#and there were so many bugs. everywhere. in the entire thing

[imjustli]

Well. Found the source of those bugs

[luetta]

idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.

some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.

so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.

before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'

so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.

this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.

it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.

it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.

another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.

and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.

but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.

crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.

a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.

[alexanderwales]

When I was a teenager I thought we were going to have robots everywhere, like the future was going to be the Jetsons, tiny robots and big robots that would just do everything. Most of this was not reading scifi, it was reading Hans Moravec and Ray Kurzweil.

And robots do have their place, but it's mostly as highly specialized machines doing jobs that are either highly repetitive or very bespoke but programmable. Everything else?

The dream is to have something that can replace a human, a humaniform robot that can just slot right into the spot a human once occupied, serving drinks or caring for the elderly, and I just have so much trouble taking the idea seriously now. Maybe it's because I've spent time in the software industry and have seen how errors and issues accumulate, and how many damned corner case you need to account for even if you're in a walled garden. But the idea of actually being able to get to the point where these things are fulfilling the promises made about them still seems laughable, and we're closer than we've ever been.

Last year Amazon began doing a trial of Digit, one of these vaguely human robots, and I cannot tell how much this is a stunt and how much this is actually useful and cost-effective. Knowing how companies work, there is every incentive for the robot-makers to "trial" their product in very limited capacity at very unsustainable costs, maybe even free, which is then used for "exposure" in order to hype the market and ideally get some funding to make the thing actually work, or work within costs, or give the devs and engineers some time to work out the bugs. I don't think any robot company owes me a look at their finances or the parameters of their deals, but it sure would be nice if every single article about this weren't a puff piece written exactly how I would expect both companies want it written.

And Boston Dynamics has Spot deployed, but reading their press releases makes me cringe from the corpospeak, and I'm still left questioning how much this is "real" and how much it's a gimmick meant to fund future investment. It's entirely possible I'm just a curmudgeon, but it feels like everyone has something to sell, and the market for someone saying "this is actually just non-viable at these costs" is very small.

The early 2000s optimism has turned me into such a cynic where technology is concerned. I need to go crack my copy of The Singularity is Near and see what, at 18, I thought the future was going to be like. My stance, until I actually see something that's not a carefully staged press demonstration, is that this particular bit of "the future" has more catches, costs, and problems than it wants to show the public.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader

Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?

Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)

Word Count: 2,411

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.

Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.

There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.

Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.

When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.

The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.

----

Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.

A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.

“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”

There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.

“Say that again.”

Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.

“How may I be of use?”

The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.

“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”

His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.

“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.

Alastor raised his eyebrows.

“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”

Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.

“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.

The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.

Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.

“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”

“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.

Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.

“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”

Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.

It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.

“Y/n?”

“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.

Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.

“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”

“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”

“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”

“I know.” she responded almost immediately.

“No, y-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”

Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”

“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.

There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.

“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”

Y/n’s eyes went wide.

“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”

“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”

“I loved you. I still do.”

Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.

“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.

Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.

“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”

A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.

“Al, I have to go.”

“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”

“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”

As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.

“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”

A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.

“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”

He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”

“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”

Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.

“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”

“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.

“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.

Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.

“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”

As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.

“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.

Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.

“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”

Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.

“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”

——

Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)

[justmylvr]

optimism times two.

new dad!kirishima eijirou x implied fem reader.

a/n: this was SO fun. there will be a part 2.

you and kirishima had wanted kids since you tw got married, three years ago. you guys weren't sure how many you wanted but eventually you'd figure it out, right?

what you did not expect was shortly after finding out about your pregnancy, you found out you were having twins. two at once was daunting, the mere idea of it made your head spin. eijirou almost fainted at that appointment. he was quick to reassure you that it would be okay, you guys would figure it out!

the pregnancy was.. something in it's own right. eijirou was practically bubbling with nerves the entire pregnancy, taking the day off whenever you had an appointment, just incase. he was constantly trying to feed you, making you lay down, everything.

once the twins were born, he still hadn't calmed down. you had a son and daughter, both absolutely wonderful. daiki and juna are the names you chose, not wanting to chose any matching names.

fast forward to present day, the twins were 10 months old. they hit their milestones quickly, infact they were ahead of the curve. their personalities were entirely different which made them far easier to tell apart. daiki was shy, gentle, often following his sister. juna was the complete opposite, she would do some of the most dangerous things a baby could do. she would pull on any cords, pull things off ledges, opt for rolling down the stairs instead of waiting to be picked up. most importantly, she always protected her brother. there wasn't necessarily much danger, though each time they got vaccines, she'd fuss and cry till she finally got her hands on daiki.

juna loved being picked up, she loved playtime more than anything. daiki preferred a slower, calmer playtime but he didn't mind when his sister brought him along.

one specific thing she adored was when eijirou would pick her up and do all kinds of tricks with her. she liked to fly, spin in circles till they fell, and to be tossed in the air. he was more than willing.

"look baby! our little juna is a butterfly!" he cheered, flying her around the nursery that you and daiki were in. he lifted her up and down, gliding through the air.

there wasn't a corner of the room that wasn't filled with her giggled. she had a bright, fairly gummy smile on her face as she pretended to be a butterfly. you looked to your lap where the more temperate twin sat, smiling at the look on his face. he watched his sister with such an interest, he liked to watch but never fully participated.

"careful, don't make her sick, babe." you stressed. he was always careful with her, you knew he wouldn't hurt her ever. though you also didn't want her to throw up her dinner.

"we're always careful, aren't we, bug?" he hummed, holding her infront of himself. he squished her cheeks with two of his fingers, she quickly grabbed his fingers, waving her little fists around.

daiki looked up to you, pulling at your sweater as he repeated 'mama' over and over again till you turned all your attention to him. he smiled at you, his other hand holding a small stuffed elephant he brought everywhere. he pushed the toy against your chest, babbling something till you took the toy.

eijirou got down to the floor with you two, plopping your daughter gently on the floor. The two twins immediately crawled to eachother, placing open mouthed kisses on one another cheeks. daiki eagerly took his toy back, handing it to his sister happily.

all you and eijirou could do was smile at the pair, he quickly scooted next to you. "told you we can do it."

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You — Part 20

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: I’ve been slumped over my computer like a living Fibonacci spiral—also, pretty sure I’ve proofread the first half of this but my memory isn’t that great so I’ll check in the morning (I should have been asleep about two and a half hours ago—I’m so sorry if there are errors)

word count: 7,869

-Part 19- -Part 21-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s quiet. 

There’s nothing in your mind, and it’s quiet. 

No skittish thoughts, or fleeting worry. No frantic heartbeat to wake up to, nor an anxious tug of energy hurrying you along to get out of bed for fear of seeming lazy. It’s quiet. 

The sheets still smell faintly of gardenia, clinging to the delicate fibres relentlessly. How? Maybe it’s just lodged itself in your nose. 

There’s no sunlight this morning—it’s hard to tell the time. A slight outline presents itself on the edge of the mattress, beginning to slide down onto the floorboards. It’s watery and pale, hardly there. Is it warm? You can’t feel anything on your hands… 

You can’t feel anything on your hands. 

The curtains are open, and grey sky fills the window panes. Dark and deep. Probably not deep enough to signal a storm…it would be nice if it stormed though. It feels as though time has paused when it does. With rain so thick and heavy. The rain’s nice, sometimes. It waters things, and gives smells a new shade of depth. When it rains, you remember the shack. How the smell of damp was everywhere. In clothes, in hair, in sheets and furniture. 

These sheets are dry, though. Dry and warm, and keeping you wrapped up and comfy. Heat having sunk into your body, feeling so rarely soft anymore. 

A bell chimes in the far distance, metallic and sturdy. Counting to nine.

You’ve slept in. Wasted hours, already. Wasted, wasted, wasted, wasted away. Wasted away in bed. Throwing time out the window. Letting it slip between your fingers. Draining it out of sight, watching it gush far from your clutch while you sleep. Sleep all your time away. 

Wouldn’t that be nice. 

————

A bell chimes in the far distance, metallic and sturdy, clanging pain through your mind. 

Counting to eleven. 

There’s no point in getting up now. The good part of the day has gone. The early morning when it’s quiet and fresh, and sunlight weakly trickles across the horizon. Glittering upon the frost that’s begun to dust the morning cityscape. Heavy fog rolling off the Sidra, steaming in the early hours to smudge the nearby streets and houses in a dreamlike blur. Even if it bites, it’s a precious part of your morning, only occasionally daring to venture out into it. To walk the misty streets. It’s peaceful, and quiet. Not many folk are about at that time, most either beginning to wake up, or beginning to go to sleep. You have the streets mostly to yourself. 

Though with winter setting in, it’s getting dark. Darker in the mornings. Dreary and dismal, with rain softly spraying in the air as it floats down like powder. Only wet, and cold. Like walking through a fine mist, one that shimmers with iridescence if the sun catches it at the right time. Spiriting you away to another world entirely. Your Quiet Moments. 

The clock chimes a short succession of notes for quarter past. 

You sink into bed. 

Warm and welcoming. 

————

A bell chimes in the distance, metallic and sturdy. Three O’clock. 

It’s afternoon. 

Your head pounds when you open your lids, eyes straining with pressure, and they fall back closed. The light is grey—heavy grey—and cloudy. Droplets were on the outer winder pane.

Evergreen branches holding full pinecones. Damp and gleaming. Spiderwebs with dew drops jeweling them. Bugs crawling along the cracks of bark. Twigs snapping beneath human feet, the smell. Filling your lungs with fresh air, alone in the woods. The twigs might not snap any longer. The leaves might not rustle when you walk over them. Losing the weight of presence. 

The forest with the leaves of yellow, and red, and orange, sometimes capillaries of light green or brown shot through them. Silver bark that had eyes in it, branches growing out like nerves. The forest floor thick with earth, creatures scuttling about, water gathering in the small pools created by tree roots. Mushrooms growing from the underside of the forest floor, some a grey brown, others a chalky red with white drops speckling them. A few had been a murky green, with smaller fungi growing from the parent’s trunk. 

You should have taken it in more, gathered the details from real life instead of giving them form through the illustrations. If you ever get to go back, you’ll remember more. Pluck leaves from the forest floor and dry them out in a candle lit room, pressing them between the empty pages of a leather-bound book. Fungi have simple structures, and fae eyesight would surely lend you a hand—maybe you could manage an illustration of your own. They’re just shapes, after all. Then you could splash some watery colour over them, adding liquid to powdered pigment. Start a journal of some sorts. Of all the things you get to see. 

But you’d have to get out of bed to start, and it’s already three O’clock. 

You won’t be able to get anything done, now. You should wait until tomorrow. Then you can get up in the misty morning. Find an empty book somewhere. Feyre must have one. Could you borrow one? Wouldn’t that be fun? 

Fun. 

Anticipation filters through your blood. Something to do. Something to work on. Something to make. Something real, to keep. To remember things with. To look at when you forget. 

That would be nice. 

————

A bell chimes, ringing through your head. Six O’clock. 

Your mind is aching. Behind your eyes, between your brows. You’ve slept too long. 

Gods, you feel sick. 

You roll off your front, settling on your side, hugging the duvet closer. 

No—no. You’re definitely going to be sick. 

The duvet flies off you as bare feet slap across the tiles of the bathroom, making it to the latrine. You wait, knees pressing to the cool floor, arms shaking as you push your hair away. You don’t have to wait long, fortunately. 

It’s over quick enough. Over and done with. Relief settles through you—it’s over. Your mouth tastes awful, though, and you go to the sink to clean yourself up. Rid yourself of the flavour that’s stuck to your throat and tongue. It takes a while for that strange notch to go away—the one that’s always present after regurgitating, like there’s a lump of something lodged there that you have to swallow around. And each time it refreshes the flavour of your stomach. You grimace. 

At least it’s over, now. 

You hastily clean up the red droplets on the white porcelain. That’s new. 

You sigh heavily, exhaustion weighing on you. You and your now empty stomach. Whatever. You’re up now. Might as well stay up. No point in going back to bed. 

Thankfully your body is still sustaining its warmth from sleep, but it’s beginning to cool with so little maintaining it. Time to wash and dress, then. 

You stand at the wardrobe for what feels like an hour, trying to figure out what you’d like to wear. None of the colours are particularly appealing tonight. Maybe since it’s already evening you could get away with wearing something slightly cosier? Or why care at all—you’re going to cover it all up with a robe anyway. No one’s going to see what you’re wearing, you should go for comfort. 

But you still want to look nice. 

Your head hangs between your shoulders, eyes shutting briefly with exhaustion. At least you’re feeling relatively well-rested. There’s that. 

The missed appointment crosses your mind. Madja. Azriel. You were supposed to see both of them today. Did you sleep through both? And Bas. You were supposed to see Bas soon. Is it too late to go now? It’s too dark. And cold. Miserable. He probably won’t want you inside, either, so you’ll be on the doorstep for most of it, or maybe the entrance hall. 

It’s not happening. 

Is it too late to see Azriel? 

You don’t want to. Not so far into the evening. He’ll ask about the conversation with Nesta, and you’ll have to tell him, and you don’t want to. Your head falls again with fatigue. So much. So much to do. Should have done. You’re getting cold. At least the faelight is warm. Or looks warm. Yellow and orange on pale wallpaper. Your thoughts feel sluggish. 

With a sigh, you pull out a gown—grey as the skies—and shuffle yourself into it, pulling the strings taut so the fabric remains together without being tight. And pull a robe over it. Warm but polite. Put together enough. It doesn’t look like you’ve been asleep all day, then woken to throw up—that’s…enough. 

You go to your window, peeking out through the curtains, wondering if you’ll see any people in the street. At this time a few faelights might be lighting the street, two or three dimly shining a glow onto the cobbles, but for the most part the city is dark for the sake of the stars. It’s peaceful in a way, and makes you feel a little better about having wasted the light away. What good is the day in a city of Night, anyway? There’ll probably be an equal number of shops open at this time as there would at six in the morning. Maybe more, if you think about it. There’s some comfort. Maybe you can shift your schedule to fit the night. That way you won’t have the constant awareness of the day going by.

The sun is a pleasant accessory, but it shows the passage of time too obviously. It’s easy to tell when it’s early morning, when it’s midday, afternoon, evening. Maybe the night has the moon, and maybe the stars will eventually come to indicate time passing should you become well-acquainted enough with how they look, but you might be afforded some time to yourself, unaware of life draining away. Though that’s a very human outlook. 

Your brows furrow. 

Does the passage of time even bother immortals? Do they feel the need to hurry, and get things done? Having grown up without an end? What differences does it make, to live knowing you won’t die? 

————

There’s no one downstairs, and it’s quiet. 

Even straining your ears, you struggle to hear anyone—they must all be out. 

Maybe they’re having a meal at some evening restaurant. 

Maybe they’re having fun.

You tread over to the kitchen to make yourself some tea but find the room completely dark. The faelights are out, allowing only that faint grey light to filter through the— The curtains are closed. Huh. They must have left… Strange to draw the curtains though… On second thought, you don’t really feel like putting liquid in your stomach just yet. Maybe some plain bread would be nice. More digestible, too.

Taking your plated bread and butter with you, you head over to the living room, passing through the entrance hall with the stairs that lead up to the first floor, cutting through to the living room that also overlooks the front garden. You pause when you recognise Feyre’s shape on one of the sofas, a small, winged bundle propped up in her lap, cheek laying across her chest. 

“Feyre?” You murmur quietly, incase he’s sleeping. Deep, blue-grey eye lift heavily away from her baby, her palm stroking the crown of his head. Brows furrow over half-lidded eyes, “couldn’t sleep?” 

“No. I slept all through today, actually,” you reply, making to settle at the other end of the sofa, so you can balance your plate on the plush arm. “Do you know what happened with Madja? I don’t know what happened today—I guess I just really needed the extra sleep. I didn’t mean to sleep through it all.” 

Feyre’s brows furrow, her eyes squinting as she looks over to you. “It’s six in the morning. What are you talking about?”  

“It’s six in the evening,” you counter with equally furrowed brows. “I heard the bells go. At nine, eleven, three, and six.” 

“No, it’s definitely six in the morning,” she replies wearily, “everyone’s asleep, and the lights are off.” 

You blink, looking around. “It’s six in the morning?” She mumbles something that sounds like agreement. Pulls the blanket tighter around the both of them. Nuzzles at the top of Nyx’s head. “Did he wake up early?” You ask, trying to sound normal through the confusion that’s happening in your mind. Dreams can be so alarmingly powerful at times. 

