#i've been 'tested' but not by an expert

[powerfulkicks]

pretty sure now i have heds after talking to someone with heds i randomly talked to at work after she also said she had gallstones. thanks gallstones!

[alexalblondo]

the one positive thing / hope I have with McLaren being in Fe is that they will (hopefully) bring quite a bit of their social media marketing experience into Fe

because as much some people may dislike social media marketing I do think that's what Fe needs right now, considering how it's becoming less accessible by the season (which I know the accessibility has been a huge draw for several people) while also having basically zero marketing on social media to make people aware of its existence

[kittlyns]

This is the first period in nearly a year that's been normal for me, and I've only been taking the steroid. I don't know what that means for me

[luveline]

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 

"You don't? You're the expert." 

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 

"Lovely?" 

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 

It only feels like years. 

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 

[gummilutt]

Custom food commitment is a thing of the past!

I want to highlight a creation by someone else today, because I think it's super cool and very useful to the community! Have you ever wanted to use custom food, but were put off by the fact that once in, you shouldn't technically remove it because it creates broken memories and tokens and whatnots? Do you have food in that you wish you could remove but don't want to because of those aspects?

Well fret no more, because jonasn has posted an updated version of his Memory Commander, that now has an invalid food removal option under Mass Deletion.../Remove EVERYONE'S Invalid Food. It cycles through the entire hood, removing memories where the food subject no longer exists, leftover plates that are empty (does not include apartment lots, or secret society lot) and fave foods referring to non-existing dishes. It could already sort of do it for one Sim at a time, but now it can do the entire hood all at once! How amazing is that?!

Check out this great mod object here

I was a tester for this function and it's been working perfectly in my testing. That said, please know that I am in no means an expert on corruption or anything such. To me this seems like a great tool that is super useful, but use is at your own risk. I've run a number of tests for jonasn on the functionality, and he's done what he could to verify the outcomes to see it's all good, but as with anything complicated there's always a slight possibility that there is something you overlooked. The object pops up a dialog that informs you how many things were removed, and if you exit lot without saving then the actions aren't saved, so I recommend just testing it if you are interested :)

Aside from this one function, the Memory Commander is also basically a one stop shop for anything memory-related you could possibly want. It can assign any game memory, it can modify existing memories to change subject etc. You can even assign other custom memories with it, as long as at least one Sim has gotten it in the hood. It's such a handy tool for anyone that likes memories, and as you know, I am memory obsessed so I am a big fan!

[copperbadge]

saw the sandwich post. i've worked at 2 different big chains in 3 different cities and you have no idea how correct you are. it's ubiquitous. i don't know what it is about poultry that is feminine but it is deemed so which makes you gay if uou order turkey i guess.

i consider myself an expert in sandwich gender science and i still don't know where tuna salad lies on the spectrum. i hesitate even to speculate.

I received this a while ago (sorry, I need to make a post about how September and October regularly murder my ability to socialize) but I've been thinking about the tuna salad question ever since. I've put it to several people I know who are familiar with the sando gender spectrum and got wildly divergent categorizations and theories.

I'm inclined to think that because it has the word "salad" in it, it's automatically gendered towards the femme end of the spectrum, but among the specific subset of Dudes Who Have Sandwich Gender Issues I also know that tuna fishing is considered quite macho because tuna are large fish, and tuna salad is primarily meat and mayo, which as we have discussed is (outside of barbecue sauce, testing pending) the most masculine of condiments.

As an aside, I had a number of people question my thesis that mayo is seen as more masculine than mustard, and my only explanation for this is that a) American mustard isn't that spicy, negating the machismo of eating something painful, and b) mustard is considered European and therefore effeminate. As a man who used to run a blog about mustard, I understand this sentiment may draw ire.

In any case, it does appear that tuna salad is a floating question mark. We're unlikely to ever serve it at the food tent -- we didn't even serve sandwiches with mayo on them this year because we were worried about food poisoning, and when you throw fish into the mix it just becomes more perilous. I leave it to the brave beings who run the delis and sandwich shops across this great nation of ours to continue to engage in the dangerous business of santhropology in the hopes one day our findings might be of value to the world.

[misfitgirlwrites]

Leap of Faith | Lucifer M. x Fem!Reader

x reader version of my first-place giveaway piece! Same night lmao, please enjoy, y'all

First time with Lucifer, but you are scared to take that big step and allow yourself to be vulnerable with him.

18+ | Female Reader | SMUT: oral (male & female receiving), dry humping, p in v sex, unprotected sex (fiction is fiction is fiction is fiction), light biting, I think that's everything guys, the x reader version is on the way so get excited 💃🏽 | STILL more sin on the way, I have a fucking threesome to write how'd I get back in this building--(I walked in willingly. Glasses on and all.)

Words: 3.54k

   Angel Dust and Husker watched you seat yourself at the bar, slumping onto the stool and placing your face against the surface.

   "Why the long face, toots?" Angel Dust arched a brow.

   "I messed up." Your response was muffled. "I need your advice."

   "What'd you do?"

   You sighed and lifted your head, "I ran off from Lucifer last night after things got a little...heated. I've been avoiding him all day too."

   "You ran off??"

   "I freaked out! I panicked! I wanted to actually express how I was feeling but I thought that--"

   "--You'd ruin the night and potentially the relationship?" Husker placed a drink in front of you.

   "Exactly. I've never done this. I've never really had the interest until now anyway. It will change everything. Maybe I'll change?"

   "You go with the flow, babe. You're thinking way too much."

   "It's easier said than done."

   "Ya gotta feel confident! You told me you've read some things."

   "Yeah..."

   "Now's the time to test it out! It's not as hard as it seems. Switch your hips, shake your ass a little, and give him the sexy eyes~" Angel Dust cooed.

   "Sexy eyes?" You tilted your head.

   "Ya know," Angel Dust turned to face you, crossing his legs. He leaned forward, locking eyes with you. His half-lidded pink eyes seemed a lot more intense and focused on you, it nearly gave you chills. It was the same way Lucifer looked at you last night. Thinking about that definitely sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine. 

   "Of course, you can do that at the drop of a dime. I've never done that in my life." You groaned and covered your face.

   "You probably do it and don't even notice!"

   "Stop beating yourself up. Everyone starts somewhere and no one starts as an expert. Not even Angel." Husker stated. 

   "You don't know that. I've always been this good." Angel Dust shrugged.

   "Talk to Lucifer and tell him how you're feeling, that's the best start. Nothing bad will happen. Angel is right about one thing, you're thinking too hard. It's obvious you both love each other, so this is nothing." Husker told you.

   You nodded and grabbed your glass. Angel Dust raised his eyebrows. 

   "I thought that was for aesthetic. Is she really--?"

   "It's a virgin drink," Husker said as you downed the glass.

   "I'm ready!"

   "That's the spirit! Go get 'em!" Angel Dust cheered as you left the parlor. "Let's hope she doesn't run off again."

