#how do i undo everything i did before this year and start new?

[thymewayster]

Really good Twitter thread originally about Elon Musk and Twitter, but also applies to Netflix and a lot of other corporations.

Full thread. Text transcription under cut.

John Bull @garius

One of the things I occasionally get paid to do by companies/execs is to tell them why everything seemed to SUDDENLY go wrong, and subs/readers dropped like a stone. So, with everything going on at Twitter rn, time for a thread about the Trust Thermocline /1

So: what's a thermocline?

Well large bodies of water are made of layers of differing temperatures. Like a layer cake. The top bit is where all the the waves happen and has a gradually decreasing temperature. Then SUDDENLY there's a point where it gets super-cold.

That suddenly is important. There's reasons for it (Science!) but it's just a good metaphor. Indeed you may also be interested in the "Thermocline of Truth" which a project management term for how things on a RAG board all suddenly go from amber to red.

But I digress. The Trust Thermocline is something that, over (many) years of digital, I have seen both digital and regular content publishers hit time and time again. Despite warnings (at least when I've worked there). And it has a similar effect. You have lots of users then suddenly... nope. And this does effect print publications as much as trendy digital media companies. They'll be flying along making loads of money, with lots of users/readers, rolling out new products that get bought. Or events. Or Sub-brands.

And then SUDDENLY those people just abandon them. Often it's not even to "new" competitor products, but stuff they thought were already not a threat. Nor is there lots of obvious dissatisfaction reported from sales and marketing (other than general grumbling). Nor is it a general drift away, it's just a sudden big slide. So why does this happen? As I explain to these people and places, it's because they breached the Trust Thermocline.

I ask them if they'd been increasing prices. Changed service offerings. Modified the product.

The answer is normally: "yes, but not much. And everyone still paid" Then I ask if they did that the year before. Did they increase prices last year? Change the offering? Modify the product?

Again: "yes, but not much."

The answer is normally: "yes, but not much. And everyone still paid." "And the year before?"

"Yes but not much. And everyone still paid."

Well, you get the idea. And here is where the Trust Thermocline kicks in. Because too many people see service use as always following an arc. They think that as long as usage is ticking up, they can do what they like to cost and product.

And (critically) that they can just react when the curve flattens But with a lot of CONTENT products (inc social media) that's not actually how it works. Because it doesn't account for sunk-cost lock-in.

Users and readers will stick to what they know, and use, well beyond the point where they START to lose trust in it. And you won't see that. But they'll only MOVE when they hit the Trust Thermocline. The point where their lack of trust in the product to meet their needs, and the emotional investment they'd made in it, have finally been outweighed by the physical and emotional effort required to abandon it. At this point, I normally get asked something like:

"So if we undo the last few changes and drop the price, we get them back?"

And then I have to break the news that nope: that's not how it works.

Because you're past the Thermocline now. You can't make them trust you again.

[cherrychilli]

Caught

Happy New Year, everyone! Have some smut to celebrate.

Steve Harrington smut, AFAB Reader, secret relationship

Summary: Car sex with Steve turns awkward when you end up getting interrupted by one of Hawkins' finest.

A/N: Idk, I’ve just been obsessed with the idea of getting caught with Steve so I had to write this up quickly and get it out of my system.

Warnings: Minors DNI, NSFW, Dom Steve, degradation, dirty talk, P in V sex, unprotected sex (don’t do it), a mention of reckless driving (don’t y’all dare)

Characters are 18-19(referred to as ‘teens’ below)

Not proofread

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this fic! (I love reading all of your comments and feedback, it really makes my day <3 )

Wordcount: 1.6k

The whole thing might have been your fault.

You were the one who initiated the kiss that night, not moments after you insisted that Steve park his car at the isolated forest clearing off the main road. You were the one pawing at his shirt, gathering fistfuls of the material and hurriedly settling into his lap. And you were the one urging his hands on your body, slipping them underneath your dress to glide over your hot skin.

“Please, Steve? I want it now”, you whine petulantly against his neck, sucking rosy bruises into his skin before slanting your lips over his.

“Baby, I really should get you home before your dad knows you’re out”, he manages to let out the corner of his mouth between your heated kisses. He means to do the right thing and explain that this was too risky, but the way you’re grinding your core against his crotch does everything to make his resolve waver.

You’d been dating Steve in secret for a couple of months now and despite how happy and proud you were to call him your boyfriend, it just wasn’t time to introduce him to your family quite yet. Having a strict father meant that you had to be extra careful but you both found that the sneaking around had added to the overall excitement.

“Can’t go yet- need to have your cock inside me”, you mewl into his ear.

Steve groans back in response. He always found it impossible to counter when you started talking like this, all needy and unrestrained. Your skirt rides us your thighs and your panties grow wetter as you pull the top of your dress down to reveal your bare breasts underneath.

Steve takes a quick moment to stare, decidedly throwing caution to the wind at this point. “Shit- we’ll have to make this quick”, he mumbles, one hand hurrying to undo his belt while the other groped at your tits.

You’d been known as somewhat of a ‘good girl’ in town. Polite, did well in school, reliable, so on and so on. The kind of daughter that would make any parent proud. As much as you didn’t mind being labeled a ‘respectable young woman’, it did bore you madly at times. Sneaking around with Steve made you realize just how much you liked doing the kind of things you were always told ‘decent’ girls shouldn’t.

Things with Steve started out nice and slow. He was the perfect gentleman but the soft lingering touches and chaste kisses didn’t cut it after a while. Eventually you started lying, telling your father that you were helping out at the local volunteer center when you were really out with Steve, letting him touch you in ways no one else had before. The more you got to know each other, you discovered the kind of things you liked. Some of it came as a surprise, even to you. You liked it when he got firm with you. Some moderate manhandling was more than welcome like having his fingers wrapped around your throat as he kissed you or being bent over his lap, waiting to feel the sting of his hand coming down on your ass. As someone who’d often been described as proper and pristine, you knew it’d come as a shock to anyone who found out just how much you liked having Steve spit into your mouth or how much you enjoyed the feeling of having his cum warm your skin. Every time he’d finish on places like your thighs, belly, breasts or ass you’d go so far as to refuse letting him clean you up entirely, haphazardly pulling your pretty clothes back on and letting his release stain the material.

One of your favorites was when Steve got a little mean with his words. You liked it when he admonished you, reminding you just how far you’ve strayed from being the ‘good girl’ everyone thought you to be.

“Bad girl, lying to your poor father just so you can sneak off and let me fuck you”, he’d grunt into your ear as he had you bent over his kitchen counter, house all to yourselves with Mr. and Mrs. Harrington out of town again. “Probably still thinks you’re his sweet, innocent princess”, he’d taunt, spanking your ass and squeezing the tender flesh as he thrust into your dripping cunt. “He has no idea what a dirty slut his little girl’s turned into”.

You raise your hips when Steve gets his cock out of his jeans, pumping it a few times before pulling your panties to the side and lining up with your waiting entrance. Your nails press into his shoulders as you sink down his length, moaning as you take him right up to the base. “Fuck- Steve, you feel so good- please start moving”.

With one hand on your hip he begins to work you on his cock, thrusting up into you as he grunts out, “greedy little pussy you’ve got babe- didn’t I fuck you enough last night?”

“Need more- please Steve, need you to fill me up again”, you whine shamelessly.

Minutes pass and you’re bouncing on his cock in a frenzy now, mouth falling open in a sultry moan when you feel him nudging your cervix. “Please please- fuck! Yes- Daddy!”

A wolfish grin spreads across Steve’s face, cocking an eyebrow up as your tits bounce in his face. “Daddy, huh? Since when- “

You cut him off with a quick smack against his shoulder. “No no, Steve- Stop!”. He ceases thrusting to turn and look out through the rear window, following your panic-stricken gaze.

“Oh fuck…”

The both of you had been too preoccupied to notice the Hawkins Police Cruiser pull up just behind Steve’s car and an officer already walking over to the driver’s window.

There’s no time to separate, Steve grabs at your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and tucking your face into his shoulder. In the middle of the scramble, he manages to pull your skirt down over your ass and throw his jacket over your back to help shield you. He’s still inside you, you’re both painfully aware of that fact when the eventual tapping against his window comes. Your blood runs cold at the sound of an all too familiar voice filtering through the minute gap, gruff and so very imposing when Steve has no choice but to roll down the window,

“Alright, break it up and go home you two”

“Yup- right on it- sorry, Chief”, Steve grits out through clenched teeth in the most deferential tone he could muster even though the tension is causing your velvety walls to clamp around his cock.

“Get back to your separate homes”, Chief Jim Hopper clarifies in the same indifferent and bored tone. Years of Police work has made him all too accustomed to situations like this. His gaze idly scans the surrounding area because he doesn’t need to peer inside to know that it was Steve behind the wheel, having already recognized his car. Neither does he have to guess what had been going on inside based on the way the BMW had been rocking when he first pulled up. Not his first time dealing with a couple of horny teens messing around in places they shouldn’t.

“Take the girl straight home, Harrington, you got that? and don’t let me catch you out here again”

Steve’s eyes momentarily flick to the gun holstered at Hopper’s waist, swallowing hard before replying. “Sure thing Chief, but could you maybe give us a moment to uh- get decent?”

Hopper sighs, deep and long and tired. “Two minutes. I better see you driving out of here in two minutes” he warns sternly and with that he’s walking back to his cruiser and begins reversing back on to the main road.

Steve waits until the headlights grow dim in the distance before speaking.

“Wow, your dad’s never in a good mood, is he?”

You pry away from Steve to swat at his shoulder again.

“That was too close!- I really thought he might recognize me- he could have killed you! Both of us! and how the hell are you still hard?”, you mean for that last part to sound reproachful but your tone betrays you, awe clearly evident behind your words.

“Are you kidding me? You’re lucky I didn’t cum in you right in front of him with the way you were squeezing me”, he laughs.

You blush madly at the thought.

“Steve! That’s so…”

“Dirty?” he smirks back and you melt.

It’s maddening having him so deep inside of you, long, hard, thick and throbbing.

Maybe two minutes might just be enough?

You can tell that he’s thinking the same, inching closer to your face.

You both abandon the idea when you hear the sudden blaring of the cruiser’s horn sounding off from the main road, your last warning to hurry up and get out of there. You pull away quickly but reluctantly from Steve’s lap, clothing yourself in a hurry before ducking out of sight when you drive past your father’s cruiser.

Cautiously sitting back up when you see his car disappear in the rearview mirror, you can’t help but feel sorry for Steve when you eye his erection straining against his jeans. You want to make it up to him after being the one who wound him up in the first place.

“Steve, I’m sorry”

He smiles back at you softly, “don’t worry babe, let’s just get you back before he finds out you were gone, alright?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, wringing your hands in your lap as you watch trees whip past and contemplate for a few moments.

Your face suddenly lights up, confident that you’ve come up with the perfect solution to cap off your rocky night with Steve.

“How about I suck you off while you drive me back home?”, you purr, voice sugary and eager.

Steve nearly veers off the road when you say it, fingers tightening over the steering wheel as he tries not to cum in his pants.

You’re definitely not a good girl anymore.

[punkshort]

The Stranger

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: An unexpected visitor barges into your new apartment, turning your whole life upside down, then disappears just as quickly. Or does he?

Warnings: infidelity is mentioned (reader gets cheated on by OC), language, threats of violence, heavy making out and some sexy situations but no smut

WC: 3K

A/N: When I wrote this, I had still yet to see The Equalizer 2 but I wanted to write an assassin fic and Dave was just right there. So, for the sake of this story, Dave doesn't have a family and he has a cover job. K bye.

Written for @undercoverpena April Showers Challenge

Collection Masterlist

Sunday Night

The apartment was small and a little dirty, but it would do. It would have to. The choices were limited on such short notice, and beggars can't be choosers.

The last thing you thought you would be doing the night before you started your new job was unpacking what little belongings you had in the middle of a goddamn thunderstorm. In an ideal world, you would have waited to move in when the weather was expected to clear, but when you walked in on your boyfriend of four years naked in your bed with his ex-girlfriend only a week ago, you would have moved in the middle of a blizzard if you had to.

That was how you found yourself late Sunday night drenched in a mix of your own sweat and rain, unpacking the last of your clothes from wet cardboard boxes. Making your bedroom the priority was a must. The last thing you needed on top of everything else was wrinkled clothes and a bad night's sleep for your first day of work.

If only you knew what your night had in store.

You were just starting to unpack the boxes for your bathroom, cursing under your breath when you noticed the towels at the very top and bottom of said box were soaked in rain water, when you heard a pounding on your door so loud, you almost screamed.

Nobody even had your address yet. Too embarrassed to tell your friends what your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - did, the only people who knew you were moving were your parents, and they certainly wouldn't be blessing you with a surprise visit on this side of town after dark.

Tip-toeing out of your bedroom, your hair a half-dry and tangled mess, you slowly crept towards your door. Just as you were about to peek through the peephole, you heard the deadbolt unlock and the door swung open, only to be stopped by a laughably weak, eight link chain.

"Alvarez, it's me, open up," a gruff voice said through the crack in the door. He sounded panicked, but at least it wasn't a home invasion. This man just didn't realize Mr. Alvarez was no longer here and he must have had a key.

Combing your hair back from your face, you tentatively stepped into the beam of light that stretched into your living room from the hallway. When you locked eyes with your stranger, all dark and mysterious, your throat constricted. You could only see part of his face, just one eye and half of his soft looking mouth, but your heart still fluttered a bit in your chest.

"Who are you?" he frowned, eyeing you up and down, and suddenly you felt incredibly self-conscious standing in your own apartment only wearing your white tank top and sleep shorts.

