it as though I were nothing but a doll to be dressed. She dragged me out of the washroom, her grip relentless, and shoved me toward the mirror, positioning me before it as if to make me witness myself through her eyes. Her fingers clamped around my right wrist, nails digging in with an animalistic fervor, cutting into my skin until I felt the sharp sting of flesh breaking.

I glanced down, detached, watching the blood slowly bead and drip from my wrist, leaving crimson streaks across my skin. She saw it too. She looked, and then, just as quickly, let go, leaving me there without a word, her silence colder than any insult. Alone, I stared at the wound, feeling the warm tears spill down my cheeks, though I barely registered the sensation. This wasn’t new. I wasn’t even surprised. Just… numb.

"Blood.."

The pain finally settled in, a dull, throbbing ache spreading through my wrist, grounding me back in the dim reality of the room. My gaze drifted to the small photo frame on the dresser. A snapshot of my younger self, standing alone and staring blankly at the camera. Next to it, another photo: my mother clutching a bottle, her eyes fixed adoringly on the man she loved, while his gaze wandered past her, lost in the crowd. And there I was, barely visible, a silent figure blending into the background.

A surge of anger flickered within me, breaking through the numbness. Without thinking, I reached out and shoved the frame hard, watching it tumble to the ground, glass shattering in a sharp, satisfying crack. The fragments lay scattered, tiny shards reflecting fractured images of a family that had always been broken.

"Do they know how evil you all are behind the closed doors? Do they know how used to you've gotten me to the pain? how I still protect your image in the public? Do you all know how pathetic that is?"

I slumped onto the edge of my bed, my hands clenched into fists, teeth gritted as a wave of anger surged through me, raw and uncontrollable. I slammed my fist against the headboard, the dull ache in my knuckles mingling with the chaos in my mind. My fingers found their way to my hair, pulling and tangling as I fought against the storm inside. I could feel myself unraveling, piece by piece, slipping closer to the edge.

Just then, my phone chimed, a notification from the dating app. I grabbed it, my frustration momentarily replaced by curiosity. As I opened the app and looked at the new match, a strange chill crawled up my spine. I scrolled through his photos, studying every detail, feeling my blood run cold.

He looked eerily familiar. His features, the shades of his skin, the exact height, even that unnervingly perfect smile, all matched an old character I’d sketched out years ago. My fingers trembled as I rifled through my sketchbook, flipping pages frantically until I landed on the drawing from 2020. There he was: my most hated character, staring back at me with that same unsettling gaze, as if he'd stepped off the page and into my life.

"Can't sleep?"

I typed a reply, hesitating before pressing send, yet I found myself getting along with him so easily, almost naturally. And yet, with every exchange, I couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that I was talking to the character I’d drawn, the one I had despised, the one that haunted me in ways I couldn’t explain. The resemblance gnawed at me, an itch I couldn’t scratch. It annoyed me, pressing on my nerves, and then it somehow soothed me, his words comforting me even as they stirred up old memories and emotions. It was infuriatingly complex, as if he were both real and imaginary, stepping between two worlds and pulling me right along with him.

That night, as I typed out messages to him through blurred tears, feeling the weight of silent prayers, I hadn’t even realized I was making, a chill settled over me. It scared me. His words seemed to reach through the screen, wrapping around me in a way that was both suffocating and magnetic. It felt as if I were standing before a mirror, facing a reflection of myself, only in another form, another life, another face.

He was everything I had been, every fractured piece of my past reflected back in his responses, his silences, his confessions. It was unnerving to feel so exposed, as though he could see through every carefully constructed barrier I’d put up. And yet, I wanted it. I wanted more of this unsettling connection, even as it pushed me to confront parts of myself I had long since tried to bury. It was like staring into the eyes of a stranger who, somehow, knew every scar, every shadow.

The night crept by, each minute stretching into the next, but the strange, lingering effect of his presence clung to me, like a shadow refusing to lift. I shifted restlessly, trying to find a comfortable position, but the unsettled feeling twisted within me, refusing to let go. Every time I closed my eyes, fragments of our conversation replayed in my mind, his words echoing with a weight that felt too familiar, too invasive. It was as if he had seeped into the quiet of the room, his mysterious existence pressing down on me, filling the space between thoughts and breaths.

