#I checked out who won then but didn't have time to actually sit down and watch the winning performances or write this up

[eurovision-del]

I’ve finally had a chance to catch up with the national final winners from Saturday! Honestly, neither result really went my way. Firstly, Taya Dora won in Serbia and will represent them with Ramonda. She’s a fantastic singer, and I really liked the dark aesthetic of the staging, it’s a concept that’s very Eurovision-ready. The song also is unlike anything else we’ve got in the lineup this year, and I think it is a good song… I’m just not quite getting it yet. I want to like it, and maybe now I’ll have space to properly get familiar with it as its own song outside of PzE it will grow on me, but I had so many other songs I preferred in Serbia’s selection. I do think it’s a good choice for Serbia though, looking at the contest as a whole.

As for Iceland, while I like Hera Björk, I’m not keen on Scared of Heights as a song. It sounds to me like it could have been a B-side to her previous Eurovision entry, and it’s more ‘dated’ than ‘throwback’. I also found her performance a little lacking, I don’t know, I just needed more energy, either from her or her backing singers, or at least for the staging and lighting to be more dynamic. Her voice however is great, rich and powerful, she didn’t hold back on vocals! Even despite my delay getting my thoughts out, my understanding is that Iceland still haven’t confirmed if they’re going to Eurovision or not this year. If they do, I hope they rework the staging, bring a bit more ‘oomph’ to it to really highlight the positive energy of the song, but I feel this risks being a non-qualifier.

[wosoamazing]

Barça v Arsenal

Summary: Based on a request I can’t find, someone wanted a Barça x Arsenal match for the series.

Warnings: Start of a panic attack but doesn't actually happen. Mentions of pregnancy and I guess morning sickness

A/N: Match is fake obviously - trying to find some happiness in Lia’s injury….. Also it’s quite short and not the best but at least it is something.

You were pacing the length of the locker room, trying to shake the fact that you were about to verse your third family, Arsenal, with the hopes of pummeling them. “Can you stop you’re making me nervous,” someone commented, you were too in your head to know who it was, “no,” you bluntly replied while still pacing, you felt the fear start to rise though as your heart rate increased ever so slightly and it was becoming slightly harder to breath.

“Okay everyone it’s probably time to warm up, Y/N/N and I will meet you all out there” Alexia instructed the team.

“Bebita,” she waited but didn’t get a response, “Y/N/N it’s going to be okay,” “but what if its not, we have to beat them, I have-” you were stopped by Alexia who pulled you in for a hug, “Stop rambling, you will be fine. You are amazing, you’re going to show them all up, Sì?” “Sì”

_____

The game is going well, well better that well. Barça is 6 goals up and there is still 30 mins left in the game, you won a 1v1 with Leah and smirked at her “Guess I am the better Williamson now,” “We’ll see about that”

In the 89th minute you had a perfect opportunity, you kicked the ball, and it went through Leah’s legs before it found the back of the net.

“You just nutmegged me” you just shrugged as you walked away, “oh what don't even celebrate goals now?” “Nah score to many of them,” you smirk back to your sister, before the ref blew the whistle. 

At that moment Leah really expected you to go to her first, she was just right there and you hadn’t seen each other in so long, but you didn't you sprinted over to Alexia and sprung into her arms, she caught you with ease, like it was something that you do often, spinning you around before she put you down.

Lia walked over to stand behind your sister who was standing with Beth, Steph, and Viv, she was looking over at you though. Lia wrapped her arms around Leah’s waist, before whispering something to her, “She’ll come over, just give her a moment, and it’s good she isn’t coming over straight away, it means she really does like it there, I mean look at them all.” Leah nodded, she knew her girlfriend was right, but she still couldn’t help the feeling that she had been replaced by Alexia.

“Brace for impact” Leah looked at Steph as she saw you running over, you jumped up on Steph.

“I think you’re getting too big for that now,” “Nah, I’m not even an adult yet.” You wake around to Leah and she wrapped her arms around you. “I missed you,” “I missed you too bug, but we get to spend tonight and tomorrow together,” you nodded, before turning around in her arms, so you could face the others.

“You were amazing today,” Steph said “Thanks, I miss you all.” “We miss you too, you know-” “Shit kid you’re insane, you literally are amazing” Katie said as she ran over to join you all. 

“I’m just going to go check on Lia, you keep talking, I’ll come get you when it’s time to leave” Your sister told you quietly, you nodded before you looked over to see Lia, she was heading down the tunnel.

_____

“Y/N, ready to go?” Leah eyes you up and down, “Um, I’ll have a shower at home,” You had been so busy talking to everyone you hadn’t had time to have a shower and change.

“Okay, Lia is already in the car, so just meet us there, because I’m assuming you have to go return someone” she gestured to Harper who you had held in your arms, you nodded before going your separate ways, you followed Mini and Kyra to their car and put Harper in her carseat, before walking over to to where Leah and Lia were sitting in the car. As you opened the door you noticed Lia looked a little pale and almost as if she had been crying. She held onto her water bottle tightly. You were slightly confused, as she seemed fine earlier, but maybe it was due to whatever injury she had.

“You know bug, you would be a fantastic aunt,” Leah let slip as she started the car.

“Huh,” you saw Lia give your sister a mixed look, you weren't really sure what it was communicating, but you figured out pretty quickly what was going on “Wait, no, really?” your voice got embarrassingly higher with each word.

“Yes Bug really, but you can’t tell anyone, we hadn’t planned to tell you today but I mean you probably would’ve figured it out, considering I’m not actually injured, plus the sickness.” Lia responded to you, it now made sense why she looked like she did when you got in the car, “But Bug, you have to promise not to tell anyone. No one else knows, we only got the results back from the clinic yesterday,” your sister added.

“I promise I won’t, but I’m so excited for you both, you’re going to be great Mums. Also I’m sorry for making you wait for me, I just-” “it’s okay, don’t worry, I’m just glad you got to see everyone and that we get to spend time together”

“Can we name the baby Y/N?” 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

i watched spto and i'm down bad for matthew patel now so uh- can i request platonic matthew patel x reader where reader works at gman media and they become friends with him after he realizes just how out of his depth running the place and just like breaks down to the nearest person that he has no idea what he's doing?

Oufh I gotta admit the same thing-

......

Being a custodian at G-Man Media certainly wasn't the job you hoped for, but at least it was a job that paid well...better than anything McDonalds could have provided.

And of course, that's only because it used to be run by gazillionaire Gideon Graves.

Yes. Used to.

There was a huge change in management that literally happened overnight--as your boss was defeated in battle by Matthew Patel, and he became the CEO of pretty much everything the former had.

The two record labels, fourteen animal shelters, movie studio, etc. etc. were now all his for the taking.

Never in a million years would you imagine that this theater-obsessed punk who was Ramona's first evil ex-boyfriend would be able to overthrow the G-Man himself.....and yet he won.

Of course, the aforementioned battle they had resulted in some serious damages and a lot of repairs having to be done in several rooms and floors. But if anything you were just relieved Matthew chose to disband the League of Evil Exes. You didn't have to clean up all their messes or fix anything Luke, Todd, or the twins' robot might have broken.

Even better was that Gideon wasn't around to nitpick at every little thing anymore.

That was a huge upside for you.

On the downside, however...your new boss was somehow both better and worse than him.

Matthew was thrown into such a tough role so quickly, and while he seemingly had everything under control with his demon hipster chicks becoming his agents.....sometimes he just looked lost.

Sure, he seemed to like shouting out orders and getting escorts in fancy helicopters, but when it came down to actual business stuff, he kept asking his employees about different things--even painfully obvious things.

You've never talked to him much even before this, although you usually keep to yourself and don't really speak unless spoken to. But you can tell he's struggling to maintain his image.

Still, you don't wanna say anything that might anger him or get you fired.

And besides, he had mystical powers that were ten times cooler than anything Gideon ever had, so pissing him off would be most unwise.

.......

It's late in the evening when you're heading to your final stop before getting to go home: Matthew's office.

He didn't say anything in particular had to be repaired, although you figured there was no harm in double-checking things. For all you know, the TV's wiring might need to be fixed or a screw in the table might've come loose.

Hopefully he didn't mind. You're usually in and out of there by the time he returns from whatever business trip he attended.

Yet upon entering his office, you stood in your tracks upon seeing that he was there, sitting all alone....apparently brooding and monologuing to himself. You were used to seeing him doing that sort of thing.

But this time something seemed...off.

Even his demon agents were concerned and looked grateful you showed up, immediately stepping aside so you could walk in further, hearing his mumbling become more coherent.

"What am I doing with my life? This isn't what I went to college for..."

"Mr. Patel, sir?" You called out cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

"....no, actually. Everything is NOT okay!" Slamming his hands onto the table, he stared up at you from across the table, taking a moment to identify you. You could see how exhausted and bloodshot his eyes were, along with his eyeliner looking more smudged. "You're the custodian, right...[y/n], was it?"

You blinked, surprised he remembered your name. "Correct. I was just-"

"Look, [y/n]..I've been feeling really awful lately and I just need to....get some stuff off my chest. And since you're the only one here right now, you get to listen to me." He then pointed to a chair near him. "Sit, and don't you dare tell anyone what we've discussed, capiche?"

Even though the clock was ticking close to the time you went home, concern over your boss' mental stability took priority over everything else at that moment. So you listened to his demand and took a seat, remaining silent and patient.

As Matthew slumped back into his chair, his whole expression shifted into one of sadness, as though he just lost his best friend. "I'm....not cut out for this job..." He confessed. "This isn't what I envisioned myself doing."

"I imagine it's been difficult. But for the record, you've only been doing this for-"

"I've already lost this company billions of dollars."

You blinked. "Billions, sir?"

"Yes, billions! You know, I-I only defeated Gideon Graves in battle because he would have taken my life if he won. And for a while it felt good to have all of his fame and fortune.......but now it....i-it just sucks! The paperwork never stops, I can barely catch a break, I don't know any of the computer passwords, and I don't even like wearing this stupid suit!!" Laying his head on the table, he banged his fist against it, choking back tears. "I'm a theater major..not a business major, damn it!"

'Poor Matthew..' You frowned slightly. "If all of this is so overwhelming, maybe you could-"

"No." He quickly sat up, his face darkening with a deep scowl. "I am NOT giving anything back to that lying scumbag! Besides, we have a legally binding contract that states all his properties are mine! That means permanently! Forever!"

"My apologies, sir..i-it was only a suggestion." You put your hands up, feeling tense especially as his demons were now frowning at you. "I know you've been under a lot of pressure lately...and there's no shame in admitting that."

Matthew blinked. "You've noticed?"

"I have." You nodded. "I mean..a lot of people go to college for one thing and suddenly wind up in an entirely different field. I know my opinion may not matter much, but...I think you're doing a great job despite your lack of experience."

He shrunk back, no longer looking angry but rather...guilty?

"Thank you.." He sighed. "I'm sorry for never saying this, but you've been a huge help cleaning up after all our messes when we had the League of Evil Exes. So..you better give yourself a little credit, too."

Now it was your turn to be flattered, as you smiled and chuckled. "Thank you, Mr. Patel. I appreciate that."

"Uh-huh..and there's something else, too.."

"And what would that be?"

"....I only refuse to throw in the towel because this company can give me the funds necessary to make the Scott Pilgrim musical a reality." He confessed.

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow. "A musical based off of that guy you killed?"

"Yes. But apparently he's alive. Ramona told me."

"....I see-"

"BUT as soon as the production takes off, I may or may not return some of Gideon's empire to him. I'm sure that asshole is scheming to reclaim it as we speak..." He grumbled, his attitude turning sour again.

You thought about what you could say to cheer him up without patronizing him...but fortunately that wasn't too hard to figure out.

"I wouldn't worry about him. May I ask who you'll be starring as in the musical?" You rested your arms on the table, smirking as you saw the way Matthew's eyes lit up.

"Why, of course!" With a wide grin, he jumped up onto the table, dramatically posing. "I will be the main character: Scott Pilgrim!! I vow to delight and entertain people everywhere!" He laughed, before he stopped and stared down at you. "[Y/n], may I show you a presentation of my many one-man shows? They've all prepared me for this moment and I'd love your opinion on them."

"Sure." Shrugging, you smiled and leaned back in your seat. "I'm getting paid overtime for this, right?"

His face fell flat. "...I'm supposed to give you guys overtime?"

"Well...Gideon never did, but--nevermind." You shook your head. "You can roll the footage."

His grin returned as he snapped his fingers, causing the room to darken and the TV to come to life, showing off one of his many recorded performances.

It was a two hour long video, but entertaining nonetheless. You recognized a lot of the songs and were impressed by all his method acting.

It's no wonder he made such a convincing CEO.

After that, he finally allowed you to go home with a promise to give you overtime....although not before he exchanged phone numbers with you as thanks for being his unofficial therapist for the day.

He claims it's so he can update you on the musical's progress and "other business stuff", as he put it.

But he kept calling you on your days off to talk, insisting you referred to him as Matthew instead. "Mr. Patel" was slowly starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

You didn't mind it, though.

At this point, you accepted the fact that you became your boss' first (and possibly only) friend.

Maybe after he surrenders the G-Man empire for good, that friendship can continue.

[mysticficti0n]

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

Talk to me

warnings- swearing, confession, drinking, smoking weed, (they're like 18 in this), petname, "enemies" to lovers, rude!tom to sassy!sappy!Fluffy!tom

NOT PROOF READ BC ITZ LITERALLY 1:45 AM AND I'M TIRED 👺

words- 897

I slammed my cards onto the table seeing Tom huff in disappointment "loser!" I sang "now I get the €30 you promised me if I won" the boy shoved a hand into his pocket pulling the cash out and practically throwing it at me

"how do you always fucking win its fucking stupid- you're literally dumb as shit and can barley count and now scammed me of €30- I'm going for a smoke so I'll be back in a sec... fucking hate this god damn game" Tom rose from his spot at the table and walked up the stairs to who knows where, I looked toward Georg who shrugged and grabbed the vodka that was sitting openly on the island, the rest of us carried on playing until Tom's sec turned into an hour, the boys had migrated from the kitchen to the living room and slouched on the sofa giggling half asleep watching MTV but the thought of Tom being alone didn't leave my mind as much as I hated him I wondered if he was okay

"I'm gonna go for a smoke" I patted Gustav's shoulder while he cried in hysterics as Bill fell from his seat dropping his drink over his jeans "ugh" I sighed double stepping the stairs, I walked down the hallway until I reached Tom's room and pushed the door open slightly, I could see his window open and him sat on the roof with swirls of smoke cascading into the air from his lips. I went to the window and crawled out "hey you've been awhile" he hummed followed by a snotty breath

"what do you want Y/n?" his voice quivered "I really don't feel like fucking talking right now" I looked to him, eyes red not just from being high but tear streaks lay across his skin which he tried to rub away with his damp sleeve

"woah I came to check on you after the cards aftermath" I held my hands up in surrender seeing him turn away and bring the bud to his lips again "pass it to me" lazily his hand hung toward me holding the end to me as I tuck a suck from it feeling the air fill my chest "so whats on your mind?"