"Excuse me? I live here. Who are you?" you countered, crossing your arms defensively. The man scoffed and tried to get a better glimpse of your apartment, as if he were expecting another person to emerge.

"Where's Alvarez?"

At that point, you felt a little bad. If this man knew Mr. Alvarez well enough to have a key, what you were about to tell him would be devastating, so you sighed and motioned for him to step back.

"Let me undo the chain," you explained, and he paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on your chest before taking a step back and allowing you to close the door and slide the chain off. When you reopened it, you finally saw all of your mystery man. He was decked out in black: black ski cap, black leather gloves, black jeans and jacket, and he dripped rainwater from each article of clothing, creating a small puddle in the thin carpet right outside your door.

"I'm so sorry, but Mr. Alvarez passed away a few weeks ago," you said sympathetically, and while, in your experience, men tended to be less emotional, you didn't expect his response.

"Well that's just fucking great," he muttered, and for the first time you realized he was out of breath. Red flags began to pop up everywhere: the dark clothes, the indifferent response to a friend's death, the fucking hand hidden behind his back. How didn't you notice that before?

You went to quickly shut your door but his hand shot out and stopped you.

"I'm sorry, but I'm gonna need to come in," he said, and your eyes went wide. Your parents warned you this side of town was bad, but the very first night?

"No!" you protested, putting all your weight into pushing on your door, but he wedged himself so you couldn't close it.

"I left something in here and I need it," he explained through gritted teeth.

"Nothing was here when I moved in," you said, still pushing on the door, "I have my phone and I'm calling the police!"

It was a lie. You didn't have your phone. It was still charging on your bed, but you had hoped that would make the man leave. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

The door shoved open and you flew backwards, falling onto your back with a yelp, a sharp pain shooting up your spine.

The man entered your apartment and quickly shut the door behind him before glancing around.

"Are we alone?"

You scowled at him, about to lie, but you realized there was no point so you didn't say anything. He sighed and reached out an arm.

"I'm sorry," he said, and for the first time in your brief interaction, you heard some emotion in his voice. You stared hesitantly at his still wet, gloved hand before grabbing it and allowing him to pull you back up as you rubbed the back of your head with a wince. "You okay?" he asked, his brows furrowed and when you realized both his hands were visible, you relaxed a fraction.

"I think so. What the hell? Who are you?"

"I'm-"

He was about to explain when you both heard heavy footsteps running towards your door. In the blink of an eye, he reached forward and slid the chain back into the lock and deadbolted the door. There wasn't a second to spare because two fists began pounding heavily on the door from the other side.

You gasped softly and stepped backwards, eyes wide and filled with fear. That was when your mystery man pulled out the handgun from the back of his pants, silencer already attached, and your mind went blank.

This was how you were going to die.

"Open up!" a man's voice shouted from the other side as he began to kick at the door, making you jump. The intruder turned to you just as a rumble of thunder shook your building.

"You gotta make them leave."

"Me?" you whispered in a panic, "how do you expect me to do that?"

"They want me, and if they know I'm here, they'll kill me. Do you understand?" he asked, matching the volume of your voice while grabbing your shoulders.

Your lower lip began to tremble and he noticed.

"You can do this," he assured you, walking you backwards towards your bedroom as the shouting and pounding got louder. And as you stared into his deep brown eyes, you started to believe him. "I'm gonna hide and then you gotta tell them I'm not here. Can you do that?"

"If they just want you, why don't I just let them have you?" you asked as he continued to walk you backwards.

"Because they'll kill you, too," he said, his gaze never wavering. "These guys don't leave loose ends."

Fear shot through your body like the bolt of lightning outside your window.

Once he got to your bedroom, he released his grip on your shoulders and headed for your closet. He opened the accordion doors and pushed your clothes aside before sliding in against the wall.

"Just convince them I'm not here. You just moved in, you have no idea what they're talking about, okay?" he said, holding your gaze until you slowly nodded. Then he snapped the doors shut and shuffled your clothes around, leaving you all alone.

As you walked back towards your front door, you snagged a towel from the open box of bathroom stuff and wrapped it around your hair. You could do this. You had to.

You took a deep breath, your hand curling around the brass doorknob, and yanked it open, the chain still holding the door in place so you only saw a glimpse of the men in the hall, but you could see at least four.

"Can I help you?" you asked, trying your best to sound annoyed and not scared for your life. "You interrupted my shower," you added, pointing to your wrapped hair.

"Where is he?" the first man asked. His head was bald but you could see some stubble coming through, indicating he must shave his head.

"Who?" you asked innocently, and the man sneered.

"You know who."

"Actually, no I don't," you said, crossing your arms. "This is my apartment and I was enjoying a quiet night in before you arrived."

"Oh, yeah? You wear a men's shoe, size eleven?" the beefy looking guy asked, quirking an eyebrow as he stared down at the floor. Your eyes slowly drifted down and noticed a wet and dirty outline of your stranger's boot pressed firmly into the ancient beige carpet.

"No," you said, meeting his eye again. "But my boyfriend does. And he's out getting us dinner. We just moved in tonight," you told him confidently, squaring your shoulders and fucking praying the chain would hold if push came to shove.

You saw the men behind him exchange glances and shift their weight as they mulled over what you said. It was working. All you could hear was your own heart pounding loudly in your chest, the rain beating heavily against the glass windows of your living room, and in the distance, another soft rumble of thunder.

The bald man shot one more cursory glance into your apartment before meeting your eye.

"Must have the wrong unit."

You smirked.

"Honest mistake," you said, bravely holding his gaze as the group of them slowly ambled back towards the stairs. Once they were out of sight, you shut the door and twisted the lock, letting out a shaky breath. Your arms and legs were weak, head fuzzy from the adrenaline when you remembered a stranger was stuffed inside your closet.

Stumbling back towards your bedroom, you swung open the closet door, breath shallow and fast just to find him leaning up against the wall, a floorboard in your closet removed, revealing a now empty cash box, and holding up a piece of lingerie.

"For your boyfriend?" he questioned, and your fear quickly transformed into anger when you snatched it from his hand and tossed it on the floor next to his feet.

"Get the hell out of here," you told him, voice trembling.

He gave you a cocky smirk and pushed himself off the wall.

Gazing down at you, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, he lowly asked "got a towel I could use?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move towards the open box in the middle of your room, snatching up a clean towel and tossing it to him before pulling your own towel from your head and dropping it by your feet.

You watched for a moment as he plucked the ski cap off his head, revealing a thicket of dark brown, wet hair and used the towel to help flick away the moisture. Then your eyes landed on his gun, now tucked into the front of his jeans.

His gaze followed yours and smirked, thinking you were looking at something else.

"See something you like?" he asked, making you blush.

You swallowed roughly and took a step back. "Are you going to kill me, now?"

His gaze softened and he dropped his towel next to yours.

"No."

You eyed him wearily, still not believing him until he took the gun from his pants and tossed it on your bed, a good five feet away, leaving you both defenseless.

"Better?" he asked, and you raked your eyes up and down his body.

"How do I know you don't have any other weapons on you?"

He grinned and took another step forward, his eyes darkening. "You wanna frisk me?"

Your cheeks flushed with heat and you looked away, but he pinched your chin, the leather soft against your skin, and tilted your head back in his direction.

"Tell me something," he murmured, his eyes boring into yours, "you really got a boyfriend coming back here?"

He could see your face fall and he instantly felt regret.

"No," you said softly, your eyes now pinned to the floor with shame, "we broke up. It's why I just moved in here."

He frowned as he studied your face. "Why did you break up?" he asked, his fingers still gripping your chin.

"Caught him cheating on me," you told him. Why could you tell this perfect stranger your deepest shame but you couldn't tell your best friends?

He tsked and inched a little closer. "He's a fucking idiot."

Your eyes snapped up to his in surprise, only to find desire and need reflected right back.

Before either of you could overthink it, your mouths crashed together, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck and his hands pulling at your waist, dragging you against him as you devoured one another. Your fingers raked through his still damp hair, his skin smelling like the rain and sweat and gunpowder, the combination intoxicating. His tongue slipped past your lips with a groan, his exhale coming in quick, hot puffs against your cheek as he walked you back toward your bedroom wall. Once your body made contact with the chipped paint, he reached down and snagged the backs of your thighs, wrapping your legs around him while his tongue swirled aggressively around yours.

When he ground his hips into you, his hardening length rubbing against the ache between your legs, you gasped and tipped your head back.

"I don't even know your name," you whispered as his lips traveled down your neck, nipping and biting playfully as he went, the rain sounding like little musical notes against your singular bedroom window. He just moaned against your skin, his teeth dragging lightly over your collarbone while you rolled your hips against him, desperately some seeking relief for the fire he started between your legs.

He yanked you from the wall, a small squeak of surprise slipping past your lips, fingers digging into his broad shoulders as he carried you to your bed and dropped you down next to his gun. His assault on your neck never stopped. You arched your back, wishing he would take off those damn gloves so you could feel him when his phone suddenly trilled in his pocket. His lips stalled and you held your breath, each of you frozen in the moment wondering how you managed to find yourselves in such a compromising position so quickly.

"Shit," he whispered, reaching into his pants pocket, and you knew right then and there it was over.

He glanced at the screen and gave you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry," he said, pushing himself away from you and snatching up his gun and hat. "I gotta go."

You sat up on your bed and pressed your legs together, hoping your face didn't look as red as it felt.

Before he left, he glanced back at you, his eyes falling to your mouth, watching as your teeth sunk anxiously into your lower lip, chin bright red from the burn of his five o'clock shadow.

"Thank you," he said, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. And before you could respond, he disappeared with just a soft click of your door, making you wonder by morning if you had dreamed him up.

Monday

As expected, you hardly slept. Sleeping in a new place all on its own had its challenges, but after almost dying a handful of times within an hour, a good nights sleep was pretty much out of the question.

You don't know why you did it, but as you were getting ready for work, after a lukewarm shower, you foolishly grabbed the piece of lingerie your stranger discovered in your closet and put it on under your clothes. Maybe you wanted a reminder of him, or maybe you just wanted to feel more confident.

Arriving ten minutes early, the rain drying on the sidewalk but the smell still thick and heavy in the air, you strode up to the front doors of the financial consulting firm, hoping that the amount of coffee you poured down your throat that morning would be enough to keep you at your best.

The perky blonde from HR was showing you around the impressive building as she led you back to the department you would be working with. You were longingly eyeing the fresh fruit in the break room when you turned around and nearly ran smack dab into her back, stumbling a bit in the process.

An apology died on your lips when you found yourself looking past her, gaze falling onto an all too familiar looking man inside an office less than ten feet away, his phone cradled between his shoulder and ear as he typed into his computer, a concentrated look painting his impossibly handsome face. His dark, soft hair was neatly combed, his plush lips twitching into the receiver as his muscular shoulders stretched the fabric of his light blue button down, and when he reached for a file, his eye suddenly catching yours.

Neither of you looked away while he continued to give one word answers over the phone and you barely recognized that the HR girl was showing you your new desk. A desk right outside his office. All you could think about was what his hair felt like between your fingers, what his mouth felt like when he left those marks on your neck you had to cover that morning with makeup.

How he left you, needy and aching for more.

Then your eyes flicked to the shiny name plaque next to his door frame: Dave York.

pt. 2

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[lucisfavoritedemon]

Straight to the Heart

Summary: What if Mabel put the Love potion on the wrong fries, leading her and Wendy on a quest to find Love God after the festival, some bonding between Dipper and Stan, and an unexpected love story.

Loosely based on this request from @thebestusernamepossible: Mabel adventure, with anyone, I just like Mabel and think she deserves to star in a mission. Maybe some Stan and Dipper bonding, they are my fave underrated duo.

Warnings: Fluff, unexpected romance, self-conscious thoughts, mild angst.

A/N: This took me a while to figure out what to write about, then I watched the Love God Episode and I couldn’t resist. Also this is the first time I’ve attempted writing something like this. So, I hope you enjoy 🙂

Mabel didn’t mean for it to happen, caught in the moment of trying to set up Robbie and Tambry; she didn’t pay attention to whose fries she sprinkled the love potion over. It wasn’t until the cook bagged up the order and walked over and handed them to none other than Y/n. Mabel ran to try to stop her, but Y/n was insistent that she get back to the shack.

Mabel rushed out and followed her. Mabel only hoped those fries were just for Y/n and she could keep her in her room until the potion wears off. Mabel watched from outside the window hoping and waiting.

“Stan! I’m back with your lunch!” Y/n yelled, setting the bag on the counter.

This was Mabel’s chance, but before she could try to climb through the window, Stan walked in and took the fries out of the bag, and opened them, “Ugh, did you let Mabel touch my food again?” Stan groaned out.

“Of course not, why do you ask?” Y/n walked back in after she had put her stuff away.

“My fries have glitter on them.”

“You want me to take them back?”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Stan stated and ate a fry. 

He looked at Y/n and suddenly felt something new, new and exciting. She suddenly looked so beautiful, more beautiful than he already thought she was. She started working for him many years ago when she moved to Gravity Falls after dropping out of college. He thought she was the perfect business partner, but nothing further developed between them. Stan secretly always had feelings for her, but not to this extent. He didn’t know how long he had been staring, but he soon realized she was giving him a concerned look.

“Everything okay Stan? Do the fries not taste good?” Y/n voice sounded worried and concerned. He wanted to say they were delicious, but her just standing there took every word from his brain from coming out in words.

“Perfect. I go now.” Was all he could get out as he took the rest of his food and bolted to the TV room. He thought he was safe to process what was going on.