“Mhmm. He’s probably missing his papa,” Feyre mumbles against his head, smiling faintly, pulling back to peer down at their baby, stroking his back tenderly beneath the blanket, habitually avoiding his still-developing wings. “Isn’t that right? Missing papa? He’ll be back today. He hates being away from you.” She kisses the crown of his head once. Twice. Brushes her nose against him, inhaling softly, still smiling despite the obvious fatigue and strain lining her features. There are half-circles beneath her eyes. Her skin taking on a slightly bluish tint in the corners of her eye-bags, shadow making them more pronounced than usual. 

“Rhys’ away?” You ask quietly, beginning to chew on your food. 

“Up in Illyria for the night.” She sighs, readjusting her hold on Nyx. You hum, not wanting to press her on it. You chew on more of the bread quietly, waiting to see how your stomach manages it. You can’t stop thinking about the strain in her features. 

“Is everything okay?” You whisper, glancing at her. “Are we…is it safe now?” 

“Rhys says there’s always a revolt brewing up in Illyria,” she mumbles without opening her eyes. “Says they’d love to stick a knife in his back one day. It’s the same with the Hewn City. A lot of strained ties after the war. We’re still dealing with the aftermath of it all.” 

“But no immediate looming threat?” You ask. Maybe the shadows are just making her fatigue more prominent that it actually is. Maybe you’re bothering her for no reason. 

You shouldn’t be asking her all these heavy questions right now. 

Her body stutters, and her lips have twisted down. A wet droplet shines on Nyx’s head.

“Feyre?” You whisper, shuffling closer. “Feyre, what’s wrong?” Her shoulders shudder under your arm, hand trying to soothe down her back. She sniffles, then tightens her hold on Nyx, hoping she won’t wake him. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Feyre whispers against his hair. Another tear drips down her cheek, and you settle a little closer to her side. “I’ve got no idea. There’s so much to do, and so much to learn… Rhys says he can manage it… I don’t have to take on any more, but I can’t leave it all up to him.” Another tear falls, and her brows squeeze together over tightly shut eyes, the interior of her lower lip clasped between her teeth. 

You don’t know what to say to comfort her, so settle for remaining beside her, arm wrapped over her shoulders. She’s trying to keep her eyes squeezed shut, her brows knitted together tight, nose still grazing Nyx’s sleeping head. You’re thankful he hasn’t woken up. 

“Elain said…” you fumble, unsure. “Mentioned you might like to do something for your birthday.” Feyre sniffles, but you can pick out enough movement that looks like a nod. “Have you…is there anything in particular you’ve thought of?” 

She shakes her head. “There might not be time.” 

You glance at her, heart sinking slightly, hand rubbing over her shoulder. “There’ll be time,” you whisper, not sure where the conviction comes from. “What would you like to do though, if time wasn’t an issue?” Feyre doesn’t respond, her throat working silently. Your tongue flicks out over your lips, “what about visiting the coast? There are a few islands in Night Court territory, we could explore a few?” 

Her body goes rigid, brows squeezing shut tighter if possible, shaking her head. Her fingers tremble, and Nyx’s face scrunches in his sleep. You worry he’s about to wake. 

“Okay, a definite no to that one,” you murmur, forcing some lightness into your voice. “What about…just a quiet day at home? We could…stay in? And talk amongst ourselves?” Her shoulders begin to relax, but she shakes her head. “I don’t want…I like it…love it here, but…” 

“Just not on your birthday?” She nods. You nod back. “Got it. Somewhere outside? Or away a bit?” She nods again, and your heart begins to steady. You’re getting somewhere with this. 

“Okay…then how about…” Oh dear. This is what you get for keeping to yourself for so long. What would she like? 

The silence is stretching…you need to hurry up…think of something to do…something she’ll like that isn’t boring and generic…“Painting?” 

She seems to pause for a moment, and an instinct that isn’t something human urges you forward. “We could take turns? So you aren’t always the one in the chair working? I don’t know how good they’d be, but we could try? I’m sure we could manage some basic patterns. How hard could circles be?” A quiet, wet laugh escapes her lips, and you hold back an obvious sigh. 

“Harder than you’d think,” she whispers, sniffing again, raising one hand to wipe her nose on her arm. “Well then how about we each take turns trying to paint things, and you can laugh at how disfigured our basic shapes are, hm? What about that?” 

Feyre nods her head gently. “I’d like that,” she whispers, “as long as I can keep them afterwards.” 

“I’m not sure you’ll have anything worth keeping,” you mutter, half-joking, “but if that’s what you want…”

“I do,” she replies firmly, making you glance down at her in slight surprise. But then you nod. “Okay… Let’s do that.” 

In the back of your mind, you consider broaching the subject of borrowing—acquiring—a sketchbook, or journal of sorts, but she looks so tired. She looks about ready to fall asleep. That’s probably why she kept the lights off, so the both of them might be able to settle back down.

Her eyes have fallen shut, nose and mouth resting atop his head, keeping him close to her bare skin beneath. He looks like he’s sleeping peacefully. His wings kick in his sleep, and your lips twitch. 

As quietly as you can you stand from the sofa, untangling yourself, making sure to be silent as you make back for your bedroom, pausing a few paces from the sofa to look back at them. Feyre seems so tired, so small, bundled up in the corner of the sofa with her baby. 

She looks like your little sister again, in a way. 

Your lips open, the first of three words sitting quietly on your tongue, but… 

You don’t want to risk waking them. You don’t need to say it. It would probably come out too loud, anyway. 

It would be strange to announce it out of nowhere. 

You don’t need to say it. 

————

You made the mistake of falling back asleep, and now your head hurts. 

You don’t want to open your eyes, for fear of what the clock might tell you. 

If you were given another chance to restart the day, and wasted it again, you might just throw yourself out the window. 

Your brows furrow in disagreement, disliking the flippant thought. Your eyes open on their own, glancing to the clock, not giving yourself the opportunity to doubt anything. It’s about nine o’clock. 

You can work with that. You can get up now, and the day is still ahead of you. It’s not wasted, and you haven’t missed anything. 

Glancing to your side table, you spot a half eaten piece of bread on a plate. Your brows furrow tighter, fingers rubbing at your forehead—what was the dream part? Did you actually see Feyre? It’s all so foggy first thing in the morning. 

The plate’s there, it has crumbs, and it has bread on it. 

You repeat those facts in your head, slowly but surely driving away the haze that’s settled over your mind. Reorganising those events and sectioning dream off from reality. 

A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you glance about your bedroom. You’re still dressed as you were, and you feel fine—no churning stomach, no tingling skin…you’re fine. Breathing is coming easy to you, and while you fail to completely feel the scratch of the sheets beneath your fingertips, there’s enough sense still left in the skin for you to pick up on its softness. 

It’s nine o’clock. 

You groan into your pillow, feeling restless. What can you do today? The weather’s still grey, soft sprays of rain floating down from the sky, misting the air, and you think you spot the faintest trace of condensation in the corners of the glass window panes. Maybe it won’t immediately cheer your spirits, but you can try going outside. Even if it means wandering aimlessly for an hour or so, it’s nice to sometimes look at things and recognise them. Maybe you’ll even end up wandering your way to Bas’ house, or Nesta’s—though you’re not sure you’re ready to see either of them again, with the grey of your heart. 

Pulling a sigh into your lungs, you push up from the bed, dragging yourself to the door to head down the hallway to Azriel. He’ll’ve had his conversation with Mor by now. Will have more questions to ask you. Clarifications to make. It’s tiring. 

You’re tired. 

————

As usual, you knock on his door, entering when he calls, keeping the shawl wrapped closely around your shoulders, remembering how cold he likes it. 

You quietly walk inside, socked-feet pitter-patting across the floorboards, gloved fingers pulling the shawl a little closer.

Hazel eyes flick over to you, sharp and observing. You’d like to hide from them, sometimes, for fear of what he’ll see. “Did you get a chance speak with her?” He inquires. Like I asked?

“It’s barely been a day.” You take the seat at his bedside, organising your skirts carefully so they won’t crumple or wrinkle while you’re sat. “But yes, we spoke.” 

“I’m glad.” He’s watching you, a curve to his under eyes, a small upward tilt to his lips. “How was it?”

Your shoulders roll in an uncommitted shrug. “It happened.” 

A beat passes, and he glances out the window, gazing at the grey sky. “Did you find it helpful?” 

“Not particularly.” 

Hazel eyes move over you, wrapping you in their sight. “Change won’t immediately occur. You should give it time.” 

“You said I just needed to try speaking with her once.” 

“It might be better—for you—if you tried again.” His hands are resting by his sides atop the sheets. Wings pressed to the pillows. “What did you speak about?” 

“You said I just needed to try speaking with her once.” 

“And did you? Have an honest conversation with her, about her experiences and your own?”

The pencil has been moved from where it was resting yesterday, now caught between the pages of the notebook. There’s a mug of tea on the tabletop too, completely cold and untouched, an empty plate by its side. A different book besides the cup, this one with crisp, pale edges. 

“Did you?” He reminds, drawing you out of arbitrary thought. 

There’s a full glass of water, too. It has a hexagonal base, with the six sides made into the shape of small arches, before expanding into a circular top to drink from. The light filters through it, pale and bright, distinctly liquid-like. His eyes are on you, lips set in a line, brows resting as they normally might on his expressionless face. His hair has a slight curl over his forehead. 

You love this male. With his blank eyes and blandly set mouth. With his uncaring attitude toward you, and easy disregard for things out of his control. You have to love him, even if you can’t feel it right now. It’s just a numb patch. 

Even if your heart isn’t beating the way it usually does, and you don’t feel as skittish as you usually do, it’s easy to pick out you feel differently for him that for anyone else. 

Have you ever felt this way over someone else? No, you don’t think so. What is it, though? Is there a reason? He used to make you smile a lot more. He used to make you feel a bit like yourself again. Or perhaps, who you could have been if there hadn’t been so many downfalls in your childhood. 

Oh. 

You don’t want to be here right now. That’s what’s going on. 

Where would you like to be? In your room? No. With Feyre, then? Maybe, but not particularly. With Elain? Nesta? No, and no. The walk was nice though, over to Nesta’s house. Maybe just walking somewhere, in the cold. Treading through frost, and streets that look as shut down as your mind. Noticing things is nice. Seeing plants you recognise, and other architecture features you’ve read about in real life. That’s nice. Maybe a walk is what you want. It feels right. 

How long has it been since you’ve seen Bas? Two days? Can you see him today? Do you want to? It’s a nice question to ask yourself, at least. Do I want to? Do you want to see Bas today? Yes, that would be nice. But would he still be upset with you? He might still be upset with you. Do you still want to see Bas today? Yes, that would be nice. Why? You miss the smell of his home, a lot. The smell of rosemary, and freshly tilled earth, you think. Something like that, anyway. The smell of the outdoors, even if you don’t like it that much. 

Do you not like the outdoors? You like the colours of the streets under frost. It gives everything a slightly glacial, pale purple look. And it all sparkles. Even in the cold. You can appreciate the niceness of it, now you’re distant from it. 

You’re a bit like the frost, Azriel.

Hazel eyes blink. “I am?” 

“Yes I did speak with her. It was a bit helpful, in a way, but I didn’t like how inorganic it was. I don’t like scheduling appointments for my vulnerability. I’d prefer for it to be more spontaneous, and my own choice.” The fabric of your skirts have managed to wrinkle themselves. You release the material from the tight curve of your fingers. “But I liked it being mutual.”

His wings rustle faintly against the pillows, cold air breezing through the room. A latch clicks faintly as the window shuts. 

“It sounds like you enjoyed it a little. Why not try it again?” 

Because you said once. You said once, and then I could speak with you. 

Never mind.

You stand from the seat, pulling up your gloves. You turn from his bed. It would be nice to lie in bed. Beneath the covers, in the warmth. Wrapped in heat, with bare skin feeling the hitch of the fabric, the weight of the duvet. But it would be nice to see Bas. To walk down the quiet streets, where you’re free to observe at your own leisure, and take things in at a pace that suits you. 

You wish conversations with him were simpler, but you find yourself often leaving them feeling lost. 

He calls after you, but his voice sounds so far away you think you might have imagined it. Your mind playing games with your reality in order to cope. Whether or not he truly did call after you, you won’t verify for fear of it being false and turning around to nothing. So you keep going. 

You wish you didn’t have to speak with him. Wish you didn’t have to see him. Wish you didn’t have to look at him and be reminded of how effortlessly he can pluck at your heartstrings, so often stringing out minor chords instead of the light and skipping arpeggios that used to make you beam. You wish you never told him how you felt. It would have all been so much better if you kept your mouth shut. If you’d just seen how obviously he was interested in her. It was a stupid decision to make—how could you have hoped for it to end in any other result? 

It would be better to shut him out. You’re tired of always being the one with her heart in her hand while he keeps his far away from sight, somewhere you’ll never find. 

Why does it always have to be you opening up, when he gives nothing in return? 

————

“And how are you feeling this morning?” Madja asks with a smile on her round face. 

You manage a half smile in return, fingers curling in the duvet to pull it further up, hugging your shawl closer. “Good, for the most part,” you answer honestly. Your throat rolls, fingers playing with the fabric of the duvet sheet, “and you?” 

“Good,” she answers, taking her seat at your side. “Tell me, did you come up with anything you found suiting?”

The smile slips away, head dipping. “No, I…I don’t think I’ve been thinking much over the past day.” 

“You don’t think you’ve been thinking much?” Madja laughs, “I’m afraid we don’t have a choice in whether we think or not. The mind will always be active, whether you’re awake or asleep, it simply depends on whether you recall the thoughts.” Your lips remain in an undisturbed line but your nostrils flare with amusement. “I actually had quite a strange sequence of dreams this morning,” you begin, checking her face for approval before continuing. “I dreamed that I spent the day in bed, and the time kept on passing beyond my control. When I woke up I thought it was six in the evening due to the bells, but it was morning.” 

“The mind can convince you of strange things,” Madja agrees. 

A beat passes, and you shift on the mattress. “Madja, I…I’ve been experiencing some things that I…” Your lips tug down in the corners. “…that I don’t think…” 

The healer nods, understanding your hesitance to complete the sentence. “Can you tell me what they are?” The breath doesn’t come easily to your lungs, but it’s inhaled nonetheless. “This morning, when I woke, I experienced nausea—as I sometimes do…” Madja sits attentively, listening. “I went straight to the washroom, and I…” You make a slow tumbling-spinning gesture with your hands. Madja nods. “Then I…I cleaned myself up, but there was—…there was blood. On the seat, I mean, and I could taste it.” 

Madja’s expression remains calm, showing no signs of repulsion nor alarm, so you swallow, forcing yourself to continue. “Do you…” You cut yourself off—it doesn’t matter whether or not she knows you went to Autumn—that part can be forgotten. “I had some unpleasant sweats maybe a fortnight  or so ago, and…” You struggle to get the words up, heart pounding as shame and embarrassment try to strangle your throat shut. “…I saw blood then, too. When I visited the—…the washroom. It wasn’t my cycle,” you add on the end. You can’t look at her. 

“Did you feel any pain leading up to either of those occasions?” She asks, keeping the rhythm of her words steady. You shake your head. “And have you noticed any blood while visiting the washroom since then?” 

Heat scalds your skin. “I try not to look. But I don’t think so.” In your periphery she nods, but solemn quiet settles. 

Then she reaches out and touches your hand. “Don’t be afraid,” she tells you, squeezing. “People are with you.” 

You nod, unknowing how else to respond to the strange set of words. Madja smiles, but there’s something withheld from it. She sighs, shaking it off. “Now, let’s get started with that checkup, shall we?” 

You don’t speak as much as you usually do while her magic seeks out those bunches of tissue, purging them from your body. You’re thankful for the peace, in a way. Needing some time to come back to life after the mood that had found you this morning. Madja’s as gentle as she always is, careful and tender in her touch as that tingly magic warms your skin, sending targeted bursts deeper. She sits back, laying your hands to rest, then seems to change her mind, touching them again. 

“There’s no easy way to say what I’m about to tell you.” The gentle heat of her magic tingles at the surface of your skin, setting into your carpals, between your knuckles. “How much do you know about Magic Development Theory?” 