"did you not hear me literally twenty seconds ago?" I shook my head pushing myself up the roof to sit next to him "you really piss me off Y/n you know that"

"yeah I get that impression a lot from you" I joked finding myself funny "I mean I don't really like you much either but I feel I hide it better" a small 'oh' left the boy, my eyes flicked to him finding his already on me "'oh' what?" I asked

"nothin'" I cocked my head to him making his tough persona drop "well I was gonna apologise for being a dick to you half the time but I mean after you said that I take my shit back" a little laugh chirped in my ear making me smile

"no I'm sorry I like you but you just never seem to like me so I thought we'd have just like a mutual dislike to each other you know and I mean you called me a dumb so..." I took the and of the bud out his hands and lifted it to my lips taking the last drag before throwing it somewhere

"well I mean I like you... quiet a bit actually but erm I just thought I wouldn't have a chance" I turned my body to face him as I breathed out the last of the smoke "I know its stupid"

"no... I don't think so, just a misunderstanding" he nodded and the air seemed to become really thick "so..." our eyes Locked together as two small chuckles left us "I'm sorry" I began seeing the boy shake his head

"shut up it's not your fault.. well not all of it" I faked to be offended shoving his shoulder slightly "Ow my shoulder!" he cooed

"oh be quite dumbass" I quipped feeling his hand jab at my side "Hey that actually hurt!" I called pushing his hand away

"yeah did it?" he played mocking my voice

"did it did it" I mimicked and he shut up "thats what I thought" I spoke flicking my hair away from my face

"be quiet Y/n" he sneered as I turned to him "what?"

"make me" in a swift movement his hand was under my chin holding me inches away from his lips and my heart stopped

"quiet now huh?" he toyed with his pricing while looking at me "silent even" I smirked in his grip and pushed myself closer "what are you doing?"

"making you shut up" I pressed my lips to his and felt him relax into me, his hand leaving my jaw and going to my waist as I hooked an arm around his neck "good boy" I hummed into the kiss feeling the heat of his face burn onto mine, the two of us pulled away with a small smile

"well... is that what will happen if I say sorry?" I nodded letting my hand that was around his neck trail down his back "mh- Y/n?" I smiled to him "I'm so fucking sorry you know- really really sorry in fact- like so so so so sorry"

[miracles-and-butterflies]

The promised fic of Mirabel falling through the ice @yellowcry. However… I don’t have much of it because AO3 drafts deleting themselves and me forgetting to take a copy of the final piece. My bad.

And From the Ground Beneath My Feet

“I won again, bitches!” Isabela called triumphantly, skidding to a stop at the marked finish line tree again.

Camilo scoffed, “I would have won if Dolores wasn't clinging to me the whole way. Why are you racing if you don’t like ice skating? Can't you go sit with Mirabel?”

“For the last time, Mirabel and I don't have to be joined at the hip, like you four insist you must be.” Dolores grumbled. She pushed herself away from Camilo, stumbling into Isabela. “And I do like ice skating.”

“Then why are you so bad at it?”

“Because Mama rarely snows this badly for the lake to freeze over. I can't practice.”

“The rest of us are managing without practice, sis.”

“Woo!” Antonio exclaimed, stopping the would-be argument, finally joining the group. He was being guided over by Luisa, who had gone slowly and not taken part in the race for his sake, instead helping him get use to being on the ice. It was his first time, after all. Thank God, he didn't take after his sister here. “Again, again, again!”

His sister shook her head though, quickly dismissing the idea. “No, let's take a break. I'm sure Luisa would like to actually beat Isabela and Camilo at something, you can come show me all the animals by the river.” She offered.

Antonio pouted, but seemingly agreed to the idea to check in with the local wildlife. He was also well aware that Isabela, Luisa and Camilo had wanted to play some kind of ice football that Mirabel had said was 'unsafe' and 'a bad idea'. Maybe if they got that done now, they would take him sledging as they promised. Just as the group began making their way to the edge, there was a sudden scream and splash behind them.

“What the hell was that?” Camilo asked.

“Someone fell in, I think!” Antonio gasped, stepping back fearfully.

Dolores froze in horror, staring out behind them, while Isabela glanced around in confusion. “But there's no one here but us— Luisa, what the fuck are you doing?!”

The rest of the Madrigal kids watched as Luisa haphazardly sprinted back across the frozen river to where they could spot a little, jagged hole. Luisa tore her skates off and flung them aside before stopping herself at said hole. There was barely a second of thought before she dropped to her knees and brought her fists down hard on the ice, breaking the surface around her and widening the hole. She dove in, water splashing out after her and the others panicked.

Camilo practically scooped Antonio up to keep him out of the way, whispering assurances to him that everything would be alright. Isabela, meanwhile, had pushed Dolores aside and was now quickly following after her sister.

“Isabela! Don’t you fucking go in as well!” Dolores cried after her, with no success.

Fortunately, before Isabela could do anything dangerous, Luisa's head resurfaced. She was panting, finally able to breathe again, as she began treading water with her spare arm and making her way towards Isabela. The other arm dragged something else out of the water.

Mirabel.

With help from her vines, Isabela tugged Luisa back onto the ice and onto dry land. The warm siblings quickly made their way over to the opposite side as fast as they could - Dolores stopping to pick up Luisa's discarded skates. Luisa herself didn't seem too fussed by her skates right now. She didn't even thank or notice Isabela's presence, just set Mirabel down gently against the snow to look at her.

“Fuck!” Luisa cursed, unblinking at the unmoving, almost blue body before her. Missing her glasses, but apart from that, seemed to be all in one piece. She glanced at the others making their way over, then back at Mirabel, who thankfully was now shivering. Not normal shivering, it was something intense and shaking the poor girl to her core. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Not wasting anymore time, Luisa scooped Mirabel up into her arms and set her target on the path for home.

“Luisa!” Isabela cried after her. “Luisa! Hey, wait for us!”

“No!” Luisa snapped, without sparing a glance back. “She’s going to fucking freeze to death! I'm not waiting, she needs to see Mama!”

Isabela groaned in frustration. “I get that, but it's a long way back. And even I know you can't leave her in those clothes the whole way! Dolores brought shit with us - towels or something - you can use that and then go! There’s gotta be a better plan then just carrying her like that for hours.”

Somewhat begrudgingly, Luisa drew herself to a halt and allowed the others to catch up with her.

“I know this isn't something to joke about,” Camilo started, innocently. “But it has to be said: this is karma for her smart-mouthing us the entire way down about falling in.”

Isabela looked pissed by the comment but she also snorted, having to cover her mouth with her hand and looking away to collect herself.

Luisa tried her best to ignore Camilo as usual. She didn't think of his comment further as Mirabel was suddenly shivering even more than before, eyes blinking open once or twice but not long enough for it to mean anything. The younger made a miserable noise and it only spurred Luisa into getting more impatient waiting for the supposed towels.

No sooner had Dolores caught up with them, all their things in tow, Luisa's gaze narrowed at her.

“What do we do?” She demanded, cold. “Come on. You’re supposed to be the one who knows everything. Tell me what to do. How do I help her?”

“Skin-to-skin contact.” Dolores blurted, and the area went silent. “It’s not the only thing we can try, but it will be the most effective in getting Mirabel warm, with what we have available, which is the most important thing right now.”

Everyone else looked a bit put off. Luisa herself didn't flinch, passing a limp Mirabel to Isabela and already yanking her top layers off.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on,” Isabela tried. “You’re not— look, I get it, we don’t want Mirabel to freeze to death, but what exactly is your plan here, Luisa? You can't walk back into town naked.”

Luisa just shrugged at the older, not stopping. “I don't have to be naked naked, right? I'm a giant compared to her, she'll only need a bit of my skin. It's no different to when we went swimming last month and I carried her in our bathing suits. And we have towels, I won't be bare.”

“And blankets! Bruno said we should bring them.” Antonio added, wanting to be helpful.

“See? Problem solved.” Luisa said. She took Mirabel back from Isabela and shuffled away from the others. “A little privacy?”

The four nodded and immediately wandered off; Dolores left the bag of towels and blankets against a tree for Luisa. She turned her attention back to Mirabel, who just looked worse every time Luisa looked at her.

“Sorry, hermanita,” she mumbled, beginning to peel off the clothes.

If there was ever a good reason for all of Mirabel's layers and numerous petticoats, it was that her undergarments were relatively dry. She would have folded up Mirabel's clothes nicely, as she knew her sister would be livid to find they hadn't been cared for properly, but she didn't want to leave the girl freezing in that time. Even if she was wrapped in at least five towels and six blankets currently.

Luisa had saved one towel for herself. She had dived in, after all, and could use with being dried herself. As she took her blouse off and felt the cold breeze on her back, she seemingly realised what exactly she was doing. But, like she had said to Isabela, their undergarments were no different to their swimming costumes. And, on a more important note, Mirabel needed warmth and this was the best/fastest way to give it to her.

She practically winced when she picked Mirabel up. Frozen, soft skin against her warm, toned body. On instinct, Mirabel nuzzled into the crook of her neck and Luisa immediately regretted not drying her hair first. The shock of cold skin and icy hair wasn’t pleasant. Oh well, she had already picked Mirabel up now. And she wasn’t letting go.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x F! reader

Description: The boys and reader come to the aid of Sam's old college buddy after he is accused of a murder he swears he didn't commit. They discover a shapeshifter is adopting the likenesses of others and murdering people.

Warnings: cannon violence, not my GIF, shapeshifters, teasing, tension 🤭, choking, kidnapping, mentions and usage of guns, being tied up, murder

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose, @ada--44

Word Count: roughly 8,000

(Not my GIF but we can still appreciate it)

Skin

(Master list, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

The Impala comes to a stop in front of a gas pump, the slightly warmer breeze of late February brushing through the car as Dean opens his door, half sitting out the door.

“Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” Dean announces. I hum in agreement with a little nod of my head, Dean looks back at me in acknowledgment and then at Sam, who has given no response or recognition.

He rolls his eyes, “Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy.” Sam shrugs his brother off, looking down at his PalmPilot.

“Busy doin’ what?” Dean shoots back.

“Reading e-mails.” Sam says simply, not even bothering to look up. Dean gets out of the car and rounds it, beginning to fill the tank with gas, “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford” Sam replies.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean scuffs.

“Hey I don’t see anything wrong with that” I chime in truthfully.

“Well, what exactly does he tell ‘em?” Dean switches his gaze to Sam now, “You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“Thank you Y/N.” Sam begins with before actually answering Dean's questions, “I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother and best friend. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“Oh, so you lie to ‘em.” Den acknowledges.

“That’s not technically lying, he's just not giving all the details” I point out.

“Yeah, that’s still called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin’ the truth is far worse.” Dean responds.

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?” Sam asks, Dean shrugs, “You’re serious?” he adds.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.” Dean states.

“Okay well, what about Y/N? We’ve known her for a long time but she’s not blood related, and I'd say you’re pretty close to her.” Sam brings up smiling to himself as if he knows he won, before quickly adding, “No offense Y/N.”

“Non taken” I answer, curious to hear Dean's response.

Dean goes quiet, just staring at his younger brother with big eyes and a tight jaw as if to tell him to stop. Finally he answers, mumbling, “That’s different.”

Without missing a beat Sam immediately follows up with, “How so?”

This time Dean really doesn't answer, just kind of looks awkwardly around. Realizing he won’t get an answer Sam adds, “Exactly.”

Dean rolls his eyes, half turning away to check how much longer he has to be there for.

Suddenly Sam speaks up again, except this time without his cocky smile and sassy attitude, “God….”

Dean turns back ‘round quickly, “What?”

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.” Sam begins.

“Is she hot?” Dean cuts in, getting a look from both Sam and I before going back to the real situation at hand.

Sam ignores him, continuing his explanation, “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” Dean exclaims, putting the pump back in its place and closing the tank he rounds the car again.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.” Sam assures as his brother gets back in the car.

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.” Dean offers.

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.” Sam orders.

Dean chuckles, “Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

“It is our problem. They’re my friends.” Sam shoots back.

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean says, looking through the rear view mirror. He meets my eyes and I give him a pleading, knowing look. He sighs as he pulls out of the gas station, he makes a U-turn now driving back the way we came.

“Oh my God, Sam!” Rebecca greets happily, the long haired blonde smiling brightly.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky.” Sam jokes bending down slightly with his arms open for a hug. She wraps her arms around him tightly, “You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

It’s odd but endearing to see Sam like this, being able to have a peek into what his life was like when he was away at college. When he was happy, things were a little bit simpler.

They break away and Sam turns serious, “I got your e-mail.” Her smile falters, “I didn’t think that you would come here.”

Dean steps forward and extends his hand, “Dean. Older brother.” She shakes his hand looking at him with a hint of confusion, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Dean says back with his cocky smile.

Her eyes wander over to me, as if signaling it’s my turn to introduce myself with a little wave, “Hi! I’m Y/N a, uh, good friend of these two.”

“Nice to meet you” She smiles back.

Sam, rightfully, cuts in, “We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.”

“Come in.” She steps aside leading us further into the house, Dean being the one to close the door.

“Nice place.” Dean compliments looking around the cozy well loved home.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free.” She explains, as we follow her through the house.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asks.

“They lived in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.” She answers as we enter the kitchen, “ Do you guys want a beer or something?”

Dean smiles, “Hey—“

“No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.” Sam cuts him off, definitely for the better. This isn’t the time nor the place for drinks.

She leans against the island as she begins, “Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Her voice gets all crackly, tears freely flowing, “So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.” Sam offers.

“We could.” Dean adds

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam clarifies, nudging his brother.

Dean laughs, “Detective, actually.”

“Really? Where?” Rebecca gushes.

Easily Dean shrugs, “Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.” It always amazes me how easily these two lie, well mostly on Sam’s part.

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just—I don’t know” She stammers

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent.” Sam explains, eyebrows scrunched together in seriousness.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.” She leaves us alone in the kitchen, walking down the hall to get those keys.