Mabel, having watched this whole scene unfold, knew she had to undo what she did. She liked the fact that her Grunkle Stan was finally acting vulnerable, but this isn’t how she wanted him to confess his feelings for Y/n. She took off and went to find Wendy to help her find Love God and get the reversal potion.

~

Meanwhile, as Stan sits at the Game table in the TV room, Dipper walks in hearing his Grunkle talking to himself.

“Stan, you okay?”

“Dipper!” Stan sounded caught off guard, but also relieved, “you gotta help me!”

“Woah Grunkle Stan, what’s going on?”

“Something is happening to me. I was sitting in the kitchen eating the lunch I asked Y/n to get me, and suddenly, I took a bite, and looked at her, and she was standing there looking so beautiful. You’ve been in love with someone unattainable, right? You gotta know how to help me!”

Dipper rolled his eyes at Stan’s last comment, “look Grunkle Stan, maybe you finally realized that you have feelings for Y/N? It can come on suddenly.”

“Look, okay, I have sort of always had a thing for her, but I don’t what about today made her look so different.”

“Maybe your brain is telling you that maybe it’s time for you to tell her how you feel?”

“I-I don’t know. She’s just so…perfect. There is no way someone like her could be into a guy like me.”

“You never know. Why don’t I help you? I can help you come up with a romantic way to ask her on a date.”

“Y-you’d really do that for me kiddo?”

Dipper smiles and nods. Stan smiles back ready for whatever Dipper may have in store.

~

Mabel and Wendy meet at Wendy’s house to try to come up with a plan to find the Love God and reverse the spell.

“Look Mabel, is it really such a bad thing that Stan and Y/n become a thing?” Wendy asked.

“No, but I had a whole plan for that. They both have true feelings about each other. This throws off my whole plan. We have to reverse it. That and Stan was the only one that got the love potion.”

“Okay, so what’s the plan?”

“We have to find Love God, get the reversal and give it to Stan before something bad happens.”

“What could possibly happen?”

“She doesn’t return his feelings, he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep. A lot of things Wendy!” Mabel yelled in panic.

“Woah, woah, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” Wendy stated putting her hand on Mabel’s shoulder.

They devised a plan on how to get backstage to find Love God and to get his anti-love potion. Some of it fighting/punching Love God in the face knocking him unconscious, that bit being Wendy’s plan, but mostly sneaking around, and staying hidden to sneak the anti-love potion away from Love God.

~

“Okay Grunkle Stan, since you and Soos already planned on being at the Woodstick Festival, maybe you should ask her to go with you?” Dipper spoke to Stan as he got him changed into a nice new suit and tie.

“I-I don’t know kid. How do you know she is even interested?” Stan questioned.

“Just trust me Grunkle Stan. I’ll be there the whole time to help you if you need it. I promise.”

Stan let out a sigh and nodded, “okay kiddo, I’ll ask her, as long as you promise to step in and help me if my brain starts to do the thing it does where I just say whatever comes to it. Unless it’s a nice thing that is.”

“I promise. Now get out there and ask her on a date.” Dipper smiles and shoves his uncle out of the room to go find Y/n.

“H-hey Y/n…” Stan speaks up once he finds you in the living room watching TV.

She smiles at him, “oh hey Stan, you look nice today.” Her eyes check out his new suit and tie.

“Th-thank you. It’s new. Dipper picked it out for me,” Stan spoke nervously.

“It looks good. Kid did a very nice job. It suits you well.”

“Y/n, y-you know I was wondering if…I don’t know if you had plans tonight, but…um Soos and I are going to the Woodstick Festival…if you wanted to come with.”

She smiles fondly at him, “absolutely. I’d love to. Though, I didn’t think you liked the Woodstick Festival?”

“I don’t. Soos suggested I try to appeal to the young generation, saying I’m chasing away potential customers.”

“That’s a very good point.”

“So, you’re going with me?” Stan sort of smiled.

She smiled and nodded, “absolutely.”

“It’s a date then.” Stan chuckled then stopped once he realized what he said.

“It’s a date.” She smiled back.

~

After a few hours of getting ready for her date with Stan, they head off to the festival. Stan leaves Soos and Dipper to sew up the hot air balloon Stan planned, while he takes Y/n to a spot on the hill to watch the concert. He set up a little picnic for themselves and laid down a blanket. The night was looking perfect.

“I’m really happy you said yes to letting me take you on a date.” Stan stated as they sat down.

“Thank you for asking me to come. I always sort of liked you, Stan Pines. I was starting to wonder if you felt the same way about me.”

“I always have, but I never knew how to ask you. This afternoon though, it was like it was the easiest thing to realise and admit how I felt about you. Easier than anything I have ever done before.” Stan admitted.

Y/n smiles at him happily, “I’m glad it was.”

Stan smiled and pulled her close as they sat and watched the crowd below. Neither really paying attention to the music, but more paying attention to each other and the calm silence that fell between them. It was the easiest thing they had ever done was being here in the moment with one another. It was hard to focus on anything else.

Mabel and Wendy snuck into the festival. They had managed to get backstage and waited for the perfect moment to strike to steal the potion from Love God.

“Sound Check for Love God.” A stage manager came out and yelled at the van that he was in.

Love God came out and had his groupies mess his hair up before they all went backstage for the sound check. Mabel found her chance to hop in the back of the van where Love God left his belt of love potions laying around.

“Let’s see, summer love, puppy love, interspecies love, love of country music, ew. Ah ha! Anti-love, just spray on your victims and watch their heart die on the inside.” Mabel exclaimed in joy.

“Awesome, let's go find Y/n and Stan and spray them!” Wendy smiled from the side.

“Not so fast! So, you’re the person who has been stealing my potions,” Love God appeared out of nowhere, “I warned you kid, but you didn’t listen. Hey where you’d go.” He looked and realized Mabel and Wendy were running away from him.

He chased after them trying to get the potion back from them. They weaved in and out of the crowds. Love God even flew above them to try to catch them off guard, but with no luck. He finally had to do something that may throw one of them off guard, and that was visions of heartbreaks past. This affected Mabel more than Wendy, causing Mabel to give up the potion and it landing back in Love God’s hands.

“I’ll be right back toots, I’m gonna check on Soos and Dipper to see how the balloon is coming.” Stan smiled as he stood up.

Stan walked over to Soos and who were on the other side of the fence and asked how everything was going. He critiqued them on a few things, but the balloon was ready to lift into the air. Unfortunately, as the balloon lifted into the air, two letters ripped from the balloon, making the horrifying Stan balloon say ‘I EAT KIDS’ instead of ‘I HEART KIDS’.

Crowds were running and screaming from the monstrous balloon that now had caught fire. Stan, Soos, and Dipper ran off to follow where it was going. Y/n got up and ran after them, running at their heels. The balloon then settled down right on top of Love God, making him let go of the Anti-Love potion which he had finally let go of.

Once the excitement of the event settled, and the fire was put out, everyone turned and saw Stan and ran screaming and yelling, “he’s gonna eat us!” Y/n giggled at the remarks from everyone. After all the years of running away and secluding the business that could come from the festival, Stan was probably better off than trying to please the younger generation.

“Being loved by the youth is overrated, being feared, no that’s priceless.” Stan stated wrapping an arm around Y/n and patting Soos’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t agree more. You were probably better off steering clear rather than appeasing the youth anyways, but it made a pretty good first date story.” Y/n giggled, teasing him.

“F-first date? M-meaning you want more? With me?” Stan asked her in shock.

“Yeah, I’d love to go on another date with you, many more dates actually.” She smiled.

Stan couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness, he had no idea how it came to be, or what possessed him to even talk to Dipper about it, and get encouraged to ask her on a date, but he was happy he did.

“Y-you know, I wanted to ask you out for a while now, but I know the chaos of everything and running the shack with me, no time was really a good time, plus I never really knew how to tell you till today. I don’t know what you did to my fries, but whatever it was,” he grabbed Y/n by the hands, “I’m glad you did it because I would never have never gained enough courage to ask you out myself.”

Y/n smiles and kisses his cheek, “whatever stars aligned in our favor today Stan, I’m glad they did. You’ve always made me feel so special, but tonight has topped everything.”

Mabel watched their exchange unfold, and looked at the bottle. She couldn’t bring herself to spray them. They were happy and that’s all that mattered. Her Grunkle Stan finally had someone who could make him happy, and she was happy that person was Y/n. She did a lot for her uncle, and couldn’t ask for him to fall in love with anyone else.

“Having second thoughts there bud?” Wendy knelt down and whispered.

“They seem so happy, yeah it didn’t happen in the way I had planned, but maybe Grukle Stan is right, he would have never gotten the courage to ask her alone. Maybe he did need a push in the right direction. I can’t mess with the fate of their love Wendy.”

Wendy nods in response.

Stan turns to Dipper, “hey kiddo, thanks for the help. Without you, I may not have gotten that extra umph I needed to really ask Y/n out. You really helped me kiddo. You’re a true man Dipper.”

Dipper smiled at his uncle's praise, “thanks Grunkle Stan.”

The rest of the night the six of them sat and watched the concert happily as can be. It was the happiest any of them had been in a long time, and they all hoped that it would last a lifetime.

[asa-do-your-thing]

Set me on fire

18+ MINORS DNI Lord Eddard Stark x F!Reader 2.5 k Warnings: P in V sex,, por w/o plot, smut duh, virginity, wedding night, fingering, doggystyle, kind of dom/sub dynamic, Older man / younger woman, as always no proofreading no nothing

ok I had serious Ned Stark brainrot tonight, I needed to write something short and sweet

"Thank you my Lord, for this. For everything. And most importantly, for letting me kiss you, all these weeks ago," Emma said gently as they stepped inside Lord Stark's chamber.

Ned's eyes drank her in when she entered the room, his breath catching a bit at the sight of her gown and her wedding hairdo. She really was a vision, both now and as his wife. The thought of her being his wife now still left him in awe, thinking back to the past weeks... and how long and agonizing they had been.

“I am the one who should be thanking you...” He gave her a wry smile and stood next to the bed, waiting for her to get closer.

Emma giggled and slowly took off her new, Stark cloak. She would not make this - their wedding night - quick and easy for him. "Well, then, I guess that you are welcome. I was afraid that you did not like me at first and wanted me to marry Robb or Bran..."

When her cloak fell onto the ground, Ned's eyes could do nothing but trace the shapes underneath the wedding gown. He would never get enough of her, that much he had realized during all these weeks. All the cold baths in the world wouldn't have done any good.

“I admit I was uncertain at first, Lady Tyrell...,” he mumbled, his eyes still focused on her body.

"Lady Stark now, my Lord. I decided to leave my House in the South for good," She said and slowly took off her veil and took the ribbons out of her hair. She liked to play this slow game of seduction with him. "But now I know why Robb was so... desperate. You were this close to taking me against a tree on the day you had proposed to me."

Ned tried to give her a stern look, but was too distracted by her luscious curls to pull it off. He just couldn't help but imagine how they would look spread out on his pillows....

"I... was in a moment of weakness, Lady Stark.” A smile tugged at his lip as he said 'Lady Stark', the sound of her new name rolling of his tongue pleasantly. “Perhaps I will have to punish you for this insolence...”

"Oh! My Lord..." Emma blushed furiously and tried to erase the image of Ned bending her over his knees, instead gently stepping out of her dress and kicking off her slippers. "If that is my Lord Husbands wish, his command, then who am I to oppose it?"

The sight of her standing there in her stockings and her shift, so beautiful and willing, was enough to make the blood in his body boil and he could do nothing but drink her in with his eyes. He stepped closer to her and started to undo the buttons on his doublet, never once taking his eyes off of her.

“You would be happy to take my punishment... wouldn't you, my girl?”

Using her pet name only between the two of them intensified their intimacy. No one else referred to her as 'my girl' except for him. He used to worry about being judged for marrying someone over ten years his junior, but calling her his girl fueled his passion and desire.

“Yes, my Lord..." she breathed out, biting her bottom lip in anticipation. "I would even offer myself to you... if only you would come closer. But you'd be just as happy to dole it out, wouldn't you?"

Ned's breath was still shallow as she stepped closer to him. “Oh, definitely...” He stepped closer, closing the last of the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her hips, pulling her gently against him. “You have been a very bad girl, you know,” he said in a low voice, before leaning down and placing a kiss on her neck.

"Have I?" Emma whispered and gently untied his breeches, tentatively laying a hand on his hardness. "Tell me, lord Husband, what have I done?"

"You have been teasing me all these weeks, Lady Emma...” he said, burying his face in her neck. “And now, I think, it's my turn to tease you...” He said, before letting go of her and moving towards the large four-poster bed.

Emma was slightly taken aback but smirked as she followed him. He thought he could outsmart her? “Oh, my Lord Husband, I am up for any challenge you might throw at me.” A blush spread over her cheeks, knowing that she was still a maiden and that Ned must’ve had so much more experience, but she decided to squash her nagging thoughts before they could form earnestly.

“As… as long as you are gentle,” she added quietly before letting her shift fall, so that she was left in her thigh-high stockings.

Ned hesitated when she mentioned him being gentle, a twinge of guilt forming at the back of his mind. He had been with other women before, but she would be his second wife... and her first ever. He turned around, looking at her with tenderness in his eyes. “I... I will be as gentle as possible, my girl.” He said, the endearment coming out tenderly as he removed his doublet and breeches, revealing his hardened state.

“I... I trust you, my Lord.” Emma moved closer to their bed, her heart hammering in her chest. “I am yours. I... I know that it might hurt..."