“A little,” you answer, searching her face. “I know it isn’t well researched among High Fae, and lesser so amongst faeries…”

“But you know it touches on the development of magic in correlation with physical and mental progression?” You nod. Madja’s lips purse, squeezing your hand gently. “You and your sisters came into magic…in essence, unnaturally. Your bodies didn’t go through the preparations most born-fae experience naturally—that is, the gradual deepening of power. That phase is a crucial part of development, and can cause irreversible damage if something is caused to suppress it. Of course there are exceptions to this—I believe Morrigan was rather unfortunate in that respect as her magic awoke all at once, and the High Lord had a similar experience—but they are by no means normal circumstances. Even if the awakening of power was abrupt, their bodies were prepared for the sharp exhaustion it would cause, while it’s likely that you and your sisters were not afforded that preparation due to your circumstances.” 

“So my body is…you think it’s damaged from two years ago?” You ask, strangely relieved there might be an explanation, even if it might be unpleasant. Just to know what’s going on with your body, to have a reason for night sweats and fevers and nausea and blood. Dizziness and delusion. “Perhaps not from your initial Making, but you’ve told me you’ve had trouble with your magic—that it took these years to manifest?” 

You nod. 

“And that it’s caused you pain in the past? Along with those two experiences you told me?” 

Blood drains from your skin, but you nod again.

Madja strokes her thumb across your knuckles, pushing that comforting warmth into your skin. “Being unable to release your Cauldron-given magic likely means to give it relief, it was infused into your own body. Whatever the Cauldron gave you—that is likely the reason you experience the pain you do.”

“Because it’s inside of me?” The healer nods solemnly. “And it’s— You think it may be irreversible by this point?” 

Madja’s throat rolls. “It is.” 

You swallow thickly, turning your gaze from her, staring instead down at the speckled and flaky skin of your hands. The dry scaliness of your arms. 

You turn back to her, looking feverishly. “It doesn’t hurt as much anymore… Might that not be a sign it can heal?” 

Madja pauses, remaining steady. However she forms her reply…it will matter to you, how she answers. 

Her eyes slide shut, mouth falling to a calm line before she looks at you again. 

She hands you the full glass from your bedside.

“Will you let me try and show you a precious silver lining?” 

————

You can hear the rain from outside, pelting against the ink-black window panes. 

Night has fallen. 

You’ve decided you won’t yet attempt to digest your earlier appointment with Madja—that you’re magic will cause you pain until you die…to never be able to use it properly without that lacerating burn…to be well and truly useless after all… 

Face it tomorrow. 

And yet tears are rising again. 

If you just hadn’t been so scared of it. If you hadn’t subconsciously locked it up so thoroughly. It’s stupid to think that—you didn’t even have any choice in it. 

But if things had been different and you’d be bolder… If you could have been more like Feyre in the woods, or Nesta with her silver flames… If you weren’t so inherently afraid, on such a subconscious level. 

You could have lived and thrived. Explored whatever the Cauldron gave you. And now it’s forever cut off from you. 

You’ll never be able to save anyone with magic like this. 

It’ll never have meant anything. 

————

Three whisper-quiet knocks are landed to your bedroom door, and you pull your head up from the desk. 

You don’t rise from your seat. You don’t want to move. 

Nobody knows you’re awake. You’ll happily pretend you’re asleep. 

Seconds tick by, and you wait with a spiking heartbeat to hear whether they’ll knock again. You don’t know why, but you feel like it’s Feyre. Your little sister stood outside that door, hoping to be let in. After you’ve tried to shut them out for so long. Well, apart from Elain. 

Your lower lip wobbles, vision turning blurry. You’re in a rather regretful mood, apparently, un-helped by the rain outside. It would be nice if these moods didn’t plague your mind so frequently and intensely. If your mind would let you be happy. 

Something hot and wet drips down your face, and you wipe your cheek, blinking away the remaining wetness. 

You think back to this morning, when you nearly told her you loved her. 

You could have died without her in the woods. You probably all would have. You could have easily died in the Cauldron too—they didn’t know what they were doing. Could have died during the war, if they’d aimed the Cauldron to the camps instead of the skies. Life isn’t guaranteed…

The seat is pushed back from your haste, striding across the room and opening the door outwards, those three words trembling in your mouth. 

Marginally widened, dark hazel eyes peer down at you, having narrowly missed having a door flung into his face. You jolt with recognition, hurriedly drying your eyes. “You aren’t Feyre.”

He pauses, assessing your state before shaking his head. “I’m not.” 

You sniff, quickly pulling yourself together. Your brows pinch as you take in the tall Illyrian. “You aren’t… Are you allowed to be up an about?” 

“Technically, no.” 

“Then…?” You think back to this morning, and want to shrivel into the floor. Then Madja passes through your head. You swallow, standing straighter. “I…wasn’t okay to speak this morning,” you admit, remembering how you’d left before even answering any questions. Azriel dips his head, “I thought not.” 

Your stomach sinks. “Do you…are you wanting to speak now?” 

He blinks once. Shifts on his feet. “You weren’t at dinner this evening.” 

“Were you?” You ask in surprise. 

He nods. “You should try to eat. To help you recover.” He pauses, then adds. “It helps a lot. To eat a full meal, sometimes.” 

“I know. I just— I think I fell asleep again.” 

“You’ve been sleeping well?” 

You tilt your head from side to side. “I’ve been sleeping a lot? I couldn’t tell you whether it’s good though…” Azriel nods his head, and quiet begins to settle in the darkened hall. How late is it now? 

“You seemed in a low mood this morning.” He says after a few beats of silence. You swallow. “Yes…I think the recent weather might be just…you know…” 

He nods. “I know.” A few more beats pass. “You seem awake?” 

“…I don’t want this conversation, right now,” you say, averting your gaze. You’re far too tired, far too drained…but if he insists you’re not sure you’ll be able to turn him away, wanting more than ever his quiet company. 

In your periphery however, he shakes his head. “No, it’s not that.” He assures, then pauses. 

“I said you could speak with me, if you tried reaching out to Nesta.” You incline your head by a fraction to look at him, not skilled enough to mask your doubt. “You told me you didn’t like how inorganic it was.” 

You don’t know where he’s going with this, but you nod your head. You did say that. And it was true. 

Azriel nods his head. “Will you come with me?” 

————

The chill of midnight sets your teeth on edge, but the fleece keeps you warm as does the thick, woollen scarf you have wrapped around your neck and shoulders, and arguably the lower portion of your face. 

He’d flown you out quite a way from the River House—to a part of Velaris you don’t recognise—and yet seemed to have chosen to not go directly to his destination, leaving time for walking. Not that you mind of course, but you turn it absently over in your mind. 

The smell of rain is fresh on the cobbles, droplets of water dripping down the wrought iron of lanterns, weighing the lush green of long leaves until the droplets slip, relieving its end of the weight and catapulting back to its original height. Puddles accumulate in the narrow dips between the cracks in pavement, every colour made brighter, fresher by the gleam of rain. Vivifying colour and scent, life brimming at the surface, adding layers to smells. Walking past an alley, you see a small, speckled bird fluttering its feathers in one of those puddles, bathing itself in quick shivers, tiny eyes squeezing shut in pleasure before shuddering out a spray of dirtied water, now happy and clean. 

While lamps aren’t uncommon, most parts of Velaris are without light during the course of the night. Letting starlight spill over the paving, basking in the moon’s lonely glow, fae eyesight having no need for the aid of candles as humans would. Here, the night sky is bright and beautiful, scattered full of tiny, glittering specs, like millions of miniature sequins cast to the heavens. Some stars glow like gemstones, like diamonds—big and bold, and demanding attention away from the surrounding scatter; others are peaceful and codependent, relying on the smaller sparkle of others to build into a complexity created by a myriad of stars. 

Rainwater still trickles heavily, the splash of droplets echoing between buildings, small streams gathering as the water courses through the streets. You allow the droplets to fill your mind, their trickling splash, their content and syncopated rhythm keeping you listening, unable to predict the next pattern—how it’s an ever-changing, ever-evolving piece. 

Up ahead you can spot warm light spilling out onto the cobbles. It’s noticeably quieter in this part, and you wonder if it’s more residential. If he’s flown you far enough away from the shopping areas. 

“Up here,” he tells you, nodding to the warmly lit area. 

There are no doors, just some stout, rectangular, navy pieces of fabric hung from the threshold of the ceiling’s entrance, hanging in a single row like bunting. Upon each dark blue piece seems to be the side-shop’s logo, embroidered in pale white thread, kept within a neat circle. It’s startlingly small, compared to others you’ve seen, looking more akin to a bar in its layout—high-stools pushed close to a raised table, the kitchen immediately behind…and smelling delicious. 

Your stomach makes some interested noises. 

He had mentioned the destination was food-related, but you’d imagined something bigger, more closed off…not a walk-in, first-come-first-served sort of place. You suppose the thick layers make sense now, with how there are no temperature wards on the place; no indoor seating, seeing as the establishment doesn’t seem to have any doors. 

Teeth nip at the interior of your lip, glancing at what you can see of the interior—it looks pleasantly lit, two fae behind the raised table, with three others on the far end. There would be space for you to sit, without disturbing them… “I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish a meal…” 

He nods. “They have containers you can take food away in.” 

You glance back inside, chewing on your lip. Then you nod.

You hadn’t recognised anything on the menu, but Azriel seems to have visited before. A few times, by the friendly tone spoken between him and one of the cooks. A few minutes later a black, red, and gold, lacquerware bowl had been set in front of you, filled with more than a few things you haven’t so far had the chance to try. It seems to be comprised of a mouth-watering smelling broth, a selection of steamed veg, and half a well-boiled egg, it’s yolk still slightly runny, along with something string-looking. You’re presented with a pale white spoon, decorated with blue ink strokes that make up the petals of flowers and vines—to drink the broth with, you’d guess. 

“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Azriel nods to the bowl. “The taste is even better.” 

Hesitantly, you dip the different-looking spoon—almost more like a miniature ladle—into the broth, blowing on it gently, before raising the steaming liquid to your mouth, taking an experimental sip. It’s pleasantly spiced, the juices from the seasoned veg likely playing a part in the depth of flavour, and most importantly, it’s hot. “It’s good,” you murmur, smiling faintly as you finish the small ladle’s-worth, refilling it swiftly. It’s only once you’ve practically polished off the bowl, encountering a little difficulty with the utensils in your gloved fingers, that Azriel disturbs the peace that you hadn’t realised had settled. 

“You looked like you enjoyed that.” You nod, lightly drying your lips with the paper napkins, the logo of the walk-in this time printed in a warm red, matching the accent of the bowls. “I loved the broth.” The light catches in Azriel’s eyes, and he nods. “The broth is good.” 

You glance down at the lacquerware bowl, wondering if you might be able to get the last few drops of liquid from the circumference of the bottom if you tilt it and let it gather. You might have done so if you weren’t feeling pleasantly full for the first time in a while, no worries of nausea to be found in your body. Just warm satisfaction. 

A good meal for a shitty day. 

“It would be easy to have one of those picked up for a dinner,” Azriel mentions on the way back, after having paid. You’re walking at a dawdling pace, unrushed so you don’t get indigestion and spoil the heavenly state of your stomach. You hum, but your eyes feel heavy, despite having slept so much already. 

He doesn’t push it, allowing the comfortable quiet to settle, with raindrops still dripping in between buildings, splashing into puddles. You’re happy to let it remain quiet, your mind feeling pleasantly empty. No skittish thoughts, or fleeting worry. No anxious tug of energy telling you to hurry along in case you’re wasting time. 

There’s little in your mind, save for the warm spice of the broth, and it’s quiet. 

It’s peaceful. 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

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[autism-autobot]

FloaPS Facts 4

Read after chapters 18 & 19

Masterpost

Tw: Beheading/decapitation, gory descriptions, fainting, ptsd flashbacks, grief, depression,

During the moon cake making, Wukong's oxygen tank rolled off the table and took him down with it. The entire Demon Bull Family dropped what they were doing and went to help. He was fine, but his face temporarily was an even deeper shade of blue than normal.

Wukong was specifically instructed not to eat the moon cake batter.

He ate the moon cake batter.

He got sick and threw up.

He regrets many decisions he's made in life.

That ain't one of them.

The reasons Wukong wasn't allowed to go with Nezha to his Lunar New Years celebrations:

1. Jing specifically requested it be a family only thing since everyone was still mending their relationships with each other.

2-a. The last time Wukong came to a Li family gathering, Muzha threw a brick at Nezha as revenge but missed and hit Wukong instead.

2-b. Because Wukong had been decapitated so many times in the past (both by heaven and demons he encountered on The Journey), his head will pop off if hit hard enough (being sick only made it easier to do this).

2-c. That, combined with Wukong's beheaded body nonchalantly crawling over to his severed head, was enough to scare the other Li siblings into never wanting to see Wukong again.

3. Li Jing was extremely appalled that Nezha acted like this was a normal thing for Wukong. It isn't really, Nezha's just seen Wukong go through worse and knows he'll be fine.

Wukong once had the circlet activated so hard, and for so long, it sliced his head open and made his brain explode, and bits flew everywhere. Nezha witnessed this.

Wukong has a scar and a deep indent in his forehead as a result of the circlet.

When Wukong hugs DBK, he wraps his arms around his horns and pulls his face in close.

Upon first coming home, Wukong fretted over Red Son's cut, making a bunch of monkey coos and nuzzling his hand. Red Son really appreciated it.

DBK found out the hard way that Wukong CAN NOT TAKE HOT BATHS.

Wukong fainted and had several flashbacks about the furnace. He wept so much his tears stained the blanket Nezha made for him.

The Demon Bull Family takes scalding hot baths and often forget that most people would broil alive if the steam doesn't kill them first.

DBK found out Wukong loves ice baths and will burrow himself in the ice like a snake in sand given the opportunity.

Wukong likes getting baths and hair brushing from his family. It's the closest he can get to monkey grooming from them.

Wukong likes receiving scritches and pats.

The very few times in his life he's had lice, DBK asked Wukong to get rid of all the bugs, and he did.

Wukong's preferred seat is the floor.

Wukong doesn't like to sleep alone while sick (monkey instincts say it's a bad idea).

Red Son loves having his uncle sleep in his bed.

Wukong will sing an old lullaby he wrote for his children with his husband whenever he sleeps in Red Son's bed with him.

Red Son considers Wukong and his husband's singing voices to be the soundtrack of his childhood. That and the cuckoo clock.

Wukong used to write poetry, books, and songs but stopped when his husband died.

Wukong sings on occasion, but not nearly as often as he used to.

@starrclown @swkbiggestdefender @istopaskingmemate @ainnur @then-be-a-warrior @weaverpop @alilcherrysramblings

Part 3

5

[onmyyan]

Sharing is Caring (2/3)

A/N:OKAY BABES ITS HERE AHHHAGGH SO EXCITED THIS TOOK AGES BEC LIFE N SHIT BUT ANYWAY WHOOO SO EXCITED Anyway few things, this chapter gets kinda steamy but all the explicit smuts will be in part 3 its gonna be pure filth, after editing this mf came out to 28.3 pages and 10,275 words so I had to split it up, for those of you disappointed by the lack of horny never fear, the smut chapter is about 60% done and as soon as I post this I'm going back to working at it anyway please enjoy hope you like it!! feedback is welcome. Mi amada = My beloved

TW'S: YANDERE, KIDNAPPING, WEED MENTION, PAST MURDER MENTION

To say your day had been a bad one would have been putting it lightly.

It started out fine enough, you awoke to several of your usual good mornings, each Delmont had their own unique way of greeting you, and after taking the time to sleepily respond to each of them, you started your morning routine, fighting the urge to fall back into the warmth of your bed, your eyes struggled to remain open.

See you'd spent the better half of last night scrolling through your personal feeds, hours upon hours of cute couples blaring their love in your face, blatant affection everywhere you looked, shameless PDA, and grand romantic gestures.

The tooth-rotting fluff didn't usually bug you, but something about this particular onslaught of romance brought out this tidal wave of loneliness and envy.

It felt murky and heavy and you hated every second of it.

The five Delmont boys had grown into your found family, and usually, their antics didn't allow you the space to feel alone, but even that immense affection couldn't fill the hole that had steadily begun to grow in your chest.

Years upon years of no one showing genuine romantic interest in you had slowly but surely carved out a pit of self-loathing in your gut. Something you managed to hold off being consumed by until now.

Falling in love seemed like such an expected life event, from movies to songs and stories, people falling in love were everywhere you looked, and even though the little voice in your head tried to reassure you that you were just a late bloomer, the dark thoughts still haunted you well into the morning.