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends.” Dean comments, lightly shoving his brother.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help” Sam pleads.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.” Dean shrugs.

“Oh come on Dean, it's the right thing to do.” I add, joining the pleading party. “Yeah and two places at once? We’ve looked into less.” Sam points out. Dean sighs but remains silent in defeat, he won’t win this one especially when it’s the both of us pleading with him. He didn’t stand a chance.

The Impala pulls up across the street from Zack’s house, the white building in contrast with the yellow crime scene tape plastered on its outside.

We get out of the car, Rebecca having rode with me in the backseat, “You’re sure this is okay?” She asks Dean. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.” Dean says all nonchalant as he leads us to the house.

Opening the door to this taped off house revealed a mess of blood. There was blood smeared on the walls and the furniture, a table cluttered with fruit, playing cards and newspapers as if a life was interrupted. And it was. One life physically gone and never coming back and another life, who is potentially innocent, sits rotting away in a jail cell. Rebecca remains strigid just outside the constraints of the police tape. Sam turns back to her, “Bec, you wanna wait outside?”

“No. I wanna help.” With tears in her eyes she ducks underneath the tape.

Dean and I walk slowly around the house, observing the messy crime scene. And although neither of us are actual police officers or forensic scientists it doesn't take a genius to figure out there was a struggle, based on the upturned furniture and the blood splatter alone.

Meanwhile Sam stays with his friend,“Tell us what else the police said.”

“Well, there’s no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers—they’re already talking about plea bargain.” She looks around the room and begins to cry, “Oh, God…”

“Look, Bec, if Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?” Sam asks her, over the loud noise of a dog barking nearby.

She shakes her head, “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack’s clothes. The police—they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.”

Sam walks away from her with a nod. I then walk over to the half open front door, looking at the neighbors dog who hadn’t stopped barking the entire time we’ve been here.

I feel her come up behind me, “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“Oh, what happened to him?” I ask her, still looking at the black dog who bared its teeth as it barked relentlessly. If she hadn’t said anything I would think this dog was always aggressive, mean even.

“He just changed” She replies, half shrugging.

“Do you know when that change occurred?” I half turn to her.

“I guess around the time of the murder.”

I nod in confirmation, making a mental note, walking away towards the boys, a comforting hand on Rebecca’s shoulder.

The brothers stand in the hallway looking at a framed photograph of Sam, Zack, and Rebecca all together, talking over something I couldn’t quite catch. It’s bittersweet to think that even after Sam left for his “road trip” that his friends hadn’t forgotten him, had even kept up a photo of them all together.

“Apparently the neighbors dog suddenly became all aggressive around the time of Zack’s girlfriend's murder.” I retell the information I just gained. “Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal.” Sam adds.

“I was thinking the same thing” I nod along.

Sam turns to his brother, “So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.” Dean answers simply.

“Yeah.” Sam says

“Yeah.” Dean says back just as Rebecca walks over to us, “So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of a cop.” She answers, causing Dean to laugh (a little uncomfortably), “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

“All right.” Dean says with the slightest hint of a smirk, leading us out just as he led us in.

After seeing the crime scene, Rebecca’s home stood as a total contrast. The clean cozy vibe of the home being completely absent of blood and the act of murder.

“Here he comes.” Rebecca turns her laptop towards us, pointing to the tape of Zack entering his house.

“22:04, that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.” Dean points out.

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.” She explains.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam cuts in, and if I hadn’t known him. Hadn’t known it was probably because he’d seen something he couldn’t exactly say with her around then I’d say it was a jerkish move.

“Oh, sure.” She gets up from the couch.

“Hey.” He calls out, forcing her to turn around, “Maybe some sandwiches, too?”

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” She replies back as she leaves the room. If I hadn’t known if I liked her before this I definitely do now.

“I wish.” Dean muttered in a hushed tone. I lightly smack the back of his head in warning. His head snapped towards me, and his eyes widened with confusion. “Don’t give me that look; you know what that was for!” I whispered, my words sharp as I poked his chest. He seized my wrist, his grip tight enough to send a shiver down my spine. The room seemed to grow smaller as my mouth fell slightly agape, and I gazed up at him through my eyelashes. He peered down at me, his green eyes seemingly a couple shades darker, a cocky smile on his face.

"Guys!" Sam whisper-shouted, and the small moment between Dean and me shattered like fragile glass. Dean quickly dropped my wrist, the cocky smile vanishing as he was caught in the act. My head reluctantly turned towards the taller man, although all I wanted was to keep my eyes on Dean, to feel his attention solely on me, but now it was all disrupted.

"Check this out," Sam rewinds the tape, seemingly unfazed by what he just witnessed. I clear my throat, attempting to dispel the lingering, fuzzy feeling that Dean's touch had stirred within me. This wasn't the time or place for distractions. Shifting my focus back to the reality of the hunt at hand, I watch as Sam rewinds the tape once more. In one of the frames, Zack stares directly at the camera, his eyes an eerie shade of silver, far from anything normal. Sam pauses the tape once again.

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare.” Dean shrugs, skepticism lingering in his voice.

“That’s not like any camera flare I’ve ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul.” Sam informs.

“Right.” Dean says, unamused.

“No! Sam’s right! The belief has deep rooted ties to certain Native American cultures, it stems from the idea that a photograph freezes a moment in time and can capture a person’s spirit or energy at that moment.” I explained with a beaming smile, happy to share the fact.

“Do I even want to know why you know that?” Dean asks me to which I just shrugged, “I love fun facts.”

“Anyway” Sam continued, “Remember that dog that was freakin’ out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger.” Dean concluded.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was two places at once.” Sam finished.

As dawn broke, the persistent nudge of the boys broke me from my slumber, rousing me from a deep, cozy dream. With a groggy sigh, I realized it was just 5 a.m., way too early for me. Regret gnawed at my bones as I recalled having given them the spare key to my motel room for precisely these sort of moments.

Reluctantly, I rolled out of bed and slipped into the comforting embrace of leggings, a sports bra, and a thick zip up sweater to fend off the early morning chill. As we piled into the car and set out for Zack's home once more, the chill weather and the steady movement of the car nearly brought me back to the darkness of sleep.

The car was now parked discreetly behind the house, and we stepped out, greeted by the morning's biting cold that nipped at our cheeks. "Alright, so why are we here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean inquired, as he nursed a cup of coffee. "Mmm, yeah, it's way too early for all of this," I mumbled groggily in agreement.

"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer going in, but not coming out," Sam explained, gesturing toward the house behind him. "So, he came out the back door?" Dean pointed out, leaning against the hood of his car, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue," Sam clarified, walking up to a large red garbage can. "Because they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside. I still don't know why we're here at 5:30 in the morning," Dean grumbled, taking another sip from his coffee.

Sam walked away to scour the area only to stop near a telephone pole, noting, "Blood. Somebody came this way." Dean and I exchanged a perplexed look before joining Sam near the smeared blood. "The trail just ends...?" I inquired, glancing around to confirm what we were all seeing.

Suddenly the loud blaring of an ambulance sped past us, the red, white, and blue lights illuminating on the houses it passed. Once again, we exchanged a glance that balanced on the edge of caution and curiosity. With that unspoken understanding, we swiftly returned to the car and pursued the blaring ambulance.

Upon our arrival, a slightly older Asian man was being forcibly guided into a police car, his wrists cuffed tightly. Exiting the vehicle, we approached a woman nearby, clad in running wear. I asked her softly, "What happened?"

"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her," the woman explained, causing my eyes to widen and my eyebrows to shoot up in shock.

"Really?" Sam inquired.

"I used to see him heading to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy," the woman sighed, her gaze fixed on the man being taken away.

Moments later we had split up, Sam and I together to semi-explore the crime scene, meaning the surrounding area since the police and a sizable forensic team were diligently at work. We were on the side of the house, scouring for any clues. Oddly enough, Sam sifted through garbage cans only to come up empty-handed. All we discovered was another trail of blood that suddenly terminated. We rounded to the front of the house.

"Hey," Dean called out, causing us to turn around. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"Definitely our kind of problem," Dean nodded, sort of throwing his arm into it for emphasis.

"What caused the change of heart?" I inquired, stuffing my hands into my pockets to ward off the chill.

"Well, I just spoke to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story. Apparently, the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked," Dean elaborated, nodding towards a burly police officer standing nearby.

"So, he was in two places at once," Sam stated rather than asked.

"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; the police think he's a nutjob," Dean shot back without missing a beat.

"Two evil doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way, how sweet," I remarked sarcastically.

"Could be the same thing doing it, too," Dean suggested. Sam looked up in thought, "Shapeshifter? Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

"Well, you know, every culture all over the world has shapeshifter lore. All sorts of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or the other way around or even into other men, like skinwalkers, werewolves, nanaue, etcetera," I reminded.

"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we've got a shapeshifter prowling the neighborhood," Dean added.

"Let me ask you this Y/N—in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" Sam asked me.

"Uh…no?" I answered.

He turned to Dean, leading the way, "Well then we picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Just like your friend's house," Dean confirmed.

"Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared," Sam explained as we followed the trail of blood all the way to an empty street at the back of the house.

"Well, there's another way to go—down," Dean replied. The three of us peered down at a manhole.

"How lovely," I mumbled, not particularly thrilled about having to go into the sewers.

Sam lifts the grate up, allowing Dean to go in first with a smile with me following next down. Surprisingly the ladder wasn’t sticky and full of muck like I thought it’d be, but still it was gross to be down here and I don’t think two showers would be enough after this.

The tunnels were dark and leaky, a constant dripping sound coming from somewhere. “I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.” Sam says, looking around.

“I think you’re right. Look at this.” Dean answers bending down in front of a glossy slimy pile of blood and skin. He takes out his pocket knife, pulling some of the skin up the slime of it glistening in the dim lights. I had to stop myself from gagging.

“Is this from his victims?” Sam inquires, a scrunched look of disgust on his face.

“You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds.” Dean pointed out, letting the goop of the skin fall back to the floor.

“Why would you say that?” I cringe, my question more rhetorical than anything.

Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, taking out some bullets and entering them into the slots of the gun. “Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart.” Sam smiles, dimples on display.

“That’s right.” And as if on cue Sam’s phone rings.

“This is Sam.” He answers walking to the front of the car, remaining just in hearing range. And just as much as I hate to admit it, Dean and I stayed quiet to eavesdrop.

“We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out.

…

What are you talkin’ about?

…

Why would you do that?

…

Bec—

…

We’re tryin’ to help.

….

Bec, I’m sorry, but—“ His hand drops to his side, sighing as he looks down,

Dean walks over to his brother with a half frown, “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about.” He pauses before continuing, “You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked.” Again he pauses, “It’s just—it’d be easier if—“

“If I was like you.” Sam finished his sentence.

Dean breathes out looking around, “Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people.” He pauses for a third time, “But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain’t without perks.” He holds up a gun at hip level, Sam takes it with a sigh and begins tucking it into the back of his jeans. He begins to walk away leaving Dean and I behind.

Dean walks back over to me by the open trunk, he leans against the car as I hand him a flashlight. “What’s with that pout?” He asks me, tilting his head down to catch my eyes.

“I’m not pouting” I smile, nearly laughing. “I happen to know you quite well, you were definitely pouting sweetheart.” He smiles now too, “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

I closed the trunk, Dean taking another flashlight from me so I could tuck a small gun into the side of my leggings as I balanced my own flashlight. “I’m thinking that…this job is destructive” I look up at Dean who waits for me to continue, “Seeing Sammy with Rebecca and how happy he was just seeing a friend from college, or that photo with the three of them all together. It was bittersweet to see that really, knowing that he was and can be happy without all this” I motion to the flashlights and the guns neatly tucked away.

“I know” he sighs, “lasting relationships ain’t exactly part of the job description” he smiles sadly and I know he didn’t really know what to say to me.

I gave him a slow nod, giving his upper arm a squeeze as I walked past him, “We should go before Sam starts bugging us for taking so long.”

With guns and flashlights drawn, we cautiously treaded through the sewer, a squishy, unpleasant noise underfoot with each step. I’d definitely need to burn my shoes and clothes after this ordeal.

The sewer resembled a labyrinth, an intricate network of pipes and tunnels twisting and turning in every direction. Drips of who-knows-what fell from the ceiling. Despite our careful steps to avoid the puddles on the ground, I still felt utterly disgusted. There was not enough showering in the world to cleanse me of this event.

With Sam leading the way, his gun extended ahead of him, Dean broke the silence, "I think we're close to its lair."

"Why do you say that?" Sam murmured without turning back to acknowledge his brother. "Because there's another nauseating pile next to your face," Dean retorted, using his flashlight to reveal a slimy heap of skin clinging to a pipe. Sam leaped back, repulsed. "Oh, God!" He glanced down at his shoulder, which had been perilously close to the pile.

I moved my flashlight just past Sam, revealing a pile of discarded clothes. "I think it's lived here for a while."

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with," Sam added, turning to face us. "Dean!" He suddenly shouted. Both of us spun around to see the shapeshifter, still in its last victim's form, right behind us. The shapeshifter struck Dean, sending him crashing to the sewer floor, then sprinted away. Sam fired twice, the bullets whizzing just above my head. He missed.

I bent down to assist Dean, who clutched his left shoulder, grimacing. "Get that son of a bitch!" He grunted and nodded as Sam took off, leaning against the wall. Dean gestured for me to follow his brother.

Running in a sewer was just as challenging as walking, with overhead pipes requiring us to duck to avoid collision.

Sam reached a ladder and began ascending it, lifting himself up and out. I followed, feeling the cold night air surrounding me as I emerged. We stood in a park, a distance from where we had entered, scanning the surroundings. Dean struggled out of the manhole, still holding his shoulder.

"All right, let's split up," Sam suggested, concealing his gun within his jacket, out of sight from the passersby in the park. The fact that they hadn't noticed us emerging from a manhole was beyond me, but I didn't question it when it worked in our favor.

“All right, I’ll meet you guys around the other side.” Dean agreed.

“Copy” I answered in confirmation, I twirled to the left as Sam headed right, and Dean proceeded straight. Despite the cold air, I unzipped my thick sweater to conceal my gun while ensuring I could still draw it swiftly. Even though I was comfy I began to regret just wearing a sports bra beneath my sweater, my stomach and above my breasts open to the frigid air.