"Shh..." Ned said soothingly, joining her on the bed and pulling her close to him. "I will be as gentle as I can be... but it might still hurt a little at first, I'm afraid." He admitted, toying gently with her hair. "However... after that it's over and I can, well...” He trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid but the smirk on his face said enough.

Emma nodded gently and spat on her hand and guided it to his length, just like she had been told to do and Ned groaned instantly. “Do… do whatever you wish, Ned, I… I trust you,” she whispered with a blush, before she laid down, her curls falling around her pale, freckled, bare skin.

Ned's hands trembled slightly as he traced her body with his fingertips, following the soft contours of her hips and stomach before resting on her thighs. He watched as his wife parted them, giving him access to her most intimate place. He could feel his pulse racing as he looked at her shapely legs and the soft curls between them. The scent of lavender filled his nostrils, mixing with the natural musk of arousal that came from her body. He leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips against her, tasting their combined essence. His hands moved slowly upwards, teasing every inch of her skin as he moved closer to her core.

Emma arched her back, wanting him to touch her more forcefully but she held herself back, knowing he would take the lead. "Please..." she whispered, wanting to beg for him to continue but not wanting to sound like a needy bride.

His fingers circled around her entrance and dipped inside gently, feeling how wet she already was for him. He groaned softly against her skin and slid his middle finger inside her slowly, feeling the tightness that surrounded him. Ned watched as she closed her eyes and bit down on her lip, trying to contain herself. The sounds she made were creating a symphony of pleasure and pain that resonated within him. Her body was warm and inviting, opening up for him slowly as he pressed deeper into her, stretching out those untouched folds.

“You’re mine, only mine… I’ll fill you up with my children… Fuck you over and over, making your pretty, perky tits bounce around…,” he whispered gently into her ears and felt her clenching around his fingers, evidently close to her release, to which he quickly pulled his fingers out and rested them on her hot, sticky mound.

Emma pouted and continued her strokes with her small hand around his cock. “Is… unfair…”

Ned chuckled lightly and kissed her, moaning quietly at the way her hand squeezed him. “You’ve teased me all these weeks, my girl. Be patient…”

He guided his length to her opening and gently pushed inside, feeling the resistance as he entered her for the first time ever. He could feel her tightness around him, like a vice gripping him as he pushed further, inch by agonizingly slow inch. Their breathing was ragged, heated, intertwined with the soft sounds of their moans when he finally buried himself completely within her.

The pain was immense, but Emma bit on her lower lip to not cry out. It hurt so much, more than she thought it would, but she also felt a strange impulse to feel him move inside of her and know that she was now officially his.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Ned panted out and rested his forehead against hers. “I want this to be… special.”

“I… I’m alright... more…” Emma encouraged him softly, before wrapping her legs around him, her inner heat practically screaming for more. “More, my Lord… I can take more. Please…”

It was so lewd, but Ned loved it. Ned loved her, loved her youthful glow,, the way she called him ‘my lord’, her fervour, and most importantly the way her cunny gripped him. “More? My, I haven’t even… started, my girl,” he mumbled and slowly started moving, groaning at the way a beautiful blush spread over Emma’s cheeks and chest.

Emma tightened her legs around him, gripping his waist firmly as he began to move, and she couldn't help but moan his name softly into the dimly lit room. The pain ebbed away, replaced by a different kind of fire, one that she craved more of. His hand found her breasts, cupping them roughly as he continued to thrust into her, taking her virginity boldly, aggressively.

Ned was lost in the moment, somewhere between sanity and reality.

He never thought this day would come, that he would be here, with her, on their wedding night, consummating their marriage. But here they were and he couldn't be happier. The feel of her walls clenching around him sent jolts of pleasure through his body and he knew that their children would feel at home here. He would fill her up so much that she wouldn't want any other man but him. He would show any- and everyone that she was his. Ned groaned, picking up the speed as Emma arched her back more for him to take.

Her nails dug into his back as she clung to him for dear life, feeling herself on the brink of something monumental. "Ned... I... I'm close," she panted out breathlessly before he claimed her mouth once more in a messy kiss. He angled her hips upwards just a little bit more and hit a spot within her that made her see stars behind her closed lids.

"There we go… there... just like that… come for me, my girl…," Ned encouraged her and gently laid his thumb on her impossibly soft, warm pearl, stroking it gently while continuing to hammer up into her. “My beautiful… beautiful…. girl….”

She saw stars.

Emma tensed up and tried her best not to scream too loudly, but with the new, added stimulation, it was hard not to. Though not long after this blissful feeling had subsided, Ned pulled out of her and gently turned her around and pulled her up onto her elbows and knees, gently spreading her buttocks up for him to admire. Not long after, she felt the familiar heat against her entrance, though he waited. A gentle, yet hard slap against her arse pulled her out of her reverie.

“Fuck, you’re so tight…”, Ned whispered as he slowly pushed himself inside her, trying not to come too quickly. Her buttocks wiggled too beautifully, to perfectly against him - it was perfect agony. “M-may I?”, he asked quietly as he wrapped his hand around her throat, but her broad smile and small nod answered his question for him.

“Yes, please… I-I want… more,” Emma moaned out, feeling him hit places she didn’t know even existed, yet she wanted more and more of him. “Fill me up…”

And so, he gave her more - rough, explosive thrusts that had them both moaning and gasping for air. His hand tightened around her neck gently, not enough to asphyxiate but just enough to create a heady rush of pleasure and power.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her back, slamming himself into her over and over again, his grip on her neck tightening with each thrust. The mattress creaked from their vigorous mating, but they didn't care. All she could feel was him, all he could think of was her as they both rode each other to completion.

Ned came first, with a roar, spilling his seed deep inside her womb. Emma felt every drop of his warmth escaping into her and knew this was it. This was where she belonged - with him, in their bed. She followed suit moments later, screaming out loud as her walls clenched around him and she experienced her second orgasm of the night - mind-blowing and earth-shattering. Her legs trembled as she tried to regain control of herself, breathing heavily against the pillow.

Ned carefully pulled out of her and laid next to her, not quite ready to let go of her just yet. He gently wiped the sweat off her brow and kissed every inch of skin he possibly could before resting his head on the crook of her neck.

"I love you..," he whispered softly in her ear.

Panting heavily, Ned lowered himself down to rest his forehead against her head once more, still buried deep inside of her. Their heartbeats drummed in unison. "Welcome to our wedding night," he breathed out between kisses on her neck. He pulled out slowly, watching as a small pool of blood formed where he'd taken her virginity. It was both beautiful and terrifying in its own way, knowing that this moment would forever be etched into their shared history.

As he moved to lay beside her, he grabbed a damp cloth from the bedside table and cleaned them both up gently before tugging a fur over their naked forms.

The air was cool against their now heated skin as Ned held Emma close to him, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. "You did well today, my girl. You were perfect, just like I knew you would be.”

Emma hummed and snuggled closer to Ned. “Thank you. Let us hope that I can give you a pup soon.”

Blushing, Ned pressed another kiss on her head. “I… yes. Of course.” He did not regret marrying her, he thought retrospectively, and gently held his small wife up against his chest. “As many as you want.”

[blackswan446]

partyisntover.

→ pairing: yan!kth x reader

→ "we could still dance"

→ wc: 1556

→ cws: drugging, kidnapping, slight sexual innuendos

→ notes: this is inspired by one of my favorite songs, specifically the first part "PartyIsntOver", it's by tyler, the creator, and i would recommend listening to (the whole song obviously cus its fire) but specifically PartyIsntOver before/while reading :) enjoy!

parties were like your safe space. it was a strange thing to say, but it was true. for some odd reason, you always felt more at home at a bustling party than your actual house. maybe it was something about the anonymity of parties, how for one night, you could become whoever you wanted, hide the vulnerable parts of yourself within the dim lights and use the alcohol as an excuse if things were to get out of hand.

or perhaps, you just liked the chaos. raised to be a good, studious girl, you didn't get out much for your entire childhood. everything was meticulous, planned out, by-the-book. there was no room for spontaneity, or a new adventure, or even a happy accident. it was nice for a while, having the assurance that nothing would ever go wrong, but after so many years of it, you grew sick of the blandness. it was then, you realized that describing your life as "calm" and "peaceful" was masking the sad reality of it: that your life was dull.

so, the second you left the house, (literally, the minute your parents drove away from your college), you went out and found something to do. that is, you walked into the first random celebration you happened upon while strolling, and you were hooked. now your life revolved around parties, and gatherings, and events, and any excuse to throw on a nice dress and do something fun with new people. and honestly? you wouldn't have it any other way. in a way, it felt as if your inner child was being healed, like you were finally fulfilling the dreams of a little girl who just wanted to have fun.

taehyung, on the other hand, hated parties. he despised the loud music, the drunk people and their sweaty bodies, thrashing around in a closed off space, forming a pit of body odor and bad decisions. not to mention the feeling of social inferiority that he felt when he was there, and the way he just stood around, drinking whatever poison was shoved into his hand by a drunk rando didn't help his case. yet he kept showing up, every single time, he always came back, for one reason.

you.

he couldn't explain it, but the two of you, you completed each other. the yin to his yang. and the two of you, together, would create the perfect balance that you needed, that he needed. hell, just looking at you, his heart was relieved of the negative emotions that came with the social ostracization. like the confidence and happiness that bloomed in your heart was sent to his, traveling by a long, invisible string connecting the two. he knew that it would take work, and the very type of meticulous planning that you grew to hate. he wasn't someone you'd even look at. but he had determination, a drive to achieve lifelong joy, the same type he felt whenever he looked at you.

of course, he had already started by removing the obvious disturbances to fate. he tore them up, burned some of them, dissolved others, and some of them he just buried. it didn't matter where they wound up, as long as they weren't stepping on the string, he didn't care. but they were all gone now, and he could undo the final loop, the one that stopped the string from drawing a straight line from you to him, the one that would finally make things so much clearer. of course, it was a little extreme, but taehyung always took precautions. he couldn't risk the string tangling up again, and how would that happen if there was nothing for it to get caught on?

spying you from across the packed room, you were holding a drink, in your element. somehow, the painful colored lights did wonders for you, the reds and blues giving your skin a purple hue. all he could do was look from the shadows, and wait to catch your eyes. and catch they did, as it was only a few minutes before they met, and with a smirk, approached you.

you could talk later, after all, you'd have all the time in the world to talk and get to know each other after tonight. for now, he just wanted to do what he had to do and get you both out of there. you smiled at him, giving him a shouted greeting. he smiled back and leaned down towards your ear. "the party isn't over yet. want to dance?" he offered, reaching out his hand to lead you to the dance floor.

you nodded, since it was too loud to give him an actual response, and took his hand. he smiled, and weaved through the mass of people holding you tight as he did so. you found yourself in a small corner of the dance floor, away from the large crowd of people in the center. you were surprised at him, since you had seen him around at a few parties, and never saw him dance or even talk to other people. but he wasted no time in grabbing your hips and swaying the both of you along with the music. not that you didn't appreciate his forwardness, you actually enjoyed it, and it didn't take long for you to follow his lead.

"good song, hm?" he asked, leaning down so far that his head was basically in the crook of your neck. you nodded shyly, the heat in your face hopefully being hidden by the colored lights. he gave a short, husky laugh in your ear, as his feet twisted up with yours. "sorry about that, i'm not the best dancer." he apologized. you smirked, turning around to face him. standing up to talk into his ear, you laughed back. "if you're such a bad dancer, then why am i out here with you?" you asked cheekily, smiling as you took a sip of your drink.

what a shame you were facing backwards that whole time. if you weren't, maybe you would've seen the little bag of white powder taehyung dumped into your drink. maybe you could've thrown out the drink, slapped him in the face, and gone home. what a damn shame.

he shrugged his shoulders. "you're taking a chance, i guess." he shouted back, grabbing your waist again and pulling you in closer to him. as your head hit his chest, you felt the room spin violently, too violently to match the level of alcohol you had drank that night. suddenly, the music felt too loud yet muffled and far away. the strobing lights were giving you a migraine, and your legs felt like wet spaghetti.

taehyung picked up on your weakness, right away, almost as if he were expecting it. "woah, okay. have a few too many, princess?" he joked, clasping his arms around you tighter. you shook your head, the idea of forming words and annunciating them too much for you to stomach. he laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "come on, you, let's get you out of here. come on." he told you, reaching his arm under your knees and scooping you off your legs, your drink falling from your limp hands and its contents spilling out onto the floor.

you tried to shake your head more, tell him you were okay, but your movement was too weak as everything in your line of vision began to bleed into one another. he laughed again, as he moved his way through the crowd, you heard the noise of the party fade away, the sound of his voice now amplified in your ears. it was only now that you could hear the darkness in his voice, finally being unveiled as the street lights shined above you.

"god, i can't wait to get you home. we're going to have some fun, aren't we?" he murmured, hands digging further into your legs as he struggled to open the door to his car. that was enough to send you into an adrenaline overdrive, shooting your head up as he laid you gently on the car seats. "huh?!" you sputtered, trying to grab for anything you could to fight back.

"i said, 'your night out is done'. you're drunk, sweetheart, you need to go to sleep, okay? just shut your eyes." he pleaded, standing in between your legs as he stroked your cheek softly. you shook your head, weakly, but you still did it, trying to kick your legs to get him away. he grabbed your calves, stilling the thrashing motions. "stop it. i need to bring you home." he growled, "i'm doing this because i love you."

you looked around helplessly as you struggled to comprehend what he said. "what?" you choked, as he shut the back door and got into the driver's seat. "nothing, princess. just go to sleep. it'll all be good when you wake up, okay?" he comforted, starting the ignition and driving away from the bustling house.

you could feel the strands of consciousness slip out of your hands, and felt yourself falling into the abyss of something deeper than sleep. the last remnants of a thought that you could piece together were ones of panic, and the last thing you could see as your eyes fell shut, was taehyung's glare in the rearview mirror.