   "We'll know if Lucifer is at the bar next," Huskee mumbled.

~~~

   "Like this?"

   "Almost! That looks good!"

   "...Dad, it's all misshapen."

   "Do you think my first one was perfect?"

   "Yes, actually."

   Lucifer's bedroom door was cracked, you could hear him inside with Charlie. You knocked lightly and poked your head in a bit with a smile.

   Charlie looked back and stood, holding out her rubber duck. The head was a bit smaller than usual and the body was much larger with a few small dents, but from the light purple skin, white hair, and red eyepatch, it was clearly Vaggie.

   "_____! Look!"

   Lucifer looked back as your smile widened, "she's so cute!"

   "You think so?"

   "Vaggie will love it! It has lots of sentiment and you did great on your first try!"

   "Thanks! I have to give it to her! I'll see you guys tomorrow!" A tight hug for Lucifer, then you before Charlie was out of the door, closing it behind her.

   You looked at Lucifer, rubbing your arm. "...Hey."

   Lucifer smiled, but his eyes gave away how worried he was. "Hey." He turned to face you and stood from his seat.

   You both stood in silence for a bit, each second growing more and more tense before you both blurted out. 

   "I'm sorry!"

   "What?"

   You both stared at each other after speaking in unison and you quickly spoke up, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

   "I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to--"

   "--No. Luci, you didn't make me uncomfortable. It was just me." You began to close the distance between them as you explained, "I got nervous about taking that step with you, not because I don't want to, it's because I know things will be different after. I've never done this before, and I have no experience, I could ruin everything and not even know how. I've never felt so comfortable with someone to even feel the need to do this, and it's a little scary to share a first experience with someone and not know how it will go." You stopped in front of Lucifer and grabbed his hands, caressing them with your thumbs. 

   "I love you so much. I want to do this. My mind is just getting the best of me. Angel says I'm thinking too much." You let out a light chuckle.

   "Maybe a little." Lucifer smiled at you.

   "The last thing I wanted to do was run off. I got overwhelmed."

   "I understand, it's okay. Apology accepted. Are you sure I didn't make you uncomfortable at all? If it's too soon--"

   "I'm sure, my angel." You would never get enough of Lucifer. He was so sweet, caring, and loving, why'd it take you so long to find your true love?

   Lucifer gave you a light tug, pulling you into a hug before pecking your lips, your forehead, and your cheeks, "I love you."

   "I love you too."

   "Ready to take that leap of faith with me?"

   "That's a way to put it." You laughed lightly.

   "You're scared you'll be drastically different, or we'll be drastically different. I can safely promise that won't be the case. You trust me, don't you?"

   "Of course." You nodded. "I don't trust my lack of experience."

   "If you're thinking about that, you're thinking too hard." Lucifer chuckled, staring into your eyes.

   There go the "sexy eyes" again. 

   "Well, then what do I think about, Lucifer?" You inched a bit closer.

   "What would make this moment better for you? Do what comes to mind."

   Your hands moved to the blond's face and you closed the small gap that was left between you two, pressing your lips against his.

   Lucifer's hands moved from your own to your arms. The light pecks got longer and longer after each one until Lucifer couldn't bear to pull away from your lips anymore.

   Don't think, right? What would make this moment better? You hesitantly led you both towards the bed, not breaking the kiss. You both sat down, but you weren't done yet. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled your lips away just a bit to position yourself, straddling his lap.

   "Well--R-Right now is definitely an option, but if you needed time to--"

   "No more time needed." You could feel your cheeks heating up before you quickly kissed him again.

   This time, Lucifer's hands found your hips, pulling you in closer and nipping at your lower lip. Your hands quickly went to his face, cupping his cheeks and letting out a small sigh as you melted into the kiss.

   If you had to choose your favorite thing to do, you would always choose kissing Lucifer. Instead of thinking of a good stopping point, you focused on the warm feeling pooling inside of you as Lucifer swirled his tongue around yours before lightly sucking on it. That warm feeling quickly became hot. His hands went under your shirt, caressing the sensitive skin of your lower back before slowly moving up, tracing your sides, and lifting your shirt in the process. 

   You pulled away a bit, lifting the shirt over your head and tossing it to the ground. Your hands went to Lucifer's chest, locking eyes with him as they slid down to the top button of his vest, undoing it. "You next?"

   You held back your small laugh as Lucifer rushed to take off his vest and shirt. Beautiful was the only word that could describe the blond. His porcelain shoulders were covered in a light yellow blush, along with his cheeks. You continued to trail your hands down his chest before kissing him again. The blond's hands were on your bra next, unclasping it, but not pulling away from the kiss to let you take it off just yet.

   Lucifer finally moved from your lips, kissing down your neck, "L-Love. You still want to go further?"

   "Mhm." You felt a bit fuzzy from the kiss and the trail following down your neck and shoulder wasn't helping. You were no stranger to this part of the game, but feeling the growing bulge in his pants almost made you freeze up. Remember what Angel Dust said; you've read things. You have references. 

   The woman gave a slow roll of your hips and took a sharp breath as Lucifer gasped. You quickly found a good rhythm with your hips, leaning in close until their lips were inches apart, "how is this?"

   "Don't stop, please." Lucifer let out a light moan that made you grind down a little harder.

   The friction was amazing for both of them. Lucifer felt rock hard under you now. Each roll of your hips drew a moan or a whimper from the blond, and you weren't exactly quiet yourself. The feeling against your clit had your arousal growing with each movement. 

   "Shit--_____, I can't--"

   Before you knew it, you were lifted by your hips, and their positions were flipped. You were now lying on your back and Lucifer was between your legs. His blond hair was disheveled as he panted, his fingers hooking your pants and panties.

   "I don't mean to cut your exploration short, I'll combust without even making you cum first at this rate."

   That made you blush even more, "well we can't have that, can we?"

   "No, we can't~" Lucifer pulled down both garments, tossing them with your shirt and finally letting you take your bra off as well. "You're so beautiful," his hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts, and pinching your nipples lightly. It was driving you crazy.

   "L-Luci!"

   "Am I teasing? I'm sorry, my angel." The blond's hands went to your thighs. "I'll keep going for the both of us, you just tell me at any time if it's too much." As he spoke, he spread your legs a bit more.

   "I will, Lucifer."

   "Did I already say that I love you?"

   "I'd love to hear it again."

   "I love you," Lucifer's fingers toyed at your entrance. 

   "I-I love you too." You looked at him, "You're still teasing."

   "I am, aren't I?" Lucifer slowly pushed a finger inside of you. "I'll stop now." He started to kiss your inner thigh.

   Your mouth opened slightly as his finger worked slowly, his focus more on leaving marks along the woman's sensitive skin. You could feel the slight pinch from his teeth, nearly leaving you trembling from the sensation. The blond carefully added another finger, curling both of them to stretch you out.

   "Where's your pretty voice?" The blond purred, his kisses trailing down your thigh lower and lower, "Let me hear you." He finally reached his desired destination, letting his mouth latch onto your sensitive bud while he still worked his fingers.

   A loud gasp left you this time. You could feel his forked tongue circling your clit before he began to suck and--

   "Oh my fuck--" Your's body nearly jolted as a moan tumbled from your lips.

   What should you do with your hands? After the thought came, the obvious answer came right after. Your hands slid into Lucifer's hair, earning a shiver and a moan from him once you tightened your grip.

   "Luci! Luci--!"

   That encouraged the blond to pick up his pace. You tugged at the blond strands in your grasp. "Feels good! Feels so good! Luci--!"

   Lucifer slowly removed his fingers and let his tongue delve inside your, instead using his fingers, slick with your arousal to focus on your clit. You were seeing stars. You could feel fire pooling in your lower abdomen as you began to roll your hips up into Lucifer's face. Your thighs were shaking, each flick of his tongue and roll of his fingers made you hotter and hotter. Each moan and praise that fell from your lips simply added fuel to the fire.

   "Gonna cum--"

   "Mhm." Lucifer locked eyes with you, half-lidded and blown out, begging you to cum.

   That was the final straw.

   Your back arched and your eyes closed as your hips jerked. You could feel your body pulsing, pleasure rippling through you as you came undone. Lucifer didn't move, slowing his movements to ride out your orgasm. He only pulled away once he felt the woman moving.

   The blond lifted his head, licked his lips, and smiled.

   "That was amazing." You were still steadying your breathing, smiling back at him. "Let's keep the show going~."

   A gentle push. Lucifer let you take the lead, squirming a bit once you were the one settled between his legs. You decided to start slowly, running your hands up his thighs to reach the waistband of his pants.

   A shaky breath left his lips, "m-my love. You don't have to--"

   "I'd like to return the favor." You began to pull his pants down, "let me help you feel good?"

   Lucifer couldn't possibly say no to that. He swallowed harshly, eyes never leaving you as you continued. Once his pants were off, You took a small breath. Whatever you thought you felt earlier was very much an understatement to the outline of the bulge you were seeing. The boxers didn't stay on long after that.

   You couldn't tear your eyes away even if you wanted to (you didn't). Lucifer's cock stood at attention, precum beading at the tip, urging you to continue. Your hand slowly wrapped around him and you felt him tense up under you.

   One stroke. Two, and his hips were already bucking into your strokes. You leaned in closer at a snail's pace and just when Lucifer thought he needed to beg, a loud moan left him instead when your tongue slowly dragged up the base of his dick to the weeping tip.

   "Fuuuuck! W-Who's teasing now, huh?"

   "Just a tiny bit~" You kept stroking as you wrapped your mouth around the tip, languidly circling it with your tongue before beginning to bob your head.

   It was your turn to enjoy hearing Lucifer's moans like your own little symphony as you did your best to please him. You began to take more and more of him in your mouth as Lucifer gripped the sheets under him.

   "K-Keep--"

   "Hmm?"

   "Shit! Baby," Lucifer's moans aroused You further than you thought was possible. You picked up your pace, pulling your head up a bit to focus on the blond's twitching tip.

   "Baby--" he repeated.

   Your tongue circled the tip of his cock before you began to suck. The blond's hips bucked and he cried out.

   "ShitShitShit! That's--So good--You're so good, baby--"

   You could feel him throbbing in your warm mouth. You moved your hand a bit faster, drinking in the moans and praises that left the Demon King's lips. Nothing more mattered than seeing Lucifer come undone.

   "Cumming! I'm gonna--"

   "Mhm~" You mimicked your boyfriend as he tumbled over the edge. You took each drop of cum and made sure none went to waste, swallowing his release as you kept stroking him, slowing your pace again. 

   Lucifer's chest was heaving, he looked completely sex-drunk, and you couldn't get enough of it.

   "How was that?" You asked.

   "Do you really feel the need to ask?"

   You were on your back again before you could respond. Lucifer hovered over you, strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. "Are you still up for this, my love?"

   The woman nodded, grabbing Lucifer's face. "I need you inside me."

   Lucifer let out a shaky "fuck" before kissing you again, beginning to position himself. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in close as you felt him brush against your slit. It wasn't long before he was slowly sinking into you. You felt like you could feel each inch of him until he bottomed out inside of you. You tensed up a bit and Lucifer buried his face into your shoulder.

   "F-Fuck--Are you alright?"

   A sharp nod. You were just full. Completely filled with Lucifer in a way you'd never been before, it was almost overwhelming. "Just need to s-sit." You managed to respond verbally. 

   "Take as long as you need," Lucifer assured you.

   Once you felt adjusted enough, your body began to relax. You gave a small roll of your hips as you loosened your grip. "You can move now." You told him. 

   Lucifer's movements were slow as his hips pulled back and connected with yours again. His head didn't move from the nape of your neck, a moan falling from his lips. His rhythm was slow and careful, not wanting to end things too soon, or worse, hurt you in any way. The blond could stay like this with your tight walls wrapped around him for the rest of eternity. Was planning for next time already a bad thing? Of course, he didn't think so. 

   "Lucifer," Your hands found their way up his back, making his rhythm stagger a bit. You tangled your fingers in his hair again. "Faster, please."

   The careful pace the King of Hell worked so hard to set was broken at record speed. Pleasure began to build for both of them. The familiar heat building in your core was returning, a hand moving down between their bodies, only to be stopped by Lucifer. He leaned in close, drinking in the moans and whines that left your swollen lips before speaking, his voice low in your ear.

   "Let me." His hand trailed down instead, not taking long to reach where you were headed. Lucifer rubbed at the bud with firm circles, his thrusts keeping a consistent pace. The added stimulation almost made your eyes roll back. Your walls wrapped tighter around Lucifer and his rhythm began to stagger again.