I walked cautiously, weaving through crowds, scanning both people and the shops that remained open. Yet, street after street, there was no sign of our quarry. No more than five to ten minutes passed before I spotted Sam standing by a crosswalk. I tucked my gun into my leggings, finally able to zip up my sweater. He must have caught sight of me approaching from the corner of his eye.

"Nothing?" he asked, even though he likely knew the answer. I nodded in confirmation.

"Hey," Dean's voice called out from behind us, prompting us to turn toward him. "Anything?" he inquired, arms outstretched. "No. He's gone," Sam replied as his brother approached.

"Alright, let's get back to the car," Dean ordered, and we complied, turning to cross the street.

“You think he found another way underground?” Sam asks, stopping at the side of the Impala.

“Yeah, probably. You got the keys?” Dean retorts.

“Hey, didn’t Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?” Sam turns around facing Dean.

“Oh, that was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?”

“Oh, right. Here ya go.” He throws Dean the keys who catches it with his…left hand, he opens the trunk of the car. Sam walks off towards the front of the car but I hang back, maybe I'm overthinking it but this isn’t something that I can just let slip by.

“Hey, Dean” I call out my gun trained carefully on his back, “Yeah sweetheart” He answers turning around. I fight the urge to cringe hearing the usual endearing pet name curl off the lips of someone who wasn’t Dean, even more so a being who looked like him.

Sam sees my movements and swiftly moves to the right side of his brother, “Y/N! What are you doing”

“Yeah, chill. It’s me, all right?” ‘Dean shoots back his arms raised in defense.

“Sammy, he caught the keys with his left hand” I explained through gritted teeth. In my peripheral vision I see Sam’s eyes widen in realization, he mumbles, “Your shoulder was hurt.” His hand moved to the back of his waistband, searching for his gun. But before he could reach it, the shapeshifter swung a crowbar from the trunk, striking Sam down. My gun went off twice, the first bullet missing entirely, allowing the shapeshifter to hit Sam once more.

The second bullet nearly finding its mark, grazing his shoulder. He turned his head slowly toward me, glaring up at me through his lashes. A bullet grazing his shoulder didn't seem to slow him down. He stalked toward me, like a predator closing in on its prey. But before I could pull the trigger for a third time, he used the same crowbar to knock the gun out of my hand. The sharp metal sent the weapon tumbling, 'Dean' kicking it behind him, it sliding beneath the car.

He grinned at me, and my eyes widened with a mix of fear and determination. As he swung his arm back, ready to strike me with the crowbar, I grabbed hold of it, both hands clenching the cold metal. He was undeniably stronger than me, so I braced my feet even harder against the ground, bending my knees for added leverage and pushing up against the weapon.

His feet swept under me, sending me crashing hard to the ground, my back absorbing the brunt of the impact. I grunted, pushing myself up on my elbows, preparing to rise. But he quickly knelt over me, a knee on each side of my hips. 'Dean's' large, veiny hand closed around my throat, gripping it tightly. I used my hands to try and push him off, but it was futile. With his free hand, he seized my wrists, pinning them to my chest. My head lolled back against the concrete street.

My chest began to burn with the desperate need for air, and tears welled up in my eyes from the pain. Black spots started to invade my vision as I gazed up at 'Dean' through half lidded eyes. “Come on, baby," he growled, his voice raspy as his grip tightened even further. It was the last thing I heard before everything faded to black.

In and out, voices sang in a disjointed melody. Dim lights blurred behind my closed eyes. Fragments of Sam's voice pierced through the darkness, the words struggling to piece together. "Where...he...?...Dean?"

I blinked slowly, my head swaying to the side and then back. With a deep breath, my eyes snapped open. We were in the sewer.

Sam sat directly across from me, tightly bound to a pole, a rope encircling his neck. Strangely, it wasn't a rope that constricted my neck but something cold. I lurched my shoulders forward, feeling the restrictive, itchy rope around my ankles, wrists bound behind my back, and right beneath my breasts. It was then that I noticed my sweatshirt was missing.

"I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you," 'Dean' told Sam, seemingly unaware that I was also awake.

I attempted to move my bound hands, intending to use my magic to free myself from the ropes, but nothing happened. I couldn't sense my magic at all. Panic began to well up within me. I kicked my feet out in frustration, though beneath the surface, I was terrified. I couldn't feel my magic.

'Dean's' head snapped toward me, his gaze drawn to my soft whimpers of fear. "Are you wondering why you can't just...poof out of there?" I didn't answer. He crouched down in front of me, tapping the cold, constricting object around my neck, the sharp clicking of his nails against metal audible. "Iron," he whispered. He firmly grasped my chin, moving my face as though to savor what he'd done, offering me no chance to evade his touch. "From what I've learned from you guys, this has never happened to you," he murmured. He was right; while I was aware of what could inhibit a witch's powers, it had never been used against me

"Fuck you," I spat out, the curse word feeling alien on my tongue. I wasn't one to curse often.

"Oh, right back at you, sweetheart," he chuckled, rising from his crouched position and strolling over to a nearby table.

"What do you mean, 'learn'?" Sam asked him. The shapeshifter paused, gripping his head in pain and grimacing, then suddenly relaxed.

This time, he moved over to Sam, his voice laden with resentment. "He's got some serious issues with you. You went to college, and he had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home with Dad." He corrected himself, "You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?"

Sam brushed aside his comment and pressed, "Where is my brother?"

The shapeshifter leaned in close to Sam, his words oozing with bitterness. "I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You have friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. Sooner or later, everybody's going to leave me." He retreated to another table, this time picking up a knife.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It's not without its perks," he laughed darkly. "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky."

His gaze shifted to me now, his head tilted to the side in a taunt "You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance." I strained against my restraints, and he turned back to Sam. "Let's see what happens." He walked away, grabbing a bag on his way out.

As soon as the shapeshifter was out of sight, Sam and I began struggling against our restraints. "Damn it," Sam grunted.

I mirrored his efforts, but anxiety washed over me, and my breathing became rapid and shallow. Panic coursed through my veins, I couldn’t feel my magic. The unfamiliar absence of my powers only added to my distress. Leaning my head back against the pole, I hoped that somehow, it would rid me of the constricting iron collar around my neck.

"Y/N, you've got to breathe," Sam urged through gritted teeth as he continued to struggle against the bindings. I tried to listen to him, taking a deep breath that got caught in my throat as I attempted to swallow a sob, releasing a low whimper.

Suddenly, Sam ceased his struggles, and we both listened. We heard movement and coughing coming from somewhere behind him.

"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," Dean's voice called out from a corner his, also tied to a pole.

"Yeah, it's me," Sam chuckled. "He went to Rebecca's, looking like you," Sam added as he continued to struggle against his ropes.

"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one," Dean joked as he continued working on his own ropes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.” Sam explains further.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.” Sam shrugs as well as he can in his confinement.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?” Dean references, escaping his ropes. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us.” Sam suggests.

Dean walks over to us, standing between the two of us. I urged him to release Sam first, my voice trembling. He nodded and moved behind Sam to undo the ropes. “Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” Sam was quickly freed and stood up to stretch his neck and flex his hands. "Go see if you can find a drill or something for that," Dean ordered, pointing at the metal collar around my neck. Sam nodded and began searching the nearby tables.

Dean crouched next to me, undoing my restraints as he inquired, "What is that thing?"

"Iron," I mumbled, and his eyes widened in realization. He pulled out a pocket knife, I assume he picked up from the nearby table. I flinched slightly, even though I knew this was Dean, the real Dean who would never harm me.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm just using it for the ropes," he reassured me, raising his hands in defense and displaying the knife. He glanced at his brother across the room, and I couldn't decipher their exchanged looks. I felt silly.

Sam approached with the drill in hand, "I got it," he said, kneeling on the other side of me to begin unscrewing the collar. It seemed to be a rectangular piece of iron cut from a sheet and then drilled into the pole around me, creating this confining device. The whirring of the drill close to my ear did little to ease my anxiety.

The rope around which had rested just below my breasts, fell free. Dean quickly moved on to the one binding my wrists, which came apart more easily, and then to my ankles. I placed my hands on my lap, my wrists slightly bruised from the rope, and finger imprints marked into my skin. I now dreaded seeing what my neck looked like.

Dean's large hands cupped my wrists, gently massaging my sore skin. His movements faltered when he realized his hands and fingers matched perfectly with the bruises. The whirring of the drill stopped as Sam shifted the metal slightly, allowing me to slip free. I shuffled away from the collar, standing up quickly, nearly stumbling over myself. The sensation of my abilities returning enveloped me, offering a sense of comfort.

Both brothers stood up from their crouched positions, and Sam walked away to place the drill somewhere.

Dean approached me slowly, as if I were a frightened animal. He paused just inches in front of me, his eyebrows furrowing as he scrutinized my bruised form. His hand reached up slowly, giving me the chance to evade him, but I didn't. I allowed him to cup my cheek, his touch gentle and in stark contrast to the shapeshifter. I reminded myself that the shapeshifter wasn't him.

His gaze was soft as he observed me, carefully tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. He'd already seen the bruises, but his eyes dipped to my neck again, a touch of sorrow evident in his gaze. Just like my wrists, if he put his hand to my neck, it would match perfectly. I knew he would blame himself for this later.

With his hand still cradling my cheek, he brought my face closer to his. His lips pressed to the crown of my head, lingering there for a moment, and I melted against him. The urge to cry washed over me again, though this time it wasn't from fear, but rather from the overwhelming relief.

"Sorry to ruin the moment, but we've got to go," Sam's voice broke the silence from across the room. Dean didn't jump back or withdraw, instead his lips left my head as his hand slid from my face gently. His hand sought mine, and we followed Sam as he led us out.

Sam kicks open a grate, going out first into an alleyway. I crawl out after him, Dean following closely behind. The cold air nipped at us, our jackets nowhere in sight, and though that mixed with my bruising wasn’t the greatest fun in the world I at least got to see Dean in a tight light gray shirt. This probably shouldn’t have been on my mind at this moment but it was a nice distraction.

“Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.” Sam orders.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re gonna put an APB out on me.” Dean exclaims.

Sam shrugs, “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean runs off down the street.

We stood in front of a store window, a bunch of little tvs broadcasting the same news channel.

The reporter announces, “An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.” A sketch of Dean appearing on screen, “

“Man! That’s not even a good picture.” Dean throws up his arms.

“It’s good enough” I answer, looking around at the passerby, “We should move somewhere more out of sight.”

“Agreed” Sam says walking off. “Man!” Dean complains following after his brother.

"Come on," Sam paused in the alleyway. "They said attempted murder. At least we know—"

"I didn't kill her," Dean cut him off.

"We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's all right," Sam suggested. But I couldn't picture her wanting to see us.

"Alright, but first, I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him," Dean declared.

"We have no weapons. No silver bullets," Sam pointed out.

"Sam, the guy's walking around with my face. It's personal. I want to find him," Dean argued, crossing his arms.

"Okay. Where do we look?" Sam asked.

"Well, we could start with the sewers," Dean suggested.

"We have no weapons. He stole our guns. We need more," Sam reasoned.

"Oh," I laughed. "You want guns. I'll give you guns." I flicked my wrist, and a gray revolver appeared in my hand, just like when I produced the flare gun back during the wendigo hunt.

I handed the gun to Sam, adding, "How many do you want?"

“I don’t think I can wait, I'm gonna go check on Rebecca now.” Sam said as we walked around some back streets, near the person in question's house.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? No offense” I ask him.

“Yeah. You guys just wait for me don’t go into the sewers alone” Sam orders

“Sorry Sammy but do you really think i’ll be able to listen to that” Dean responds chuckling.

“Alright, fair point. Go, i’ll stay with Becca just don’t split up” Sam comprises, turning away to go to Rebecca’s.

Guns raised, Dean leads us across a ‘room’ in the sewer. The chamber filled candles and chains, more piles of disgusting skin and blood on the floor.

A muffling noise echoes through the halls, Dean and I share a look gripping our guns tighter as we approach a figure covered with a sheet.

Dean bends down to the figure, removing the sheet to see Rebecca beneath it. Her hands and feet were bound.

“Rebecca?” Dean and I ask at the same time.

“What happened?” I ask as Dean begins to undue her binds.

Rebecca begins to cry, “ I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay.” Dean finishes untying her, “Come on. Can you walk?” She nods, “Okay, we’ve gotta hurry. Sam went to see you.”

Even from outside her house you could hear the commotion and most likely fighting that happened inside. Dean crept the door open, gun drawn as he snuck in. I mimicked his movement falling after him into the living room.

The shapeshifter was on top of Sam, pinning him down.

“Hey!” Dean calls out to the shapeshifter. He gets off of Sam turning to the voice that beckoned it. Two shots ring out, through the heart and down the shapeshifter went.

Rebecca enters running over to her friend, “Sam!”

Meanwhile Dean went over to the shapeshifter that looked like him yanking back his necklace that was stolen, and it was probably bad that I hadn’t known it was gone till now.

I sat in my usual spot in the back seat of the Impala, cozied up with my halloween blanket regardless of the fact it was early March. It’s my favorite and I won’t accept any criticism.

The early morning sun shone through the windows, we hadn’t slept last night, spending the entire time busy with the hunt and by the time it was over morning was already breaking and we had to leave to avoid the police. We stopped at the motel for our bags but that was it, we were going to bid our goodbyes and then head to the next state over to rest up. I wasn’t even able to shower, which was okay in retrospect, I'd feel cleaner mentally once we drove away from here. I’d thrown a random t-shirt I had over the sports bra I had been running around in for hours. We eventually did find our coats but I hadn’t taken mine with me, memories I hadn’t wanted to keep sewn into its fabric.

Dean leaned on the outside of the car looking at a map while Sam talked to his friend. Neither boy bothered me or had talked to me much in the couple of hours since the end of our hunt, perhaps too afraid to ask if I was okay or maybe they didn’t know what to say.

I looked out the window watching the trees dance slowly in the wind after waving bye to Rebecca, listening to the boys talk in front of the car.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asks now ignoring the map.

“ Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder.” Sam jokes smiling, “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.”

Dean rolls his eyes, scuffing, before getting into the car.

We’ve only driven for a couple minutes before Dean brings back the subject of the hunt and everything that had unfolded, “Sorry, man.” Dean suddenly began.

“About what?” Sam responds.

“ I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be….Joe College.” Dean confesses.

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.” Sam admits too.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak.” Dean smiles that charming sweet smile.

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam laughs.

“Well, I’m a freak, too.” Dean adds

“You already know I'm one!” I topple on.

“See, we’re right there with ya, all the way.” Dean chuckles. “Yeah, I know you are.” Sam looks between Dean and I as he speaks.