Brushing your teeth with a focused vigor, your mind began to reel as you stopped to really think about it all, the state of your love life or rather, lack thereof, how you've never been in a relationship, never been on a date, hell if it weren't for Marcos, you'd have to add never been kissed to the pitiful list, the older twin had been your first and only kiss when you were seventeen, but that was just him being a good friend in your time of need, of that you were certain.

You can remember it so clearly, sitting idly in your room, still living at the Delmont house, you'd been silently stewing in your sadness for a few hours by the time he found you.

What brought on this sour mood was a few offhanded jokes at your expense, you know those people you're only 'friends' with in class? Well, one of those girls, Lisa, had teased you relentlessly for the entire hour of biology when you'd accidentally let it slip you'd never kissed someone before.

And while she may have been joking, the words still left the strangest sting in your stomach, it made you feel weird, an odd cocktail of shame and embarrassment, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to kiss someone, you just didn't have many- scratch that, any options.

No one but the boys ever talked to you at school, for some strange reason, everyone else seemed to avoid you like the plague, cruel whispers of your name said behind even crueler stares, the twins usually swooped in before you could think to question the odd looks, but it was impossible not to notice.

Marcos found you curled into a fetal position on your bed, stuffed animals surrounding you in a protective barrier, he'd originally come upstairs with the intention of collecting you for dinner, there was this unspoken rule between the boys that whoever brought you down got to sit next to you at the table, but when he entered he could practically feel your sadness hanging in the air, his brows furrowed at the sight, instantly clocking your upset mood, he quickly switched gears, his face scrunching in visible concern.

One thing about Marcos was his inability to hide how he was feeling.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he toyed with the small silver ball in his ear, his nerves on edge at the sight of that look on your face, he hated seeing you upset, all the boys did, he didn't wait for an answer before rushing the rest of the way inside, kicking the door shut with his foot.

"No Co'- I'm fine, just tired." You used his nickname, trying in vain to put on a brave face but you knew in your heart of hearts that trying to lie to a Delmont was all but impossible. "Is dinner done? I hope she made adobo again god it's so good-" You tried to get up and walk downstairs but he stopped you with a gentle push of your shoulders, gently leading you back into a seated position, he gave a comforting squeeze before letting go, now standing before you with his hands on his hips, the image made you want to laugh, he looked a lot like his mother when she was about to scold him for something.

"Nah- we ain't leaving this room till you tell me what's up."

His insistence caused you to roll your pretty (e/c) eyes at the taller male, the way you crossed your arms, paired with that damn pout on your lipgloss-lined lips was a foul combo that had his heart skipping all kinds of beats. It took all his willpower not to squish your cheeks together.

"Why do you assume something's up?" 

"Cuz' I know you dummy." He said so softly, it immediately disarmed you, his hand gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and you felt your chest tighten at the action.

"I swear I'm good okay? Can we just go eat? My stomach is touching my back." Usually, by this point, your puppy-dog eyes would make him fold, he was, and still is, rather weak to your whims, but he held strong.

Flopping beside you on the bed, he shuffled to lay on his right side, making sure to maintain eye contact, his hand began toying with one of his longer necklaces, his red eyes rolling as he spoke, "Mhm, right, okay. Quick question, how are you sitting there so calmly when your pants are clearly on fire?"

You gasped laughing slightly, "How dare you come into my domain and call me a liar? Have you no shame?" He smiled to himself knowing his plan to cheer you up was working, "C'moooon tell me whats wronggggg- I won't stop whining till ya fess up pleaseeeeeeee-" you threw a pillow at his head, "Okay! okay just shut up! Damn.."

You felt yourself hesitate, as if not speaking the words made them any less true.

"-Lisa kinda clowned me in class today cuz' I," the words turned to ash on your tongue, the embarrassment flushing your skin with an uncomfortable heat, to be admitting something so childish to someone as promiscuous as Marcos, felt all the more humiliating, and you didn't think you could handle him laughing at you.

"You can tell me anything Mi amada." You could hear the sincerity in the soft way he spoke, all playfulness gone.

How seriously he took your emotions managed to ease your fear of rejection enough to blurt out, "I haven't ever um- kissed anyone, and it made me feel, I dunno kinda bad I guess?" you laughed softly, that uncomfortable wave of shame echoing through your body, "She was just kiddin' around." You added that last bit knowing how overprotective he could get, god forbid he told Manny, you tried again to laugh it off, beginning to play with the ears of the blue stuffed bunny Gabe had given you years ago, the action was a wonderful alternative to holding Marcos's now burning stare.

He was quiet for a moment which was concerning since Marcos was never quiet. Suddenly sitting straight up, he ever so softly took the stuffed bunny from your hands to interlock your fingers. His intense, warm gaze held you frozen in place like a statue.

His tongue poked out to flick over his bottom lip, a nervous tick of his, and he swallowed before whispering,

"Kiss me then."

Marcos spoke it so softly, sounding so breathless. You laughed on instinct, thinking he was teasing, but when he remained silent, smiling at you like you held all the stars in the sky, you felt the heat crawl up your skin.

"Ha ha very amusing Co'-" you threw a pillow toward his chest with your free hand, "Cides' I don't want my first one to be some kinda' pity kiss from my best friend because he felt bad." Once more you played it off, trying desperately to ignore the funny feeling that had blossomed in your stomach, waiting for him to quit the game and stop the joke.

Only Marcos wasn't laughing.

"Who the fuck said anything about pity? You should know me well enough by now- I never say anything I don't mean." He leaned over, close enough where you could see the small constellation of freckles just under his eyes, you'd never noticed them before. He was far enough away not to pressure you, but the invitation was clear. 

"But- we, um I-" Your mind was racing with hundreds of thoughts, and as if he sensed this, he let go of one hand to brush the hair from your face, his thumb lingering to swipe across your cheek in a feather-like touch, it felt like he had electricity in his fingertips, he stared into your eyes with an intensity you couldn't quite place.

"Don't think so hard." He smiled as he spoke, the words whispered against your lips, you were so close you could feel each of his shaky exhales, he looked back and forth from your eyes to your lips, waiting on bated breath for your response.

Allowing your eyes to flutter shut, you relaxed your posture and simply fell into the moment, now both of his hands were on your face, pulling you in that much deeper, his lips were soft and tasted faintly of cherry chapstick, one of his hands moved to cradle the back of your neck, holding you against him as he moved his mouth against yours in what felt like a well-practiced dance. His tongue swiped against your plush lips ever so slightly as you pulled away, skin flushed and hearts pounding.

He didn't allow the budding tension to take over, instead, he sat back with his familiar grin. "There, easy fix." he swiped at his lips with his thumb, sticking the appendage between his teeth in a daring display. The way you tasted, how perfect you felt in his arms, he could feel the addiction settling in, and happily surrendered himself to it.

He knew at that moment no one else would ever compare to you, to the way you made him feel. And despite how simple, the relatively innocent kiss you just shared was, it had him the hardest he'd ever been in his life, thankfully you seemed so flustered and dazed he was able to hide the tent in his pants with a well-placed pillow.

You'd both gone down to dinner after locking pinkies and swearing never to tell another soul, you assuming he simply didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about you two, but really he was covering his ass, knowing if any of the others found out he'd gotten to be your first kiss, he wouldn't be walking for a while, Gabe had promised to break both ankles if he ever touched you, a threat he knew was no joke, but to Marcos, it was well worth the risk, he hated seeing you so upset about something he could very easily change, so he did, and he couldn't be happier.

The two of you had matching, knowing smiles on your faces that night, he even shot you a wink before bed, you couldn't get the giddy feeling to go away for weeks, even though you knew it was just him being a good friend, the warmth that had blossomed couldn't be undone. 

These spiraling thoughts haunted you like a ghost, that is until you looked down at your coffee pot and remembered the cute guy who slipped you his number a few days ago. Normally you'd just let the small piece of paper go unused, too afraid to make a fool of yourself to actually reach out, but today was different.

Fueled by your melancholy thoughts, you quickly texted him before you could talk yourself out of it, and it seemed to be going well, the banter was flirty enough, if nothing else it would be fun to play dress up, so you began a feverish rush to get ready, and in that time, Manny had invited himself in while you rushed through a shower.

The redhead did this often, so you didn't blink when you heard him enter in his usual brand of loud. "Oh, honey I'm home!"

"In the shower!" You felt rude leaving him out there so you sped through the last of your routine and found him lying comfortably on your bed, face buried in his phone. He offered you a familiar, wolf-like grin before turning his attention back to the screen, you'd known him so long the action of dressing in front of him wasn't anything to bat an eye at, "Sorry- didn't know you were coming over or I woulda' showered sooner, you don't mind if I get ready right?"

"Mmhm" was his simple response so you continued with your routine, rambling nervously about your plans.

He appeared as chipper as usual, that is until you told him about your date, it was as if the energy in the room shifted into something- else.

He seemed to be in this state of disbelief, questioning how and when this happened, ignoring the sting in your chest at the thought of him not believing you, and all the ugly thoughts it brought up, you continued to browse through your wardrobe, hoping the search for a cute set of bottoms would help you push through your nerves about it all before you could ask why he found the concept so unbelievable, you'd heard his rushed goodbye, the slam of the door made you jump in place, nearly dropping the garment because that was weird as hell.

Manny always hugged you goodbye, so his running off made you pause, it was instinctual for you to comfort him when he got worked up in that way only Manny could, so you were just about to call him to double-check but were interrupted by your date's number popping up on the screen.

His name was Michael and he sounded so shy when he called to double confirm your attendance, you found his eagerness cute. you silently vowed to check in with your friend after the date and hyped yourself for the night to come.

As the evening began, you found yourself waiting idly by the table, he'd chosen a bit of an upscale bistro as your meeting spot so you felt the need to dress up a bit, a cute black turtleneck dress covered your body like a second skin, hugging your curves in all the right ways, the cashmere number was a gift from Gabe ages ago, and his flustered reaction to seeing you come out of that dressing room is what pushed you to bring it home, you knew your ass looked incredible in the outfit, paired with the knee length, black crushed-velvet boots, you felt hot as hell and were excited to see your date's reaction.

Only you never got the chance.

Thirty minutes go by with no sign of Michael.

What was supposed to be a fun night out quickly soured into an evening of humiliation as your date ignored your call for the third time since you'd arrived. You felt the shame creep up as you faced the cold hard fact, you'd been stood up.

Feeling utterly stupid for getting all primped and preened for some douche who didn't even have the nerve to cancel, you resigned yourself to the sad reality. 

I mean he asked you out! He even bothered to make sure you were coming, all that to so coldly blow you off?

A disheartened breath escaped your lips as you let your head meet the table with a thunk. You quickly excused yourself from the restaurant, tossing the money for the wine you'd had with shakey hands. Tears had rushed to your eye, building at the waterline, but you didn't want to cry, not yet.

You'd done well not to fall to the urge to curl up and sob, kicking your boots off at the door, uncaring of the way they nearly knocked over a plant, it wasn't until a second later when the silence of your home became glaringly loud, did it all become too much.

Throwing yourself onto the couch, you buried your face in the soft cushion and wept like a baby. Shoulders shaking, voice cracking cries left your form. After a good fifteen minutes of crying as hard as you could, you wiped at your flush face and shuffled your way to the bottle of some half-empty whiskey, Marcos had left in your cabinet ages ago.

He'd pitch a full fit if he saw you chasing his 100$ liquor with the Coke you had in your fridge, the thought of the male made a new round of sobs bubble past your wet lips, you'd always held a candle of affection for the tall redhead, of course, you loved all of the Delmont's but you'd always had a little crush on Marcos, you compared it to the feeling of crushing on a celebrity, where your subconscious mind knows they're out of reach, so it feels like a harmless fantasy.

Love came to him so effortlessly, and he discarded it just as easily, the nasty feeling of envy came up and you quickly shook your head, choosing to drown the thoughts in the burning amber liquid rather than face them.

About an hour after your failed excursion, you found yourself resting comfortably on the kitchen floor, back pressed into the cool metal of your fridge, the whiskey bottle now empty, you'd taken to rolling it back and forth between your foot and the wall, allowing yourself to just be lost in the hazy sensations around you.

The shrill ring of your doorbell burst your blissfully drunk bubble.

"Go 'way.." you slurred from your rather relaxed position on the floor, the sexy outfit you'd put on just to show off was bunched at your waist for comfort, the knock came again, this time followed by the voice of one of your best friends.

"Sugarplum? It's us, can we come in?" Manny whined from behind the wood, you could practically see the pout on his face, of course, he had a key so it was really more of a formality than an actual question.

He didn't wait for your response, instead shuffling his way inside, the greasy takeout in his hand had you crawling across the floor to meet him halfway. 

A happy and clearly drunk gasp left your wine-stained lips, "Manny! you didn't gimmie a hug earlier what was up with that?-Oh shit is that Taco Bell?" He made a noise of agreement holding the bag towards you. "Sure is, and m'sorry about before Hun, I was in a mood but I promise it wasn't your fault."

His voice was like warm sugar as he spoke, now kneeling beside you, he held his arms out eagerly accepting the somewhat sloppy hug you threw his way. "Now, can you let Marcos pick you up so you can eat baby?" His hands rubbed up and down your arms, bringing goosebumps to the surface.

With a few slow but determined nods, you happily agreed, turning to face Manny's other half.

The older of the two had squatted down beside you, his ring-clad hand moved to brush a few sweat-soaked curls from your head. "Hey princess." He smiled softly at your pretty flushed face, the way you stared up at him, had his pulse thumping. "Heeey good lookin' you come here often?" You threw your hands around his neck which gave him the perfect opportunity to scoop you up, he led you to the couch, setting you down as if you were made of porcelain. He sent his twin a subtle nod as he moved you.

"How was your date?" Marcos's honey-dipped voice cooed from his position beside you, the action sent vibrations down your back making you flinch away from him with an airy giggle. "Wellllll, kinda hard to rate it when the guy doesn't show up." You sighed hastily digging through the bag Mammy had given you.

"What a scumbag- I'd never leave you by your lonesome like that." He cupped your flushed cheek, gently rubbing his thumb along the underside of your jaw. Food momentarily forgotten you dropped the bag in your lap, shoulders sagging with all the weight of the failed night, "Promise?" You asked, getting teary-eyed all over again.

He felt his chest tighten at the sight, as pretty as you looked right now, he was the only one allowed to make you cry, anyone else doing it was basically a war crime in his eyes. "Cross my heart and hope to die, baby." He threw an arm over the couch allowing you space to cuddle into his side.

When you were good and comfy he turned you to face him with the lightest touch to your chin, "You see this?" He slipped the ring on his pointer finger off, and gently lowered the band around your thumb. "This makes my promise official."

Manny had suddenly appeared before you, a small cup in his hands.

"Hey sweetie, you finished off Marco's bottle huh?" He smiled at the dazy way you nodded yes, fighting the urge to gush over your cuteness, "Well I don't want you to be sick tomorrow, can you take these for me? Good girl." You'd opened your mouth without question, having nothing but trust in the two men before you, you let him hold the cup to your lips and swallowed, mumbling a sleepy "thank you." into the skin of Marco's neck. His full body shiver goes unnoticed by you.

The twins watched you fall under with laser-focused eyes, the hardest part would be peeling Marcos away from you long enough for him to do his job.

Once they had both you and your stuff tucked away snugly in the car, Manny insisted on being in the back with you, holding you close to his chest, in your sleep, you held him back, quickly becoming overwhelmed by all the good emotions pumping through his veins- at his love for you, he felt himself get a bit teary at the sight of you finally where you belonged, safe in his arms.

Marcos made good and sure to wipe away any evidence of them being there, and all but ran back to their car to begin the long drive to your forever house.

Back at said home, the eldest of the brothers was doing one last walkthrough to make everything perfect for his Honey's arrival.

Caspian had managed to make the home feel lived in from the few hours he had to prep, a fully stocked kitchen, your favorite scent wafting gently through the air, Ricky had the foresight to install dimmer switches in every room because he knew how you loathed the 'big light', your bedroom had the biggest bed Caspian had ever seen, he'd made sure everything was ready for your arrival, even taking the time to warm your blankets in the dryer.

He moved around the space with a fluidness surprising for someone of his size, already familiar with the layout, the eldest Delmont made his final rounds around the home, making extra sure all the locks and exits were secure, he knew eventually, you'd come to love it here, but he also understood you'd need some time to adjust, these were just precautions.

He nearly squealed when he got the text from the twins, you were finally here! Finally home. He couldn't wait to hug you, kiss you, and give you all the affection he'd been forced to hold back. But he was a patient man and knew you'd be overwhelmed if he did, so instead, he settled for scooping you out of the car, much to his younger brother's displeasure.