   "Baby,"

   You moaned out in response. No one's voice should be as sinful as his.

   "So good. So good, angel." The blond whimpered out.

   "Luci, please!” You could feel that you weren't going to hold out for much longer. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in as his fingers began to work faster. "Gonna cum!"

   "Cum for me. Please cum for me, let me feel you--Shit--I-I'm close myself--" His thrusts were beginning to pick up speed as he started to kiss and suck at your neck. You tugged at his hair harder, earning a muffled moan from him. 

   "LuciLuciLuciLuciLuci--" His name fell from your lips like a broken prayer as the tightening band finally snapped. 

   This was somehow more intense than the orgasm you'd just had. Your voice was taken from you, mouth open as your back arched and your pulsating walls tightened around Lucifer's cock.

   "There you go. Fuck--So good--You're so good. I--" He was throbbing inside you now, both hands gripping the thighs that were wrapped tightly around him, his claws lightly digging into the supple flesh. His eyes closed, mouth slacked as loud moans escaped him. He was so close. You decided to give him the push he needed. 

   "Please. Let me feel you, Luci~"

   "D-Don't say things like that--"

   "Cum inside me, please."

   "Shit! _____--" Nail in the coffin. One buck of the hips, then another before the blond was burying himself as deep as he could. His cock twitched and his teeth were at the nape of your neck, not fully sinking in, but certainly enough to leave a mark regardless. A string of nearly incoherent praises left him as he came undone.

   Sudden darkness in the room forced you to focus in your euphoric state. Lucifer's wings had sprouted, fluttering slightly with each tremble of his body as his tail whipped behind him before it wrapped itself around your leg. Your hands slowly moved up in his hair, feeling the base of his horns as his body finally began to relax. The two lay in their positions for a few moments longer, waiting for their breathing to even out before Lucifer slowly pulled out of you. You locked eyes with the blond, staring into the yellow you were met with. Your hands moved down to his face. 

   "How was that for a leap of faith?"

   Lucifer laughed, closing his eyes. You smiled and laughed as well as he responded, "A leap for sure, but I'll never complain. You were amazing, my love."

   "I should be saying that to you." You noticed that his tail was still wrapped around your leg and his wings still enveloped them completely. You leaned up a bit and pecked his lips before speaking, "You don't seem tired at all."

   Surprisingly enough, neither was you. The blond simply shrugged in response, leaning in to peck your lips once more, "How could I possibly get tired of you? Are you asking because you want to indulge me some more?" With that, he was lowering himself between your thighs again and the action alone set you ablaze.

   Now how could you say no to that?

Lucifer Tag List: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @liveontelevision @heart-of-the-morningstar

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Lucifer or Hazbin Hotel content, let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all!

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE GRID'S REACTION

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the grid reacts to the news!

content warnings. some drivers are acting like assholes, some cursewords, 23!grid

notes. have another reaction chapter hehe

daniel ricciardo Guys

Guys wake up

IT'S IMPORTANT

lando norris ???

daniel it's 5am, why are you spamming rn

carlos sainz It's summer break, why can't you all shut up for once

daniel ricciardo Did no one see the news? Stark is coming to F1

carlos sainz To a race?

daniel ricciardo No you shithead, he's making a team

charles leclerc !!!!

lando norris at this point you'll never win monaco (because once stark joins, there no longer will BE monaco) charles leclerc Fuck you, nowins

daniel ricciardo This is serious... Tony fucking Stark wants to create an F1 team for the next season. @/max verstappen your winning streak will be over

charles leclerc Next season??? I thought for 26?

lewis hamilton Of course he would do that

charles leclerc Lewis, explain?? daniel ricciardo Yeah Lewis, please explain?

lewis hamilton Did any of you ever meet Tony? He will probably see the next season as test for the 2026 season. To train his mechanics and engineers and go all out. I bet many are saying it's a waste of money

carlos sainz It is a waste of money.

daniel ricciardo Yeah, they do. Reactions vary but 'experts' are saying that Tony is just wasting his time and should properly prepare for 26

lewis hamilton Knowing him, he already has a fully built car for 2026 and it's a beast.

fernando alonso Only the best for his daughter!

charles leclerc What. lando norris wdym his daughter??

george russell Why are you all awake at this bloody hour?

kevin magnussen Read the room. Everyone is in schock.

sergio perez Stupid. She will fail like every woman in motorsport with a rich father. Too dramatic.

lando norris i'm still confused???

oscar piastri Tony Stark has three children. Harley Keener-Stark, Y/n L/n-Stark, Peter Parker-Stark. Y/n is his only biological child and currently racing in Formula 3. She won Formula 4 last year.

charles leclerc I thought he only had sons?? When did Y/n appear? oscar piastri She 'appeared' the first time in January this year as Tony's daughter, no one knew before. lando norris how did you know? oscar piastri Google exists.

carlos sainz So daddy's money... great.

max verstappen I swear to god I will leave this chat the next time you all decide to fucking gossip at 6am like old women

daniel ricciardo It's important news!

max verstappen No it's not. Stark will be in F1 for a few years maximum and then leave again. It will pass

daniel ricciardo @/lewis hamilton you here? Don't you have anything else to add??

Fine, I'll guess I just ask the rest of the grid, you fucking bore.

daniel ricciardo @/everyone wakey wakey, it's time to wake up and talk!

mick schumacher Daniel? What's up?

george russell Ignore him. He has been annoying us because Tony Stark is coming to F1 and no one really cares. charles leclerc Lies and slander! I care!! lando norris yeah! me as well, idk what you're yapping abt

carlos sainz It's bullshit.

arthur leclerc Why do I have a bad feeling about Monaco...

ollie bearman THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING bianca bustamante It will be something for sure

lance stroll Well, I'm just happy to see another friendly face at the paddock :)

carlos sainz Of course you know Stark.

lance stroll You're just jealous esteban ocon As am I??? I'm your best friend AND MY BEST FRIEND HAS THE POTENTIAL OF KNOWING SPIDER-MAN???? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME???????

daniel ricciardo I want everyone who knows anything related to Stark to immediately share with us because Lewis is ignoring me and I need to know. The only info we have right now, is that Stark will make a F1 team and that's it. I refuse to believe that's it. So, @/mick schumacher @/lance stroll spill the beans.

mick schumacher He didn't say anything last time I saw him, so I can't help you much.

lance stroll I know nothing, ask my dad.

daniel ricciardo I don't believe you.

pato o'ward If they say they don't know anything, then they don't? I don't know what's the problem, just wait for the next press release

max verstappen Do you even know Daniel. He's unable to wait for gossip. And he classifies this as gossip

daniel ricciardo Gee, thanks, feeling the love here

nico hülkenberg I wake up to 100+ notifications, why are you all like this?

kevin magnussen They're all idiots.

kevin magnussen @/tony stark could you please speed up with the press release? Daniel is setting all grid chats on fire and it's not funny anymore.

y/n stark ha, weak ass bitch kevin magnussen Watch your mouth missy

tony stark Should I tag Seb in a Tweet to announce it?

peter stark do it y/n stark do it harley stark do it

pepper potts-stark Don't do it. We will proceed with the plan. No matter how annoying the people in your private life are.

kevin magnussen Yes, ma'am, sorry for asking.

sebastian vettel I deserve more than a Tweet at 10am.

y/n stark speak your truth king peter stark sorry for suggesting otherwise (@/yn stark stop being such an attention seeker, we all know seb loves charles the most) y/n stark but charles is not here rn is he?

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen EXPLAIN YOURSELF?!

carlos sainz What is going on now...

charles leclerc KMAG FOR STARK???? I didn't put this on my bingo card, now I lost 100 bucks. Fuck you Kevin

arthur leclerc Pay up bitch

oscar piastri Well done, man

nico hülkenberg And so he leaves he burning, ever sinking ship... the true hero- sorry, I meant coward

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen I KNOW YOU'RE ONLINE YOU COWARD, COME HERE

I just want to talk to you

kevin magnussen No.

*kevin magnussen has left the chat*

fernando alonso There is your answer

several people are typing...

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel, @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[scientia-rex]

I've been trying to figure out what the deal is with prediabetes so I can write a meaningful response to an ask I got about it, and I just keep going wait--okay--here's one paper--but here's another one--here's a Cochrane review--but here's a different meta-analysis--and here's newer data from an RCT...

It's nuts! It's bananas. And anybody who says we have good, crisp, clear guidelines around what prediabetes even IS, much less what to do about it, is FULL OF SHIT.

What I really need to know in order to feel more confident about my handle on whether to medicate pre-diabetes is the population incidence. Not prevalence. Because if I take the most optimistic studies about medication as an intervention, specifically, I could be looking at about a 30-40% reduction in risk of progression to diabetes. But! How many people is that, actually? Because medication is not without its harms! We need to compare number needed to treat with number needed to harm, we need to have high-quality evidence that says yes, if we give this medication to everyone who meets X level of criteria for pre-diabetes (it's different in different sources AND it's changed repeatedly over our lifetime!), we will see a level of benefit sufficient to justify making these other people who would not have progressed to diabetes without it endure the hassle and side effects of taking a medication for the rest of their lives.

AND HERE'S THE REAL FUN PART: we don't really know where tissue damage begins! We thought we did! 6.5-7ish A1c. But it turns out there is a marked risk of retinopathy beginning at 5.5! Which is considered normal. AND ALSO we should probably be thinking of it as at least three separate disease based on our current ability to measure--A1c is a broad marker that collapses multiple forms of dysregulated blood sugar, and when we use more fine-grained tests, we see meaningful distinctions that probably affect preferred treatments between people who have impaired fasting glucose, people who have abnormal values on an oral glucose tolerance test, and people who have both. We should treat these groups differently because they reflect different underlying pathways: elevated fasting glucose means your liver is breaking down too much glycogen while you sleep, which is one issue, while elevated post-prandial glucose means your skeletal muscles (OR SOMETHING ELSE they're not totally sure) are behaving abnormally in response to insulin. IT'S NOT THE SAME THING and people with both impaired fasting glucose and abnormal post-prandial glucose are at higher risk of progression to diabetes/tissue damage than people with just one of those. AND WHILE WE'RE AT IT, what is diabetes? What's the best cutoff? What's the best measure? How many underlying pathophysiologies are getting collapsed into the same group????

THE MORE I LEARN ABOUT THIS THE MORE QUESTIONS I HAVE and experts are all being serenely confident while contradicting each other so I have to actually dig in the data a lot harder than I usually do. I've been meaning to do this for months, but one of the presenters this morning made a comment about the benefits of putting prediabetics on metformin that made me go "hm, do I need to start doing that?" and I've gone from my kneejerk answer being "no, we studied this and it doesn't help" to "I don't fucking know and neither does anyone else."

...as always, Cochrane is probably right.

[lovedrruunk]

Girl next door જ⁀➴♡ Chapter 3

In which Joel plays Cupid in order to help a hopeless Ellie win over the cute girl next door.

Series Masterlist!

chapter 2! - chapter 4 [coming soon!]

"Flower symbolism and all that."

w.c; 1.3k

[silly awkward Ellie Williams x fem reader!]

Ellie found herself smiling first thing in the morning. It had been two days since she had lunch with you at the cafe and she'd be lying if she said you weren't constantly on her mind. She said good morning to you from the driveway the other day and she could've sworn you smiled at her wider than usual. So as the birds chirped and the sun rose Ellie skipped down the stairs happily daydreaming. Just as she was about to peek around the corner her jaw dropped.

"Ellie! Come join us."

There on the couch was Joel sipping away at his coffee with that stupid face of his, and next to him was you.

Y'know, Ellie liked your company. She liked your face, she liked looking at it, oh and she liked your voice too, she could listen to you talk all day but even though she adored all these things she couldn't help but wonder; what the actual fuck were you doing here?

"Y/N... Hi." Her voice strained and although she was talking to you her eyes were on Joel the whole time absolutely glaring at him.

"Morning!" you chirped ignoring her hilarious angry face.

"Y/N here was just about to help me get the garden sorted. You know how long I've wanted to work on it."

Ellie looked around, finally taking notice of the gardening tools and bags of fertilizer around you two. She forced a smile, not wanting to sour your mood. "Sounds... fun."

Joel raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "You alright, Ellie?"

"I'm amazing Joel." Ellie replied, not so amazingly.

"Great!" Joel stood up, happily putting on his jacket. "I'll go grab some more fertilizer from Tommy's. You two start with the digging and planting, Y/N here is an expert when it comes to flowers."

As Ellie watched him leave, her jaw clenched. She took a deep breath, calming down.