“Those who freak together, stay together?” I offer with a smile, the car falling into laughter. The kind of laughter that lasts in the air even after it was over with, it was stupid of course but it left a warmth in my heart that blanketed me with just enough comfort to last me till the next state over where I'd be safe.

The car fell silent, big smiles on all our faces, “You know, I gotta say—I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” Dean announces randomly.

“Miss what?” Sam laughs lightly.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”

[punsmaster69]

1/APR/20XX

[After checking the page again, the words have ACTUALLY been written properly this time - with a working pen.]

[A small attached sticky note reads, "heheh. couldn't not, sorry."]

i'm carried out of bed and immediately served chocolate pancakes as papyrus briefs me on the day's plan - all before i even finish waking up fully.

"YOU WANTED TO GO TO AN ARCADE, SO THAT'S WHAT WE'LL DO FIRST - EVERYONE ELSE IS GOING TO MEET US THERE, SO DON'T SAVOUR MY COOKING 𝘛𝘖𝘖 LONG."

" 'k."

"AROUND LUNCHTIME, WE'RE GOING TO STOP BY GRILLBY'S... UNFORTUNATELY."

"AFTER... WE'LL JUST HANG OUT AT MS. TORIEL'S HOUSE FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT; CONSIDERING IT WOULD BE THE CLOSEST."

"ok."

"sounds good."

"...."

he looks over his shoulder to see me still yawning, giving an eyeroll gesture and placing a cup of hot coffee in front of me.

"CAN'T HAVE YOU FALLING BACK ASLEEP IMMEDIATELY, SO DRINK UP!"

"...doesn't work, remember?"

"..RIGHT."

beside it, he places a cup of ice water.

"THAT SHOULD, RIGHT?"

i mumble an affirmative response. papyrus takes this as good enough.

——

"Yo!"

undyne high-fives papyrus, then grabs me for an aggressive noogie.

"Excited for today, you decrepit bag of bones?!"

"PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH HIM, UNDYNE."

this diverts her wrath onto papyrus instead.

"PLEASE BE CAREFUL WITH 𝘔𝘌, UNDYNE!!!"

me and alphys fistbump.

"Good choice."

"figured you'd approve."

"S-Still wish they hadn't plastered that creepy ice cube's face EVERYWHERE in this place. Can't even have one bare wall."

"whaaat? ice-e's an icon."

"Of weird c-corporate marketing."

"and unsolvable puzzles."

"They were always that way, then?"

toriel and frisk - flowey wrapped around the kid's arm - wave as they approach.

frisk nods.

"Even the first one Sans and Papyrus set out for me back in Snowdin was unsolvable."

"IT WAS?!"

"Weird letter inconsistency."

"SANS!! YOU NOT ONLY PUT OUT A 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗦𝗦𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 OF ALL THINGS, BUT AN 𝘐𝘔𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘚𝘐𝘉𝘓𝘌 ONE?!?"

"whoops."

"SIGH."

"REALLY, I DON'T KNOW WHY I SIMPLY DIDN'T DO IT ALL MYSELF!!"

"I CERTAINLY WOULD HAVE CAPTURED THE HUMAN WITH EASE."

"ER-"

"I'M!! GLAD I DIDN'T THOUGH, NOW!!!"

we chat for a while more before actually going inside -

"I MISS THE SUN ALREADY."

- and splitting off towards the games each of us preferred. toriel simply stuck by me to observe whatever i decided on.

somehow, at some point, we ended up just playing air hockey really badly.

𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬.

"Is this how you play??"

"is this how you play???"

repeatedly smacking the pushers together, the puck was ignored.

——

papyrus won a scary amount of tickets and used them to redeem two dart guns. one was instantly hijacked by undyne, who cackled after ricocheting a dart off papyrus' skull. she was going to fire at me, but

"You're spared for today. Don't think I won't get you another time, though!!!"

"..cool."

grillby's wasn't far, and the weather was pleasant, so walking was actually pretty alright.

the bar erupts into noise as we show up. there was a barrage of questions and comments about everyone and everything, but the chaos made any recollections of it blurry. (fun chaos, don't get me wrong.)

i waited for the right moment - somehow, i knew it would happen.

my brother raises his glass of milk.

"WILL EVERYONE PLEASE RISE AND GIVE A TOAST TO MY BROTHER, SANS, WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT IS TODAY?!"

a roaring sound that resembles a "YEAH!!" as everyone in the restaurant rises to their feet.

i move quickly, placing one on each seat - unnoticed amidst the commotion.

"THREE..."

"TWO..."

"ONE!"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SANS!!!"

appearing beside my brother as if i'd not moved at all, i clink a bottle of ketchup with the various other beverages being lifted.

and then a loud,

deafening,

𝙋𝙋𝘽𝘽𝘽𝘽𝘽𝙁𝙁𝙁𝙏𝙏𝙏𝙏

as everyone sits back down.

it was beautiful. enough to make a grown man cry.

tears of laughter, that is.

a magician clown never reveals his secrets, but i sure was asked "HOW?!" a lot.

——

the sun has just finished setting. for the first time today, it's quiet. a gentle breeze cools the day down. toriel and i hang around on the porch to take it in - myself sat upon the rail.

"Are you truly alright with not getting much...?"

"yeah."

"spendin' time with you folks is all i wanted."

"and i got it, so."

"seems like a pretty good birthday to me."

"Still, it feels lackluster to have shown up empty-handed."

"i mean. you brought cake."

"That is a given."

"here."

"if you're really concerned about me not getting any gifts..."

"..."

i gave her a goofy grin.

"gonna be corny for a sec, hope you don't mind."

"I do not have a 𝘤𝘰𝘣-lem with it."

"In fact, I am all 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴."

in that moment, i couldn't have been more certain.

i push myself up into my knees to deposit a quick kiss on her cheek.

"...that can be my gift."

dropping myself back down to sit on the porch rail.

". . ."

"sorry for suddenly 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 that onto you. wanted to 𝘦𝘢𝘳nestly-"

puns were halted as my mouth became suddenly occupied with something else.

when she eventually let go, i found myself sputtering momentarily trying to find my words.

"There. You being on the receiving end makes it much more of a gift, does it not?"

"i-"

"i, uh."

"thought i was supposed to initiate it??"

"The cheek is close enough. And that one, you did."

"I will count it."

"....."

"there's another thing i'm s'posed to do."

"a ques-"

toriel puts her hand over my mouth.

"Do not ask it today."

"We would have to celebrate our anniversaries on your birthday."

"what? you don't want a double-event?"

"There is a multitude of reasons."

"shoot."

"...?"

"gimme 'em. gimme the reasons."

"Firstly, birthdays are to be spent with a multitude of friends and loved ones. Anniversaries are for spending with the romantic interest. To do both of those at once would be impossible."

"Secondly, it would subtract from the specialness of each as well."

"Thirdly-"

"it'd be easier to remember."

she hadn't noticed me slowly inching my face closer and closer to her own until i spoke.

"Th-"

"birthversary rolls right off the tongue, too."

"..."

"I'll show YOU a tongue."

she suddenly sticks out her tongue. my proximity causes me to have to back away quickly.

too quickly.

toriel leaps forward and wraps an arm around me to stop me from going completely backwards off the rail.

"I did not mean for that to happen."

"good catch."

"Oddly, not the first time you have fallen from my railing."

"yeah, i'm gettin' 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭 good at doing that accidentally."

"Hehehe."

"Do I need to install rails for my rails?"

"gonna box me in, huh?"

"If it will stop you from falling, then maybe I will."

𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘬.

"WE'VE DECIDED ON A SLEEPOVER-"

we both looked to the back door.

with a blanket draped over his right arm, papyrus stopped speaking to stare at us blankly for a moment.

arms wrapped around each other, being bent over the rail, her hips between my legs...

"..I ASSUME YOU ARE BUSY."

"....."

"might be a minute."

promptly spinning 180 on his heels, papyrus went back inside; carrying the same expression the whole time.

immediately bursting into laughter, tori lifts me up the rest of the way and places me on the porch.

"Awkward-looking situations seem to be your forte, my dear."

"no kidding."

"At least it was Papyrus."

"yeah."

"..."

"so, can i ask you the-"

"Another time."

"ok."

[thrawns-babygirl]

Insufferable (Crosshair x Fem!Reader 18+)

Summary: After you and Cross have an argument, he takes care of himself in the shower and he can't stand it.

Word Count: 1064

Warnings: Masturbation (M), Gags, Jealous!Crosshair, pissed off!Crosshair

A/N: Still getting the hang of writing and am scared to do anything with a lot of long form dialogue because its HARD so have some self indulgent Crosshair Smut while I work my way up to longer fics. Please tell me if this is garbage lmao i want to improve

Also pls send in some Crosshair requests! I'm really keen to write for the community otherwise this blog is going to devolve into really derange self indulgent kinks lmao

Sitting down in The Batch’s barracks after yet another successful mission, the topic of conversation shifted to the competition that Wrecker and Crosshair had every time they engaged with separatist forces. Crosshair was sulking, which was not unusual when you two were in the same room together, you were constantly bickering with one another, sending teasing and oftentimes scathing remarks back and forth trying to get a rise out of one another. Tonight, however it was compounded by the fact that he lost their little contest by a rather large margin.

“Well maybe you would have won if you were actually in the fight with your brothers instead of hiding up on that ridge. But Wrecker won this round fair and square.” You smirk over at the grumpy sniper as you finish up your routine post mission check up of the squad’s vitals. You were rarely needed to provide any actual medical assistance, but you were there to ensure that the Kaminoan’s premier squad was kept in good health in between long stints off-world.

“You wouldn’t know the first thing about being in the field, there is a lot more to it than you think, maybe try going out onto the front lines before you tell me I’m not doing enough, before you tell me I’m hiding” Crosshair bites out at you, removing the toothpick from between his lips and flicking it off to the side, earning him a chiding look from Hunter as it lands on the floor.

“Well I wouldn’t exactly call being a sniper up on a hill away from all the action ‘the front lines’ but whatever makes you feel better about losing Cross” You give him a sickeningly sweet smile as you input the Batch’s vitals into your datapad preparing to retreat to your own quarters for the night. You didn't mean it, the other boys knew you didn't mean it, but he always took the bait and getting a rise out of him was just so fun.

Glaring at you, Crosshair stood up and retreated into the refresher of the Batch’s barracks, grumbling various curses under his breath as he went. When the door closed behind him you turn to Hunter; “Too much?” you ask standing and walking towards the door to their barracks.

“Nah, he’s always dishing out way worse, needs to learn how to take it too” Hunter chuckles as he walks you to the door, he and the rest of the batch wishing you a good night as you turn and head towards the medbay to update their files before turning in for the night.

Closing the ‘fresher door he takes a deep breath his body betraying him as his concealed cock throbs against the hard plastoid of his codpiece.  He begins ridding himself of his armour, letting each piece clatter unceremoniously to the floor with a dull thud. Looking down to his traitorous biology he turned on the water, determined to have a cold shower and get you out of his head. Even if you would never know, he wasn’t going to let you have any power over him as he stands under the icy spray.

You were so utterly annoying, always sending cutting remarks his way, always trying to get under his skin, always trying to one up him. For a lousy doctor who had never seen the front lines you had an awful lot to say about how he and his brothers did their job.

So why couldn’t he get you out of his head? Why did your stupid fucking smirk make him want to tear your clothes off and shove his aching length into your cunt? Why did every back and forth send blood rushing south, ruining his resolve? He hated you… right?

Sighing and closing his eyes he tries to think about anything else to will his erection away, but you would not leave his mind’s eye. You were insufferable, a know it all, absolutely unbearable but also… exactly Crosshair’s type, quick witted, didn’t shy away from his abrasive personality and to top it all off you were gorgeous. Your uniform, while unflattering on most people, hugged your body in all the right ways, accentuating your curves and making you, at least in Crosshair’s eyes, utterly irresistible.

With a resigned sigh, his hand wanders down to his still rock hard, weeping cock. Now angrier with himself than you he begins running his hand along his shaft, thumbing his slit he releases a low groan as he began picturing you in more and more vulgar positions. He imagined you here in the refresher with him, on your knees, mouth open and QUIET for once as he shoved his length in and out of your mouth working up the tempo until he was fucking your face, head of his cock reaching the back of your throat as you gagged around him, tears streaming from your eyes as you struggled to take his girth.

Letting out a choked moan as he continued to fuck his closed fist, he let his mind wander further, to bending you over his bunk in the barracks while his brothers were out doing maker knows what, panties shoved in your mouth to muffle your moans as his hips piston in and out of your soaked pussy. Fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise, making his bunk groan out in protest at the wild pace he set, he pictured your muffled whimpers and groans as you took everything that he would give you like a good little slut. Your muscles clenching around him as he grew ever closer to his own release.

He would let you speak only to beg him to let you cum, to beg for him to cum in your cunt, beg for him to claim you. Tell him that only he could give you what you wanted as he pounded into you. He would ruin you for other men. He knows for a fact you’ve fucked regs in the past and the thought made his blood boil. He could fuck you better than any reg ever could. He would leave his mark on your body and soul.

Vigorously stroking his aching length, he brought his hand up to his mouth as he neared his end, biting down as he sprayed the ‘fresher wall with his seed, wanting more than anything to paint your stupid annoying face with his spend as you looked up at him and thank him for his gracious gift.

You were insufferable…. But maybe he didn’t actually hate you.

[youngpettyqueen]

Since you are asking for DS9 short fic requests, could you please do #6 “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” of the writing prompt list with some Julian Bashir whump? (But no character death please!) ❤️

you got it anon! and worry not, writing character death fics isnt really my thing, so no chance of me killing anybody <3

also since you didnt specify anybody else in the scene I decided to have Miles be there! hope that's ok I just have them on the brain

Miles wonders if this is how Julian feels every time a mission leaves him half-dead.

He can't stop pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, he's going to pace a ditch right through the cave floor at the rate he's going. He tried sitting and holding still, but that just made him feel like he was itchy under his skin, twitchy with nerves. So, pacing it is. Pacing and cursing how quiet it is.

Any other day he'd be grateful for the quiet. Today, though, he hates it. Because Julian isn't quiet, he isn't capable of being quiet, and right now he's dead silent.

Miles glances over. Julian is just as unconscious as he was last time he looked over, which was all of two minutes ago if he's being generous. Still and quiet, so goddamn quiet. He finds himself moving closer, just so he can make sure that Julian's chest is, in fact, still rising and falling.