You snuggled into his warmth in your sleep, to which he couldn't help but coo over. "Welcome home Honey," he whispered into the crown of your head, a small kiss left as he gently, but hurriedly rushed you inside and away from the snowfall that had just begun.

Manny nearly tackled his twin when they entered their new house, his energy was off the roof, practically buzzing in place as he took in their dream home. The living room had a 70's style conversation pit where you all could relax and they could smother you in the affection you so clearly needed.

A part of him was still bitter about the date, not at you, never at you, but the feeling was there, and all he wanted to do right now was hold you to his chest and let the lull of your heartbeat calm him down. Marcos plopped himself on the soft cushioned couch with a troubling sigh and waved him over.

"What's up? You got a weird look on your face." Manny couldn't fathom his twin being anything other than elated right now, so the odd air around him didn't sit well with the youngest.

"C'mere for a sec Little man- we gotta go over some ground rules before she wakes up." Manny's smile fell as he complied, sitting with a pout, "Ground rules are how we ended up here in the first place." He all but sneered, arms crossed in visible frustration.

Marcos held his hands up in a show of surrender. "I get it, but this is different."

"I know you're excited, god I am too, but there's a real chance she won't be too happy when she wakes up." The older of the two now sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees as he tried to find the right words to explain to his other half.

"What do you mean? This house was literally made for us all, we're in the woods like she's always talked about- she's gonna love it!" Marcos sighed taking his younger brother's hand, already he could feel him panicking at the thought of this going anything but swell. 

"Think about it like this bud, she has no idea how we feel, this is gonna be the first time she hears it, and we feel a lot, so we gotta be delicate."

Manny felt his face scrunch in confusion, not able to understand why you wouldn't be happy. You'd never have to lift a finger again, no more bills, work or slimy coffee house creeps to prey on your sweetness, he knew you'd be your happiest here!

"Not to mention the whole waking up somewhere she didn't fall asleep thing." He licked his bottom lip, knowing he had to toe the line in fear of causing his younger brother's next breakdown.

"I'm just sayin' this in case she freaks out okay? I don't want you to be caught off guard- if she says anything mean or hurtful you can't lose your cool aight'?" Marcos watched his younger brother as he processed his words. Knowing his reaction could go either way.

After a tense moment of silence, there was a shift in Manny's expression, as if something clicked. He rubbed at his chin, and Marcos could practically see the gears in his head turning.

"..Okay, it's sorta' like when we brought home that feral kitty, can't hold it against her if we get a few scratches right?" Marcos felt himself relax nodding with a smile that mirrored Manny's. "That's exactly right Bud, C'mon when Cas comes out we can go in there, we should be the first faces she sees dontcha' think?"

Ricky and Gabe arrived at their new home at the same time. The ladder immediately headed straight for the shower as whatever it was he did to your date still stained his hands crimson. Gabe couldn't wipe the wild grin from his face if he wanted to, he felt like he'd just won the lottery.

Ricky had done exactly as he said he would and left a convincing trail of evidence that you were feeling a bit free-spirited and decided to take a little vacation, of course leaving out the where and with whom.

He made his way around your new home with a feeling of accomplishment, everything was perfect now.

You were safe, and once you got over whatever adjustment period you needed, he knew everyone would be happier than ever before. Caspian greeted his younger brother with a bear hug, his smile wider than Ricky had seen in years. "You did good Ricky, real good. This place is perfect." The praise made a weight lift off the long-haired man's shoulders, Caspian was the one he looked up to the most, so to hear such positive confirmation made him let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I'm scared she's gonna' freak out- I don't want her to hate us-" he found his anxieties tumbling past his lips without permission, Caspian had that effect on people.

"She won't. Know why? Because this was the right call, we have all the time in the world to show her just how much we care okay? Don't stress it." He clapped a hand on his shoulder and began dragging him to the kitchen.

"C'mon I got too excited and kinda' made too much food." 

Gabe took his time in the shower, letting the perfectly hot water wash away his sins of the night. Scratch that, he didn't consider his acts sins, or that of violence, rather, it was an act of love, putting that bastard in the ground for you was just him speaking his particular brand of love language.

The wicked smile curled upon his lips only widened as he watched the pink water turn clear, he was giddy at the thought of you sleeping peacefully just a few rooms away. You were here, like actually here. Nothing or no one would ever hurt you again, and most excitingly, he didn't have to hold back anymore, once you woke up he was going to spill his guts, and if his words of love weren't enough to convince you, he'd just have to show you how you effected him all these years.

Waking up in a slightly hungover haze in an entirely different place than you passed out in should have sent you into a panic, but the familiar feeling of being sandwiched between the twins killed any fear that may have come up, even half asleep and a little hungover, you knew you were always safe when a Delmont was around.

Before you could try to wrap your head around your new surroundings both Manny and Marcos were pressing a big fat kiss into each of your cheeks. "Morning sunshine." Manny sang sweetly, Marcos gave you a hug from the side mumbling his greeting into the skin of your neck. When they pulled away you were far too flustered to ask all the questions burning in your mind, instead, you returned the greetings and mutely followed behind them as Manny took your hand and began to lead you away from the wonderful room you'd woken up in.

Manny led you to the dining room of the seemingly massive house you resided in while Marcos went to shower (not before inviting you to join him of course), the youngest Delmont was as chatty as ever, rambling about everything and nothing but his words weren't registering, you definitely didn't remember coming to wherever the hell this was, and him acting so normal made you feel even weirder, as you shuffled forward the familiar sounds of the rest of the boys got louder and louder.

"Gabriel Miguel Delmont if you touch that bacon one more time I'm putting you outside like a dog." Caspian rarely yelled, even now when he was scolding the blue-haired giant he sounded more disappointed than angry, but it was his voice you noticed first.

"C'mon Cas I'm hungryyy-" you could hear the pout in Gabe's words, "I wanna' eat, there's no reason to wait it's not like we're running out of food anytime soon."

"Yeah well, people in hell want ice water so tough." 

"Gabe shut up- Cas stop readjusting the silverware she's not gonna' notice."

"But she might!!" As you both rounded the corner the conversation fell deathly silent. Each man was overcome with their affection for you, it didn't help that you looked so damn cute rubbing the sleep from your eye.

"Mornin'?" You said after a good thirty seconds of them just staring. This seemed to restart them all as Caspian jumped to pull out a chair, his warm smile was infectious, and you found yourself returning it as you sat. "Holy hell Cas you made enough to feed an army."

The spread before you was truly something out of a movie, from savory grits to big fluffy waffles, he seemed to have made every one of your favorite breakfast dishes, and each looked picture-perfect, he was all but beaming as he stood beside you. 

"Hope you're hungry." He laughed a bit, nervously flattening the baby pink apron covering his wide chest, he picked up the plate before you, staring down through his thick lashes with such warmth it made your heart race. "May I?" He gestured to the buffet and you nodded, mouth slightly agape as your brain tried to process the scene. 

Ricky sat across from you, his long hair in a messy bun, a few strands fell out, framing his face, which speaking of was fixed in the most peaceful expression, you couldn't recall the last time he seemed so relaxed. For once he didn't look like he was moments away from falling asleep, instead, he seemed refreshed, like he'd caught up on all the rest he hadn't gotten over the years.

He stared at you with the softest look, licking his bottom lip before speaking, "Good morning love, did you sleep well?" He sipped at his mug, the cinnamon coffee scent wafted through the room, that cat-like stare of his never once leaving your form.

"Slept like the dead actually-" You figured now was good a time as any to bring up the elephant in the room. "Probably the best sleep I've gotten in ages- speaking of whose bed did I just wake up in?" 

"Sorry for the holdup! Water's still warm if you wanna shower sweets." Marcos cut you off as he entered taking his seat by Manny who sat directly to your right, as he eagerly drank you in, the youngest seemed to be vibrating in his seat. 

"You should eat, lord knows the last time you did." Gabe teased from his spot beside Ricky, he was the most unabashed in his staring, it felt as if he was just barely holding himself back from leaping across the table, to do what you had no idea, but the grip he had on his fork was cause for concern.

After Caspian deemed your plate full enough he set it before you, his large frame cast a shadow across the table as he leaned over, it almost sounded as if he smelled your hair as he pulled away to take the seat by your left.

"Okay everyone eat up, after you do I'll answer all your questions okay? No lies. Complete transparency." Ricky spoke as if reading your mind, he gave you that smile of his that always made you feel like everything was under control and you relinquished yourself to the five-star meal before you.

If you could ignore the new location, the scene you found yourself in felt rather familiar. Each man bickered with each other as you all ate, you could almost pretend you were back at their house. Gabe finished first as usual, going in for seconds when he asked you to pass him the eggs, his much larger hand gently brushed over your own, and based on the grin he was sporting after, the move was intentional.

Once everyone was finished you thanked Caspian for the meal and turned your attention to Ricky, who looked a bit nervous now. "Soo. This isn't my house?" Despite your casual and light-hearted tone, the atmosphere seemed to shift at that second.

"Yes, it is, just not your old one. And to answer your question from before, that was your bed you woke up in."

"Right. Okay sure- where exactly are we? It's snowing outside." Ricky took a moment to finish off his coffee before responding.

"We're home. Our new home and it's winter Darling, snow is expected for this area." The long-haired man seemed to choose his words carefully, putting extra emphasis on the word our.

"Okay. Um and how exactly did I get to this area? The last thing I remember was chilling at my place with things 1&2 over there." The twins stared at you bashfully, both suddenly looking everywhere but you.

You flicked your gaze over each of them, all looking rather anxious, Ricky opened his mouth to answer but Marcos beat him to the punch. "I- we brought you here last night." He gestured to his twin who was beaming at you. "We couldn't just leave you alone in the state you were in." He added, not technically a lie he reasoned mentally.

You nodded to yourself, wondering how to ask what you really wanted to know.

"You're wondering why right?" Caspian spoke up, his voice was gentle as if talking down a wounded, cornered animal. 

You nodded, brows furrowed in confusion, not trusting your voice.

"Well-" he seemed to look to his brothers for confirmation before continuing, a red hue growing on his cheeks as he racked his mind for the right words, he had so much he wanted to say to you! Everything got all jumbled in his brain causing the eldest Delmont to visibly fluster.

"God I've been thinking about this moment for years but now that you're actually here I'm blanking." He let out an embarrassed laugh, rubbing his hand over his face as he stumbled over his words.

"Okay I'll say it since these bozos forgot how to talk or somethin'," Gabe rolled up his sleeves and leaned over on the table all business-like. 

"You are ours now-" he gestured to the rest of the men in the room, "Sorry, I say 'now' like you haven't always been, but officially, you're ours." He gave a self-satisfied grin, leaning back into his chair. "Yours? what?" He cooed at your frustration, reaching across the table to take your hand in his much larger one.

"Ours to protect," he kissed your pointer finger, "To love," another kiss, now on your palm. "To fuck." His searing stare was only broken when he took the tip of your finger between his lips, gently sucking as he pulled away. 

You felt like liquid putty as if he was the only thing grounding you at the moment.

Marcos rolled his eyes at his brute of a brother, jealousy came off him in waves as he sat on the table, taking your other hand he began laying on a few of his own possessive kisses, between each one he spoke "What that meathead is trying to say is we want to take care of you," another kiss, "-all of you." Another. "In every way." He added as if it cleared up any of your steadily building confusion.

Between the tingling in your lower abdomen to the confusion-headache beginning to pulse, you felt breathless.

"Sorry- just let me get this right. You took me out to some fancy cabin in the woods to take care of me?" Your face scrunched in confusion, and gently, you took back both your hands in an attempt to calm down, fanning your face you shakily laughed,

"Why? I'm okay guys really-"

"No, you're not!" Manny interrupted with a teary-eyed huff. "You feel lonely. I know you do, you told me so! You said you were gonna go out with that loser cuz you felt unwanted! That doesn't sound okay to me." The jealousy practically seeped from his words, his bright orange eyes held this darkness you'd only seen in him once or twice, and while he'd always been rather protective of you, this level of hate for someone else at your expense was new.

He had worked himself up and out of instinct, your hand found his own, immediately it calmed his tantrum down, resulting in him just sniffling instead of screaming which he very much wanted to do.

Brushing your thumb against the back of his hand in what you hoped were comforting circles, you hushed his tears, wiping them away with a practiced tenderness.

"It's okay Manny- don't get upset, not for me. I'm just trying to understand all this, can you help me understand?" He nuzzled into your palm like a pup, sighing deeply, he leaned over to rest his forehead against your own.

"I love you- we all do."

"God- I love you guys too, you're my family-"

"No! No! No! Not like that!- we love you." Manny had leaped from his seat, falling to his knees like a worshiper at their God's alter. "I love you like... I love you like the moon loves the sun. I crave you," he kissed his way from your feet to your calves, his hands rubbing patterns into the flesh, "I need you more than I need air in my lungs!" he whined looking up from between your knees.

"I adore you darling- we all do, can't you see?" Bending down, you wipe at his tears once more, and he melts into your touch, muttering this next bit into your skin, "My heart beats for you."

Heat as you'd never felt before rushed through your veins at his bold confession. Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears as you looped his words in your brain.

A thousand emotions whirled inside you as you stared at them all, there was a small part of you that thought this was all some dream your lonely mind concocted after a night of getting hammered. But then you felt Manny's tears begin to soak into the fabric of your sweats, and the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks.

Your mouth gaped as you struggled to find the right words. "You're in love with me? Like all of you?" Manny had resigned himself to leaning in your lap, head buried in your thighs as you combed through his curls with one hand.

"I don't know what to say." You spoke honestly, staring at each of them, you expected sadness from your lack of response but only found warmth in their gazes.

"And you don't need to, I'm glad you're even hearing us out," Caspian spoke, taking a hesitant seat beside you as if he was afraid to scare you off. "Of course, I'm hearing you out you guys are everything to me, sure you went about telling me in the absolute wildest way possible but I don't know what I'd do without you- all of you." 

"And you never have to. I meant what I said, you're ours now, we got all the time in the world for you to catch up." Gabe said, his eyes flickered over his youngest brother, still in your lap, and instead of animosity, he stared with a knowing grin. "Okay little man, you worked yourself up, c'mon let's take a walk." 

A muffled shout of 'No!' could be heard from Manny, his grip on your waist had become like iron, but Gabe persisted. He scooped the skinner male up by his arms, much like a cat grabbing their kitten by the scruff of its neck, and dragged the pouting male outside with a well-timed wink. "See you in a bit Ma." And with that, they left. 

You offered to help Cas clear the dishes, if only for a sense of normalcy but he quickly ushered you away, sending you off to rest with a quick peck to your cheek.

In an attempt not to overwhelm you, each Delmont was off to their own devices, Gabe and Manny still hadn't returned from their walk, Marcos was hotboxing the basement and Caspian was humming his way around the kitchen, which left you to wander the large estate you'd found yourself in. 

Retracing your steps led you back into the room you'd woken up in, the large space was open and seemed almost tailored to your tastes. You took the time to search the drawers and see your clothes, the bathroom connected to the room was fully stocked with your favorite brands, and much to your growing confusion, even had stuff from your wishlist.

You looked for your phone in all the typical places it usually was, purse, nightstand, etc. But came up empty-handed. You had a sneaking feeling this was intentional as everything else you could have needed for this impromptu vacation was accounted for. 

Feeling the burn of more questions you sought out the man who swore to answer them. 

He wasn't too hard to find, and the sound of soft music coming from a record player led you straight to him, the room he was in looked like an upgraded version of his office, he was writing in a leather-bound journal so intensely he didn't notice you walk up. He always looked so pretty when he was working, chin jutted out just the slightest as his eyes flickered back and forth, you always told him how he looked like he belonged in a modern art museum.

"Hey, Ricky?" His head snapped towards you with breakneck speed. "What's up?" He seemed eager as he snapped the book shut and shoved it in a drawer, his small smile was enough to relax you, quickly turning to give you his undivided attention, he waved you in.

"You know where my phone is? I couldn't find it with all my stuff." He smiled at you, taking his glasses off with finesse as if he was prepared for this question. "The boys must have forgotten it." He said matter of factly.

"Well can I use yours?"

"It's dead."

You scoffed feeling your irritation spike at his dismissive attitude, you turned to leave before he spoke out again. "What are you so eager to do on the phone exactly?"

"Oh my god- nothing, I get you guys are trying to- well do whatever this is, but you can't just keep me from my life Rick- I don't need to be coddled." He leaned back into his seat, brows furrowed at your tense form.