"You don't actually know anything about gardening do you...?"

"Nope!"

. . .

As the two of you started working, Ellie stole glances at you, feeling her annoyance slowly dissipate. The sun was warm, and the conversation was light and easy.

"Here Ellie, you should plant this one," you said excitedly looking towards the crowd of flowers and plants Joel had mysteriously brought in earlier that morning. Carefully picking up the pot you handed it to her. "It's a gardenia!"

Ellie took the plant with a smile. "Pretty."

Crouching down to plant it she continues, "Thought you didn't know anything about gardening?"

"I don't, not really! I just know a lot about their symbolisms and stuff, useless information that keeps me busy." You shrugged as you went to sit next to her digging up another hole in the soil. "Like here, what's your favorite flower?"

"Oh I'm more of a fern type of person... but if I had to choose I'd say... violets."

"Violets huh?" you said, a thoughtful look on your face, "I totally see it. From what I remember violets stand for humility, and women used to use it to symbolize their love for... y'know like other women I guess? It represents like sapphic......ism? If that's a word... But yea it's one of the more romantic flowers, lot's of history and symbolism behind it." There was a short pause as you contemplated continuing or not. You figured it'd be best to stop and save yourself the embarrassment or rambling as you had already been fumbling your words terribly. "Sweet isn't it?" You decided to ask keeping your eyes on the dirt in front of you

Ellie nodded, "Yeah, it is." She was totally fucking with you.

Of course she already knew what violets represented. She just wanted to see if you knew. Y'know... testing the waters or what not. It's not evil.

"So, if I give someone a bunch of violets, it's like saying, 'Hey, I think you're cool... and also, maybe I want to kiss you on the mouth?'" She said as she finished planting the gardenia, now just sitting down looking at you dig.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Pretty much. But, y'know, in a way cooler, more poetic way. Like," You turned towards her continuing "'Hey, I'm trying to subtly tell you that I think I'm into you without making it weird.'"

Ok now you're fucking with her. Fair enough... But were you? You definitely were. Right...? Maybe.

"Well that's all good to know. Maybe I should start handing out violets like business cards. 'Hi, I'm Ellie, and yes, I like girls. Here's a flower to prove it. I like you and I don't think its weird at all... ha ha'" She let out the most monotone laugh you had ever heard in your entire life which caused you to start laughing while Ellies face fell as she looked away. 'too much?'

You grinned, playing along. "It’s a bold strategy. But hey, it might just work."

Ellie nodded silently before continuing, "So what about you? any favorite flowers?" she asked changing topics.

"Hmm tough question, there's a lot. I'm partial to daisies." you said with a shrug.

Ellie smiles again as she looks at you "Fitting."

"Yea? Why's that?"

"It just feels right."

"Oh don't give me that!" You said as you hit her shoulder teasingly.

Ellie chuckled faking a tiny 'ow' as she lightly rubbed where you had hit her. "I don't know how to explain it! You're just sweet, and... simple. In a good way of course!" She had said defensively.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Sweet and simple? That’s the best you’ve got?”

Ellie's face flushed as she frantically tried to explain herself. “I mean, not simple in a boring way! Just… like, you’re easy to be around. You make things feel… uncomplicated.” Okay she has got to stop lying to you... but would this even count as a lie? The only thing complicated was her own feelings so technically that's on her.

You laughed softly, letting her off the hook. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. I get what you’re trying to say.”

Ellie sighed as you laughed.

The two of you continued to work side by side, the earlier banter giving way to a more comfortable silence. Every now and then, your hands would brush against each other as you reached for the same tool or flower, and each time it happened, Ellie felt her heart skip a beat.

As you placed another plant into the soil, you glanced over at Ellie, noticing the way she was concentrating on her work. “You know, you’re not so bad at this gardening thing yourself.”

Ellie looked up, surprised. “Really? I thought I was just following your lead.”

You shook your head. “No, you’ve got a good touch. I mean, look at that gardenia, it’s practically glowing under your care.”

Ellie chuckled, a bit embarrassed by the compliment. “I don’t know about glowing, but I guess it’s not dead, so that’s something.”

You nudged her playfully. “Give yourself some credit, Ellie. You’re doing great.”

Ellie smiled, feeling a sense of pride “Thanks. But honestly, it’s been nice having someone to do this with. Makes it a lot more fun.” She said as she got up and made her way back towards the other plants.

“Agreed,” you said, your tone softening. “I’m glad Joel roped me into this. I wasn’t expecting to enjoy it so much.”

Ellie nodded crouching down, her back turned towards you as she scanned the pots. “Yeah, me neither. But, y’know… it’s nice, spending time with you like this.”

You kept your eyes on the garden in front of you, a small smile playing on your lips. “It is. We should do it more often. And maybe next time, we can, uh… talk about something other than flowers.” You let out a slight chuckle that disappeared when you were met with silence. You looked to her noticing her stillness but decided not to say anything as to not disturb her.

You continued to dig making room for more plants eventually humming to fill in the silence, although it came to a stop when Ellie sat beside you with a pot in her hands and a toothy grin on her face.

"I found some violets."

. . .

“I guess Joel would be... a cactus?”

“A cactus?”

“Yeah,” Ellie smiled, “Prickly on the outside, but deep down, he’s just full of... water. And love... But mostly water.”

. . .

Authors note!! I actually feel like a deadbeat dad... I KEEP BREAKING MY PROMISES U GUYS IM SO SORRRYYY anyways! i think this idea was cutesy but i wish it was longer (i say as i am the one who wrote it aka the one who gets to decide how long it is), i wrote a different ending where joel comes back and blah blah blah but tbh i love sudden endings its like a guilty pleasure yk... but yea thats all from me for now!! see u in another month!!! (JOKING.)

[TAGLIST YAY !!!! ヾ(＾ ∇ ＾).] @liasxeatt - @softlysunrays - @radioheadfan699 - @4ftergloww - @elliepoems - @sapphointhe21stcenturyposts - @cattjull - @elliescoolerwife @elliewilliamsrealgf - @ratdungeon - @nombreuxx - @localgirl56 - @givenoutlaw - @i-fucking-love-women-blog - @forgetdisturbance - @boobdrug - @ellieusedtampon - @marrycv - @cyberl33ch - @hysteriawillnotsuccumb - @ragd0ll-4 @machetegirl109 @3lliewilliamsluv3r @tphmnv @yumimak @lesbian-useless @criminallydownbad @robinphobia @naoblack87 @soupycloud @tayyyystan @seraphicsentences @dlduwlss @a-little-bit-of-everybody @xyaxyn @ailuigatsoc

[thebibliosphere]

Hello,

I feel like I may have EDS, but I’m really not sure. Recently I’ve injured myself and can’t move as I did before (especially my hands). What type doctor diagnosed you with EDS? I’m looking up signs of EDS online and a many of the figures hit a little too close to home, but I’ve never been super flexible, like I can’t do the splits or anything like that.

Ooft, ouch. Sorry about the injury :(

So there's a difference between flexible (muscles, tendons) and hypermobile (joint), so it's very possible to have EDS and be hypermobile but not hyper-flexible!

I'm not considered overly flexible (I can't do the splits either!), but a lot of my joints are hypermobile, which is why I was diagnosed with hEDS (hypermobile EDS) and not cEDS (classical EDS).

I was evaluated by a specialist almost by sheer chance. I went to see her about my mast cell issues, and when she shook my hand upon greeting me, she looked down at how my finger joints flexed in her hand, looked back up a my face, and said, "Oh, this is now an ehlers danlos screening."

So that's how I got diagnosed. After years of being told I wasn't flexible enough by rheumatologists, an expert recognized that I was hypermobile instead and diagnosed me correctly based on a series of tests. Since then, I've been able to visit EDS-aware physical therapists who have all confirmed that my body is weird and needs special attention to hypermobility muscle retraining.

It can be really overwhelming trying to find a knowledgeable healthcare provider, so if you haven't already, I'd recommend checking out the Ehlers Danlos Society healthcare professional directory:

This is a curated list of EDS-aware and EDS-specialist doctors from patients around the world. Hopefully, you'll be able to find someone or at least a better idea of where to start.

Good luck with your health journey-- I hope things can improve for you soon.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

OKAY it has been a day of being sad and panicky. Time to move.

Yesterday, I made a post detailing the cdc announcement that there will no longer be an isolation requirement for covid. If you are one of the thousands of people rightfully raging in my notes, here's some steps to focus on.

We're not gonna give up. I've seen quite a few comments with things like 'what's the point', 'why should I even try anymore' etc etc and what we're not gonna do is give them what they want! It helps the eugenics cause to be apathetic and listless. We've made it this far, we will continue to make it. I know it's hard, but I am at least right here with you. Give yourself whatever time you need to grieve, and then I need you to get up.

If you have stopped masking for any reason, or you haven't upgraded to a respirator style mask, now is the time to change or start. From now on, we will be living in a country where you could assume there are multiple covid positive people in the room with you at all times. Surgical masks will not handle that load, and cloth masks will be even less effective at that point. Obviously, this is an unprecedented situation we're putting these masks in, and I'm not gonna sit here and pretend to be an expert that can tell you with certainty that even respirators will hold up with this amount of viral load for a long period of time, but it's the best and strongest tool we have. I'm considering using my p100 more, so that's always something to consider as well (and they make you look like a cool raver when you wear them!!!). You can buy all sorts of masks here, there's more links in the comments of my original post, and most states have their own mask blocs. To find them, go to Instagram and type "[your state] mask bloc". Here is a google doc of verified advocacy groups and mask blocs all across the country here is a diy fit test kit you can buy for $30 (unfortunately they are sold out right now. shocker.) PLEASE remember to take a layered response in these times. Masks are not the only tool in our arsenal. PLEASE for the love of God keep up with your vaccinations. Make a corsi-rosenthal box or buy a high quality air purifier if you can afford it--at the very least our homes can be safe havens (you can even put a hepa filter on your furnace!!!! And in your car too!!!!!). Use CPC Mouthwash, nasal irrigation, and nasal sprays like this one. Make it a routine: you come home, you shower, you brush your teeth, you rinse your nose, you change your clothes. And, like I said in another one of my posts, DO NOT TAKE OFF THE MASK.

3. If you would like an outlet for your rage and you're into calling your reps, feel free to calmly but firmly let the cdc have it at these numbers!!!!!

[alt text: a tweet by user silly_paulie that reads:

"Disdain for the CDC unites us all. Call today and demand isolation policies be returned to 10 days, and reducing it further to 1 day would be criminally dangerous. Call both:

404-639-7000 (press 8)

800-232-4636"

end text.]

4. If you need more outlets for your rage, I STRONGLY encourage you to get involved with your local union. Moreso than calling the CDC, tbh. I've seen multiple comments telling people just to lie about your symptoms to get more sick time off, but since there's no legal precedent to allow employees sick time for covid, all that's gonna do is get people fired. I truly believe in my lefty heart that the ONLY way we're getting anything close to mitigation is through labor rights. Even the standard for the fucking flu is 3 days, and that's nowhere near as contagious or disabling as covid. I say this as a high risk person with a neuromuscular disability: covid is an intersectional issue, but where we have the most leverage to get what we need is through labor rights.

It is NOT safe for workers to be working while ill with a Level 3 Biohazard (same as TB and the FUCKING PLAGUE. Seriously we have more regulations around fucking lice)

It is NOT safe to willfully EXPOSE your employees to a Level 3 Biohazard

It is NECESSARY for all employees to be allowed up to 10 days to recover fully from Covid-19, in order to avoid possible further injury from or hospitalization

You will NOT die or be disabled for the sake of the wealthy!!!!!

(and while you're at it, ask for better air filtration too!!!! At least 5 air changes an hour, MERV-13 air filters!! Then we won't have to constantly worry about virus bs and policy changes in the first place!!!!)

5. Closing statements. Nothing has changed with covid, this is just policy. Covid still isn't magic, she still has to get in you before she can do damage--mask up, arm your home with clean air, and don't let her. It's always worse toward the end. This is not the time to give up, it's time to dig in your heels and get to work. There are so many good things happening with covid. They are finding encouraging treatments for long covid. Finally, after years of nothing, a new prophylactic for the high risk was submitted for emergency use to the FDA, and it looks like this time it's built to last against new mutations. Covid is here to stay for the rest of our lives, but the real science hasn't given up on taking the worst of its teeth out. We WILL get to the point where the extreme fear of catching covid is nothing but a bad memory for EVERYONE. All I need you to do is commit to the belief that you're gonna survive long enough to be in that moment with the rest of us.

Now stay safe, and give em hell!!!!!

[donovaneagle2098]

A Complete Encyclopedia of the Lore of Every Witcher School