And then he's kneeling down. He's checking the dressing over Julian's stomach. Again. He's not a doctor, he doesn't know what he would even be looking for here, but he's checking anyways. He can't help it. It makes him feel better.

The dressing is still clean. Miles is sure that's a good thing- that means he hasn't bled through it yet. Considering all he's had to work with is a dermal regenerator on the fritz and some bandages, he'd say that's pretty good. Sure, Julian might be able to save the entire station with less than that, but, well... Julian's the one who needs saving this time.

It was supposed to be a simple away mission. It's always supposed to be a simple away mission, really. They were delivering medical supplies to a Federation colony, helping them deal with a nasty outbreak of some sort of flu that Miles can't remember the name of. They were well on their way, spending the time arguing over who actually won their last game of darts, casual as can be.

And then they got shot down.

Miles didn't see who it was. Could've been Cardassians, could've been Maquis, could've been literally anybody this side of the Quadrant. All he knows is one second things were great, and the next his console was exploding and throwing him across the cockpit, and Julian was wrestling with the controls to aim them at the closest planet. He threw himself back into his seat and did his best to help, but there was no saving their landing. They crashed. Violently.

Miles woke up on the floor, bruised all over but still breathing. And Julian was hunched over the console, unmoving just like he is now. But there, he was awake. He was all-too awake, and he wasn't moving, because he'd been flung into the splintered console, and it was embedded deep in his gut.

He's never going to forget the sounds Julian let out as he pulled him off the console. It was a mercy he'd passed out right after, going limp and lifeless in Miles' arms the second he was free. Gave him a bloody heart attack, thinking for a brief second he'd just up and died, but it at least made it easy to gather Julian up in his arms and carry him out of the wreckage.

It's not a good situation. Their medical supplies was destroyed in the crash, and the medkit and all its contents were either damaged or broken beyond use. The dermal regenerator barely managed anything before it sparked out and nearly exploded in his hand. They've got a transmitter, at least, but it was damaged in the crash and he has to check it every few minutes to make sure it's still working.

And Julian won't wake up.

Miles' gaze travels up to Julian's face. Perfectly still, damn near peaceful, except there's a thin sheen across his forehead and he's pale under his skin. A pinch to his brows betrays the pain he's still in, even unconscious. The kit had one working hypo that he could find, and he'd given it to Julian without hesitation. He's not in the best shape himself, battered and bruised as he is, but that's all small potatoes compared to Julian.

It's probably a mercy that he's staying unconscious. Miles doesn't envy the pain he'd be in if he were awake. Still, there's a big, selfish part of him that wishes Julian was awake. Because then, at least, it wouldn't be quiet. He's never hated quiet before today. He'd be happy to never have to deal with complete silence ever again.

"I don't know if you can hear me," He says, mainly just to fill the space, "And I really hope you can't, because I'd never say this to you if you were awake, but... you're the best friend I've got, Julian. And I'm really not ready to let that end here," He admits, his voice quiet even though there's nobody else around, "Cause, y'know, we've got that holosuite reservation next week, and Quark won't consider your death grounds for a refund. And... I'd miss you, so there's that," God, this is hard. Julian's fucking unconscious and this is still so hard, "I'd... I'd really miss you, Julian, so... I guess what I'm saying is... you're not allowed to die," He reaches, like he's going to take Julian's hand, but comes up short, "You can't die. So, please don't. Die, that is." He ends up patting Julian's arm. It feels awkward and stiff, but anything else feels too much like he's saying goodbye, and he's really not trying to say goodbye right now.

"Is that..." Miles' head snaps up, and he finds himself meeting Julian's half-open eyes, "Is that... an order, Chief...?" He asks weakly, managing an obnoxious smile, even now.

"Oh, you bastard," Miles breathes, because yeah, of course Julian woke up in time to listen to that, "You right bastard. How much of that did you hear?" He asks.

Julian grins, blood painting his teeth. "Enough," He replies, like an asshole, "You'd... miss me?" He questions, looking far too smug for a man halfway to death.

"Absolutely not," Miles informs him, sniping purely out of habit and with no real heat behind his words, "But Keiko would miss you, and I hate to see Keiko upset, so I guess I need you to stay alive." He continues.

"How's it feel... knowing your wife would miss me?" Julian asks, still grinning like a smug clown.

"Don't push your luck, Julian," Miles tells him, with undeniable fondness, "It'd be far too easy to make it look like the crash killed you."

Julian croaks a laugh. And maybe this is the moment where Miles should say something heartfelt. Like how he actually would miss Julian, a whole hell of a lot. Or how glad he is that he's alive. Or how relieved he is to hear the sound of his voice. But Julian already knows those things, and spilling his heart out while Julian bleeds his guts out would feel way too much like they're having their final conversation. This banter, though, is familiar. It's them. And it lets him say we're going to get through this without actually saying it.

So, he doesn't say anything nice. Instead, he gets back into arguing about darts. Because then Julian is talking, and it isn't quiet anymore, and he can hide in the familiarity of their arguing and convince himself that everything's going to be ok.

(And it is. Miles has to kick the transmitter a few more times, but a rescue comes. Julian is fine, he won't even have a scar. And if Miles relents and begrudgingly admits, at last, that maybe Julian won their game, well... maybe that's his way of saying he's glad Julian's alright.)

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello! Could I please get a cricket crew (those who are okay with x reader Ofc) with a reader who tends to spoil them to the point it’s almost concerning? :)

yes. honestly didn't know what I was doing here so I apologize I got major writers block while doing this and idk why

HANDSOME BROS ; spoiling them

includes ; tommyinnit, tubbo, ranboo & badlinu

warnings ; language

masterlist

TOMMYINNIT

if he's sad, you're there with a blanket, a bowl of soup and his favorite movie

constantly tweeting "guys my bf is so cool he just bought me lunch" and "got a little present for mr tom simons..."

you completely spoil him and love and your money LMAO

he knows that gift giving is one of your love languages but JESUS CHRIST

like it's not even for a reason anymore, you just spoil him so much

like if he's eyeing something at the store, you might have to surprise him with it later

he feels so bad

"y/n/n, yknow I have my own money and you don't need to spoil me, right?"

you shrug and nod like yeah you know, but will you stop? nope

he appreciates it but like he's running out of space to put all the shit you get him

he genuinely has to sit you down to talk about it because he's worried it's just love bombing and you're slowly giving up on the love in the relationship and using things to replace your fallen love for him

you apologize a trillion times because that's definitely not what's happening, you just love spoiling him

but yeah new rules, you can only buy him 1 thing a week

because he's genuinely worried about your bank account

go pay your taxes

TUBBO

ever since day one he's been confused by the sheer amount of gift giving you do

like you'll cherish him with your words yeah, but the amount of things you get him is a little absurd

you constantly buy him new blankets and hoodies

even gift him most of your merch store 💀

you'll show up in the middle of stream w dinner for him

like a whole homemade dinner and he's very grateful dw

but he's kinda worried

maybe it's a trauma response or coping mechanism to make him stay in your life

but no amount of reassuring you that he's gonna leave you will stop it

he's very appreciative that you'll spend money and time on him but yeesh

it starts to make him feel really bad and it gets to the point where he lightly asks you to lighten up on it a bit

like don't you have groceries to pay for? buy some stuff for yourself if you need to burn some money man

plus he feels bad being so spoiled by you, he doesn't wanna accidentally somehow set this standard on you to always be there

plus he's not your boyfriend to financially drain you, he's your boyfriend cause he loves and cares about you

RANBOO

constantly shouting them out online like "congrats to ranboo cause u won boyfriend of the year, prize is bragging rights and me!!" and "ranboo solos"

gifting them any sort of plushie they ever show interest in

straight up doordashing them food mid stream and donating like "ran go check the door"

they love being spoiled but when it gets bad, they sit down and talk to you about it

"is it a trauma response? do you think im gonna leave if you don't spoil me enough?"

you talk about it for a while and how it's just how you show love and how people only seem to listen to you when you got them things instead of told them that you loved and cared about them

another long talk ensues

don't worry, he's never leaving

and you feel bad after so you get him a glow squid plushie!

you mightve missed the point but it's alright

FREDDIE BADLINU

at first he's like "awe, thank you darling" but it's gotten so bad that he's actually worried for the stability of your bank account

you constantly shower him in love online and stuff

always gifting him clothes he'd like, blankets, candles, etc

always tweeting shit like "Freddie badlinu pls be my husband now :D" and "@/badlinu I have kisses awaiting come recieve your gift"

he greatly appreciates that you spend money on him and think about him so often but please calm down bae

yall talk about it and you promise to ease up some

he just feels really bad that you spend so much money on him

he appreciates all the words of affirmation and stuff and how you hype him up I swear LMAO

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 29

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

"What about this jacket?"

"What about it?" I ask.

"Does it look good with these jeans?"

"Yeah."

"Val, you haven't looked at me."

"You look really good" I say, quickly looking at Pedri and then back at my laptop.

"You didn't have time to check me out."

"Pedri, right now I only have time to finish this before the last day of school. I'm sorry."

"You could do with a break."

"I actually could, yes" I sigh. "My eyes are starting to hurt."

"A good way to make them feel better is by looking at your hot and extremely handsome boyfriend."

"You are so modest" I laugh. 

"But I'm not lying, am I?" 

"Well…"

"Rude" Pedri says, sticking out his tongue. "What are you going to wear?" he says while getting changed.

"What do you mean?"

"The Barça party, Val. What are you going to wear?"

"What?" I ask with a confused look.

"Don't you remember? We talked about it a few days ago. The club is throwing an end of the season party to celebrate that we won the Copa del Rey."

"No, we didn't talk about it."

"We did, Val" he says, rolling his eyes. "It took me ages to convince you to come with me."

"You convinced me to go to Ter Stegen's party, not one by the club."

"You said yes to both!"

"I didn't!"

"You did! I already told them that you are coming with me and they saved you a seat!"

"Then tell them to cancel it, because I'm not going" I shrug.

"What?"

"I'm not going" I repeat.

"Val, c'mon" he says, sitting down on the bed next to me. "It's just a party."

"No."

"C'mon…"

"I said no."

"But why? We promised we would tell each other everything, Val. That this time we were going to do it right."

"I know."

"Then why don't you want to go to the party? Are you afraid that because it is a Barça one, it may make Real Madrid finally forbid you from going back to the Bernabéu?" Pedri asks with a teasing smile.

"They've probably done that already. I'm sleeping with the enemy, stupidly in love with him, and a couple of weeks ago I celebrated that they won a title."

"I think Florentino will understand. He knows I'm irresistible."

"Maybe not so much if they didn't want to sign you" I smirk.

"That's low, Val" he chuckles. "Anyway, the party."

"Yeah, change the topic" I laugh.

"The party. Why don't you want to go?"

"Because…" I say, taking a deep breath. "Because it is a club party, and that means photographers waiting outside to catch you all arriving. The moment they see us together, they will go crazy and take a million photos of us that will end up on the internet five minutes later, and your fans will go nuts like happened after your interview on La Resistencia."

"That could happen, yes."

"It will happen. And things won't be nice after that. They will tear me to pieces and overanalyze everything, from what I'm wearing to the way we are looking at each other, holding hands… everything. And when they realize I am Ferran's supposed girlfriend, they'll start theorizing about me being the reason why he left, that I cheated on him with you, that I was seeing you both at the same time, that we were a threesome…"

"What?" he laughs.

"It's the internet" I shrug. "But there is more. Because the moment someone who knows me sees those photos, they'll start gossiping about it and judging me because I'm dating someone way younger and who happens to be a football player. And then whoever exposed me after the Camp Nou incident, which I believe was Isabel, will start posting photos about me, sharing details about my life, definitely lie… It will get nasty."

"Or not."

"It will, Pedri. You know it will. And I'm not ready to go through all that yet."

"Ok… But what if we don't arrive together? What if we do it in a group with Gavi and Eric and some others? That way they won't know who you are attending with."

"No."

"Then what if…"

"I said no, Pedro!"

"There is no need to yell, Valeria!"

"Then stop insisting! I don't even know why it is so important if I go to that stupid party or not."

"Because it isn't stupid?" he laughs. "We are celebrating that I won a title, remember?" 

"One we already celebrated when you won it. I don't need to do it again."

"Val…" Pedri sighs. "I'm tired."

"So am I. I've been working on this thing for ages."

"Not like that" he says, rolling his eyes. "I'm tired of this. Of us hiding our relationship, of arguing because of it." 

"We are not hiding anything, we are being private. It isn't the same."

"We are hiding it, Val. Since the world knows I have a girlfriend, we are constantly worried about someone seeing us together and taking a photo to the point that we don't even go outside for a walk around my neighborhood. And I can't keep living like this. I want to be able to do normal things with my girlfriend like we used to."

"It isn't that easy, Pedri."

"I know, but… There must be some middle ground, right? It doesn't have to be black or white. And I understand your fears, I truly do. The way some people will react also scares me. But I… I need more, Val."

"I'm already going to the other party" I say. "And I promise I will mingle with the others, that I won't sit down in a corner and look miserable."

"Ok" he says. "But what about us, Val? About not hiding?" 

"I can't give you more right now, Pedri. You know how chaotic things are at the school, and then with my mum nothing has improved, it has actually gotten worse. I can't add more to it, more worries."

"Yeah…"

"I'm sorry, Pedri" I say, reaching for his hand.

"It's ok" he replies, avoiding my touch before getting up from the bed and leaving the room. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Oh my God, it can't be. Valeria at a party? I must be dreaming."

"Shut up, Ferran."

"I've missed you too" he chuckles. "Hello, bro" he says to Pedri.

"Hi" he replies. "I'm gonna go get myself a beer."

"I also want… one" I say. But he has left already, definitely not hearing me. Or not wanting to.

"What happened, Val?" 

"Uh?"

"Between you and Pedri. What happened to make him act like that?" Ferran asks me.

"I happened" I sigh. "But I don't want to bother you with our problems."

"Val, you guys are my friends. Let me help you."

Since he had left Barcelona, things between Ferran, Pedri and I had kind of gone back to normal. Or as normal as they could be. So maybe...

"Ok, fine" I sigh again. "Why don't you get me a beer and I tell you everything? We also have to catch up on your new life in Manchester."

"Perfect. But you go first."

"I go first" I say, trying to smile.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Val…"

"I know, Ferran. I know."

"You have to do something."

"Yes, but what?"

"I… I don't know… But look at the people here at this party. You see some of the girls supporting their partners at their games and then don't hear about them again. It doesn't have to be hiding or posting about each other on Instagram 24/7, you know?"