[nathaniel-underwood-is-an-intj]

Looong rant about chapter 16 Ptolemy's Gate and how being passive can add to the cycle of ab*se.

oof so I just read when Nat goes to see Ms Lutyens and I can't help but be absolutely furious at her??

I know that's maybe a little bit unfair given she's frightened of him as a magician and is obviously angry when she finds out the department he's responsible for, but honestly it kinda brings up the problem with inadvertent bystanders to child ab*se in my mind.

And I'm definitely not blaming her solely for who Nat becomes but it makes me think of all those people in huge child ab*se cases who give interviews to press about all the things they noticed that were wrong but they just...never do anything?

She stood up for him against Lovelace, and when Nat thanked her- "I wanted to say that I know you were trying to save me, and-"

''Yes, and I'm sorry I didn't" Like girl be for real did you really think that alone would undo the years of indoctrination and abuse he's already suffered and prevent years worth of the same in the years to come? And she won't take responsibility - "My job is with children, not the adults they become" and again while it seems harsh to blame her for who Nat becomes, it's so much easier to pass the blame to people who are more directly responsible rather than acknowledging you also play a part.

I think it hurts so much more because it's her specifically- Nat goes to her in sheer desperation, it almost seems like a goodbye- he wants to thank her, tries to set her up in a job that will pay well and struggles to communicate he's trying to help. At this point he thinks Bartimaeus has been summoned by another magician and his birth name will be revealed. He's sure he's about to die and if not he'll be stood on trial and lose everything.

He goes to her because she represents the peaceful moments from his childhood when he got away from his master. He's scared and feeling lost and really it's call for help; but he doesn't ask for anything he just wants to make her feel proud of him- he's looking for that validation that he's been chasing since childhood.

And that shows he still does have that little bit of childhood innocence in him; he thinks she will be proud, thinks she'll see him as the same little boy in the garden gazing up at his teacher in adoration. He can't quite grasp why she's separated the man stood before her from that little boy. Because in that moment the child inside Nathaniel is seeking comfort AND THAT'S WHY it makes me so angry. She's completely given up on him when he's at his lowest ebb, because she doesn't want to be associated with the magician he's become. As if it isn't a massive step in the right direction that he saught her out in the first place- what other magican would bother? I wonder if that's why she reacted so strongly to seeing him again? Before that moment she could go about her life wondering if /pretending her attempt to protect him was enough, and now she realises it wasn't, of course it wasn't, and the image she had of Nathaniel's childhood innocence is completely ruined in her mind.

Or was her contempt for him even grater than Nat realised? She was naturally disgusted by the rhetoric he'd started to repeat from a young age, and gently tried to correct him although she was clearly angry- was she just resigned to the fact that there is little else she could do to change his future? I always thought- couldn't she have looked for him? The Underwood house fire was in the papers and they mentioned the apprentice was being searched for. Did she ever worry about him? Surely something must have been in the papers since- an announcement of new ministers, ANYTHING! Look at how much research Kitty did to find out about Bartimaeus and Ptolemy. I just don't think Rosanna Lutyens cared enough, realistically Nathaniel wasn't hard to find- but he was no longer her responsibility so she could turn a blind eye.

And sadly it's not just her- I know everyone loves Martha Underwood including Nat; but I think her submissiveness to her husband has a negative effect on Nathaniel as well. In AOS when Nat is locked in his room for ages after setting the mites loose, and is forbidden to have any contact with anyone and she won't talk with him. I know she's been told by Mr. Underwood she can't, but it still boils my blood. She's an adult and going along with ignoring Nathaniel because her husband told her to...I can't even begin to imagine the psychological damage that would do to a 10 year old child. (It could be argued she's frightened of the consequences if her husband finds out she's disobeyed him which is fair, he could always be watching through magic- but this is Arthur Underwood we're talking about. He's lazy, oblivious and weak I doubt he'd expend all that energy each day to check up on her.)

And It's even more painful that Nathaniel is often described as fiercely loyal to her and I think to Ms Lutyens as well- he doesn't expect to be treated well by Arthur Underwood but he loved Mrs Underwood and Ms Lutyens so much he started to view them through a rose-coloured lense. He never feels betrayed by either of them, even though they absolutely let him down, because the pedestal he's put them on is too high AND THAT ABSOLUTELY DESTROYS ME.

Would things with Nathaniel have been any different if Mrs Underwood hadn't died? I don't really think so. Do you think she'd see Nathaniel's temper at 14 years old and be reminded of Arthur Underwood? He was awful, absolutely awful to Nat and to her; but he was under so much stress in an underfunded departement, where pressure was being put on him by superiors to accomplish far more than they knew him to be capable of, and he took it out on the easiest target. Nathaniel ends up in exactly the same place and he starts to take it out on the only person around him- Bartimaeus. Would he snap at Mrs Underwood all the time if she were still there? Because he's learnt that behaviour from his father figure, and subconsciously learnt from his mother figure that she'll put up with it. He learnt from the woman he loved so deeply, that if you don't resist, people will walk all over you. So you have to maintain control even if it ends up hurting people you care about because no one will step in to stop the suffering no matter how much you love them, no matter how much you want them too.

It's easy to blame Arthur Underwood and Simon Lovelace and the magicians that actively hurt Nathaniel but I just feel like it's a bit disingenuous not to acknowledge the role of those doing passive harm. It's really mean to say it but even Bartimaeus plays a role- he knows Nat is clinging on to him because he can't 'bring himself to break this last connection' (to his childhood) but instead of bringing it up properly he 'taunts' Nathaniel- a boy who has been taunted for his weakness by his master for years. And even in AOS when Nathaniel tells Bartimaeus he was beaten for the mites incident Bart just kinda shrugs it off. Like I get it, why should Bartimaeus do anything, he's suffered way worse due to the system so he doesn't owe Nat anything right? But from Nat's point of view this is the first and only time he's mentioned to anyone what has happened to him and nothing changes. It's like another lesson learnt: telling someone about it doesn't help. Another nail in the coffin.

And I like all these characters, I feel bad for them. They're all victims of the system, I think the chapter with Ms Lutyens is just the straw that broke the camel's back for me. All of those little opportunities that are insignificant to the narrative over all; the commoners have it worse, Nathaniel is in a privileged position in society, exerting control over others. He's very morally grey, crossing over into objectively bad person territory but I love him with my whole heart and all of those insignificant moments would have been massive to him whether he was conscious of it or not.

And it goes all the way back to the beginning with Nat's parents giving him up to the magicians at 5 years old. I can't get the image of that little boy sat crying all alone in the government building. And he's not going somewhere safer, or somewhere he'll be happier and more loved. Giving your child over to a total stranger, oh he'll be totally fine won't he? He'll grow up to be a magician and far richer than you'll ever be, he'll be happy and comfortable and be grateful he got to grow up in luxury. There's no way a stranger you've never met, who the majority of society is terrified of would ever hurt a vulnerable little kid right? And if they do? Well you aren't responsible anymore, how could you know? What could you possibly do against the magician taking care of him?

Every little thing is another grain of sand tipping the scale. Did anyone else have to analyse An Inspector Calls in school? It feels like that to me- those BIG moments and all the little moments in between that add onto the pile.

And it goes on to cause problems in wider society too- ab*se is so normalised to the magicians, they casually ask Underwood if he hits Nathaniel like it's nothing. Because to them it is nothing, they've all grown up in the same circumstances and are repeating what they've learnt as children. I can't help but feel a little sorry for them all, especially when they aren't looked at through the black and white lense of 'argh these people are the evil arseholes look at how they treat everyone around them, screw these guys.' When we see those little glimpses of humanity like Simon's anxiety with the amulet; looking to his master and father figure Schyler for reassurance, and what's sad is that Nat is "reminded...of his own master's cold impatience" It's clear Simon looks up to his master, wants to make him proud and loves him. But it seems like Schyler has just trained Simon up so he can get power through him later on. I love the little hints of similarities between Simon and Nathaniel; the anxious mannerisms like fiddling with his hair that Nathaniel starts to develop, the way their master's talk to them. Even though they're actively working against each other in AOS and Simon is placed firmly in the baddies category and Nat in the goodies category at this point in the series; these things always hinted to me they had similar childhoods, how was Simon treated? When he had the imp beat Nat into unconsciousness, was it because he'd had the same punishment used against him? Did he know the magicians in the room would do nothing to stop him because no one stopped it from happening to him? Did he ever have a teacher stand up for him only for it to change nothing in the end because all the negative influences were so much stronger? Is the reason he loves Schyler like a dad because he's almost developed Stockholm syndrome? It looks like love because he's never known anything else.

And Arthur Underwood- who doesn't think his upbringing, and being taken away from his family ever did him any harm- doesn't realise the harm done is that he doesn't even know another way of raising Nathaniel, because he was never shown another way. His childhood may also have been filled with people who hurt him and the people that didn't do enough to intervene.

There are so many psychology studies that show children copy everything they see the adults in their life doing. Nathaniel copies the magicians behaviour towards spirits and on a subconscious level I think he copies all the submissive people in his life. How many times does he end up upset and frustrated with the fact he seems to be going nowhere and how many times does he just hope things will be different rather than taking postive action.

I dislike the actions the magicians end up taking but I also find them fascinating to analyse. I tend to prefer villains in media because they're usually slightly more complex individuals and I love to think about how they ended up that way. They can all be seen as victims of their circumstances in a way, despite all the power and privilege they have had terrible and traumatic childhoods, and if the commoners had no valuable worldy possessions at least they had a sense of togetherness; of love and understanding and selflessness. I wonder if the magicians hated them at least partly because of that. Because out in the sea of faces of the commoners talking about nothing important, doing nothing great and noble- could be the parents that abandoned them. And when your life is on the line daily because of working with spirits, and your colleagues want to stab you in the back, sometimes not being responsible for anything important looks good. But you can't leave your life as a magician, it would be too difficult; you have nowhere to go, no real friends, no one who really loves you. So it's better to stay and be a submissive bystander in your own life because it's so much easier.

Doing nothing is doing something- being passive can be just as harmful.

[averyangrypossum]

Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the

Flowerbroadcast AU!

Based on the two drawings I did of a fankid for the ship radiostatic.

The full-body one

And the one with both Vox and her

And now, I’m gonna tell you all about it and exactly who the fuck this little kid is.

Lotus is the daughter of Vox (as you can tell) and Alastor and is six years old. She was created shortly after Vox and Al broke up, oh yeah I should probably talk about their relationship status. Vox and Alastor, unlike in canon, weren’t only close friends but were dating at some point, mostly because Alastor wanted to manipulate Vox’s feelings to where he’d be more compilable but accidentally took it too far, and since Vox is a piss baby Alastor decided to entertain Vox for a while.

Was this relationship healthy?

NO!

Would Vox say these were the best years of his afterlife?

Yeah.

But anyways, in this au when Vox asks Alastor to “join his team” he was actually proposing and Alastor finally realized,

“Shit maybe this has gone out of hand” and breaks it off with Vox which leaves Vox heartbroken and with an incel breakdown. Now instead of trying to move the fuck on, he has our little darling Lotus, who he has trying to fill the hole that Alastor left.

So obviously having a child for that reason isn’t going to make you a good parent.

Lotus’ relationship with the Vees are as follows in the particular order.

1 Velvette: She does Lotus’s hair everyday and picks out outfits for her to post on her social media before Lotus immediately undos everything that Velvette does and just goes for pigtails and her nightgown. Velvette has wine aunt energy and is probably the only one of the Vees to know how to talk and get through to Lotus.

2 Valentino: Surprising I know, but Lotus doesn’t know what he does to his workers, she knows what he does for work but grew up with thinking that was just something normal since Valentino was never hush hush about his job around her much to Vox’s dismay. Valentino isn’t a big fan of children and doesn’t hang around her often, but sometimes he’ll draw along side her while bitching about a particular show she’s watching even though it’s literally made for kids.

3 Vox: Wow, how bad do you have to fuck up for a pimp who hardly spends time with her to be ranked higher than her own father?? Vox, despite making the conscious decision to have her, he isn’t around like at all. Hes a workaholic through and through, and mostly leaves her with nannies and Velvette. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. Au contraire he loves her with all his heart and soul. Will give her anything except quality time. He uses her more of an accessory than a child.

Now how exactly Lotus was made is up to you.

A robotic creation Vox made? Sure!

Some voodoo magic shit? Yeah!

Some weird magic thing where she kinda just poofed into existence? Why not!

Mpreg? I mean, do what you wanna do ig?

Cuz it really doesn’t matter!

This whole au starts with Lotus running away from the Vee tower to explore hell since she's basically Rapunzel. She gets lost and terrorized by sinners until our deer Alastor rescues her. Seeing his chance to promote the hotel he takes her there where she is offered to stay there by Charlie when Lotus complains about how bad her dad is. She graciously accepts because shes only six but is going through her “My dad hates me and I hate him” era. Which I mean…I would get that impression too if I didn’t see my dad that much.

Wait my dad lives across the country…don't talk to me rn I’m busy dyeing my hair black and becoming emo 🖤

But anyways she stays there while Vox is loosing his fucking mind, and becoming more mentally unstable.

Meanwhile! She's having the time of her life with the hotel's residents and a new father figure who treats her well and pays attention to her! Alastor! Now Al doesn’t know she is his kid, but that doesn't stop him from being a better dad than Vox out of spite!