This is a project I've been working on for a long time. The Witcher Schools in general have lore spread across 3 or 4 different sources, so it's very easy to find inaccurate details about each school due to a person only going off of one source without even knowing of the others. Hell, I've been guilty of this in the past. So I've gone out of my way to find every source available for the various Witcher Schools and compile it into one master post, mostly pulling from the standalone Gwent game, and the Witcher TRPG, as well as an email conversation I've had with the TRPG's writer, Cody Pondsmith. Without further ado, let's start out with the original school, the Order of Witchers.

Witcher schools are like the Clans of Skellige, subtly different, but largely united by their common ground, and that common ground is the Order of Witchers.

The Order of Witchers began as an experiment by the rogue mages Alzur and his mentor Cosimo Malaspina. They "recruited" tests subjects from orphanages, buying them from neglectful parents, or outright kidnapping street kids.

From Cosimo's Gwent Card:

"Children keep asking him for gifts. He doesn’t know why, but it really helps with finding subjects for his experiments."

The main goal of this project was to create an order of knights artificially mutated and imbued with extreme levels of magic to protect people from a world where, at the time, monsters were often literally around every corner.

The mutation experiments were grueling, and most early candidates died horribly, the girls especially, as the mutagenic compounds the mages were working with at the time were better suited for a boys physiology, and they quickly stopped trying to find a mixture that worked well with women, instead refining the more successful candidate pool to meet deadlines. Even with these refinements, however, the Witchers couldn't actually generate much in the way of magical power, at least not nearly as much as those funding the project had hoped for.

These early candidates were encouraged to stick to political neutrality, were told of their duty to protect the common people, and their sword instructor tried to encourage them to take on knightly virtues to live their lives by, though only a few candidates actually bought fully into these particular knightly ideals.

The school developed a training regimen that all later Witcher schools would put their own small twists on. They perfected the whirling sword style, practiced on the Pendulum and Gauntlet training courses. They learned the Witcher Sign magic, created by Cosimo. They were taught hunting and monster lore from experts hired from across the world, and master alchemists crafted the famous Witcher potions.

Ultimately, funding from this school would be pulled due to the Witcher candidates lack of truly powerful magic ability, and the order would start to fracture. Witchers dissatisfied with their lot in life after being forcibly mutated, and railing against the Order's enforced ideals began getting combatative with other Witchers over petty contracts. At this time, contracts were so plentiful that there was no real need to fight over them, but these dissident Witchers did so anyway out of a desire for autonomy and to be free of the Order's code, which they saw as having no practical purpose to prepare new Witchers for the road ahead, and hypocritical as it was forced on them by the mages who never cared for the Witcher's lives. This culminated in one such outspoken Witcher, Arnaghad, attacking another Witcher who poached a contract from him.

After being forced into the painful life of a Witcher, Arnaghad loathed anyone who imposed their will upon him, the Order and it's codes especially. He led an attack on the Order proper, aided by fellow Witchers who respected his defiance towards authority. Once they were beaten back, these dissidents fled to the Amell mountain range to start the next Witcher school, the School of the Bear.

The School of the Bear is one of the most misunderstood schools of them all, owing to the first major lore drop about them being largely in-universe rumors and conjecture surrounding the school, and as such I may need to go more in depth. The two major misconceptions stemming from this is the rumor about their armor, which claims that they don't bother dodging like the other Witchers and instead take blows head on (generally a bad idea, according to Geralt in the books), and the rumor about them attacking most Witchers they meet.

I contacted Cody Pondsmith, who wrote a great deal of this lore, and he mentioned that Bears do often threaten or even fight other Witchers, but in a very Skellige way, only to ward off the other Witcher from contracts they want. The Bears just want to live lives where they aren't commanded by others, and were trained especially brutally, and so will fight for what contracts they want. However they will NEVER kill another Witcher, just draw first blood (outside of duels to decide who runs the school, which occasionally turn deadly. It's unknown if Arnaghad has ever lost these duels) and if that other Witcher stands up to the Bear, they'll let them have the contract and if they meet up and work together enough even maybe become a lifelong friend.

To quote Cody himself: "I like to think of the Witcher Order as a big family in which the Bear School is the blunt, no-nonsense brother. He can be prickly and a bit of a bully sometimes but he takes his job seriously and he can be a good drinking buddy if you get to know him. Not the friendliest of people but far from evil. If you stand up to him and show him you're not afraid of him, he'll respect you."

The other rumor is also an exaggeration. The Witcher TRPG mentions that the Bear armor was designed with flexibility in mind, and while they trained to take on weaker blows with their armor and "mastery of the Quen sign", they also trained how to move quickly in their armor if they needed to dodge a fatal blow. The Bears also still trained on the gauntlet and pendulum like the other schools. Cody Pondsmith also confirmed that the Bears are just as agile as the other Witchers.

The Bears' core philosophy is almost very Lambert like, viewing Witcher's work not as a duty, or knightly virtue, but as difficult, brutal work. The only reason they stick to this work is to do a job where no one else commands them and they're left in peace. They focus only on the practical aspects of their profession, and as such discourage their students from working together in training, since Witchers work alone. As Arnaghad said, "We pass through life alone, better get used to it!" As a result, Bears are very isolated, preferring their own company to that of other Witchers, and were encouraged to value their autonomy and self care above all else. The Bears' approach to teaching was embodied as "let them better themselves through practical, dangerous trials. Survival of the fittest", embodied by final trial, that involved climbing to the top of Mt. Gorgon and back, and any who died from the cold were left "as a sobering reminder of the dangers of their trade". This resulted in the students of the school seeing things in a very callous, survival of the fittest way. Be as strong as you can, and let the perils of Witcher training and life pick off those who can't keep up. As a result, the Bears were by far the smallest Witcher school.

Despite this, the TRPG has a list of random early training events Witchers from all schools can have, and Bears could sometimes make friends amongst their fellow witchers in training just like members of every other school.

Once the new Bear students left their keep of Haern Caduch, most wouldn't return to winter there, unlike the other schools. They developed a reputation as being terrible to fight, and for being firebrands, often speaking very bluntly and quick to anger no matter who they spoke to, authority included. One such Witcher, named Gerd, was asked by a Duchess to help kill her father. He insulted her so badly he got a warrant for his death placed on him, though all the peasants he met spoke rather highly of him. As a result, Bears found it easiest to make friends amongst the similarly minded Dwarves and Gnomes of the Amell mountains, and people of the Skellige Isles. According to Cody Pondsmith, this is the main reason the Bears stayed together as a group at all. They valued autonomy above all else and so long as they functioned as a Witcher school, they were left alone and no rulers would try and command them. They also largely take their ideals of free will and apply it to others, never seeking to rule over others. They simply wish to live their lives free.

One of the original Witchers to side with Arnaghad, Ivar Evil-Eye, had extra mutations done to him by the Order of Witchers during his trial, allowing him to see into other worlds. In these visions he saw the Wild Hunt rampaging across them, conquering them. Ivar became obsessed with stopping them, and tried to kill Arnaghad to take command and lead the Bear school against the Hunt. This failed, so he and his supporters left to form the Viper School.

The Witchers of the Viper school, based in Gorthur Gvaed, were said to be the most secretive, taking contracts as both assassins and witchers. They at first dedicated themselves finding a way to stop the Wild Hunt, amassing a massive library on the subject. Fighting with an unpredictable, ambushed based variant of the Witcher fighting style, Viper Witchers employed poisons, brewed by skilled Viper alchemists, on both their swords, and a dagger in their offhand, their biggest deviation from typical Witcher combat techniques.

Vipers, for an unknown reason, eventually forgot their purpose. In his time, Letho of Gullet could only guess at why the school had been founded. Instead, they became famous for their skill at political killings, dealing with the nobility of the southern countries before Nilfgaard had even become a large-scale power.

Viper students had a different type of trial, after more grueling than typical training. Instead of any physical task like the other schools, the Viper students were given a pet at their induction to the school. And to graduate, they simply had to hunt it down and kill it, showing their lack of mercy.

While most of those who supported Ivar followed him to the Viper school, one group broke off and west east, across the Korath desert, to Zerikania, founding the School of the Manticore.

The School of the Manticore was founded by the Witcher Iwan, from the School of the Bear, following Ivar's assassination attempt on Arnaghad. They got work in the Korath desert as caravan guards, earning the attention of the Zerrikanian Queen after a deadly battle with a manticore. The Queen sponsored the Witchers of the Manticore, making them the only school to be officially backed by any government. They were experts on potions and anti-toxins, a necessity of dealing with the poisonous creatures of the Korath desert.

A unique adaptation to the monsters of the desert also had Manticore Witchers employ shields into the whirling combat of their Witcher training. Given their extra support, the Manticores held two keeps, Behelt Nar and Bailsuf Alsarea, on opposite sides of the desert, so that they might better patrol and guard those within it.

The Manticore is the final school to come from the schism Arnaghad had led. The other voices of dissent against the ideals of the Order would soon hear of these new schools and decide to break off as well to form the School of the Cat.

The School of the Cat was founded out of a response to the hatred and distrust Witchers received. They desired to be seen in a better, more respectful light. Ironically, they would end up doing the opposite. The Cat School stole away with several of the mutagens needed to make more Witchers and headed to Ebbing, and Stygga Citadel, where they would begin to experiment on human-elf children in an attempt to perfect the mutations. Its possible that the mages at this time furthered experiments on making women Witchers, but this is not confirmed yet.

Attempting to make a name for themselves, the Cats hired themselves out as spies, assassins, and mercenaries, genuinely earning them some respect from common folk for killing bandits.

In their attempts to perfect the mutations and further dull the emotions of their Witchers, the Cat school experimented harshly on a group of children that resulted in the opposite, giving these Witchers hightened emotional responses instead. These students, cast aside and left for dead, fled into the arms of a group of elves, who agreed to support them if this branch of the Cat School supported the elves' fight for freedom.

This branch, led by Gezras of Leyda, attached itself to the Dyn Marv caravan and traveled the continent, lending their services mostly to those nonhumans who could pay, while the main Cats at Stygga ended up getting assaulted by angry royals incited by their political maneuvering. This left the Dyn Marv branch as the only functional element of the School of the Cat. These Cats would train students' agility in a light, fast Elven take on Witcher fighting style, and would train their balance by making students walk a tightrope, starting low to the ground at first, but getting higher and higher each attempt.

The Cat school's breaking of Witcher neutrality and reputation for bloodlust earned Witchers such a bad name that those in the Order who most cherished their old swordmaster's knightly virtues would leave to form the School of the Griffin.

The School of the Griffin, led by Erland of Larvik, wished to truly achieve the dream of the original Order, and Gryphon, the Order's sword instructor. They traveled north to Kaer y Saren, an old fortress the Order once used, and cleansed it of the spirits of those who died in the first Witcher mutations. From there, they began a Witcher school focused on respectability and honor, believing in their knightly duties. And it worked, somewhat. The Griffins were sometimes advisors to nobility, and seen as honorable, but the prejudice against Witchers would never leave, and most would never see a Griffin Witcher as anything more than a monster playing at being a knight.

These Witchers tried their best to cushion their students against the pain of their lives on the Witcher's path, and were more brotherly than the other schools, though their knightly virtues and brotherhood were oftentimes cold comfort to Griffin students.

From the Witcher TRPG Sourcebook:

"Witcher I knew couldn’t really remember much ‘bout his past. Heh, too young to really form a lotta memories when they took him to Kaer Y Seren. Told me that the memory he did have made the mutations easier. Poor bastard clung to a memory of his pa takin’ him on a horse for a ride in the fields. Don’t know why he chose that one. Probably the only normal memory he had."