"I know. Find a middle ground like Pedri said."

"Exactly!"

"But that's easier said than done, Ferran. Because these girls don't have an army of rabid teenagers following every step their boyfriend takes and tearing apart every woman who dares to go close to him" I say.

"Val, you need to stop worrying so much about the teenagers. Yes, they will cry, and get mad, and write disgusting things. But there will also be fans who will support your relationship and ship you like Marina says because they can see how happy Pedri is with you. Not all of them are brainless" he laughs.

"I know. The nasty ones usually are just a loud minority. Or a very loud minority in this case."

"Then let them scream all they want and live your life, Val. You've had a tough year, so enjoy your holidays with Pedri and don't give a shit about what anyone says. Just be happy."

"When did you become so wise, Ferran?" I laugh. "Is it the Manchester air?"

"The air… and a certain redhead perhaps" he smiles.

"What? Tell me everything. Now."

"Maybe another day. Now you are gonna go mingle with the other wags like you promised Pedri."

"Please don't call me a wag, I hate it."

"Ok" he laughs. "Now go talk with the girls."

"Fine, I'm going. But you owe me a conversation" I say, threatening him with my finger.

"And you will have it. Now go."

"Thank you, Ferran" I smile.

"Anything for you, Val" he replies.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"That was nice, wasn't it?" Pedri says on our way home after the party.

"Yeah."

"Thank you for keeping your promise, by the way."

"Uh?"

"About talking with the other girls. When I saw you with Ferran I thought you would spend the rest of the night with him."

"Nah… though he owes me a conversation. Did you know he is seeing someone?"

"He also owes me that conversation" Pedri laughs. "But what did you talk about, then?"

"Us. I mean, you and I. He gave me a really good piece of advice."

"May I ask what it is?"

"That I need to stop worrying about the crazy teenagers and live my life. So that's what I'm gonna do this summer. Enjoy my holidays and my boyfriend and not care about anything else."

"Really?" 

"Yep. And since I'm into keeping my promises… I promise you I will do that. Enjoy the summer and you."

"And I promise I will make you enjoy the summer, me, and yourself" he smirks.

"Always thinking about the same, Pedro" I say, rolling my eyes. 

"I could promise you I will stop thinking with my dick, but…"

"Not happening."

"Nope" he laughs. "But I can promise you another thing."

"I'm listening."

"I can promise you that I will love you until the day I die."

"You are so cheesy" I laugh. "But I promise that too."

"You do?"

"I do. I love you, Pedri" I say, kissing his cheek.

"I love you too" he smiles.

[arthurthethird]

First request for @arthurmorgansleftear

I hope this will be good enough since it's pretty much first request I do on here. Please enjoy.

Camp boahs comforting reader after Micah comments on their weight

Gn!reader

The day started calmly. Birds singing, fish swimming, rats wondering around the kitchen.

Speaking of kitchen, you decided it's a good time to get some food. You haven't eaten in a while and a good outlaw has to eat plenty, so you decided it's your time.

Speaking of rats, it so happened that one of the camp rats was sitting there. Not really doing anything else than sipping whiskey, a sight no one can be surprised about.

You calmly ignored him. You learnt that that's the best way for you to go on with your day without having to break his nose.

Yet he always asks for it.

Even now.

As soon as he saw you approaching, Micah immediately grinned.

"Didn't expect you here"

You stay quiet, only giving him a confused glance.

Now, depending on your silhouette, he'll find a way to get under your skin.

Either "Didn't you come here today already?" "And I've been wondering where all the food goes..." "Look at that, you'll soon have to buy yourself new clothes if you keep eating so much!"

Or "first time in a month, ey?" "You finally decided to eat! Everyone thought you're sick" "If you like starving so much, why are we wasting our food on you?"

He has his ways.

And we all know he doesn't have the perfect body either, so you try to ignore him.

Try to.

Of course, it doesn't end well, since you end up trying to hide your feelings.

It hurt. Of course it did, why wouldn't it?

You quickly walk away, not even bothering to actually eat something. You only hear his sickening laugh as you walk away.

He knows he has won.

~

Arthur's first reaction as soon as he heard that familiar laugh was to check what's going on.

Obviously if Micah's happy, someone's not.

You bumped into him just as he walked towards the place.

His hands landed on your shoulders as he looked down to you.

Now, Arthur might be an idiot, but he can easily read someone's emotions from their face.

You were hurt. Micah was happy.

That bastard.

He looked at you with a concerned look.

"what happened?"

You just mutter that it's nothing. That it's just Micah trying to get under your skin. And that's what takes him over the edge.

Arthur walks up to the blonde rat and punches him right in the face.

While Micah's busy cursing him out, he takes you by the arm, gently, but firmly, and walks to your tent.

You want to ask what is he doing, but before you can, he hugs you.

Telling you that you shouldn't listen to stupid Micah. You're beautiful and everyone in the camp knew that.

Then he brings you a bowl of Pearson's stew.

You try to decline but he basically shoves it down your throat.

"Don't listen to that son of a bitch. You have to eat no matter what."

~

Charles isn't even bothered at first.

He learned to stay away out of camp conflict, so he couldn't be bothered.

But when he sees that it's you who's stomping away from Micah, he quickly jumps into action.

He walks to you, asking what happened.

Even if you don't want to tell, he makes you.

As soon as he hears what happened, he goes for the rat.

You know that moment where Charles throws Micah because he said something assholish?

Yea, that. He does that.

After that he walks to you and sits you down for a proper talk.

And that means him telling you why the food's important and why you're beautiful no matter how much you eat.

Then he gets some food and goes to his own tent, pulling you along of course.

Proceeds to feed you.

"You need energy. Besides, I didn't caught that deer for you to not try it."

~

John immediately tries to locate where what is happening.

As soon as he sees you with Micah, he gets up and makes his way over there.

He heard everything while coming over.

Wraps an arm around you, covering your ears and proceeds to curs the snake out.

You stand there, not knowing if you're supposed to cry or laughed.

You just watch Micah's expression go from annoyed to confused.

You didn't even noticed that John leaded you away.

He went outside the camp with you and looked at you.

Proceeds to hug the shit out of you.

Telling you that you shouldn't listen because what you eat is your deal.

And it definitely shouldn't impact on your self image.

For one's he said something smart.

"I don't care what other people say about you, you're goddamn beautiful. And everyone in the camp knows that. Shut up, you can't disagree"

~

Hosea usually doesn't care about the camp fights.

Prefers to stay out of it unless it includes him directly.

But he heard you mutter something to yourself.

So he raised his head from the newspaper to see what was going on.

Oh boy.

He doesn't do much.

Just gets up, rolls the newspaper, walks to Micah and smacks his head with it.

He ignores the rat cursing him out. Instead walks to you and leads you back to the fire.

Similar to Charles, explains why eating is important, telling you that you're beautiful and who cares about what Micah says.

He gives you a hug, then encourages you to eat something.

If you don't want to, he'll leave you alone.

But definitely will come to check on you every night.

"You gotta eat. So what if someone cares, are you harming them with your food?"

~

Dutch heard everything.

He was smoking a cigar outside of his tent when he noticed the situation.

Immediately walks there.

"What's going on?"

Micah tries to show the situation to Dutch as lighthearted, but when he noticed the leader isn't buying it, he looked away grumbling.

Dutch proceeds to explain to him that they accept everyone and that he didn't care about Micah's looks when he took him in.

He then takes you to his tent, sitting down with you and asking what was that about.

Talks you through why you think what he said might be true.

Basically a therapist.

He then gives you a hug, telling you to eat something.

"we need you big and strong! Another job's comin'!"

~

Javier was playing his guitar nearby.

As soon as he sees Micah's mouth open, he stops, turning his full attention there.

As soon as he starts talking, Javier took his guitar, walks there and smacks his head.

Micah will definitely have a bruise, but who cares.

Curses him out in Spanish.

Then pulls you with him back to his tent.

He let's you vent about everything.

Then plays you a song while you lean to him, bummed out.

After that, definitely makes you eat something.

"I know it's hard mi amigo, but you have to try!"

~

Sean is confused when he sees you walking away without the food.

He didn't hear anything happening, he only knew that you went to eat.

He gets up, going to you.

"where's your food?"

You look at him and mumble you weren't hungry.

He's confused, but then looks over to where you came from.

Ah. Micah.

He narrows his eyes and walk over there. You try to tell him it's okay, but he doesn't stop.

"oi! Don't bother my friend!"

Basically screams at him to the point his accent is too thick to be even able to understand.

It doesn't do much, but you appreciate it.

He then walks over you and cups your cheeks.

"look, I love you Y/N, but I don't want to have to stuff food down your throat"

Tries to make you laugh.

Eventually ends up eating with you so you'll feel better.

[madelinetess]

So what if he got a little aggressive on the pitch today? Richard played the same way he lived, passionately. And as Zava said before the match, passion can mean both love and crime. Also fruit… and the Christian meaning… The word is actually pretty versatile… But it mostly means the first two things…

Today though, the passion meant that the quiet rage he felt ever since the team discovered that the BELIEVE sign was torn finally found its outlet.

He knew who was to blame and he saw red. Both figuratively and literally... He smiled to himself when he remembered the sound the ball made on contact with the Westham player when he slammed it into him. The red card was absolutely worth it.

He didn't really remember much of what happened afterwards. He knew that Isaac carried him off the field, but everything after that was a blur.

Coach Lasso's locker room talk was short and yet Richard still did not retain a word of it. The bus ride back home was spent sitting in silence, focusing extra hard on not exploding and ruining the already shitty mood of the rest of the team.

One thing however did manage to get him out of his spiral. A pair of blue eyes studying him carefully. Scanning every inch of his tensed up body. Jan Maas, sitting right next to him, was staring at him intently which was throwing Richard off. The French player glared back at his friend.

"There are already clips of you throwing that ball at the Westham Player on the internet" the Dutchman said, his accent seeping into the sentence. "On one hand it was incredibly satisfying and..." he paused and cleared his throat "and entertaining to watch, but he did not deserve it."

"What do you mean!?" A few people turned in their seats to look at them.

"He was not the one that ripped the sign. That was Nate. We should have won this match to show him who he messed with"

"Oi, Jan Maas" Jamie butted in "weren't cha also pissed?"

"I'm not saying I wasn't, this time I indeed played badly. The thing is, we hurt ourselves more than we harmed them." At this point almost everyone was listening in on the conversation.

"I'd say the poor fella that Dickie over here knocked down got plenty harmed" This time it was Colin that decided to comment and more than a few people nodded their heads clearly sharing the sentiment.

"Someone even made an edit of the moment! It's trending now!" Dani exclaimed with that radiant smile of his, and soon after a notification went off on everyone's phone as a link to the aforementioned clip found its way into the groupchat. 

And just like that a little bit of life returned to the not so long ago gloomy footballers, the bus got livelier and the conversations seemed to at least slightly brighten everybody's mood.

The Frenchman however could not force himself to join any of them. He just sat there unmoving, looking out the window, not focusing on anything in particular. 

Once back at their home stadium the whole team got out of the bus, and people all went their separate ways. Richard sat down inside his car and exhaled deeply while leaning his forehead on the steering wheel. 

The silence bothered him, so he turned on the radio, but as soon as the Adele CD Jan had gifted him for Christmas started playing, he immediately turned it off. Rolling in the Deep was not the song for now… However much he loved her, today was not the day… They could have had it all, but he messed it up. And they lost. 

Richard took out his phone to check the time, but was instead greeted by a text notification.

I'm coming over. Bring up some wine.

Why would Jan be coming over today, was he not tired? Was he not frustrated? All that Richard wanted to do now was to sleep off the loss, and maybe the wine part didn't sound so bad right now...

He somehow managed to get himself back home just in time to take a quick shower, throw on something comfy and make the trip to his cellar to pick something for them to drink.

While entering his kitchen he was greeted by Jan, rummaging through the cupboards to find the right wine glasses. It wasn't exactly a surprise, as they both owned the keys to each other's places since the last off-season and met up quite often, however Richard has just recently reorganised his kitchen, so the Dutchman was struggling to find the right glassware.

"In the middle one, the ones behind your usual mug."

"These?"

The man holding the bottle only nodded.

"Where to? The living room?"

"No offence to your really nice couch, but this is a bed-comfort level of conversation."

This was also nothing new. They had conversations where a park bench was sufficient, but they also had the privacy of a living room and comfort of a sofa types of talks. This one? This one apparently required the highest level of comfort that only a bed with an excessive amount of throw pillows could provide.

They both made their way upstairs and once in the bedroom, Richard set up the table for their glasses, while Jan threw an additional blanket on the bed. Once done with their respective tasks they both turned to look at each other.

"So..?"

"You are still angry" Jan said simply stating the obvious. Richard stood next to him quietly sipping on the wine. "I envy your passion," the Dutchman paused for a moment there, smiling softly to himself "but I also know that now you have nothing to target it at, and you will just let it get to your head. So I’m here so that you are not alone with your thoughts.”

“I’m not angry”

“Of course, and Jamie Tartt is not a prick”

Richard rolled his eyes at Jan and exhaled annoyedly, but put his glass down at the table he set up, and sat down on the bed motioning for his friend to join him. The Dutchman followed.

“I am not angry, I’m disappointed. In myself." The other footballer clearly wanted to interject, but the Frenchman continued before that could happen. “I should have played better. Just like you said, we should have proved them all wrong, and instead we threw the game. I am so mad that even Adele didn’t help…”

“Adele?”

Richard leaned back to rest his head against the wall behind them.

“Yes, I have the CD you got me for Christmas in my car. A song played and the words made me feel even worse, so I turned it off and you know I never turn off Adele”

Another shaky exhale on his part was followed by Jan’s hand making its way into Richard’s hair and combing through them. The shorter man, though surprised at first, leaned into the touch.

“I know how much that sign meant to me, and how angry I got seeing Nate tearing it, so I can’t imagine how you felt. I know how sentimental you are.”

The Dutchman’s fingers kept on getting tangled in the other’s hair, running soothing circles on his scalp while Richard listened to him.

“When you were telling me the story about the ghosts from the treatment room you mentioned the sand in the bottle, according to your retelling everyone else brought some object, be it a photo or a pair of shoes, but you brought sand…” Richard nodded slightly and leaned into his friend that was now sitting right next to him with his back also against the wall. “And for my first Christmas here I remember you bringing things that were your family tradition to the Higgins’ Christmas Party… Don’t even get me started on your photo album organisation system…”

At that they both exchanged a chuckle. It was true that Richard liked keeping all his photos meticulously organised in countless albums. Every team outing or a trip somewhere had a separate photo album complete with dates… 

Jan looked at him and smiled warmly before continuing.