Anyways, thats all I have, for now! Stay tuned my friends~

[midnight-in-eden]

It’s the two-year anniversary of my official resignation from the Mormon Church! I thought I’d do a little post reviewing the journey.

In 2020, I moved out of my parents’ house to stay with friends who were nonreligious. At the time, I had no idea this would give me a little breathing room from the church to explore myself, especially combined with the pandemic. In fact, at the time, having to attend church via zoom and not having access to the sacrament (because I was assigned female at birth) was painful to me.

But it did give me breathing room. And in 2021, I felt able, for the first time, to come out as gay.

My nonreligious friends’ reaction was loving and accepting.

My parents’ and LDS friends’ reaction was about what you’d expect. Earthly trials, temptations, the “gay lifestyle”, Family Proclamation, law of chastity, etc.

But I loved the church. I clung to it.

Until August 2021, when Jeffrey Holland gave his infamous “musket fire” talk right after a lesbian newly couple was brutally shot and murdered in Utah.

One of the friends I was living with, a kind older woman, listened to me sobbing on her counter about it. She cut through my attempted explanations of how Elder Holland is normally so loving, how he gives talks about mental health, how he cares about people—

She cut through that, looked me in the eye, and said, “That’s hate speech. What he said in that talk is hate speech.”

I realized that I wouldn’t accept that kind of speech from anyone else.

I cried myself to sleep that night and woke up a complete nonbeliever: in Mormonism, in prophets, in priesthood, in Jesus, in God. What a traumatizing earthquake of an experience that was. But it had happened, and I could not undo it.

It took a long time to process everything. I remember crying with shame and nervousness the first time I tried to wear a tank top; I remember feeling so incredibly rebellious the first time I took a sip of coffee. I remember swearing feeling so, so wrong and taboo at first, but then one day I discovered it could feel powerful or cathartic or even playful. I remember being completely mortified by the first (very tame) sex scene I saw in a movie.

I read books on deconstruction, religious trauma, alternative spiritual paths, and practices (like secular meditation) that could fill that gap. I worked to reparent my inner child and undo the shame and fear that had been ground into me. I spent a lot of time in nature. I wrote my thoughts out, deliberately studying people I looked up to—real and fictional—figuring out which of their traits I found so important, what kind of person I wanted to be. I wrote down the values I’d been taught and tried to untangle what I agreed with, what I wanted to discard, and what new ideas I wanted to add. I dipped into church issues, both modern and historical, that had bothered me, and tried to process those issues as well (something I’m still doing, because I’m slow going when it comes to that).

The friend who had told me Holland’s talk was hate speech advised me to wait a year before officially resigning. She said it was best to make decisions like that with a settled mind. I’m glad she told me that, because I think if I’d done it impulsively in a time of high emotions, I might have questioned the decision when looking back.

I waited a year and then began looking into the process, because I was sure. It wasn’t impulsive; it wasn’t emotional; I was sure that the future I wanted was not a future in the Mormon church.

There are several options for resigning, which you can read about in detail on getmeofftherecords.com. I went with the option of sending a notarized letter to church headquarters. I began drafting my letter, starting with a basic template provided on that website. I fiddled around with the draft—I wasn’t completely sure what I wanted to focus on. Around this time, I heard about that horrible child sex abuse case in Arizona, and that clinched it. I don’t know if anyone even really reads these letters. If they do, I hope they thought about mine, even for a few seconds. I hope they thought about the fact they work for a church that spends money on lawyers and court fees to defend its right to hide child rape.

September 13, 2022, I got up early and went to go see the sun rise. (These pictures are from that day!) Then I stopped by the post office and mailed the letter. A few days later, confirmation from church headquarters came in the mail: I was officially no longer a member.

I’m still growing! After more self exploration, I realized I’m nonbinary. I’d consider myself an agnostic atheist but I’ve dipped into secular witchcraft, non-theistic paganism, soft animism, druidry, and other paths I’m curious about. It’s genuinely exciting to realize that my life and beliefs are 100% a choose-your-own-adventure project. I’ll never again be locked onto one path or limited to what someone else tells me to believe. That freedom, most of all, is what has made life outside Mormonism so much better and healthier for me.

[metal-mouse]

Dad!Ominis is the best fucking thing ever.

Crying, screaming rolling on the floor

What about Seb?

You know what, I have a lot of opinions about this one.

Under the cut because mentions of pregnancy and childbirth <3

I want to start this off by saying that Sebastian Sallow would be an amazing father.

When MC reveals they are pregnant, he goes on a roller coaster of emotions.

At first Sebastian would be over the damn moon that he's going to be a father. Like, MC has never seen him this happy in the entire time knowing him. He's excited, he gets started on a nursery right away, he tells the neighbours before you even have a chance to tell any family.

However, as the weeks go by the doubt starts to settle in.

Perhaps Sebastian doesn't deserve to be a father. Not with his past. Not with the things he has learned and the things he has done.

How could hands that have taken life hold new life? It seemed wrong. Sebastian was certain his touch would taint someone so new, innocent, and pure.

MC notices that Sebastian withdraws a little bit. He goes from constantly touching her belly and talking to his child, to just straight up avoiding her and avoiding talking about the baby.

Sebastian starts working more, taking on more cases and staying longer at the office in some attempt to buy his redemption. He had become an Auror to try and make up for what he'd done, and to try and prevent others from doing the same thing he did - why not try a little harder.

MC sits him down one night when he gets back from work very late and finally coaxes him into confessing his fears. MC reminds him that she too has killed, and she asks him if that would make her a bad mother. Sebastian is appalled at the notion, insistent that MC will be an amazing mother.

MC reminds him that the past is the past - it's not possible to undo what had been done - all she and Sebastian can do is learn from their mistakes and become the best people they possibly can. Sebastian is crying. He loves MC so freaking much.

Anne is happy for Sebastian. Five years after Solomon's death, the twins had spent a long time talking and had formed a tentative relationship again. Despite a lingering rift, the two were quite close again.

Or, if Anne has passed away, Sebastian visits her grave and lets her know she's going to be an Aunt.

He visits Solomon's grave as well.

Sebastian is convinced it's a girl. MC thinks it's a boy. They're both right. It's twins.

He reads to MC's belly, and MC is amazed that the baby always seems more active whenever Sebastian does so.

Cries the first time he feels the baby kick. It embarrasses him so much, but he's just so so so happy.

He'd be so obnoxious during the pregnancy, insistent that he'll do everything and MC should just sit there and look pretty and make their child. It drives MC insane, and it takes some sharp hexes to get him to relax a little bit.

Pre-parental panics like he's a sim in the Sims 4 when MC goes into labour.

Obviously they have twins. I'll play into that cliche so hard. A boy and a girl. Sebastian has a mini crisis over this. They name the twins after Sebastian's parents and Eleazar and Miriam Fig.

As they grow, the girl looks exactly like MC just with Sebastian's eyes and freckles. The boy is literally just Sebastian. MC wants to know where the hell her genetics went - until he gets an attitude and she understands that the poor boy has her temperament.

Sebastian is literally the most fun dad. He helps the twins play pranks on their unsuspecting mother. He takes them to Quidditch games all the time. He teaches them to fly on those mini-brooms.

He continues reading to them, this is something he does well into their early adulthood. The twins find it very relaxing.

Still has his doubts. Still has his bad days. Still is uncertain every step of the way, but he tries as best as he can - and to be honest, he's a wonderfully supportive and patient father.

I'm sorry but he's the stereotypical introduces himself to any of his daughter's male friends with a threat and always asks their intentions with his daughter.

Splits discipline with MC evenly, neither of them are the good parent/bad parent. Also helps with EVERYTHING. Often takes over and tells MC to go sleep because raising twins is a lot of work.

They're such a happy little family.

[wheels-of-despair]

Under Pressure | Eric x You vs. The Apocalypse | Series Masterlist

Chapter One: Through Gritted Teeth Summary: Once upon a time, in a miserable Midtown restaurant... you felt the need to rescue the brother-in-law you'd only just met. Words: 1.8k

Matricide. Patricide. What's the word for when you murder your father-in-law?

Justified. You're going to call it justified.

Two days ago, your nemesis - also known as Albert, the old Englishman that your husband calls Dad through gritted teeth - announced a stateside visit. Your other half immediately went into Panic Mode, scrubbing the apartment from top to bottom, even though he knows that his father would never stoop so low as to set foot in there. He went in for a haircut this morning. He had a meltdown because he couldn't find his favorite tie this afternoon. It's going to take you months to undo this hour-long visit.

Because this time, you've realized that your father-in-law can treat someone worse than he treats your husband.

"I'll be in New York for a day. You should let me tear you down over dinner. Also, your little brother has been living 10 minutes away from you for a month, and neither of us thought to mention it until now. He'll be joining us, probably against his will. Pip-pip, cheerio, and Bob's your uncle!"

That's how you imagine the phone call happened, anyway.

Fast-forward to a miserable dinner in a ritzy Midtown restaurant where you serve as buffer between a haughty father and his two disappointing sons. One, a doctor with an office wall full of framed accomplishments and a nice apartment and a wife who's not so bad, if you do say so yourself. The other, a law student who's sure to do great things. After all, he did get into one of the country's top law schools, didn't he? They're smart, they're motivated, and they're both reduced to anxious little boys in that old bastard's presence.

You've seen Eric standing awkwardly in old family photos, where everyone's in pressed suits and wearing their best fake smiles, but you've never actually met him before. He looks a little like your husband, you suppose. Especially with panic in his eyes and a hint of sweat on his forehead. Eric is the youngest of six. Evan, the one you landed, is son number five. The first four had been big, strapping rugby players in school; one even went pro. They sought fame and fortune, becoming workaholics and alcoholics and bringing home trophy wives and a slew of entitled grandchildren. It was a lot to live up to. No matter what the youngest two did, they always seemed to fall short of their father's expectations.

"So Eric, how are you liking school so far?" you ask, after counting out sixty seconds of tense silence. The boy pleads with his big brown eyes, and you feel awful for thrusting him into the spotlight. In your defense, the first half-hour of sitting at this table had involved your husband listing every miracle he'd performed in the hospital during the last year. His father remained unimpressed. You figured it was time to switch gears. Share the load. Spread the misery.

"S'alright, I guess," he says quietly, giving you a sad attempt at a smile. You appreciate the effort anyway.

"It had better be more than alright," the old man scoffs for the umpteenth time tonight, "with what I had to pay to get him in. Evan, his grades made yours look impressive."

Evan smiles politely in acknowledgement of the back-handed compliment. Eric squirms in his seat, looking like he'd love for a sinkhole to open up and swallow him whole. You've seen your husband react the same way. What is this power the old man has over these poor boys, and how can you take it away from him?

"You're just getting started," you smile, ignoring the old man. "You'll settle in and find your groove, and everything will fall into place. Just give it time."

Eric puts a little more effort into this smile.

Albert's cell phone rings, and he answers it at the table. Rude, yes. But his sons are as grateful for the distraction as he is. The three of you eat quietly while the old man prattles on about something you don't care about, and it's the most relaxing part of this stressful evening. A waiter stops to drop off dessert menus as the old man ends his call.

"Do you think you've earned dessert?" he asks pointedly. Both of his sons put down their menus. If you weren't so eager to get the hell out of here, you'd order something massive, so you'd have to enlist the boys' help in eating it. But you drop your menu as well, because you're ready to go home and start building your husband's self-esteem back up. And possibly dig into a pint of ice cream.

"Let me just get the check," your father-in-law insists, waving for the waiter.

"No, Dad, let me," Evan argues, reaching for his wallet.

You hate the Let Me Pay Dance. It's the same every time. If the old man gets to the check first, the husband feels like a child who can't provide for himself. If the husband does, the old man accuses him of being a show-off. There is no winner here.

"If you insist," Albert says. Everyone freezes. You've been watching them play this game for years, and this has never happened before. "At least I have one son who offered."

Eric's face burns scarlet. This poor fucking kid. You glance at Evan, who meets your eye in surprise. He grapples with his wallet and gets his credit card out as the waiter approaches. Albert stares down his nose at Eric, who looks like he's seconds away from crying.

"Is it hot in here?" you ask, fanning yourself. Three pairs of eyes land on you.

"Are you alright?" Evan asks. You shoot him a look that you hope he understands.

"I think I need some fresh air. Eric, would you walk me outside?"

Eric stands without a word and helps you out of your chair. He even thinks to grab your purse. You pretend not to notice how he fumbles and nearly drops it.

"Take your time," you smile, touching Evan's shoulder as you walk away. You wish you didn't feel like such a traitor for leaving your husband alone with his father, but you have to get this kid out of there before he gives the old man more ammo.

Eric guides you through the labyrinth of tables, and by the time you reach the door, you're genuinely happy to be out of the crowded restaurant. You sit on the steps, off to the side so you're out of the way. The summer has just turned to autumn, and the cool breeze feels wonderful after months of stifling heat.

Eric takes off his brown suit jacket and drapes it over your shoulders anyway.

"Thank you," you whisper. He nods his head in acknowledgement, then sits next to you on the steps. You stare out at the traffic together in silence for a moment.

"Are you alright?" he asks quietly.

"I'm fine," you answer. "Are you?"

He looks at you blankly.

"Dinner with your father is always an experience," you wink. Eric stares down at the concrete in front of him, probably afraid to respond. "What do you think of the city?" you ask, hoping to get his mind off of the evening he's just suffered through.

"It's… different," he says. "Different than I thought it would be."

"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?"

Eric shrugs, picking at a piece of fuzz on his pants. He looks so dejected, it makes your heart ache. At least Evan has someone to pick up the pieces and put him back together after his father rips him to shreds. Who does Eric have?