The Griffins amassed a huge library of magical knowledge, though they could only push sign magic so far, and the books were likely wasted being in a Witcher library. The library held several incredibly famous tomes on magic within, and was the envy of full mages across the Northern Realms. Despite all their efforts, they never could achieve their goal of bringing about the Order of Witcher's vision. The Griffins even had their own breaches of Witcher tradition in pursuit of their knightly heroics. An often said mantra of the Griffin school in Gwent is "To slay dragons! Tis our knightly duty!" despite dragons being largely innocent, intelligent beings who mostly wish to be left in peace.

Code Pondsmith had this to say about the Griffins:

"The Griffins stuck to the knightly traditions that the original witcher order tried to uphold. As a result it's safe to say that the Griffin school taught that monsters were the enemy of mankind and must be defeated. I don't think they would all be blindly overzealous but they wouldn't have any qualms about slaying sapient monsters if they believed it was for the good of mankind. Similarly, it's likely that they would side with humans in any conflict between monsters and humans. In a way, the Griffins' knightly virtues made them easier to manipulate than the other witcher schools. They were bound to protect humanity and thus were more likely to be convinced to hunt a monster if a local noble or alderman claimed it would be for the good of the people. This is the case with the dragons. The kingdoms and jewelers guilds of the North convinced the Griffin School that dragons were a blight upon humanity and the Griffins started slaying dragons regardless of whether all of the dragons they slew deserved it. Additionally, the knightly values might make Griffin school witchers more likely to take pity on desperate humans and work for free."

Those few Witchers remaining in the Order by now traveled to northern Kaedwyn, and started a school based on their tempered, traditionalist, and realistic view on the Order's goals. They based themselves in Kaer Morhen and dubbed themselves the School of the Wolf.

The School of the Wolf is the most famous Witcher school, known for their professionalism and efficiency. They don't kill humans like the Viper or Cat. Aren't bold or brash like the Bear, or put Knightly virtues above Witcher ideals like the Griffin. I mean, anyone reading far this knows who the Wolf Witchers are, so I'm not going to get into to much detail. They're Geralt's school. Ciri's school. While the Griffins school wasted it's energy on trying to be what Witchers were supposed to be, the Wolf set its goals on being the best they realistically could be.

They took a balanced approached to Witcher life and as such trained Witchers who were the best adjusted out of the schools, with neither the Bear's harshness nor the Griffin's egocentrism. They perfected the Witcher's style of combat, refining their swordsmanship into an incredibly graceful dance. Combined with their professional attitude and teachings that allowed Wolf Witchers to adapt very well to most situations thrown at them, Wolf Witchers were lauded all across the Continent.

With all Schools formed, the Golden Age of Witchers began, at first with the Bears and Griffins making peace. From Erland of Larvik's Journal (The TRPG's monster manual):

"Surprisingly enough the fracturing of the witcher order had lead to a more effective organization for us witchers. Spread across the Continent and each making more witchers independently, it was no longer the task of 60 or 70 witchers to patrol the entire Continent from Nilfgaard to Kovir. Each school patrolled their own path and when a Gryphon met with a Bear each knew they had their territory and any infighting wouldn’t be worth the bloodshed. We managed to broker peace and live as somewhat estranged brothers rather than bitter enemies"

Witchers at this time were seen largely as heroes, with their detractors' voices largely simmering underneath. With Witchers around to kill monsters, people felt safe and so ignored any misgivings they might have.

Witchers, no matter the school, aren't too dissimilar from each other, and so the Cintinent at large formed an overall opinion of the Witchers based on the traits they all shared. From the TRPG:

"In the heyday of witchers there were many many seperate schools, which all mutated new witchers and taught them the neccesary skills to hunt monsters and lift curses. While it’s generally agreed that there is a core set of skills required to a be a witcher, each school taught its students differently and focused on different aspects of witcher training. Thus, witchers from different schools often act differently and go about their jobs in similar but varied ways."

During this period, the Schools all would produce hundreds of Witchers (though at any given time, most schools had about 20 Witchers running the school, a handful of novices undergoing the trials, and around 30-50 Witchers on the path hunting monsters. This fluctuated from school to school. The Bear's brutal training resulted in the lowest number of Witchers amongst the schools, while the Wolves' prolific status and high success rates meant they took in more candidates and had more Witchers than the other schools), and each was their own person, With their own preferences and personality, despite the schools themselves having reputations for Witchers with only a few certain traits. For instance, the Bear Witcher Ivo of Belhaven fought like a Viper or Cat Witcher, but in personality was a perfect fit for the Bear School with how standoffish he could be. The schools kept to their own territory at first, but as time went on and contracts got ever more rare, these already thin lines fell apart and the schools stopped caring much about territories.

They also all customized their gear in different ways, usually keeping their gear in similar fashion to their school's, as its what they trained in an were used to. For example, Bear Witcher Junod of Belhaven wore what appears to be a set of Wolf School armor he had modified to fit Bear Witcher style.

Witchers also at this time experimented with signs. The Griffins obviously focused on making them more powerful, and the Bears pushed Quen to a level beyond any other school. But the most interesting case is that of Warrit, a blind Viper Witcher who used the lesser known Suppire sign as a form of echolocation.

The Golden age lasted for around 150-200 years or so, ending around 1160 when the monster populations had been hunted down enough that people's main concern stopped being the monsters, and became the Witchers themselves.

The Griffin School, refusing to share the knowledge of its library, was destroyed by jealous mages. A group of peasants and mages attacked the Wolves' keep out of nowhere. The Bears failed to destroy a powerful cabal of vampires and, when peasants rioted and came for their keep, chose to disband rather than engage in needless slaughter. The Cat's keep of Stygga is destroyed, but the Dyn Marv chapter may still be alive and well. The Manticore School failed to protect an important prince from a fire elemental, and so lost their funding and closed. The Viper refused to support the Nilfgaardian usurper and were destroyed.

If you've made it this far, holy shit, thank you! I hope you have a great day!

[deepfrost-citadel]

"You know," Xisuma said, peering cautiously over Cub's shoulder at the museum's latest addition, "When you said you wanted to show me a new exhibit, I wasn't expecting…" He trailed off.

Evil Xisuma glowered at him from inside their enclosure.

"…This."

To say Evil X looked a little miffed about the situation would be an understatement. At least Cub had done a nice job decorating, Xisuma thought, between the blackstone and crimson wood, Evil X looked right at home - if they weren't sitting grumpily in their 2-by-1 lava pool, surrounded by the mangled remains of whatever Cub had put in there for enrichment.

"Surprise!" Cub grinned, doing jazz hands at the enclosure, "I know what you might be thinking-"

Xisuma doubted that somehow.

"- 'Cub, Evil Xisuma hasn't done anything this season! They aren't a historic artefact! They shouldn't be in a museum!' But!" Cub wagged a finger triumphantly, "They are important to the history of Hermitcraft as a whole. So really, if you think about it, they definitely belong in a museum."

"… Okay?"

"Glad we're on the same page."

Xisuma wasn't sure if anyone was ever on the same page as Cub. Except maybe Scar.

"Now! As you can see, I've been decorating their enclosure, trying to add some interactive elements for guests and such." Cub pointed towards a line of redstone lamps at the top of Evil Xisuma's enclosure, "These show you how much electricity they're generating when they do their lightning hands thing. I'll be honest with you, it's broken a few times already so it's still a work in progress-"

"… Is that what all the lightning rods are for?" Xisuma frowned, eyeing the entirely lightning rod-ed ceiling.

"It is indeed!" Cub said, ignoring the twinge of concern in Xisuma's voice, "Well, a little. Mostly it's a safety thing, it wouldn't be good to have guests being electrocuted, now would it?"

"I suppose not… And it definitely works?"

"Oh yeah, it's been very thoroughly tested. Hey, Evil Xisuma," Cub walked up to the glass and tapped on it a few times, much to Xisuma's silent horror, "Wanna show X how the lightning rods work?"

In response, Evil Xisuma stuck their middle finger up at him and yelled something muffled to almost inaudibility that sounded a little like: "When I get out of here, I'm going to rip your head off and use it as a coffee mug, you stupid e-boy twink."

The pair on the other side of the glass blinked.

"… That's a no then." Cub turned back to Xisuma, "They do this a lot."

"They certainly do," Xisuma nodded faintly.

"You can probably tell the glass is uh... Mostly noise-cancelling, had to install that because Helsknight is in the next enclosure over and he's still hibernating. You know how Wels gets when you wake him up early, don't wanna find out how that guy is."

"… Of course," Xisuma sighed, pinching the nose bridge of his helmet, "Do I want to know how you got hold of those two?"

Cub laughed in the slightly unhinged way that gave Xisuma visions of Cub spending several weeks toying with the evil hermits as he hunted them for sport, "Nah man, it's not an interesting story."

Somehow, Xisuma doubted that.

"Anyway," Cub said, changing the topic before Xisuma could ask if he knew there was still someone's blood on his left sleeve, "What I really called you for is that I need an Evil Xisuma expert, and you're the man to ask about all things Evil Xisuma."

"Except for Evil Xisuma."

"Except for Evil Xisuma, yes." Cub nodded sagely, "So. Obviously I wanna make sure everything is nice for our new residents, give them plenty of enrichment and all that, but it hasn't been working out so far."

"I can see that."

"Soo… Any suggestions? What kind of thing does Evil X like? Food? Blocks? I dunno, fake derpcoin or something?"

Xisuma hummed, tilting his head in thought as he gazed at Evil Xisuma, who had clambered out of the lava pool to press their hands against the glass and give Xisuma the saddest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes their LED screen could muster (which, admittedly, were very sad and pathetic) in a silent plea to not leave them here with that madman, they'll be good for realsies this time they promise-

"Well," Xisuma said, turning to Cub, "They like to knit, so maybe they'd like some wool… Oh! And if you can find any old Wormman merch, they'll love that too."

Evil Xisuma's head hit the glass with a despairing thunk.

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Little Dove

Quinn Hughes X Pregnant! Reader

a;n it took me forever to finish this chapter, but I think I'm finally back in my groove. I can't wait for you guys to read I've been so excited to put out more fics.

Warnings: pregnancy, arguing, toxic family, suggestive wording lol, anxiety

masterlist link / previous chapters

summary: Y/N's world is turned upside down when she suspects she might be pregnant. Consumed by fear and uncertainty, she takes a pregnancy test but can't bring herself to face the result. She throws the test away and seeks solace in a hot shower, trying to escape the relentless thoughts plaguing her mind.

word count - 4629

...

Y/N stood before the imposing black door, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to gather the courage to face what lay beyond the wooden door. The sleek, polished surface seemed to mock her, its very presence a reminder of the power her parents held over her life.

The stone wall surrounding the entrance loomed above her, casting long shadows that seemed to reach out and grab at her, pulling her towards the inevitable confrontation.

She inhaled deeply, the cool evening air filling her lungs and doing little to calm the storm of emotions that raged within her. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to turn around, to run back to the safety of the car and drive away, leaving behind the suffocating expectations and demands of her family.

With a trembling hand, Y/N reached out and grasped the golden handle, the cold metal biting into her palm. The sensation was almost a relief, a sharp contrast to the burning anxiety that coursed through her veins. She squeezed the handle tightly, as if the physical act could somehow give her the strength she so desperately needed.

"Come on," Quinn urged softly, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. She felt the warmth of his hand on her back, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor her in the midst of her thoughts. His touch sent shivers down her spine, a reminder of the love and support that he offered her unconditionally.

At her silence, Quinn pressed harder, his fingers kneading the tense muscles of her back. "It won't go as bad as you think it will. I'll be with you the whole time, honey."

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to draw strength from his words. But the unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach refused to be silenced. "I know, Quinn," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart.

"It's just... I have a really bad feeling right now. They've never wanted to meet any of my boyfriends, let alone invite them for family dinner. Something about it feels so wrong."

Quinn's hands continued to move along her back, his touch a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. "How about this," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "How ‘bout we play perfect couple with your parents, and then after all of our pain and suffering, we head back home, and I give you one of the Quinn special massages.”