Sleep eluded me, replaced by a gnawing discomfort that left me vulnerable, exposed to memories and emotions I’d tried to keep buried. I rolled onto my side, then onto my back, but no matter how I turned, I couldn’t escape the feeling that he was somehow still there, lingering, haunting the edges of my consciousness.

I crushed the sketch in my palm, the edges crinkling under my grip before I tossed it out the window, the flutter of paper disappearing into the night. I felt it deep in my gut—a warning, a knowing. This was trouble. Yet, despite that, I couldn’t deny the pull, the strange fascination that lingered. It irritated me, a gnawing sensation I couldn’t shake, a quiet frustration that simmered beneath the surface. Part of me wanted to tear away from it, to stop thinking about him altogether, but somehow, I couldn’t.

My hands still bled as I lay back, trying to ignore the sting, trying to focus on anything but the thoughts that crept into my mind. Slowly, sleep took over, though I couldn’t quite shake the unease that wrapped around me like a second skin. I knew this wasn’t good, and still, there was something in his presence, in the way he mirrored that opposite-gender alter ego I had once created, that kept me tethered. Almost too well. Too closely.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

[sadsickandstoned]

My cut's doing too much rn like girl you're just a few days old cut I reopened stop bleeding like that grow up

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

There’s a Beta standing in Eddie’s doorway. She’s slim, choppy ginger hair and red boots poking out from under the cuffs of her denim dungarees – Eddie likes her pretty much immediately.

She’s holding a plate.

She hasn’t managed to speak yet, but from down the hall, Eddie hears a voice hiss, “Robin!”

They both turn to look. The Omega of Eddie’s dreams face and...tummy...are both poking out of the doorway. He looks mortified.

“So sorry,” the Beta starts, “Steve was too embarrassed to come and ask a second time, but he’s basically had his nose pressed to the door for the past half an hour so…” she holds out the plate.

From down the hall, very faintly, the Omega, who Eddie now knows must be called ‘Steve,’ whines, “why are you like this,” and then clicks the door shut.

“I’m Robin, by the way,” and she holds out her non plate hand to shake.

Eddie ends up shaking one hand and taking the plate from the other. Eddie knew, objectively, that Steve must have a partner, but he still has to squish the disappointment of meeting them. “Eddie...just, give me a second. It’s chicken parm.”

Eddie goes and dishes up a portion, it was going to be tomorrows lunch but...he can’t deny the pretty little Omega anything. Maybe he should start cooking extra extras, even if Steve doesn’t come knocking, at least it’s a meal he can have another time.

“This is one of his favorites, no wonder he was so restless about it.”

“Yeah, well, anytime,” and Eddie could add that Robin should be making Steve’s favorites, but he doesn’t because he’s pretty sure Robin is cool and he already knows Steve is sweet and he’s just not that kind of person.

Much.

“I’m sorry, you’ve done what to the pulled pork?”

“Orange and Oregano, trust me Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind.”

“Uh hu, and someone else's by the look of it, you’ve cooked enough for us and that Omega guy twice over.” Eddie just rolls his eyes. “You got all your shit put away then?”

“Pretty much, and leave that alone.”

Dustin huffs but puts the spoon down and replaces the lid on the crock pot, “what are we having with it?”

“Was going to do dirty fries.”

“Oh my god. You’re a saint. A hero. You should be knighted like ye olde dragon-slayers of yore-”

“Yeah yeah, this will not score you any extra loot later.”

“Mayhap a smidgen of exper-” Dustin stops at the sound of knocking, looking to the door. “Is it your Omega?” He whisper hisses at Eddie.

“He’s not mine, he’s got a girlfriend,” Eddie whisper hisses back.

Doesn’t stop him pulling his shirt straight and tugging at his jeans and fluffing his hair real quick on the way to the door. All of that is kind of...reflexive, though.

Dustin’s smirk is actually slap worthy, and Eddie will get to that right after he answers the door.

“I am so sorry about this,” Steve is saying before Eddie even has the door fully open, “and I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I thought I could at least contribute.” He’s holding two plates, one empty, one stacked up with cookies, “they’re Reese’s.”