You glance back toward the door. They'll probably come out soon. You reach into your purse and extract a notepad, scribble some necessary information on it, and rip out the page. You hold it out to Eric, who stares at it for a second before taking it.

"Our numbers and address," you clarify. "If you ever need anything, just let us know."

"Thank you," he whispers, not taking his eyes off of the paper.

"I mean it," you smile. "I know what it's like to feel alone in a strange city. If you ever need anything at all, we'll be there."

"Thank you," he says again, looking at you with watery eyes. Did you overstep? Did you make it weird?

"Feeling better?" Evan calls, holding the door for his father. Eric blinks back his tears and stands with his back to them.

"Much," you answer. Eric reaches down to help you up, standing on the step below to make sure you don't fall. What a gentleman. You return his jacket, give his shoulder a light squeeze as thanks, then walk to your husband. Eric slowly follows.

"Well, it's been great catching up, but I have a few things to take care of before my return flight," your father-in-law says, glancing at his watch. He shakes Evan's hand, gives you a nod, and Eric a pointed stare. And then he whirls around and disappears into the night.

"Nobody touch me, if I'm subjected to any more affection tonight, I may not survive," you deadpan.

Two mouths quirk into very similar smirks.

"I should get going, too," Eric mumbles. "It was nice to meet you," he says to you, followed by a "Thank you for dinner" to Evan.

"You're welcome," Evan says politely. "Take care."

"You too." Eric gives you a nod, appears to hesitate briefly, then turns. You look from one brother to the other and roll your eyes.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," you groan, grabbing the back of Eric's suit jacket. He freezes, then looks back at you in surprise. "C'mere," you order, pulling him in for a hug. It's tense for a second, but he doesn't protest. You feel him relax, and maybe even chuckle? When you release him, he has a shy smile on his face.

"You take care of yourself," you order, hands on his shoulders. " And call us if you need anything. Okay?"

"Okay," he grins.

"Now you may go," you inform him. Still grinning, he gives you an awkward wave and turns to leave again. This time, you let him. You wait 'til he rounds the corner, then look to your husband. You can't quite decode the expression on his face. Amusement? Curiosity? You decide to tackle it with humor.

"Dear Diary," you tease. "Tonight, my father finally let me pay for dinner. It was the best day of my life!"

"Shut up," he laughs, putting an arm around your shoulders and steering you toward home.

[pudding-parade]

Questions for CAW users…

…because I know a couple of you follow me.

EDIT: So, not being able to place objects is solved, because I'm an idiot who didn't realize that you have to double-click things in order to place them. However, I still have the issue of not being able to open Edit In Game. This isn't as much of a big deal to me, though, because mostly what I wanted was to place/replace objects in an existing world and to be able to move them vertically. But still, it'd be nice to get that working, in case I ever decide to make a world from scratch, so if anyone has any ideas...

I'm fiddling around in CAW, have watched some tutorials on YouTube, and I've realized that something is messed up. Goes like this:

I can open up an existing world in CAW (using a process I found online), and everything appears in it just fine. I can move/remove existing objects in it. I can sculpt the terrain and add/edit roads. I can add lots. But, I can't add any new objects. I also can't open "Edit in Game." When I try, I get "Unable to find installed version of The Sims 3 base game." I get the message when trying to edit an "imported" world and when I just started a new, blank world to see if it would work. Obviously, I have the base game (and every other EP/SP) installed. Equally obviously, CAW is seeing the stuff in my game somehow because existing worlds imported into CAW seem to appear fine. But, it doesn't appear to be able to find objects (like trees and such) to add them. So I'm thinking this is perhaps because my current game install is Arr'ed and cracked? Or possibly because I've bypassed the launcher? I dunno.

Now, I could un-bypass my launcher if that's the issue, though 1) I don't really want to and 2) I forgot how I did it, so I'd have to re-figure that out before I can possibly undo it. Or, I could reinstall my legit game, except that I never downloaded the EA App thing. (I went Arrr! to avoid that and because my Origin install was unreliable.) It would be a ton of work (and take several days just to redownload everything) just to screw around in CAW, but I might be willing to do it. Might. However, I've also read online reports of CAW not liking the EA App, though the posts were from a year or so ago, so maybe it's been fixed now.

But before I decide whether or not it's worth screwing around with all this to see if I can get it working just to be able to edit one stupid world, I'd first like to know if anyone else who uses CAW also has an Arr'ed install and/or has bypassed the launcher and had this problem or if it's just me? And, if anyone has had the same sort of issue, were you able to fix it without taking drastic measures? And, if so, how?

[cocktailjjrs]

So, Chapter 112 is out.

We don't exactly get much of explanation or distinction from S5 ending ep.

Mori, he really just glued in the fangs for FUN! What even is the Mafia! (Plus, Dazai Laughed!) We had old man Yaoi. I am not going to talk about it as we already know what went down there. We got Kunikida, Atsushi and Tanizaki. And Gogol man being sad (it broke my heart again to see his reaction). Ngl, even i would be sad if someone killed my Situationship But not Chuuya calling out that Situationship, lol (That was my exact reaction when a friend of mine told me she was in one and how it works) SKK bickering, still. And Fukuzawa being handed the greatest responsibility.

All in all, everything we had seen so far, only an added reaction here and there.

Next chapter will most likely also follow through the rest of the episode. But nothing much is left, so chances are that we may get new content. Or latest by April.

This all seems well and good, but I'm suddenly feeling anxious about how things are going to progress further.

I've said time and again, BSD takes 'it can't get worse than this' phase and just proves it wrong again and again. We reach new rock-bottoms every time.

So, things looking up now, gives me anxiety that something is going to go horribly wrong. (Cue the flashback of the 'Two hours later' bit)

All things that can horribly go wrong:

Everything with Soukoku at Meursault. I find it so weird that we are not getting detailed explanation of how things are proceeding there. We have seen Dazai and Fyodor play mind games for so many arcs now, there is always an explanation at the end of each one. But this doesn't have that 'satisfactory' level of explanation yet. Yes, Chuuya again came to Dazai's aid, but how? How did Dazai knew that the Vampires were turned in his favor. Would killing Fyodor (if he actually is dead) really be wise? How is he sure that it was Fyodor plan all along to get killed and he played right into it? You know when things are kept ambiguous, as most things related to Prison break arc are, it means there will be some facts that will come in light later. And that's what I'm scared of because it can be anything! It does not help that Dazai is yet to take that antidote! What if it doesn't work? What is Nikolai goes for revenge? Since he love's loosing himself and that's why he fought, so what if he continues? Can Chuuya's gravity manipulation even be effective against someone like Gogol? He can just go from one place to another, dodge all of Chuuya's attacks. We also know he can use his ability with Dazai as long as he isn't touching him. What is he takes the antidote form the case before Dazai can take it? That makes him such a kryptonite for Soukoku.

Then we have,

The Shin soukoku's battle against whatever that (Fukuchi) was. Two hours, if you think about it is not a long duration of time for things to start fucking up suddenly. There must be something already laid in waiting for it to start going shit when time comes. We are yet to get the details of how the Vampirism is going to wear off. Because it does, Akutagawa was back to normal when he was fighting with Atsushi. Sskk teaming up is well and good, but can they stand against that being? They had a hard time dealing with Fukuchi only a while ago, this enhanced being will be much tougher than them. What if this also is set for failure? only for the world to be purged into more chaos? Maybe i'm being a bit to pessimistic, but i've lost confidence in the mangaka's they always do the unexpected and kill everyone's favs, fr.

That also makes me think

Will taking on the role of Mankind's leader, lead to Fukuzawa on a deeper end? We know he struggled earlier, before founding agency, with his assassination work. He had refused to work in the war for a reason. Won't this be undoing everything he's worked for so many years? Also, taking in that honor from their government (or officials, i don't exactly remember what it was. I'm talking about the appreciation symbol of katana'?' they received at the beginning of S4) that basically led them to take on that case that declared them terrorists. Won't taking the role of Mankind's Leader also make Fukuzawa susceptible to be declared as the Mankind's Enemy? This seems similar to that previous situation. Reminds me of how Ranpo called this responsibility, or last wish, a curse. And Ranpo is always right, so there's that. Maybe that's how they are going to introduce the next adversaries?

Too much uncertainty and what-ifs.

[propertyofwhitney67]

House Party

Whitney the Bully x Reader

Words: 828

Warnings: Implied past sexual assault

Note: I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a while, it’s been stuck in my head more lately and my maladaptive daydreaming of characters comforting me hasn’t been enough. It was years ago but every once in a while the thoughts just don’t go away.

The music was muffled through the wall of one of the many bedrooms at this house party. I don’t know whose house it is, Whitney dragged me along with his gang of friends to it. With a bit of drink in me I let Whitney drag me upstairs where we are now.

He picked me up and sat me on his lap and started to kiss me hungrily, I kissed him back just as eagerly. He began to grope my chest while I ran my hands through his hair. The door swung open and without missing a beat Whitney yelled, “Fuck off!” and started to kiss me again. I heard mumbling then the door close. I laughed into the kiss, letting him slip his tongue into my mouth.

Before I knew it I was basically naked and he was on top of me. He broke the kiss, took off his shirt and went to undo his belt. The clanking sound of the metal sent me into a panic. I tried to get out from under him and in my panic I pushed him hard back onto the bed. 

I jumped off and ran into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door and locking it. I held my knees to my chest and tried to calm myself. Breathe in and out. In and out. A bang on the door caused me to jump, “What the fuck slut?” He sounded angry with a hint of something else I couldn't place in my terrified state.

“Go away…please just go away…” I mumbled while hugging myself on the cold floor. I don’t want to, please don’t. 

Everything came back from that night. The drinking, the smoking, the smell of his detergent, and the godawful sound of his belt. How naive I was. He acted so nice, I should have known it was a ruse. I was just a new toy for him to play with, to damage. 

I heard a thump on the other side of the door as Whitney sat down and leaned against it, “...What happened?” I didn't answer, only letting out a few sobs. He sighed, “I won't hurt you. I’m not that kind of piece of shit Y/n.” He used to be, but not anymore. He had truly grown to care for you, he just didn’t show it very well.

I spoke incoherently through my sobbing, “I’m-I’m…I-I…” I tried to regulate my breathing again to no avail.

“Can I come in?” He asked in a surprisingly soft voice. I shook as I stood up and unlocked the door. I quickly went to the other side of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. 

He opened the door slowly and made his way to me but stopped short, not wanting to scare me more. He threw his shirt at me and gestured for me to put it on. I didn’t say anything and did as he wanted. He was silent, trying to think of something to comfort me, “Do you want to talk about it?” I shook my head furiously. “Ok…do you want to go back into the room?” I thought it over and nodded. He held out his hand and helped me up then led me back into the room.

I suddenly felt embarrassed and put my head in my hands. I can’t believe I let myself panic like that. Whitney would never do that to me, “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, just tell me who I have to kill for touching you.”

I shook my head, not wanting to say his name. It was so long ago at this point, but the name still instilled fear in me. “Doesn’t matter, he graduated a few years ago. I’m sure he’s left town by now.”

He patted the bed beside him and without thinking I sat beside him. He put his arm around me in an attempt to comfort me, “Sick fucks like that don’t leave this town, they thrive here.” I sniffled and leaned into him but he pulled away and held my hands up to my ears. I looked at him in confusion, “Just do it.” I nodded and covered my ears. 

He stood up and took off his belt and threw it to the other side of the room. I uncovered my ears as he laid on the bed and patted beside him again. I crawled up to him and rested my head on his chest as he held me close. “I’m sorry I ruined the moment…” I mumbled after a while. I already apologized, but I still felt bad about it.

“I can fuck you another night slut. Just want you to be ok.” He said quietly while petting my hair. I smiled and looked up at him, he leaned in and kissed me. It was short but filled with emotion. “Rest, I’ll stay up.” I smiled at him again and laid back down on his chest and fell into a peaceful sleep.

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

[the-demonus-aunt]

TW: SA

If you write for the datables can I request the dateables version of telling them that you were r@ped in the past? No pressure ofc

Hi, so sorry it took me so long!

I really hope you're doing okay! I gave it my best shot. As I said in the brothers' version: Please tell me if I wrote something upsetting!

I don't write for Luke or the new characters (I'm only on S3), but I hope the rest of them bring you comfort ♡

Solomon

Silence. Long uncomfortable silence. Did he even hear you?

He's a bit confused. In his eternal life, of course, he has met people like you before. People who had to deal with things they simply don't deserve. So why is he reacting so...intensely?

Rage. Sadness. Helplessness. Frustration. The swirl of emotions that's taking him over is so foreign to him.

When he finally looks up, lifts his eyes to your confused face, he knows he's going to do something completely irresponsible.

But now's not the time. Now he should be there for you.

He gets up to prepare a potion. What kind he doesn't know - one to help forget? One to cleanse your soul? One to make you feel cosy and protected?

He starts a batch of each, fidgeting around without being able to think clearly

You literally have to tell him to stop, so that he notices that he forgot to actually react and comfort you

The firmest hug you have ever received ensues.

"I want to help. What can I do, MC? What can I do to make it better?"

Simeon

The angel has always struggled with the dichotomy of his nature and the violent thoughts that sometimes find their way into his head

By now, he's able to switch them off at will. They'll haunt him at a later point in time, but for now, your needs are all he sees

He'll take your face into his hands and wipe away the tears with a simple swipe of his thumb

He'll stare into your eyes until you can physically feel the love he holds for you

There's only you and him and comfort

It'll take years before he can stop randomly baking for you, randomly hugging you, obsessively telling you how lovable you are, just to show you how much you mean

"You're everything to me, so you deserve the world. Forget those who treated you badly. I will erase them from your mind."