As he spoke, Quinn's hands inched higher, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her spine before coming to rest on the smooth skin of her shoulders. Y/N couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he massaged a particularly tense spot, the sensation causing her head to fall back against his shoulder. “You can relax and let me take care of things."

"Sound good?" Quinn asked, his voice low and full of promise.

Y/N allowed herself a small smile, the first genuine one she'd felt all evening. "That sounds amazing," she breathed, her body already beginning to relax under his expert touch.

Quinn pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. "Let's go before they get suspicious, hmm?"

With a final squeeze of her hand, Quinn stepped forward and rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night. Y/N took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and preparing herself for the awkward silence and judgmental stares. She knew that with Quinn by her side, she could face anything her parents threw at her.

As Quinn gently pushed Y/N forward, taking the lead and opening the door, they were greeted by an eerie silence that seemed to permeate the house. The absence of voices, the usual bustle of family life, was unnerving, and Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the high-pitched, excited barking of the family dog, Cinnamon.

From the shadows, a blur of fur came charging towards them, a ball of energy and enthusiasm that seemed to light up the dimly lit entrance. Y/N couldn't help but let out a squeal of delight as she knelt down, her arms outstretched to catch the wriggling bundle of joy.

"Hi, Cinnamon baby," she cooed, her voice filled with affection as the small dog eagerly licked at her face, its tail wagging furiously. For a moment, all of Y/N's worries and fears melted away, replaced by the pure, unconditional love that radiated from the tiny creature in her arms.

Quinn watched the scene with a smile, his heart warming at the sight of Y/N's happiness. Her laughter, so rare in the face of her family's expectations, was like music to his ears. He chuckled softly as Cinnamon hopped off Y/N's lap and made a beeline for his own legs, her tiny paws clawing at the fabric of his neatly pressed suit pants.

"Hello there," Quinn said, his voice soft and gentle as he leaned down to pat the dog's head. Cinnamon's fur was soft beneath his fingers, and he marveled at the way such a small creature could bring so much joy and comfort to those around it.

But the moment of levity was short-lived, as a voice suddenly spoke from the opposite side of the room, shattering the brief respite from the tension that hung heavy in the air.

"Sorry for the interruption, Miss Y/N," the voice said, its tone formal and detached. "Your parents are ready for you. Please follow me."

Y/N felt her stomach drop at the words, the bitterness and unease settling back into her stomach. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and filled with a silent plea for strength. He gave her a reassuring nod, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Together, they followed the worker, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. There was something ominous in the air, a sense of foreboding that seemed to grow with every step they took. But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth of Quinn's hand in hers, the strength that flowed between them.

…

Y/N stepped through the sliding door, her heart racing with anticipation and nervousness, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her mother rising from her seat at the table.

Dedra's movements were graceful and measured, her posture perfect and her expression carefully composed. Y/N could feel her father's piercing gaze on her and Quinn, his eyes narrowing as he silently assessed the young man by her side.

Despite the palpable tension in the room, Quinn maintained a charming smile, his demeanor confident and unflappable. He strode towards Derek's seat at the head of the table, his hand outstretched in a gesture of greeting. "Mr. L/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, his voice smooth and polished. "I've heard so much about you."

Derek regarded Quinn for a moment, his expression unreadable, before accepting the handshake with a firm grip. "Quinn," he acknowledged, his tone cool and measured. "Welcome to our home."

Y/N quickly guided Quinn to the seat beside her, her fingers lacing with his under the table in a silent show of support. She could feel the weight of her parents' scrutiny, the unspoken questions and judgments hanging heavy in the air.

Dedra, ever the perfect hostess, smiled warmly at the assembled group, her face a mask of polite interest. "Let's begin, shall we?" she said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, a team of immaculately dressed servers emerged from the kitchen, bearing trays laden with an array of sumptuous dishes.

As the servers efficiently set the table, Dedra settled back into her seat, her dress clinging to her figure like a second skin. The chandelier above cast a dazzling light across the room, its crystals refracting and casting shimmering patterns on the walls.

Y/N couldn't help but marvel at her mother's impeccable appearance, the way she seemed to effortlessly command attention and admiration.

But the illusion of perfection was shattered a moment later, as Dedra fixed Y/N with a critical gaze, her lips curving into a small, condescending smile. "Well, you've gotten fat," she remarked, her voice dripping with false concern as she raised a delicate flute of champagne to her lips.

"You know, the past few weeks, your cheeks have seemed to get chubbier. Are you skipping out on that yoga class I recommended?"

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach twisting with a mixture of shock and humiliation. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for his support. Quinn's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he fought to maintain his composure.

Clearing her throat, Y/N forced a smile onto her face, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, "I've been focusing on my career, Mom. The yoga class hasn't been a top priority."

Dedra tutted softly, shaking her head in disapproval. "Darling, you know how important it is to maintain your appearance. You don't want to let yourself go, do you? What will people think?"

Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could feel Quinn's hand tighten around hers, a silent promise of support and protection. But even his comforting presence couldn't erase the sting of her mother's words, the way they cut straight to the heart of her deepest insecurities.

…

As the servers cleared away the first course, Derek turned his attention to Quinn, his eyes narrowing slightly as he appraised the young man. "So, Quinn," he began, his voice deceptively casual, "I hear you're a hockey player. For the Vancouver Canucks, is that right?"

Quinn nodded, his expression confident and self-assured. "Yes, sir. I've been with the team for a few years now. It's been an incredible experience, both on and off the ice."

Derek leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "And what exactly do you do for the team? Are you a starter, or do you mostly warm the bench?"

Y/N bristled at her father's tone, the barely concealed disdain dripping from his words. But Quinn seemed unfazed, his smile never wavering as he replied, "I'm a forward, sir. I play on the first line and contribute regularly to the team's success."

Dedra chimed in, her voice saccharine sweet. "That must keep you very busy, Quinn. Do you have any time for hobbies or interests outside of hockey?"

Quinn chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course. I believe in maintaining a balanced lifestyle. When I'm not on the ice or training, I enjoy volunteering at local youth centers, mentoring kids who come from tough backgrounds. I also have a passion for photography and love exploring the city with my camera."

Y/N felt a swell of pride at Quinn's words, the way he spoke with such conviction and sincerity. She knew how much his volunteer work meant to him, how he used his platform as a professional athlete to make a real difference in the lives of others.

But her father seemed unimpressed, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. "Photography and volunteering? How... quaint. And I suppose these activities are what brought you and Y/N together?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her palms growing clammy as she anticipated Quinn's response. They had agreed to keep the details of their relationship private, to avoid giving her parents any ammunition to use against them.

Quinn, however, remained unruffled. "Actually, sir, Y/N and I met through a mutual friend. We connected over our shared love of art and culture, and things progressed naturally from there. We've been seeing each other for almost a year now, and I can honestly say that she's one of the most incredible women I've ever met."

Y/N's cheeks flushed at Quinn's words, a warm glow spreading through her chest. But her happiness was short-lived, as her father's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger.

"A few months?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "And you didn't think to inform us of this development, Y/N? Your mother and I have a right to know about the people you associate with, especially when they're..." he trailed off, his lip curling in distaste as he glanced at Quinn.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She opened her mouth to respond, to defend herself and Quinn, but the words stuck in her throat, trapped behind the lump of fear and anxiety.

Quinn, sensing her distress, reached under the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent show of support. "With all due respect, sir," he said, his voice calm and measured.

"Y/N is an adult, capable of making her own decisions. Our relationship is built on mutual trust, respect, and love. I understand your concerns as her parents, but I assure you that my intentions towards your daughter are nothing but honorable."

Derek scoffed, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. "Honorable intentions? From a professional athlete? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations and barely contained hostility. Y/N's hands clenched into fists beneath the table, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain the rage that boiled within her.

She had endured her father's snide comments and thinly veiled insults all evening, biting her tongue and forcing herself to maintain a facade of civility. But as Derek's words dripped with venom, his contempt for Quinn and their relationship laid bare, something inside her snapped.

"Enough!" she shouted, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I will not sit here and listen to you disrespect the man I love, the man who has shown me more kindness and support than you ever have!"

Derek's eyes widened in shock, his face reddening with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that, young lady? I am your father, and you will show me the respect I deserve!"

Y/N laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the room. "Respect? You want to talk about respect? Where was your respect when you belittled my dreams, when you dismissed my accomplishments as nothing more than frivolous whims? Where was your respect when you tried to control every aspect of my life, molding me into your perfect little puppet?"

Dedra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of feigned shock. "Y/N, please, let's not do this here. We have a guest."

Y/N's gaze snapped to her mother, her eyes blazing with a fury that bordered on hatred. "Oh, spare me the theatrics, Mother. You're just as bad as he is, always pushing me to fit into your narrow little world, to be the perfect daughter you can parade around like a goddamn show pony."

Quinn reached for Y/N's hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Y/N, baby, it's okay. We don't have to do this."

But Y/N shook her head, her jaw set with determination. "No, Quinn, it's not okay. I'm done letting them dictate my life, done letting them treat me like some kind of possession they can control."

Derek slammed his hand down on the table, the dishes rattling with the force of his anger. "That's enough, Y/N! I will not tolerate this kind of disrespect in my own home. If you insist on continuing this relationship with this... this hockey player, then you can consider yourself cut off. No more trust fund, no more fancy apartment, no more cushy job at the family company. You'll have to live off your precious Quinn's salary and see how far that gets you."

Y/N stared at her father in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always known that her parents' love was conditional, that their support came with strings attached. But to hear it laid out so plainly, to know that they would cast her aside so easily, was a blow that left her reeling.

Slowly, she rose from her chair, her legs trembling beneath her. "Fine," she said, her voice low and steely. "Cut me off. Disown me. Do whatever the fuck you want. But know this: I will never, ever forgive you for this. You may be my parents by blood, but you are not my family. Quinn is my family, and I choose him, now and always."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Quinn followed close behind, his hand resting on the small of her back.

they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N let out a shuddering breath, her entire body shaking with the force of her emotions. Quinn pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt.

"I've got you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "I've always got you. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You and me against the world, remember?"

…

Y/N stood motionless in the bathroom, the white tile floor cold and unyielding beneath her bare feet. The room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where she could escape the chaotic thoughts that swirled through her mind like a relentless whirlwind.

The pale blue walls, once a source of calm and tranquility, now felt oppressive, as if they were closing in on her, trapping her in a prison of her own making.

The air was thick with the scent of lavender and vanilla, the candles she had lit earlier in a futile attempt to soothe her frayed nerves. But even the familiar, comforting aroma couldn't ease the tension that coiled within her, the knots of anxiety that twisted her stomach and made her heart race with a sickening pace.

Her gaze was drawn to the vanity, its white marble surface cluttered with the detritus of her daily life. Makeup brushes and half-empty bottles of lotion jostled for space with hair ties and stray earrings, a chaotic jumble that mirrored the turmoil within her own mind.