And Eddie’s mouth is watering, not just from the scent of Steve, but because he can see the chunks of partially melted Reese's pieces sticking out of the cookies, “they look incredible, thank you,” Eddie takes both plates, “it’s not actually ready yet, can I drop it by in like, thirty minutes?”

“Oh you are my hero,” Steve beams at him. It’s a happy smile, a smile that comes with the scent of pleased Omega. Happy Omega. Happy Omega with pup. The kind of smile and scent that digs it’s hooks deep into Eddie’s brain and fucking yanks.

“It’s pulled pork, would you rather fries or rice?” Eddie finds himself asking, completely on auto pilot.

“Whatever is easiest. Whatever you were already planning. Thank you so so much Eddie.”

Eddie watches Steve waddle back to his apartment down the hall before he turns, a plate in each hand, and nudges the door closed with his foot.

“Thank you so much Eddie. I made you cookies Eddie,” Dustin simpers from the couch, before making kissey noises.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Eddie stands in the hallway in his crocs. His apartment is new, so he has a strict no shoes policy; but he has a pair of crocs for in the hall and heading outside real quick. Also, they're comfortable as fuck, so Eddie refuses to be judged.

Especially since they’re black, and Dustin got him all these little button things that pop in the holes. Little swords and shields and D20’s and stuff. So they’re super cool.

Steve opens the door, wincing, one hand resting on the small of his back, but his face blooms back into the beautiful smile at the sight of Eddie. It does something, very briefly, to Eddie. That reaction. And then he viciously reminds himself that the reaction was for Eddie’s food and not at all for Eddie himself.

Steve goes to take the plate but, “it’s hot, I warmed the plate up in the stove, let me put it down somewhere for you?” A trick Eddie learned in his month of working in a kitchen one Christmas when he was a teenager, but it never left him, and he didn't want Steve’s dinner to go cold.

“Oh, gosh, you’re so thoughtful Eddie, come right in.”

Eddie’s heart gives a little flutter at Steve’s praise, and Steve shifts out of the way, letting Eddie into an apartment that’s a mirror of his own. It’s very neat and tidy inside; everything very clearly has a place. Nothing looks brand new, but everything does look well cared for.

Steve directs Eddie to the little two seater dining table, where there’s a place set. It’s so freaking adorable, a place mat with flowers and kittens printed on it, a white folded napkin, cutlery and a glass of juice set out. A single daffodil in a tiny vase.

Eddie puts the plate down carefully, turning to see Steve blushing furiously. “Sorry, I don’t get out much and I wanted to make it nice.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute,” Eddie says, even as he feels himself grow irritated yet again with Robin, Steve’s nose twitches, eyeing Eddie with concern, so he does his best to push it down, “well,” Eddie tries his best to be cheerful, “I really hope you enjoy it. Maybe your girlfriend will take you out tomorrow?” He tries to say that with no hint of spite whatsoever.

Steve blinks at him, “girlfriend?”

“Robin? I thought...aren’t you two..?”

Steve snorts a laugh, actually ugly laughs and snorts like a cute little piggy and has to bring his hand up to his face to try and hide his reaction, “no. No, she’s my best friend. She’s home with her girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Eddie says, processing, “oh. Right sorry, I just, assumed…” he can’t stop his eyes from, briefly, flicking to Steve’s tummy.

“It’s okay,” Steve’s smiling at him, “you can ask.”

“Well...I mean when I thought you were with Robin I just assumed you’d used a donor or…”

“Yep!” Steve pops the ‘P’. “I did do that, and I did go to the appointments with Robin, but I’m single. Going it alone.”

And then Steve does quite possibly the sexiest thing Eddie’s ever seen in his entire life; he bares his throat, “see, no bite.”

Eddie has to clear his throat and shift a little where he's standing, lest his inconvenient biological reaction become overly obvious, “why did you decide to, uhm…”

Steve shrugs, smiling happily, “guess I just never was lucky enough to meet the right Alpha.”

And then Steve’s tummy rumbles very aggressively.

“I’ll let you eat your-”

“Gosh excuse me I’m-”

They speak at the same time, and then both end up laughing.

“I’ll leave you to your dinner,”

“Thanks again Eddie, I really do appreciate it.”

Part three

[binkrls]

euuuu👆🏼👆🏼👆🏼