Diavolo

The Prince might be a big himbo but he isn't stupid.

As the ruler of demons, he knows exactly what people are capable of. And yet, everytime he hears about the cruelty in the world, he just can't comprehend: how? Why?

It pains him so much that you, too, had to experience something like this.

For a second, he considers asking Barbatos to undo it. Make your past go away. Of course, he immediately realises that that's not what his butler can do at all. He does not erase the past. He can only switch timeliness.

So...what then? How does he make it go away?

He never stops wondering. But he does settle for protecting you as well as he possibly can. For being there for you when you need him. For doing better than the person that made you feel this way.

"I can't undo what happened. But I will make sure you will never know pain like that again. Please rely on me."

Barbatos

You can see how hard he has to swallow. How his fist cramps.

You can see the exact moment he decides that he will start checking on every second of your future. Of your safety.

Of course, you don't know that that's what you're seeing. You only know that a creepy kind of determination spreads across his face.

You have earned yourself a bodyguard. He is definitely overdoing it.

It's hard to convince him he's doing more damage than he's helping. But eventually, he understands.

That will not stop him from asking Solomon for protection amulets. From preparing you cursed desserts that make you feel warm and safe and tingly on the inside.

Also, did he start touching you more? Not inappropriately. Just his fingers grazing yours. His arm around you when you're standing next to each other.

"I'm here. Whatever you need, I'm here."

[cheerycherrycandy-resurrected]

What You've Done, You Cannot Undo (Medieval AU)

Chapter 2

The story begins. Rain is troubled by memories from his past, but he's starting to find his feet with his new pack.

Rating: T Content: flashbacks, dew is mean (he's just troubled, your honour) Words: 2534

Link to full fic with associated tags: Tumblr | AO3

Read below, or on AO3!

Rain stared, stricken, at the beautiful water ghoulette in front of him. The coastal breeze rippled through her dark hair, wafting her salty, driftwood scent in his direction. The sneer on her face soured it, as did the acrid, burning smell emanating from the fire ghoul with his arms possessively wrapped around her.

“Wake up, Rain,” she scoffed, “why would I love a useless ghoul like you?”

Rain jolted awake, heart pounding. The air around him felt too warm, suffocating him, and the reason soon became apparent as a mocking chuckle echoed from the fire ghoul in the doorway.

“Wake up, Rain,” Dewdrop sneered, “some of us actually have work to do. We can’t all lie around in bed and get fawned over by Mountain and Swiss all day.” Turning on his heel, he flounced out of the room.

Rain flopped back against his pillows, all comfort lost to the artificially hot and humid air Dew had woken him with. He had been with the pack for almost a year now, and the small fire ghoul still hadn't fully accepted him.

~~~~~~~

At first, Rain had tried so hard to fit in with the ghouls who had given him everything when he had nothing. When Aether had opened the door to him that rainy summer’s night, he had instantly recognised the appearance of a fellow glamoured ghoul. The purple eyes said quintessence, yet the dwelling smelled of earth, fire, and even faintly of water and air.

Wary of finding himself thrown into a hostile ghoul pack, Rain had tried to make himself as small and unthreatening as possible. He needn't have worried: Aether had welcomed him in with open arms and a gentle smile, and Mountain had offered him food as though they were pack already.

Dew was a different matter, however. Rain had smelled him before he saw him; the smoky scent of an unhappy fire ghoul had kept Rain on edge, but the undercurrent of burnt seaweed intrigued him. As Swiss settled him for the night in front of a warm fire in the kitchen, Rain had heard a whispered conversation just outside the room.

“What are we meant to do with a water ghoul? There's enough of us here to be suspicious already, Aeth!”

"What else was I meant to do? He's practically still a kit, poor thing.”

“Exactly! He's young, his magic will be unstable. If he blows our cover we could lose everything we've worked for here. We can't just start taking in strays because you feel sorry for them.”

“Dew!” the deeper voice, Rain realised it was Aether, hissed. “He's still a scared ghoul away from his pack. He's in danger every minute he's around humans.” His voice turned cold. “Besides, you are in no position to call him a stray, remember how we found you?”

A set of light footsteps had retreated sullenly up the stairs, before Aether reappeared in the kitchen to wish Rain a good night. Rain had slept better that night than he had in months.

The next morning, Rain had been woken by Mountain making breakfast. He had been quickly accepted by him, Swiss and Aether, although Dewdrop had remained aloof. After several weeks of his new life, Rain had settled into his room at the far end of the farmhouse, learned how to help Mountain farm the land, and otherwise support his new pack. He had grown in confidence too, no longer scared of the villagers who had found him, or of wandering the countryside alone.

One sunny afternoon, Rain had decided to go fishing in the small creek that ran alongside the village, part of the same stream he had first been found drinking from. Catching fish was one of the few skills he possessed prior to his new life, and probably what had saved his life when he was on his own.

Rain had quickly noticed that Dewdrop always smelled faintly of seaweed and the ocean, so he assumed the fire ghoul must have some connection to water that he wasn't aware of. He knew nothing of Dew's history, he hadn't spoken about anything prior to living with Mountain and Aether in the weeks since Rain had arrived. In water ghoul culture, presenting a more senior ghoul with freshly caught fish was a symbol of goodwill and submission; Rain hoped Dewdrop would appreciate the gesture and begin to accept him.

The path to the stream was familiar to Rain already, the earth well-trodden as he picked his way down to the rocky patch he liked to position himself on, with a clear view into the water. Rain sat very still, poised on his haunches waiting for a fish to swim past. The water here was crystal clear, and combined with Rain's ghoulish eyesight he spotted his first catch in no time. With deadly precision, he lunged forward with both hands and snatched the fish clean out of the water. He chittered happily to himself, and quickly dispatched the fish with the swipe of a sharp claw, before setting it aside and resuming his position looming over the water. In a short while, Rain had accumulated a decent sized pile of fish beside him, a generous offering by any water ghoul's standard.

Proudly, he gathered up his catch and returned to the farmhouse. Entering the open kitchen door, he found Mountain and Dew sat at the table over cups of tea. Dew's nose twitched as he entered, although his eyes remained glued on his mug. With a chirp and a toothy grin, Rain held out his peace offering,

“I brought you some fish.” he smiled with a tilt of his head.

Dew looked up at him from under a single raised eyebrow.

“Why the fuck would I want a load of smelly fish? I'm not a water ghoul.”

Rain's face fell, hurt by Dew's derision of his gift. Luckily, Mountain quickly swooped in and took the fish from Rain, steering him gently in the direction of the counter and away from Dewdrop.

“Freshwater trout! That's wonderful Rain, trout is Swiss's favourite!”

Rain forced a weak smile, disappointed that once again, Dewdrop had failed to accept him.

Sure enough, when Swiss returned home he had been delighted. His rumbling purrs as he sat down between Rain and Mountain's vacant seat had made Rain feel slightly better despite his mission's failure. Dew glowered across the table at them as Mountain placed the pan of grilled fish in the centre.

“This is dinner Firefly, eat it or don't.” Aether had said sternly.

Dew had eaten it, licking clean every last morsel from the bones.

~~~~~~~

The smell of warm bread tickled Rain's nostrils, encouraging him out of bed. He wasn't lazy, but Dew had managed to strike a nerve, as always. He knew he didn't pull his weight as much as Aether or Mountain. They'd been here so long, and the village trusted them so much, it was impossible to compete. Rain's connection to his magic was still shaky: he could usually pull water to or from a field, but couldn't summon or banish it reliably. Still, he would often follow Mountain and assist him when farmers called for his help – even if his magic wasn't needed, a strong pair of arms was always welcome.

Curling his toes into the sheepskin rug beneath his bed, Rain stretched the sleep from his long body, groaning as his spine popped. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the frill of his gills, they stood out against his blue-tinted skin in the mirror where his shirt rode up with the stretch. He would have to work on keeping his glamour up in his sleep at some point, it wouldn't do to have it fade away when around humans if his concentration lapsed.

Once he was dressed, Rain made his way to the kitchen. Swiss’s fresh bread, the source of the wonderful smell throughout the house, was cooling on the counter, flour still dusting the ghoul’s clothes and hair. Mountain was stood at the stove minding a pan of eggs, and chittered a good morning at Rain. As Rain fell into his usual seat at the table, Swiss placed a cup of tea in front of him, nuzzling his head between his horns with a purr in greeting.

“Mornin’.” yawned Rain. “Where’s Aether? It’s not like him to miss Mount’s breakfast.”

“Out on a job”, replied Swiss, sitting down beside him with his own steaming mug, “Old Mrs Nesbit’s hip is acting up again, her son asked me last night if Aeth could drop round first thing.”

That was something to be said for Swiss haunting the tavern most nights: as well as getting work of his own from villagers there, he acted as a calling card for all of the ghouls.

“Got an elemental job for you too, if you’re interested?”

Rain looked at him is mild disbelief.

“Me?” Rain was rarely asked for, he usually just followed his packmates when they were summoned, and collected workhand day-wages.

“Yup!” Swiss popped the p, sounding very pleased with himself. “Farmer Wilkins asked for one of my stories last night, and I happened to drop in the dry spell I saw coming next week.”

Swiss had near-perfect predictive powers over the weather, it was one of the things that the townsfolk asked his advice on the most. There hadn’t been a single wedding party rained on since his arrival. He had told the pack about the next few dry weeks a while ago, and in recent days Rain had been working with him to ensure their own fields had sufficient moisture to survive until the next rainfall. Rain only wished he had enough control over his element to create the rain himself. He was still young, his power was still developing, but it felt like he was failing as a water ghoul each time he had to resort to pulling water from the streams around the village instead of from the ground and air itself.

“I mentioned that you’d been “blessing” our fields this week, he’s asked if you could do the same for him. Just wave your hands around a bit and get the ground wet enough for his crops to last until harvest ‘kay? Talk the same spiritual mumbo-jumbo you’ve seen me and Mount spout, the humans love that shit.”

Rain nodded hesitantly. This would be his first real task without Mountain or Swiss to help; if this went well, that would finally show Dew that he was capable of pulling his weight around here. He sipped his tea, letting the warmth rejuvenate his confidence and melt away the lingering ice in his veins from the dream.

~~~~~~~

Even though it had been well over a year since he left that world behind, that specific dream kept haunting him. Having to relive the moment his whole life fell down around his ears, when his childhood sweetheart humiliated him and left him for a fire ghoul, every time he closed his eyes.

She had been his only real friend growing up. Rain’s shyer personality was at odds with the very sociable culture of water ghouls; the only one in his sibling pod who hadn’t thrived from the moment they grew their baby fins. She was pretty and popular, but she made Rain feel special. She’d always said that she liked his quiet demeanour, that it would be them together against the rest of the world. They had been young, but not uncommonly so to settle down, and in love. Their whispered discussions of a future together were held deep into the night where curious ears could not hear.

All that came crashing down the day she had swanned into the village with the loudest and brashest fire ghoul he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. She had been away on a trip with her family, the pair declaring how they hated being separated from each other, even for a short time. The night she returned was the night Rain planned to officially ask her to be his mate. He had been hunting for her favourite fish, for some of the rarest delicacies the sea could provide them. He had collected and braided her a blanket of the softest kelp, a classic mating gift, and set everything up on “their” rock overlooking the ocean. They had arranged to meet there on her return, sealing the plan with a farewell kiss.

Her return with the fire ghoul had ruined everything: she had brought him to their spot, and finding Rain there they had laughed at his offerings, ridiculing him as pathetic in front of the small crowd that had followed them in interest. Rain’s world had shattered around him, his safe space invade by stares and jeers, his life reduced to the village joke.

When Rain could take it no longer, he had left. His journey inland was lonely and fraught with danger, and left him exhausted. Surviving on raw fish and water wasn’t sufficient, her face haunted him during the little sleep he got, and as he became more malnourished and isolated he felt his mind beginning to fray at the seams. Being discovered and taken in by his new pack had undoubtedly saved his life. His place in his own clan had vanished, and the only hurdle left now in his new one seemed to be Dewdrop. He had to make this work.

~~~~~~~

Mountain placed the pan of eggs on the table in front of Rain, snapping him out of his daze.

“You alright Tadpole? You zoned out for a while there.” He looked at Rain in concern.

“Yeah… Didn’t sleep too well, that’s all.” Rain offered a weak smile, and hoped it was convincing. He felt Swiss’s eyes boring into the side of his head, but ignored him in favour of sipping on his tea.

Dew reappeared just as Mountain was serving some eggs onto the plate left in his spot, thankfully attracting attention away from Rain. He quietly nibbled on his portion, observing their conversation but not hearing it.

“Rain.”

“Rainy!” A small nudge in the ribs from Swiss followed as he repeated himself. “Did you hear me? Are you really sure you’re good to go alone, it could wait until another day if you’re tired?”

“Aww,” sneered Dew, “does Rainy need his hand holding?”

“Dewdrop!” Mountain snapped. “That’s uncalled for.”

“Well I’m sorry I can’t be perfect like Rain!” Dew spat back, his chair screeching out from the table, as he stormed back out the door. As he left, plate still in hand, the burners on the stove flared angrily.

Seeing the apologetic gazes directed his way, Rain also stood up, took a deep breath, and set his shoulders back. He knew deep down that Dew was wrong about him, he wasn’t a baby who needed coddling, but damn was he good at making him feel that way. Today was the perfect chance to prove himself, to show that he wasn’t dead weight.

“Rain–” Mountain started, but Rain cut him off.

“I’ll be back for lunch.” he stated simply, forcing a smile as he headed for the door.