And there, amidst the disorder, sat the small, unassuming box that held the key to her fate, the answer to the question that had haunted her for weeks.

With hands that trembled like leaves in a storm, Y/N reached for the box, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as she tore at the plastic wrap. The pregnancy test felt heavy in her palm, a tiny stick of plastic that held the power to change her life forever. She stared at it for a long moment, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to summon the courage to take the next step.

y/n had bought the pregnancy test on a whim, a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind that refused to be silenced. She had always taken pride in her appearance, in the way she maintained her figure through rigorous exercise and a carefully controlled diet. But lately, no matter how much she pushed herself at the gym or how little she ate, the numbers on the scale continued to climb.

She thought back to the dinner with her parents, to the cruel words her mother had hurled at her like poisoned darts. Fat. Lazy. Worthless. The insults had cut deep, leaving invisible scars that ached with every breath. And now, with each passing day, those scars seemed to grow, festering like open wounds that refused to heal.

And then there were the other symptoms, the ones she had tried so hard to ignore. The sudden bouts of tearfulness that overtook her at the most inconvenient moments, leaving her sobbing in the grocery store aisle or curled up on the couch in the middle of the day. The strange cravings that hit her out of nowhere, leaving her ravenous for foods she had never even liked before.

With a deep breath, Y/N tore open the box, her hands shaking as she removed the small, plastic stick from its packaging. She read the instructions carefully, her heart pounding in her chest as she followed the steps, her mind racing with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.

Y/N's mind raced with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. What if she was pregnant? What would Quinn say? Would he be happy, or would he see it as a burden, a trap that would tie him down and ruin his promising career? And what about her own dreams, the hopes and aspirations she had clung to like a lifeline in the face of her family's suffocating expectations?

She felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over her, and she gripped the edge of the vanity for support, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grasp.

The room seemed to spin around her, the walls and floor blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and light. She closed her eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths as she tried to regain her composure.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N opened her eyes, her gaze falling once more on the pregnancy test that lay on the counter, its display window facing downward. She knew that she couldn't put it off any longer, that she had to face the truth, no matter how painful it might be. With a trembling hand, she reached for the test, her heart pounding in her ears like a drum.

But at the last moment, she faltered, her courage failing her. Instead of looking at the result, she tossed the test into the trash can, burying it beneath a pile of crumpled tissues and discarded cotton balls. She couldn't bear to see the truth, couldn't face the reality of what it might mean for her future.

The sound of the shower called to her then, the steam billowing out from behind the glass doors like a siren's song. Y/N stripped off her clothes mechanically, her mind numb with fear and confusion. As she stepped under the spray, the hot water hit her skin like a thousand tiny needles, the pain a welcome distraction from the chaos that raged within her.

She let the water wash over her, her eyes closed as she tried to lose herself in the sensation. The heat seeped into her bones, melting away the tension that had coiled within her like a snake ready to strike. She breathed in the damp, misty air, the scent of her lavender shampoo mingling with the steam in a heady, intoxicating aroma.

Behind her, the pregnancy test lay abandoned in the trash can, its display window hidden from view. Y/N had thrown it away without even looking at the result, too afraid of what it might reveal. She knew that she would have to face the truth eventually, that she couldn't hide from reality forever.  

in this moment, alone in the bathroom with nothing but the sound of the water and the pounding of her own heart, Y/N allowed herself to be still, to exist in a world where the future was still unwritten, and anything was possible.

She clung to that fleeting sense of peace like a drowning woman clinging to a life raft, knowing that it was all she had left to keep her afloat in the stormy seas of her own mind.

…

Quinn turned the key in the lock, the soft click echoing through the stillness of the house. He pushed the door open, the familiar scent of home washing over him like a comforting balm. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlamps outside the windows.

He set his bag down by the door, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor breaking the silence. His shoes came off next, the laces loosened and the soles kicked off with a careless ease. He padded across the carpet in his socks, his footsteps muffled by the thick, plush fibers.

The house was quiet, almost eerily so. Quinn listened for any sign of Y/N, any hint of her presence, but he was met with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of a car passing by on the street outside. He wasn't surprised by the silence, given the late hour of his arrival. Y/N was likely already in bed, lost in the sweet oblivion of sleep.

Quinn made his way down the hallway, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The bathroom door was ajar, the soft glow of the nightlight spilling out into the darkness. He pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly as he stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the damp carpet beneath his feet, the fibers squishing slightly with each step. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Y/N's characteristic forgetfulness. She always seemed to leave a trail of water behind her after her showers, a small quirk that he found strangely endearing.

Quinn reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The cool air of the bathroom hit his bare skin, sending a slight shiver down his spine. He tossed the shirt into the hamper, the fabric landing with a soft thud amidst the pile of dirty clothes.

He turned on the shower, the water sputtering to life and filling the room with a soft, steady hiss. As he waited for the water to heat up, Quinn's gaze drifted around the small space, taking in the familiar surroundings.

The white tile gleamed in the soft light, the grout lines perfectly straight and clean. The mirror above the sink was slightly fogged, the edges blurred with condensation.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, Quinn caught a glint of something shiny, a flash of light that seemed out of place in the muted tones of the bathroom. He furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued by the strange reflection.

He scanned the room, his eyes searching for the source of the light. And then he saw it, a small, foil-wrapped object nestled in the bottom of the trash can. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden sense of unease washing over him like a cold wave.

Quinn crept closer to the trash can, his steps slow and cautious. He peered down into the empty bin, his eyes widening as he recognized the shape of the object within. It was a pregnancy test, the plastic stick lying stark and white against the dark plastic of the can.

With trembling fingers, Quinn reached into the trash, grasping the test by its hilt. He lifted it out of the can, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned it over, the display window facing upward.

The moment of truth, the answer to the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since he had noticed Y/N's strange behavior over the past few weeks. The late-night tears, the unexplained mood swings, the way she seemed to retreat into herself, lost in a world of her own thoughts and fears.

Quinn stared at the test, his eyes tracing the lines that appeared in the small window. And then, with a sudden, sickening clarity, he saw it. Two lines, bold and unmistakable against the white background.

Positive. Y/N was pregnant.

Quinn felt the world tilt beneath his feet, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just discovered. He leaned against the sink, his knuckles white as he gripped the cool porcelain. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his lungs burning with the effort of drawing in air.

…

Tag List <3

@ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs, @hischierswhore, @alwaysclassyeagle, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691, @fulla02, @njdkatie, @dancerbailey3. @jamieeboulos, @ceces-obsessions

[lexirosewrites]

okay i don't think i've sent anything for slick sunday yet so here i am. i had a very busy week (homecoming week at the daycare i work at) but i wanted to throw in a little something that i've been thinking about lately. i'm once again back with the super long posts that 100% have not been proofread at all but what else could you expect from me at this point.

i think we can all pretty much agree that it's very likely steve and eddie would lasting effects from the upside down. i wanna throw in some omegaverse steddie with those effects. i'm leaning the most toward alpha!eddie who has chronic pain, some days needing to use a cane to walk, and omega!steve with a seizure disorder (my small amount of research on this focused on epilepsy the most, so let's go with that one)

quick warning for mpreg and discussions of medical stuff that may be very inaccurate bc despite reading 3 separate medical articles on the topic, i am definitely not an expert.

they want a pup so badly. they're desperate to be parents. but it's terrifying. with steve's seizures, and eddie's near constant pain, they don't think it's going to be possible. it's too dangerous. steve's on medication for his seizures, and they know it can affect his chances of getting pregnant, and even have affects on the baby if he did. plus, steve is so worried about his seizures may hurt the baby.

i think, to everyone's surprise, nancy is the one to say something first. as a journalist, she does a lot of research, and she's good at it. she knows how much steve wants a family, has seen how he and eddie look at passing families while they're out and about. so, she goes digging. she reads articles and talks to doctors and neurologists and anyone else she could find that would have any level of knowledge on the subject. she's got research, and the sources to back it all up.

steve and eddie definitely hadn't expected to find nancy wheeler knocking on their front door, a pretty thick binder in her hands. they're even more surprised when she starts spouting off that they can have kids, and it can be perfectly safe to do so. she walks into their apartment and sits on the couch, slamming her binder on the coffee table for the dramatics of it before opening it up. she's listing off all her sources, rambling about all of her research. eddie and steve can't do anything but listen, completely enraptured by the fact that nancy would go to all this trouble for them. and they say just that when she finally says her piece.

nancy gives them a look. "why wouldn't i? you're my friends. i care about you, and i want you to be happy."

nancy's research, and robin's encouragement, is all they need to bring it up to steve's doctor at his next appointment. they're told it won't be easy. steve will have to change his medication, and it may not be as effective. he'll have to be monitored extra carefully. there will be more appointments and tests. there's still risks. but they'll be careful. if it'll get them a baby, they'll do whatever it takes.

it takes a long time. they try for nearly a year, and steve does everything possible. he does everything the doctors tell him. they change his medication. he takes some time to get used to it. he takes vitamins, and tries every trick in the book to conceive. and then finally, he gets the second pink line.

obviously they're thrilled. this is everything they've wanted. steve is very quick to call his doctor after telling eddie. they get an appointment set to confirm it. from there, steve feels like he is constantly at a doctor's office. he has frequent check ups with both his OB and his neurologist. he's almost always somewhere for a check up or an ultrasound or another test or scan. it's never ending. but every single time, steve reminds himself that it'll be worth it. every appointment brings him closer to meeting his pup. this is what keeps him, and his pup, as safe as possible.

they definitely have a few scares. steve still has seizures, and every one is terrifying for eddie. he's so worried, all the time. he's not sleeping well, which only makes his chronic pain flare up worse. some days, he struggles to even get out of bed. steve does what he can to help eddie feel better. he does so much of the housework so that eddie doesn't have to worry about it. he lets eddie sleep in when he can. he tries so hard not to wake him when he gets up to pee or throw up in the middle of the night. which just makes eddie feel even worse, the further along the pregnancy gets. he hates that steve is doing so much work when he should be resting, hates that his body physically won't let him take these things off steve's plate.

there's a big scare really far along in steve's pregnancy. he's about 7 1/2 months along, and he has a really bad seizure. the worst one he's had the whole pregnancy. his stress levels had been so high, and he couldn't take the time to slow down when eddie was having one of his worst flare ups in a while, and then suddenly he was on the ground. he'd thought for sure something was wrong when he felt cramping only an hour later. they'd immediately called the doctor and headed for the er.

everything works out happy in the end, ending with a healthy baby born only two weeks early. they still have concerns (mainly eddie, but steve too) but they're happy. eventually, a couple of years down the line, they decide they want to try again. they never make it to steve's six little nuggets dream, but they do end up with three perfectly happy children who know nothing but love from their parents. the end.

happy slick sunday friends :)

i love them😭😭😭