"And what exactly are we keeping you from? An empty apartment? A job you despise that sucks the joy outta ya?" He sighed through his nose, tucking a runaway strand behind his ear, "You don't need to worry about any of that shit anymore okay? Have you looked around the house yet?" He asked changing the subject smoothly, you shook your head no, anger fading as quickly as it had come, and watched as he rose, pausing to crack his back. 

"Well c'mon, there's lots to see and you oughta be familiar with your own home." 

The two of you walked side by side as he took you along the tour, so far not including the rooms you'd already been in, you'd seen a reading room, but what made you pause was the living room itself. It had a flat screen that took up a whole wall, a working currently lit fireplace, a few hanging plants and well-placed candles, and dead center was what you considered the crowing jewel, a mauve and orange themed conversation pit, one you'd always dreamed of having. You couldn't fight your excitement as you rushed past him to flop on the soft cushion.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven." You mumbled into the fabric, Ricky stared on in amusement, more than pleased you seemed to be enjoying the home he'd painstakingly brought together for you. Every inch of the house was managed with you in mind, he'd kept amazing notes on your likes and preferences throughout the years, but seeing your genuine excitement had to be his favorite part.

"I promise we can come back here but there are literally three floors to this mother fucker." He smiled down at you, holding a slender hand out, he felt his heart swell as you took it, but instead of rising to his level, you yanked him down to your own, pulling him over, he bounced on the couch with shock written on his features.

"No way my guy- tour is officially paused until we test this here T.V. out okay?" His face flushed as you curled up beside him, "Yes ma'am." He laughed a bit to himself, loving how easily you were entertained. He pulled the remote out from a cleverly disguised compartment on the couch and watched your eyes light up even brighter. 

"Holy shit secret couch pouch."

"Focus woman, I paid good money for this T.V. and you're more interested in the furniture." He turned on a random movie and let himself relax at the moment. Drinking in the sight of you so at ease, his heart about exploded from his chest when you snuggled into his side, his arm wrapped around you snuggly, hand rubbing patterns into your flesh.

You didn't feel like racking your brain with a million questions about why you were there or where their sudden confessions came from, instead, you chose to focus on what you did know, Ricky was comfortable, and despite everything, you still trusted the Delmont men, as they were all you knew.

Maybe subconsciously you knew this was wrong, that keeping you here was wrong, but it didn't feel wrong. It felt right. Like you were supposed to be here at this moment.

You ended up passing out in the tall man's arms, your small snores and completely relaxed face had Ricky's skin flushed cherry red, he couldn't wipe the grin from his lips if he tried, Gabe and a now calmed down Manny returned shortly after you fell asleep, the older of the two insisted on carrying you back to your room, only he stopped by his room to tuck you snuggly into bed, wrapped in his soft Egyptian cotton black sheets, he felt himself twitch in his pants at the sight of you so safe and sound.

He stood over you for a while, happy to stand there and drink you in all night, only to be interrupted by a text from his older brother.

"Okay so, how do we think it's going?" Caspian asked after summoning them all to the still slightly smokey basement, he held a tablet in one hand, the cameras placed around the house were mostly for his peace of mind, so he could be sure you were okay no matter where he was.

"She seemed chill at breakfast, I say a win is a win." Gabe shrugged, eager to leave this little meeting and cuddle up to you. 

"Yeah I'm with Gabe on this one, she seems okay, do we have to keep up with the whole 'give her space' thing?" Marcos asked from his spot on the couch, he was lying on his back tossing a foam football up and down.

"I wanna sleep with her- s'not fair Ricky got to." Manny piped up from his seat on a beanbag, the pout could be heard in his voice.

"I was just in the right place at the right time, not like I planned it." Ricky defended himself, but the satisfied smile on his face made it hard to believe him. "And it could just be the shock, give it a few days before you lay into her, and I'm looking at you three." Gabe and the twins made a noise of disbelief.

The next morning you awoke not on the couch but pressed against the big chest of one Gabriel Delmont. The bluenette had one hand behind his head and the other securely wrapped around your middle, holding you against him, he rarely slept in a shirt so you were used to his statuesque features, but it felt different now, after his bold claim at the breakfast table, it all seemed rather intimate to be face first in his naked chest.

As if he sensed you were awake, he soon started shuffling close toward you.

"G'mornin Mi Amor." His morning voice was husky with sleep, it sent a warm tingle down your spine as he shifted, pulling you even closer. "Morning Gabe." He stared at you for a second before tilting your chin up with his free hand, his pillowy lips were on yours in an instant, warm and cozy, he hummed as he pulled away, his smile turning wicked at the obvious heat on your face.

"I uh- I fell asleep on the couch?" Was all your brain managed to say after the heated kiss, still processing the tingly way it made you feel.

He huffed a laugh, leaning over to place another kiss, this time on your neck, "Yeah I may have stolen you from Ricky but you can't really blame me." He mumbled into the flesh of your neck, the sensation made a ghost of a whimper leave your lips.

He froze against you before his lips turned to teeth, "Keep making those pretty noises for me n' We're never leaving the bed." He sounded breathless as he nipped and sucked his mark into your skin. Breathy little moans left your lips, "Shit- hold on a second-ngh."

Your hands buried themselves in him, one in his hair the other trying to find purchase on his toned back. His chest began to rise and fall, his heart pounding as he fell into the delicious sensations, your hand tugging at his locks, the other digging into his skin so hard he felt the crescent-shaped indents you were leaving, the mental image of your own mark on him had him rolling his hips into yours, his boxers suddenly all too tight, he rolled himself to lay comfortably between your thighs, suddenly, he lifted himself just enough to stare in your eyes. "You want my tongue or my fingers first Ma'?" The sinful smile he sported was enough to short-circuit your brain.

But before you could stumble out an answer, a few sharp knocks came from the door, so hard they shook the wood. 

"Put your dick away Gabriel, food's ready." Marco's voice carried through the barrier instantly popping whatever heated bubble you two had been in. Gabe growled something obscene under his breath, his angry stare melted back into a teasing one as he met your gaze once more.

"To be continued Baby girl."

Your second breakfast at your new home was a lot like the first one, only this time before you could sit Manny pulled you into his lap, his surprisingly strong arms locked around your waist, fingers dancing along any skin he could find. "Missed you." He mumbled into the back of your neck, goosebumps exploded across your skin at the timber in his voice. "But you just seen me?" You couldn't fight the giggles that escaped you as he started trailing little kisses along the column of your throat, nosing just below your ear as he knew you were ticklish. "So what? I didn't wake up and see you so it's been too long." He reasoned, basking in the perfect way you fit in his arms, how soft and warm you were.

"Oi, let her eat." Ricky pointed his fork at the youngest, his tone full of accusation. "Hmm that's fair, my baby does need to eat, hey Cas, little help?" Manny asked hiding his wolfish grin by kissing your nape. He knew what he was doing.

"Well of course." The eldest Delmont was quick to bring a fork full of food to your lips, the heat in your stomach only worsened as he stared down at you so lovingly. Being hand-fed was embarrassing, but with each passing moment the electric feeling of Manny's wandering hands paired with the downright lustful way Caspian was staring at you, and each of the little proud noises he made whenever you took a bite, quickly wiped away any embarrassment. 

You managed to usher Caspian to his seat so he himself could eat, Manny seemed much too preoccupied caressing your body to feed himself, so you cleared your throat, it was almost comical how each of their heads snapped towards you, like a pack of puppies waiting for their next command.

"So- uhm, what's on the agenda today?" It was hard to keep your voice steady, Manny's fingers danced up and down your sides in an addicting manner.

"I've gotta head into town with Manny and Gabe, pop needs us for a few hours but when we come back I'll make it up to you okay love?" Ricky spoke first seemingly genuinely upset at the prospect of leaving you, the other two mentioned visibly deflated at the news, and the younger twin tightened his hold on you.

Once those three departed Marcos loudly announced he was taking a bath and how lonely it be, oh if only someone would help him, only leaving when Caspian launched his slipper at the devious Twin.

Which left you with the gentle giant of the house.

You helped Cas clear the table no matter how adorable the pout on his face was. It felt so normal, drying the dishes as he washed, a soft song playing in the background.

"How are you doing? I mean really doing." He spoke so gently, so earnestly, the truth couldn't help but come out of you. "I feel like I'm dreaming. Like I'm gonna wake up any second and all of this will have been some strange concoction by my lonely brain." You laughed as you spoke, but it was true.

It was as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Why do you say that Honey?" He seemed so concerned, enough to set the plate he had in the sink, dry his hands, and turn and face you fully. "Well- I mean it is all very dreamy, plus you guys all- I mean what you said at breakfast yesterday, that you all um-" For some reason, the words refused to leave like you were embarrassed to say them Incase you were wrong.

"Love you?" He asked, gently taking each of your hands, "Yeah- I mean I'm flattered, fuck any one of you being into me is like a dream but all of you? I'm just kinda, scared I guess? That this is another one of those jokes where I'm the only one not in on it." His frown was so out of place on his face, how disturbed he seemed. Before you could backpedal he was lowering himself down just enough to scoop you up and sit you on the kitchen counter.

"I'm so sorry baby, my poor girl." He sighed, thumb brushing against your cheek. "Your brain is being mean to you, that's just not gonna work for me." He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and undid his apron with a finesse that had your thighs clenching together. "We shoulda' told you how we felt years ago. Then it be unquestionable. I guess I just gotta convince you some other way right?" He had this look in his eye, the bass in his voice made your next words come out shakey.

"What did you have in mind?"

[missposessive]

HELLO! may I request a elysia x reader :3 I LOVE HER SO SO MUCH OSMDHSJS okay

reader and elysia baking cookies together pls or reader bakes cookies for her and surprises her with them

-> cookie baking

synopsis -> you and your girlfriend, elysia, bake cookies together!!!

a/n -> I LOVE ELY TOO AHHH i lkke squealed when i saw this request shes so cute i love her so bad

warnings -> none! pure fluff :)

w/c -> 645

knowing your girlfriend, elysia, ideas like this were so common! so you took no surprise to her skipping into the living room and flopping down on the couch, kicking her shoes off and cuddling into your warm body.

“hiii~” she mused, smiling up at you. “i have a fun idea, hear me out.”

you listened as she spoke about how aponia and griseo baked cookies together that morning, on the behalf of griseos request. she saw and she thought it was cute, and now she wants to do the same thing with you, too. 

you nodded, before lightly pushing her off of you and getting up to check and make sure you have the right ingredients. 

you didn’t.

so, that made for an eventful late night shopping trip with elysia! you came in needing flower and chocolate chips. you both knew that. you both repeated it to yourselves with each other over 40 times, at least.

you spent over 100 dollars and have a cartful of grocery bags. whoopsies! 

but it’s okay, you got to go out with your girlfriend. she made it fun anyways. but back onto the point!

you two immediately went to work in the kitchen, with elysia telling you the ingredients and you mixing them together. your ipad was filled with flour, due to elysia wanting to make the dry mixture but accidentally spilling a whole thing of flour everywhere. you laughed at the sight, making her laugh too.

there was also another accident in the kitchen, where you both “accidentally” put a whole entire bag of chocolate chips into the mixture (where you later on regret it), leading to even more laughter.

she tried to initiate a flour fight a couple times, but you didn’t necessarily feel like cleaning even more of a mess up tonight. she understood, so she just bounced around the kitchen, bringing you all the ingredients you needed. 

thats when she brought out heart and flower shaped cookie cutters! when she laid them down on the counter, you swore you could see her eyes glimmer with happiness. you smiled, feeling incredible that you could bring such a heartwarming experience to your gorgeous girlfriend. 

“alrighty, into the oven they go!” she laughed a little, before putting pink oven mitts on her hands and sliding the cookie pan onto the top rack. “these look sooooo yum. i hope they turn out alright…” 

you pat her back, and she grins. “they’ll be fine, i just hope all that chocolate poured into them wont do too much harm. these are gonna be really sweet, but if they don’t turn out right, we can always make another batch.”

she nodded. “and we could relive this night all over again. this was a lot of fun, y’know.”

“you’re right, it was,” you chuckled, before turning around and looking at the mess awaiting. “but if we don’t clean this mess up soon, we’re gonna get a bug problem. i don’t think either of us could even fathom finding bugs all the time.”

“ew, i don’t even want to think about that,” elysia makes a disgusted face before turning around and wetting a washcloth. “bugs are so nasty, you’re gonna be the one squashing them if they find their way in here!”

you laughed, cleaning up your mess before taking a seat on the couch with a glass of cool red wine in your hand, elysia following you. 

“how many more minutes until the cookies are done, did you check?” you look over at her, watching her pacewalk over to the oven. 

“we can take them out now!” she calls, putting back on the oven mitts and sliding the cookie pan out of the oven.

when they cool off, you two turn on your show of choice, eating your heart shaped cookies. the chocolate was too much, but its the experience that counts, right?

[whoreforhorror]

Kinktober Day One: Hunter/Prey with Asa Emory (The Collector)

He had cameras everywhere, and he knew every corner, nook, cranny, and speck of dust that moved about in his bastardized hotel. So when you proposed your idea to him, that he try and chase you down while you ran, he'd almost laughed. There was no way you were getting away from him. You knew it, he knew it. Still, his held-back laughter morphs into a grin under his mask as he runs the idea through his head. He liked this.

Oh, he liked this.

He took the liberty of disarming his dangerous traps, the ones that could hurt or kill you. After all, he couldn't let his little bug get injured or squashed before he got to have his real fun. At eight p.m. on the dot, the door to your room unlocked, and the game was on. 

You got fifteen minutes to run before Asa left his control room and came after you. Taking off running, your goal was to get to the exit and out of the hotel before he caught you. Did you know where that was from the room? No. Still, you ran, choosing directions at random, guided only by your intuition and luck. 

Your heart was already pounding, even before you took off running. The thought of Asa coming after you, his six-foot form charging ever closer as you tried to beat him at his own game, his eventual capture of you, and just what he'd do to you after. It all went to your head, sending adrenaline through your system and making you unimaginably turned on. Asa accepting the proposal was like Christmas day, and you were going to take full advantage of this and make him want it over and over and over.

The halls split into countless other hallways, sharp turns and left or right splits making the place a jumbled nightmare to try and remember as meaningless doors fly past. You were still on the upper floor, having not found any sign of stairs yet when a loud beep sounded through the halls. Fifteen minutes had flown past far faster than you'd thought and Asa was on the hunt. What floor his command center was on was just as much a mystery as what side of the building it was on, meaning you could have just a few halls or the entire building between you two.

Your mind was wrapping itself up in where Asa was, taking your mind off of processing the halls you ran in and out of, meaning you hadn't even seen the tripwire before you were flat on the ground, stomach first. Instinct forces your muscles to clench and your eyes to squeeze shut as you roll to the side. A loud metal slam makes your eyes shoot open, landing on a metal cage that'd fallen. The first of many traps that were left active that, while they wouldn't harm you, would mean you were stuck in place until Asa came and got you.

You were stunned as you just lay on your side, on the ground, staring at the metal cage as you panted from exertion. The sound of heavy, rapid footsteps is the thing that breaks your attention and snaps your brain back into action, and you're on your feet and running again. Asa was on the same floor and he'd definitely heard the smashing sound of the cage hitting the floor, maybe even the sound of you hitting the ground and the air being forced from your lungs if he was close enough.

More halls, more sharp turns, and the sound of your heart practically breaking your ribs with the force it's pounding in your chest serve as the only consistencies throughout the first floor of the building. You're running so quick you almost run clean past the stairwell door. Stumbling to slow down enough, you grab the handle and yank the door open, sprinting down the stairs two at a time. When you round the landing onto the second cluster of stairs, you catch a glimpse of all-black clothing and the signature black mask he wears as he hunts down his victims. Asa is just a flight of stairs behind and flying down them. 

The instinctive yell of surprise worms a way out of you as you scramble for the door to the next, lower floor. Your breath picks up as you take off sprinting down the next floor's halls. They feel more narrow, the turns tighter and the layout less and less sensical, but you can't tell if it's the adrenaline or a genuine layout change. The loud, pounding footsteps behind you ring out in your head, consuming far more of your mind than they had any right to.

It's all your mind can truly focus on. The fleeting doors and the confusing layout were fickle in their grasp of your attention, but the footsteps, the slamming of Asa's feet as he races to catch you, to grab you and slam you down and take his reward. That's the only thing that truly stuck with you. You start to feel less and less like a person running from another person, and more like a rabbit running away from a wolf chasing after its dinner. The fear is delicious, not just to you but to Asa as well. 

His legs are longer than yours, his endurance and speed more fine-tuned and practiced than yours. His whole life revolves around finding his victims and hunting them down. A little bug like you, unafraid of losing their life and running for the sake of the chase, he'd have no problem with you. He gains on you, inch by inch, as you turn more suddenly, push your legs to go just a little faster with a stride that's just a little longer. 

You can hear the stomping getting closer, louder. His breath fans over the back of your neck but you can hardly tell if it's really him or a figment of your imagination brought on by the fight or flight instinct.

And then, nothing. The footsteps stop dead as Asa suddenly stops chasing after you. It sets off alarm bells in your mind but you're more focused on using this to your advantage and getting distance between the two of you. You reach for the door in front of you and wrench on the handle but it doesn't move. Locked. The door on the wall to your left. Locked. To the right. Locked. You'd run yourself right into a dead end and Asa stood about ten feet back, down the hall and the only way to go. You don't feel like the rabbit running from the wolf now. You feel like a rabbit that's been backed into a trap with nothing to look at and nowhere to go but the wolf. You freeze, staring at him, your mind racing a million miles a minute to come up with any possible solution to get out of this. You'd only made it down one floor, with at least another floor to go if not two or three more. You're nowhere near the exit, and you wanted to give him a run for his money; a sentiment that was proving way harder than you'd originally thought. 

Your eyes fall to the little bit of space by his legs, either side of him, the biggest opening between him and the hallway walls. You hardly think about it, you don't have time, and you run right back towards him, ducking down and twisting to slip past him. Your head gets past him, shoulders too before he shows any signs of reacting.

But for as fast as you are, he's faster. His gloved hand shoots around your waist and he grabs your shoulder with the other hand, grabbing you from behind and using the momentum to turn and slam you up against the wall. You struggle, trying to push off the wall or worm out of his grip to no avail. He moves his hand on your shoulder so that his forearm goes across both your shoulder blades, and he leans his weight on that arm to keep you pinned. His head comes to be just next to yours, mouth centimeters from your ear as he breathes, somewhat heavy and ragged but nowhere near the exhaustion in your breath.

"Little bug." Asa says lowly in your ear "Did you really think you'd get far? Truly?"

You couldn't come up with much to say back. You wanted to be smart, you wanted to be clever and say you had a plan, but you didn't. You knew you wouldn't escape and you didn't want to. You knew that, and you'd brought this up, and it'd gone just the way you wanted. And you were sweaty, panting, and horribly horny. His firm forearm across the backs of your shoulders, his tight grip on your waist, this body pressing up against yours to hold you up against the wall. It's all so much, fear and adrenaline rushing through you in waves. Your pupils dilate, your knees grow weak, and a lump forms in your throat.

"Didn't think so." Asa's hand moves from your waist now to your chin, forcing your head to the side and making you look at him as he says lowly "You, my bug, my prize. I deserve my reward for capturing you. You, my finest specimen." 

Words escape you still and your breath comes out in pants from the exertion, the only thing you can manage to do is let out a soft, rather pathetic whimper and give a nod as you keep eye contact with him. His hand leaves your chin as he whispers "Look away from me and I'll really give you a reason to run." His gloved hand trails back down, around your waist, and to the waistband of your pants, fingers resting just under the waistband.

Fem:

"Be a good girl and stay still" Asa says, lips grazing against your ear. He lets up the pressure from his forearm on your shoulders, hand going to your stomach, fingers hooking the bottom of your shirt and pulling it up as his hand trails up to your chest. He pulls you back, off the wall but still pressed up against his back. He brings the bundled bottom of your shirt to your lips and speaks again. 

"Hold." He says it short, with no room for argument. It's absolutely a command to be followed and you do, talking the fabric between your teeth as his hand comes back down to rest on your stomach, keeping you against him. The cold air of the hotel fanning over your breasts and stomach, spreading goosebumps across your sweat-covered skin.

His hand in your waistband pushed in further, fingers just barely brushing over your clit over top of your panties. Your stomach tenses as you bite down harder on the fabric and a moan wracks you.

His fingers ghost over your clit, around it, with no pressure at all. He's teasing you, just barely touching you knowing it would drive you crazy and it does. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, breath heavy not from the running anymore but from the arousal and desire taking over your senses. He's the only thing that exists, his voice, his touch, his predatory and commanding posture and hold. He continues to tease, grazing and circling but not giving you what you want. 

It's only when your whines and whimpers grow and you start to twitch and writhe in desperation that he moves his fingers directly onto your clit, separated by the thin, soaked fabric of your panties, rubbing slowly and increasing his pace in a gradual but unhurried manner. The pleasure that courses through you makes you writhe and moan louder and louder. Asa's hand moves again from your stomach to your throat now, holding with enough pressure to hold you still but not enough to restrict your breathing. 

You want more, want to feel him bend you over and slam inside you, but you can't verbalize it because of the shirt in your mouth. His fingers work magic, applying pressure that's just right with practiced, fine-tuned, and rapid movements. Your brain goes fuzzy as your muscles tense in pulses. You get closer and closer, Asa's hand on your neck moving one more to hold your chin and make sure you stay looking at him as you climax.

Your whole body tenses entirely as your vision goes white. You're breath stops entirely for a moment before it resumes, coming out in short pants now as you come down from your high, going slack in Asa's hold. He brings his hand out from your pants and takes your shirt gently from your mouth, covering you once more. Letting you go gently, he helps you down gently so you're sat on the ground. He stands above you now, adjusting his gloves.

"Make it further next time and just maybe I'll give you more, little bug." He turns and walks off without another word or another glance, leaving you there to recover. Several clicks sound off around you, the traps now rearmed. All of them.

Shit.

Masc:

"Be a good boy and stay still" Asa says, lips grazing against your ear. He lets up the pressure from his forearm on your shoulders, hand going to your stomach, fingers hooking the bottom of your shirt and pulling it up as his hand trails up to your chest. He pulls you back, off the wall but still pressed up against his back. He brings the bundled bottom of your shirt to your lips and speaks again. 

"Hold." He says it short, with no room for argument. It's absolutely a command to be followed and you do, talking the fabric between your teeth as his hand comes back down to rest on your stomach, keeping you against him. The cold air of the hotel fanning over your chest and stomach, spreading goosebumps across your sweat-covered skin.

His hand in your waistband pushed in further, rubbing with barely any pressure over your hardened cock. Your stomach tenses as you bite down harder on the fabric and a moan wracks you.

He keeps up with the soft, barely there grazes and caresses, intentionally not giving you enough to give you real pleasure, intending to drive you crazy and it does. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, breath heavy not from the running anymore but from the arousal and desire taking over your senses. He's the only thing that exists, his voice, his touch, his predatory and commanding posture and hold. He continues to tease, grazing and circling but not giving you what you want. 

It's only when your whines and whimpers grow and you start to twitch and writhe in desperation that his touches grow firmer gloved hand wrapping around your dick, separated by the fabric of your pre-cum soaked underwear, his rubbing slowly and increasing his pace in a gradual but unhurried manner. The pleasure that courses through you makes you writhe and moan louder and louder. Asa's hand moves again from your stomach to your throat now, holding with enough pressure to hold you still but not enough to restrict your breathing. 

You want more, want to feel him bend you over and slam inside you, but you can't verbalize it because of the shirt in your mouth. His hand works magic, applying pressure that's just right with practiced, fine-tuned, and rapid movements and twists. Your brain goes fuzzy as your muscles tense in pulses. You get closer and closer, Asa's hand on your neck moving one more to hold your chin and make sure you stay looking at him as reach your peak and cum, pants and underwear still on. 

Your whole body tenses entirely as your vision goes white. You're breath stops entirely for a moment before it resumes, coming out in short pants now as you come down from your high, going slack in Asa's hold. He brings his hand out from your pants and takes your shirt gently from your mouth, covering you once more. Letting you go gently, he helps you down gently so you're sat on the ground. He stands above you now, adjusting his gloves.

"Make it further next time and just maybe I'll give you more, little bug." He turns and walks off without another word or another glance, leaving you there to recover. Several clicks sound off around you, the traps now rearmed. All of them.

Shit.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  TEDewitt! @tedewitt has 43 works posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 42 of them are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @tedewitt:

Let's Search The Skies (For A While)

Orange Cat Wanted

I'd Miss You Even If I'd Never Met You

Ready Or Knot

Wet Ret Rock God

"They are a f**king amazing writer and I need them to know that or else" -- anonymous

They also had this to say about TEDewitt:

"Choosing only five fics was a special kind of torture. TEDewitt is a fantastic writer, perfectly executes incredible ideas, and they deserve the spotlight so much."

Below the cut, TEDewitt answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Honestly it was kind of by accident. I am an old fanfiction reader who started with Nsync fanfiction back in the early 2000s (told you I was old). I haven’t written anything in like 20 years and Steddie was so captivating that I was bitten by the bug and can’t stop.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I love Modern AUs. Take the Upside Down out of it, take the powers, hell take the 80s out and I’m there. Beyond that, I love fake dating, especially when they make so much sense that everyone’s like, “Oh yeah, this totally works.”

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Omegaverse. I’d never heard of it before this fandom and I’m a little obsessed. I love how you can do whatever you want and it still makes sense. Other than Omegaverse, I’d say Famous AUs. The least we as a fandom can do is let Eddie live his rockstar dream in fandom.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Tuesday’s Gone With The Wind by thisapplepielife I will never forget how I felt the moment I read the last chapter. I have never sobbed like that over a fic. The Gareth themed sequel series got me through the grief of losing my son’s father in a car accident the day after Tuesday’s last chapter was posted. I could never repay thisapplepielife for what their writing has done for me.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Hanahaki is such an intriguing trope, I have an idea for it and just haven’t gotten it written down yet. That and I have a cult themed outsider POV DD fic coming eventually. My problem with writing is that I try to write as many different tropes as I can because I just love them all.

What is your writing process like?

My writing process is a hot mess. I’m so sorry friends, I do not have any tips, tricks or secrets. I’ve had 15k fics that just appear because of a single scene. The closest thing I have to a process is when I’m writing a Movie Or Book AU. With those I will write out the entire plot in bullet points so I can make sure to keep track of the things I want to keep. Then, I start moving things around, deleting, and even flip the plot around entirely. Once I have “the plot” I start building the world and actually write it all out. God help Jordan who has to decipher my notes.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I sneak in pop culture references in every single fic. It could be a line, a street name, a lyric, something. I used to make and sell indie nail polish in my spare time and they were all pop culture themed so now I sneak it in everywhere I can. I honestly need to make a list of all of the references just to see if anyone’s found them all.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of fics with deadlines which is honestly so helpful. Having a schedule or a plan that someone else is making me stick to is perfection. If I have to make the plan? Well, I get lost in world building so it’ll be late. Don’t look at my WIPs, I know they aren’t finished and I’m sorry in advance.

Which fic are you most proud of?

This is such a hard question, it’s like picking one of my children. If I have to pick then it’ll have to be Orange Cat Wanted. It started off as a goofy little thing and ended up being a fic all about loss and grief. I have 5.5 chapters written so far and Steve has yet to show up and likely won’t for another chapter or so. Oops.

How did you get the idea for Let's Search The Skies (For A While)?

I heard Anne Hathaway and Nicholas Galitzine were making a movie for The Idea of You. I love both of them so I checked out the book and hated the ending. The same day I made a list of things I wanted to change about the book and thus the fic was brought to life. Jordan was an incredible help during this writing process. If you ever need a cheerleader they are the only choice.

When writing Let's Search The Skies (For A While), what was something you didn’t expect?

I never expected this fic to take over my life. I spent 7 months writing it and now I have art and a physical copy of it in my home. It’s my baby.

What inspired Orange Cat Wanted?

Literally a Facebook post about a woman who wanted to hire an orange cat for her daughter’s birthday party. I still have the link to the article saved which you can read here. It’s wild that one little thing turned into the unfinished fic that it is now.

What was your favorite part to write from I'd Miss You Even If I'd Never Met You?

This fic is an AU of The Wedding Date and I was able to play around in that movie’s world while also writing a Fake Dating trope. The whole thing was so much fun to write. While the movie itself is not very popular, people seem to really resonate with this fic which took me completely by surprise. Honestly, the reaction to the fic was the best part for me. I never saw it coming.

How do/did you feel writing Wet Rat Rock God?

My siblings are notoriously hilarious and because of it, I’ve always been labeled as the not funny one. This fic was my chance to stretch my comedic skills and really try to make people laugh. I had so much fun trying to figure out names and backstories for everyone. It was so hard to keep it to myself as I was writing, because I wanted everyone to enjoy it as much as I did.

What was the most difficult part of writing Ready Or Knot?

You mean besides trying to figure out how to spin the TV show Love is Blind into omegaverse? Honestly keeping everything straight. There were so many moving parts to that fic with the couples swapping back and forth, the multiple dates, and even their scents. I had a little cheat sheet that I used like my bible to keep it all together.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

Hands down it’s a scene in He Drives Me Crazy & I Can’t Help Myself Claudia agrees with him while Wayne comes in with the voice of reason. “Why does the owner of a business need a doctor’s note for a sprained ankle?” “Thank you! I told him that he was being ridiculous. I promise guys I’m fine.” Steve goes to get up and Claudia and Eddie protest. “Guys I’ve gotta pee. Unless you wanna help with that, I think I’ve got it.” “Eddie please don’t.” Dustin calls out as if he’s wounded. “I didn’t do anything!” “You were thinking about it. I know you.” “You’re in luck Dustybun, I’m not a fan of watersports.” “I thought you loved surfing when you were in California.” Claudia chimes in helpfully as Dustin screams and Eddie laughs.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My Eddie Munson Big Bang fic is coming out in a month and a half called I Wanna Grow Old With You. I’m super pumped for that one. I have the Steve Harrington Big Bang coming up soon too, but mums the words on that one. I’ve got about a million ideas set for this year so keep your eyes out for all the fun stuff. Honestly I’m an open book so if you ask me what’s on the horizon I’ll tell you unless I can’t for BB secrecy reasons.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Finding the Steddie fandom has completely changed my life. When I first got back into Stranger Things I was fresh out of an abusive relationship and horrifically depressed. Eventually I made my way to the Steddie fandom (after a quick detour in Hellcheer) and met my favorite people in the entire world. I’m lucky enough to have met Jordan in real life and can call them my IRL bestie and not just my online bestie. I talk to Jordan and Erin every single day and I don’t even talk to my own family that much. If you’re someone who’s lurking around in the fandom, take the plunge, get to know your fellow fanatics. It’s the best decision I’ve made.

Thank you to our author,  TEDewitt, and our nominator! See more of TEDewitt's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

Brenny omegaverse with Brady not thinking he's good enough for Benny. Their first time, Benny touches and makes love to him so reverently, it almost changes his mind.

Can’t believe you’d try to come onto my blog and give me feelings on a Saturday 😱😘

I’m imagining omega Brady that has always hated his designation because he doesn’t want to be delicate, or dainty, or demure like society tells him he has to be. He wanted to keep running around with his alpha and beta friends like when they were children. Playing baseball, wrestling, hunting for bugs, and everything the nuns at school started to cluck their tongues at him for once he presented.

He gets a bit of a reputation, even before he joins the army, for being a mouthy brat. He’s no worse than any of the alphas or betas but because he’s an omega, he gets constantly chastised and sneered at for it. Told over and over that he’s not good, that he’s bad. He holds onto his cocky attitude with a white knuckled grip but the older he gets, the more he really starts to internalize those messages. Now he doesn’t just hate his designation he’s started to hate himself as a whole.

Enter Benny who laughs when Brady gets annoyed and snaps at him, always has something to snap right back. Benny who finds Brady struggling to breathe, chest feeling like it’s caving in on itself, clutching his rosary so hard he can’t feel his fingers and tells Brady that he can’t take care of everyone else if he’s not taking care of himself.

Brady won’t hear it though. So Benny starts doing things to lighten Brady’s load everywhere he can. Starts checking in with friends and crew members and giving Brady reports so he doesn’t have to. Tells Brady how handsome and capable and incredible he is every day no matter how many times Brady picks a fight over it. Makes sure Brady’s clothes are laundered so that rather than run out of time after he’s checked everyone else’s and not getting his done, it’s all just taken care of. Benny tries to spoil Brady rotten with dinners, shows, dancing, drinks, treats, you name it. Sometimes it makes Brady’s head stop spinning but sometimes it makes his chest clench even more because he’s convinced he doesn’t deserve it. He’s not a good omega, he’s not a good person in his mind, no matter how much he tries.

Then Benny starts telling him how much he loves him. Brady aches over the way he can’t quite believe Benny because he knows Benny’s not a liar but maybe this time Benny just doesn’t understand what he’s feeling. He finally goes to bed with Benny, still convinced he doesn’t deserve to be treated with such care because he’s selfish and he wants to pretend for at least a little while that he can actually have this.

Benny’s touch is so gentle it almost hurts. He’s whispering reverantly about how handsome Brady is, how sweet he is, how Benny can’t believe how big Brady’s heart is and that he lets Benny into it. He’s calling Brady sweetheart and treating him like something that needs to be cherished and Brady is so overwhelmed he cries. We’re talking snotty faced snobs but when Benny tries to stop because he’s concerned Brady feels like he’s been stabbed and begs him to keep going. He’s still not entirely sure he deserves it but he never wants Benny to stop.

So Benny makes love to him, slow and sweet, pressing kisses all over Brady’s face and neck, interlocking their hands together, carding his other hand through his hair and stroking down his neck and side leaving goosebumps in their wake, he’s murmuring how good Brady is into the space between them, telling him how much he loves him even through Brady’s sobs.

It doesn’t heal Brady’s self worth struggles entirely but for a brief moment there, he truly believed he deserved Benny’s love. Benny resolved to spend the rest of his life making Brady believe it.

[carionto]

THUD, thud, thud

related story

The Earth is being held together by duct tape and sheer force of will, in some locations quite literally. Countries-wide rubberized titanium-alloy netting reduces the rate of continental collapse, globe-encompassing pipelines send expelled magma flows from the ever growing number of active volcanoes towards the Pacific Abyss to somewhat reduce the size of the hole and delay the inevitable calamity, and countless local efforts everywhere try and keep the rock beneath our feet from splitting further.

Despite this, Humanity keeps on keeping on with all other matters that have concerned us from the beginning and will continue forever onwards. Games, culture, love, innovation, squabbles, politics, war, and repeating ourselves.

After our ascension into the stars and amongst civilizations much older, some from before our pre-history even began, many were hopeful they would have a solution that could save Earth.

They didn't.

Most sapient races emerged from planets far more stable and comfortable than Earth was before we blew a 200km hole in it, cue all the consequences, so their standards for what a planet worth terraforming in the first place are much more narrow than our own. When we described and showed the current conditions of our homeworld, they were aghast at the fact anything was alive down here, let alone thriving.

To be fair, we were in the middle of a mass extinction event, then things got explodey, which caused another, far faster mass extinction event. Currently there are more archived species in deep cryo storage out in space, about 2.4 million in fact (mainly bugs and flowers), than living on the surface.

Still, there's no place like home, and no doubt there will be millions of people who choose to go down with it rather than leave Earth behind and witness its demise. Still millions more are trying every creative approach to fix things.

Since we're dealing with matters of the tectonic plates and the mantle layer, most serious efforts involve a lot of deep sea endeavors and expeditions into the dozens of literal cracks in the Earth that did not form into volcanoes simply due to the fact they're between several earlier formed ones, so there's just not enough magma flow left over between.

Thus were born the deepest and most insanely dangerous spelunking expeditions - and it's quite safe to say this - in the entire Galaxy. We're probably the only ones stupid enough to go down holes, some of which are well over a hundred kilometers deep, with the intent of closing the hole, or pushing the walls further to close a different, even bigger hole. Some are being filled in, and such efforts would succeed if the Earth weren't missing several quadrillion tons of matter and we had a few thousand years to do it.

The seismic activity of Earth more closely resembles that of a planet only a few hundred million years old. A thousand years ago we dismissed the term "Deathworld". Seven hundred years ago we redefined it. At present, many of us are try to deny it. In less than a century, Earth will fully live up to the term.

---beneath the deepest below---

(some context: 1 2)

The soothing pressure is weakening. The being at the center of anything it chooses, lays dormant still. Its focus, what little it has decided to maintain in its slumber, is on a distant something that should not be beginning to end yet.

Some being is acting out of turn, breaking how things are - for a fraction of a moment, before the Order of Things reasserts itself. Why must there always be a renegade...

Where it slumbers is exerting the faintest of feeling upon it. Another something that should not be. Yet all around there are nothings. Too many nothings. Some precede a further venting of the comforting pressure.

Nothings are still nothings. A something demands the only attention it maintains. Most eyes fully shut, another slightly shut. Should a matter be discovered to be worth awakening for, only then will all the nothings and almost somethings be done away with.

Nothings are a distraction when dealing with somethings in the waking state.

[starsurfacemortalkombat]

Hcs for CG Kotal Kahn MK11 with a baby regressor 🥺

Yes of course!!! :D

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Kotal Kahn Hcs

👑 Oh my goodness, loves baby regressors, but is also so scared to accidently hurt you!!! :(

👑 Your so precious and soft, warrior or not, now your his little baby

👑 Kotal's a big guy, and he's a little afraid of accidentally grabbing you slightly too hard or set you down wrong

👑 You gotta make sure to tell him that he's going to be okay hugging and carrying you because he's obviously being gentle and he's never hurt you in the past (he's just being cautious)

👑 But honestly, this man is a cuddle bug, he adores cuddling with you and squeezing you and oh my goodness you're just so adorable!!

👑 Adores tummy time but more specifically, when you lay on top of him

👑 Finds it entertaining if you try to eat his nose because of how small you are

👑 He finds a lot of things you do funny

👑 Holding into his finger tightly before he dared moved your bottle slightly out of your mouth? He didn't know you had such a powerful grip!!

👑 Getting fussy and the only thing that will calm you down is either your paci, or chewing on his hand (he's okay with it), how interesting

👑 If you go nonverbal or mostly just babble, his supporting of it!! And encourages it!!

👑 But uh . . . He wasn't the best with it at first.

👑 Got a bit confused with babbling, especially when you first do it

👑 Like, it's adorable, little one . . . But what are you saying??

👑 Don't worry, he gets better over time, and adores it when you just babble to him like it's a normal conversation

👑 Panics the first time you babbled because you wanted or needed something and ran around the room confused

👑 Treats you like royalty!!! You are his little prince/princess/Little royalty after all

👑 You saw something you wanted at the market? Already buying it, it doesn't really matter the price. Yummy food that looks delicious? It’ll already be in your hands

👑 Who's going to question a Kahn after all? Especially if it's during MKX, he gets a little less stricter around MK11

👑 Since your so young, you get away with a lot of things because your so small

👑 (^ Also you couldn't have MEANT do it, so there's no real need to take action)

👑 If your a bit older though, he'd probably give you a time out and no amount of fussing will change his mind (justice must be served and what not)

👑 Although if you begin crying . . . he'll most likely drop it

👑 I'm not sure exactly how his powers work, but I know he can do stuff with light?? Like, sun powers?

👑 He'll be your night light, don't you worry (or atleast keep a small beam until you fast asleep)

👑 If your a very sleepy little, that works out perfectly for both you and him

👑 You get to cuddle up to him and he gets to carry you around everywhere? Sign him up!! :D

👑 No one, and I mean no one, will ever judge you for regressing out in public (someone did once and they were ‘let go’ of their position)

👑 More MK11 Aftermath, but even if he isn't Kahn anymore, he still treats you like royalty

👑 I like to imagine him and Jade (or atleast him) were put back into General command so he still has some power

👑 Kitana adores you and not only do you have the General on your side, but the entire royal house

👑 No ones making fun of you, and you get spoiled >:3

👑 Kotal's favorite CG nicknames are Ko-Ko, Papa, Dada, and Ko-Ta

👑 So many nicknames for you!!! Mostly royalty related, but also likes calling you Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Baby Girl/Boy, Little One

👑 Favorite activity is to just cradle you in his arm

👑 Your just so . . . tiny, and small in his arms

👑 (^ is also really helps you feel small)

👑 He'll happily bottle feed you, or walk around the room and bounce you until you fall asleep

👑 Likes to help you with little activities!!

👑 You'll sit on his lap and try to figure out what blocks go into what

👑 Will praise you and give you candy when you've done it all correctly!! :D

👑 (^ Although if you just hand him the block . . . he'll do it for you, and still give you candy)

👑 Unfortunately, no thumb sucking allowed >:(

👑 Instead he gets you a paci or a teether

👑 But like, a really fancy decorated paci

👑 And one of the best tethers you can find

👑 Only the best for his baby, after all!!

👑 However, if your out in public or don't have access to your stuff, he'll allow it for now

👑 Will buy you 100 and 1 stuffies, and still buy you more if you request

👑 HE is slowly losing bedspace

👑 Why? Because the stuffies need a spot to sleep!! And his bed’s so big already!! 🥺

👑 Will play peek-a-boo with your stuffies just to make you giggle, it's music to his ears :]

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I really hope I got them somewhat right. I dont know a lot about Kotal, I just think he's super cool. :3

[cuttyclowngirl]

DAIMA EP.10 (Spoiler)Review/theories

• NOW we've seen every shot from the 2 minute trailer.

• Majin Kuu immediately made it clear they're not the big bad Majin Dr Arinsu hoped for, as some of us suspected. Poor silly goober. I hope we hear him sing someday.

• It's a little easy to lie to Warp-Sama. I wonder if that'll tie into the plot later on somehow. Warp-Sama letting Goku & crew pass also implies that Panzy's single jammer worked, since their Gendarmerie ship wasn't reported stolen. Nice. Though Hybis still has a collar on, so...

• I do think Goku is right in prioritizing getting everyone's adult bodies back. Their kid bodies are still holding them back a bit. Best to skip all the time it'd take to get used to them & go straight back to prime.

• The bit about Piccolo mentioning that Earth's D balls will be useless since Dende's a baby is a little pointless since they were already forced out of cool down & are already on cool down again. Everyone should be back to normal by the end of this Demon Realm adventure anyways.

• Vegeta showed an impressive amount of restraint. Hybis was seriously pushing it. Also, confirmation that Vegeta & Bulma are legally married. Cute.

• While the 2nd demon world is pretty at first glance, we see more & more evidence of Kid Buu's rampage everywhere. So many archipelagos with nothing on them, long empty stretches of ocean where maybe islands or even continents used to be. Same goes for the Namekian home world. It's a somber beauty. At least the air isn't heavy. One less nerf.

• Seems like the legend of the Kraken doesn't exist on Earth. Odd. Unless this is a case of Goku's ignorance outside of fighting.

• The plane trouble's never gonna end, huh?

• So now, if Goku & friends manage to get to 1st world, they'll get to fight an entire army of Gendarmerie, then, maybe, King Gohma, Degesu, & Dr Arinsu+ Majin Kuu, & then Tamagami #1. Good thing Goku had Glorio buy so many bugs. Only 3 revive bugs left though... But how many Join Bugs?

• The first kraken attack scene was so well done that I was legit worried for Panzy & Goku, even though... you know... It's Goku. Also Panzy can fly. She did fly much slower than everyone else, probably due to a combination of age, experience & magical strength. She should really ask for those ki control lessons... She saved the Dragon Ball, though!

• Since Porunga made a brand new Planet Namek back in the day, did he restore the trees the ancient Namekians brought from the Demon Realm, or are they basically replicas made from scratch? (This'll never be officially answered...)

• The way the Revive Bug forced out Goku's aura is clearly a callback to the scenes where Elder Guru unlocked Gohan & Krillin's potential.

• Panzy apparently already knows how Revive Bugs work. They must be used by soldiers at Kadan's castle.

• Goku's not great at charades.

• Krakens jumping out of the water is a terrifying thought. Plus, Goku mentions that he, Vegeta & Piccolo aren't strong enough to fight one yet, which I hope is an exaggeration.

• Being treated "as little more than slaves" coupled with some psycho demon demolishing their home world, plus everything that happens down the line... I hope Namekians will know peaceful days forever after Frieza gets axed again.

• Cameo from other Supreme Kai's was cool.

• People are probably confused, but it seems to me that this "Super Majin Rymus", much like the Yin Yang system between Kaio-shin & Hakaio-shin(Gods of Destruction), Majin Rymus, a being capable of creating entire universes, is clearly Zeno-Sama's counterpart in the same way. I mean, heck, Rymus looks like an old guy while Zeno is practically a toddler. Also, Goku is clearly never paying attention to these lore drops.

• I hope we get some lore behind former Supreme King Abura's seemingly arbitrary fear of outside threats.

•I hope those poor Glind trees get restored at some point.(mainly for the sake of everyone's Kai OCs)

• I hope we get a figure or something of this "Good Supreme Demon King".

• If you listen closely, you can hear Majin Kuu saying "Kuu" during his fight, similar to the way Majin Buu shouts his own name. It'll probably be more obvious in the dub.

• NEVA JUMPSCARE?! (but not, because he walks slow) Will he make it to the plane? Will he chat with the group? I can't wait to find out!

• The next EP preview looks Shintani AF. (I mean, he did work on this EP , but you know what I mean. (Also, it's not him at all, I'm wrong.))

[james-sunshine-potter]

All the many things and quirks of Steve Harrington:

A list comprised by Eddie Munson.

> He can’t sleep in the dark. He has to have at least a lamp on before going to bed. He nor I are sure what that stems from. (It bugged me at first I can’t lie, but we tried one night to keep all lights off… and Steve didn’t sleep at all, he just laid there awake for 12 hours. TWELVE FUCKING HOURS AND THEN HE WENT TO WORK ON NO SLEEP! it’s safe to say we kept the lamp on after that…)

> He doesn’t like it when the sun is in his eyes. He carries his sunglasses everywhere and will get annoyed when he forgets them in the car.

> He can only eat one thing on his plate at a time. Like if he’s got chicken, salad and chips, he’ll eat the chips in one go, then the chicken and then the salad. Things can’t mixed nor touch.

> He likes it when I stroke his hair whilst he falls asleep. He doesn’t even realise I do this, as he goes on and on about how he falls asleep better when sleeping with me. But it’s because I have learnt how to make him relaxed. (I also really like his hair. It’s so soft, like ridiculously soft. It’s meant to be petted, sue me).

> He opens his mouth when he thinks. Some days I want to stick my finger in his mouth when he does that to see what he will do but I never do (I will one day).

> He’ll talk to old people on the street. But only if they start the conversation, obviously. God, old people love him. He opens doors for old lady’s and compliments their hair and fashion. He’s very polite.

> When he is uncomfortable, he’ll play with my rings. We once had a sit down conversation with his parents (don’t ask, it was horrible) but the entire time, Steve held my hand in his lap and played with my rings (still on my fingers) until my skin was sore. (I don’t mind).

> He has to sleep with the door closed. He physically can’t sleep with the door open. Like physically can’t. Or even be in his bedroom, or mine, without the door closed. (He doesn’t feel secure otherwise, which knowing what goes down in this town, i completely get).

> He exclusively wears boxers. Calvin Klein ones to be specific. When he stretched or reached up for something, you could see the waist band peak out the top. Wears boxer shorts (loose fitting ones you know) to sleep in.

> He zones out a lot more than he thinks he does. He says he doesn’t do it that often, but he just can’t bloody remember it! He’s zoned out through entire conversations and movies. (Thankfully he’s never done it behind the wheel…).

> He watches fights he’s not involved like it’s a tennis match.

> He hums whilst brushing his teeth. (Typically whatever is stuck in his head at the time).

> He slightly rocks when he trying to focus on something. (I noticed this when he was trying to focus on a movie we were watching, but he kept getting distracted).

> He squints, even when he wears his glasses (Which I have to bully him to do).

> He picks at the skin around his nails when nervous. I have physically hold his hand to stop him. (Which, obviously, I don’t mind. But man, you should see hims fingernails they’re gross…).

> He pees like clockwork. He gets up at the say time in the night to pee. I can tell when he’s properly exhausted if he sleeps through it. (It’s 3am by the way).

> He doesn’t have nosebleeds often, but when they happen, oh do they happen. Blood gets everywhere, like lots of blood where it’s concerning. He went through an entire box of tissues and ruined a top once. He nearly fainted once (like wobbly steps, foggy eyes, went white as fuck… scary as shit).

> He can’t listen to something and count or read at the same time. If he needs to count something and has the radio on, he’ll turn it off, count out aloud and then turn it back on. If I show him something, I can’t talk until he finishes reading it or otherwise he won’t take it in. (I’m totally the same though).