“You love with passion and without remembrance… You feel so much… even for the tiniest things… Sometimes I wish I was the sand…”

Realising what he’d said, Jan stopped everything he was doing, and Richard, who was mostly asleep at that moment shot up and looked straight at his… friend? 

Time stood still and Jan sat there, hand still in Richard’s hair, terrified, waiting. The way he felt for so long, out in the open. And then the Frenchman spoke.

“Don’t.” Jan was ready to make his escape, but got cornered by the shorter man who threw his leg over his and was now sitting on his lap caging him between his body and the wall. “Don’t wish for that. I’d much rather have you as a person, than as some grains”

“Do you mean it?” Jan’s blue eyes stared firmly into Richard’s green ones.

“I didn’t drink nearly enough to start speaking nonsense. Of course I mean it.” He was looking at his lips. Then he was no longer looking at them, because they were covered with his own, hidden from everyone else in the world.

Jan’s hands stayed in Richard’s hair, but Richard’s roamed all over his neck, their kiss slowly but surely gaining momentum. There was no trace of the anger or disappointment that marked this day ever since the recording was presented to the team after the first half. The passion however, the passion that has always been there, somewhere under the surface, was now out in the late evening sun, and it was there to stay.

~~~

The ao3 link is here

[muninnhuginn]

Hi Mun!!! I wanted to ask if you have any other kdramas or cdramas you would want to recommend? :0 I still need to catch up with Stranger/Secret Forest, but I’m curious if there are any others I should check out too!

That I do.

Okay so I'm trying to decide how much to factor in enjoyment vs quality here because I have a few shows I really enjoyed but are, um, well, you have to let some stuff pass.

I will mention that my tastes in terms of romancey stuff tends to lean towards non-existent or subtle and so that's largely reflected in my recs. The only exception to this on the list is Flower of Evil. (I didn't intend it but this list doesn't actually have any main BLs/GLs either. A lot of people ship various combos of the main three in MLC and WCL though.)

Shows below cut in no particular order:

Flower of Evil

(modern kdrama)

I wasn't sure how to start with this one so I'll just nab the description from Wikipedia as it's actually fairly accurate here:

Baek Hee-sung is a man who hides his identity and past from his wife Cha Ji-won, a detective. On the surface, they appear to be the perfect family: A loving couple with a beautiful six-year-old daughter who adores her parents. Cha Ji-won and her colleagues begin investigating a series of unexplained murders and she is confronted with the reality that her seemingly perfect husband may be hiding something from her.

I don't want to spoil much about this, but it's very cat-and-mousey. It's evil with the cliffhangers. At one point, it briefly becomes a buddy comedy between a guy and another guy he kept in his basement. And there is one scene where people just sit in a car crying for two minutes. So, like, it has the range? I think of it as a guilty pleasure kinda show personally, but it's probably the closest to Beyond Evil of the shows on this list.

Mysterious Lotus Casebook

(historical cdrama)

Full disclosure: I have only recently finished this and it has somewhat taken over my brain so I can't claim to be in any way unbiased here. Li Lianhua is a lying liar who lies who may or may not be the fallen hero Li Xiangyi (he is). He wants to get by pretending to be a doctor and minding his own business, but unfortunately, the plot is out to get him. And so he, along with Fang Duobing, end up investigating various crimes as Li Lianhua tries to find the body of his former senior to lay him to rest before his own body gives out on him.

My favourite thing about this show is a) Li Lianhua, and b) the dynamic between the main trio. The levels of trolling and identity porn at any one time are through the roof. It's a comedy until it isn't.

Reset

(modern cdrama)

This is the incredibly rare type of show known as a decent *modern* cdrama. It's a timeloop show and is fairly short at 15 episodes. It's about two strangers who are trapped on a bus that keeps exploding and their attempts to uncover why and how it keeps happening. Being a modern cdrama, some of the police stuff can be fairly... heavy-handed, but I think the writers do what they can despite that, and it does use the different bus passengers to explore different societal issues, which is neat.

Overall, it's a bit of a mystery show, a bit of a character drama, and a teensy bit of romance which is for the most part nicely underplayed.

White Cat Legend

(historical cdrama)

This is waaaaaay more down the enjoyment end than quality but I'm having such a good time here. This is originally based off a manhua (I've only read pieces of it myself) but mainly just takes the characters and some story beats and does its own thing. I watched the donghua first and tonally that was an interesting experience in how it raced between funny cat shenanigans and reckoning with the nature of war crimes (though the donghua stuck much closer to the og source overall). But the live action so far is staying firmly silly (I'm midway through so it will shift at some point, I'm sure, just can't see the tonal whiplash being as bad as in the donghua).

Anyway! To explain what the show actually *is*, it follows a guy who has been cursed to become a cat (in the manhua/donghua this means he's like a walking furry but the live action has it more of a werecat/shapeshifter deal which is good because I could not handle that cg 24/7) and his attempts at running investigations as part of the local court. This is not helped by being the only competent guy in the entire place. Still, at least his underlings are *incredibly* entertaining in their failures. So, most of the show is investigating crimes against a backdrop of Li Bing (catto dude) trying to uncover the origins of the curse and why the old court and his father died. There's also a purple dude with whom he has History and an italian vampire. And vice president shangguan, who is one of those rare female characters you get in historical cdramas where the show is actually normal about her existence *without* just entirely brushing over the implications of her being in her position as a woman.

Move to Heaven

(modern kdrama)

This is a genuine rec where I'm not going to say you have to let quality pass or whatever because it's objectively good and doesn't have a high entry barrier. It may be good to watch an episode at a time depending on your mood though rather than trying to marathon it or anything.

This show basically follows the 'move to heaven' team, who are summoned to clear out the belongings of the deceased. Each deceased person has a story associated with them and as part of tidying the belongings away, there's an element of investigating to find out what their story was. It can be a tearjerker at times, but it can also be incredibly sweet. Also, it has a canon autistic character where it actually strikes a really good balance in terms of not infantilising him whilst still having it make sense why he wants help with certain things.

Nirvana in Fire

(historical cdrama)

This is my beloved. My favourite cdrama of all time. But I suspect it may not fit for you if Secret Forest doesn't. Still, I'll mention it and say to look up the diagrams to keep track of all the characters in the early episodes (...yeah, it's that type of show).

Anyway, this show is about a terminally ill man who takes on a secret identity or two as he plots to take revenge/bring justice (depending on who you ask) for the crimes of the past. This is part of the 'lying liar who lies' subgenre. It's much more serious and complicated overall than Mysterious Lotus Casebook despite the superficial similarities, but it does have its lighthearted moments.

Misc. shows that didn't make the list

I'll mention Signal (kdrama) and Kairos (kdrama) because they both have neat time travel mechanics, but with huge stipulations here. Signal is the objectively better one of these two and the male mc in Kairos is unbearable at times but at the same time Kairos has enough good points to keep me watching. The friend trio of female mc (they're just besties frfr) and the villain romance subplot especially. Signal had potential to be amazing, but for me, some of the time travel mechanics fell through and it was almost BBC Sherlockian at times with some of the 'profiling' deductions.

Signal's premise is that there's a walkie talkie that links the past and the present between a current day consultant profiler (with a distrust of the police despite now working for them) and a past police officer who is dead in the present day. It follows various cases between the past and the present that are interlocking with each other, with the overarching mysteries being present day profiler's backstory and past cop's death. I feel like this started out decently, went hit-and-miss, had a few episodes where it was absolutely amazing, and then lost steam somewhat, though the ending hit the main points.

Kairos' premise centres around a mobile phone. When a phone is disconnected, the number ends up being assigned to someone else. So, the two main characters, living a month apart in time, have the same number and thus can communicate with each other. The male mc in the future has recently found out that his wife and daughter have both died and the female mc's mother has gone missing. So they've both got a scenario they need the other person to help them with and as they change things, more new problems keep cropping up. It's a show where the premise is super interesting, but I personally found it a very frustrating watch, not least because of characters making decisions that were in-character, but incredibly stupid and *not* in the entertaining way.

Also, as I didn't include any BLs/GLs, I'll mention that I cannot in good conscience recommend Guardian (cdrama), but it's such fun trash and it has Shen Wei. It's a bit like shows like Torchwood and Buffy in that it's ostensibly modern era but there's magic (sorry, 'aliens') and a team that's meant to be keeping on top of it all led by Zhao Yunlan. He meets Shen Wei and then proceeds to *keep meeting him* at various crime scenes because Shen Wei sucks at this whole low-key deal.

On a similar note, Couple of Mirrors (cdrama) is a republican era GL. The two leads are well-written, but it's basically like two different shows mushed together (a soap and an assassin/cat-and-mouse chase). It has Yan Wei though! It's about a popular writer meeting a photographer (who is also an assassin) and them both discovering that the writer's husband really and truly sucks.

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 30: Two Sides of a Coin

Summary: You struggle with an inner turmoil.

Word Count: 1,864

Author's Note: I just want to take a moment to say again to all of you wonderful readers how much I love you.

Masterlist

You couldn't be sure exactly when it started.

You had entered into this whole thing with good and pure intentions. You really just meant to be friends. And that's what it was for a while. Loki was stubborn, and your friendship with him was hard-won. It was something you prided yourself on. Something you treasured. Loki needed a friend. Which was why you felt so guilty when you started wanting more.

It felt a like a betrayal. You were betraying Loki and your heart was betraying you. It had crept up on you when you weren't looking, which was a really shifty thing for a heart to do. Maybe you should have expected it, you did spend a lot of time with him. He was funny and charming and his looks certainly didn't help matters. He was a magic space alien god prince, a fact that you constantly tried to remind yourself of in an attempt to curb your ridiculous crush. It didn't really work. It might actually add to the allure, which should probably be concerning.

You glanced up from your wheel. He had come to visit you in the studio. He'd been doing that more often lately. You weren't about to complain. It was so nice to have someone to talk to. Or not talk to. It was relaxing sometimes to just sit in silence with another person. Today he sat in the chair next to the door, reading. Your eyes began to follow his legs as they stretched out in front of him before you swiftly forced them back to focus on the clay in your hands. You couldn't afford to get carried away. You needed to be more careful. You'd been pushing it a little recently. Okay, you'd been pushing it a lot. New Year's Eve you had an excuse, you had been drinking. The night of the blizzard, on the other hand... that was just shameless. You had no regrets, but it was still shameless, making him share the couch with you. He didn't seem to mind but it wasn't his first choice. Or his second. His first choice had been to walk home through a snowstorm. You tried not to think about what that might mean.

Then again, he had walked through the same snowstorm just to check on you. What did that mean?

You risked another glance at the god. He was still reading, unaware.

Obviously, it meant that he cared about you. A lot. That thought warmed you straight down to your toes. You wrapped it around yourself like a blanket. Late at night you might think about it and imagine how things could be if it was more than a friendship. Sometimes, you would dream about him. It was a something to fall asleep to, but you did your best to keep those thoughts in check during the light of day. Nothing good could come of it, especially if Loki is nearby. It makes it more likely you'll do something to slip up and he'll find out. He is probably going to find out eventually, he is a walking lie detector. You've managed so far by avoiding certain topics, wording answers carefully, pivoting subjects. One day, though, he would figure it out. That will be a harrowing day. Until then you would enjoy what you had. Who knows? Maybe you would get over it before then.

Shit. You let this train of thought distract you from your work. This was supposed to be a cup. It'll have to be a bowl now.

"I thought you were making mugs today?" You nearly jumped, and tried to put on a calm expression. "Yeah, I am. This one didn't cooperate. It wants to live its life as a bowl instead." You cut the now-bowl off the wheel and set it aside, then gathered a new lump of clay. "Is it frustrating when they have their own ideas?" "Occasionally." You tossed the clay onto the wheel and set it spinning, centering it. "You seem a bit distracted today." Loki noted. This was veering into dangerous territory. "Do I? Maybe it's the alien in my studio." He shook his head. "No, no, you've worked under those conditions before. It's something else." "You just never want to admit to being the cause of my problems." "You would never consider me a problem." You could hear his smirk. You avoided looking at it, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Why was it so hard today? Usually you could keep it under control while he was around. It was the legs, you decided. Stretched out in a long, slow slope to the floor. It took a lot of concentration to only look at them through your periphery. You didn't have the capacity to do that while keeping everything else in check. You should probably make sure you weren't drooling. Your mind drifted back to the night of the blizzard. His legs stretched all the way across the couch. They were pressed against you, closing you in against the back of the couch. You had never slept so well. It had been worth it.

He closed his book, alarm bells went off in your head. "Darling, truly, are you alright?" "What makes you ask?" "It appears you've made another bowl." You let the wheel drift to a stop. He was right. "Maybe... I should take a break."

You avoided his gaze as you stood and crossed to the mixing room to wash your hands. You could hear him stand and follow you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed he was leaning against the doorway, looking smug.

"I think you may be more than distracted." That smirk was coming through his voice again. "Oh?" "Yes, I think you are possibly on the verge of flustered." You groaned. "Loki, please." "Perhaps it is my presence after all." You hung your head to hide the heat rising to your face. "If I agree, will you get out of my hair?" "Oh, I could never do you such a disservice." You finally looked at him. He was grinning, his shoulder rested against the door jamb, one ankle crossing the other. You looked away before you could focus too much on the cut of his figure. "How chivalrous." You pushed past him and called to Ash as you walked out the back door.

Outside was easier. Loki walked beside you as you strolled around the field, but it felt less closed in. You took in the fresh air and tried to get your head on straight, walking one of the paths that he had so graciously cleared through the snow.

"Thor tells me they're close to finalizing the plans for the hall." Loki walked with his hands behind his back. He looked regal. "That's great." You tossed a stick for Ash. "I know he's put a lot of work into it." "Yes, it's been one of his greater efforts." Ash brought the stick to Loki. Loki took it without hesitation and threw it across the field.

You couldn't help but smile, seeing him so at ease. Just like that your mind was wandering again, picturing a domestic Loki. You imagined walking like this every day. Waking up every morning to see his face. It was nice to dwell on for a moment. Only a moment. You tried to push it down again. It was ridiculous, the idea of you and Loki. He was a god, and regardless whatever allowances he made for your friendship he still did not think very much of humans. Even if that weren't the case, you've seen the Asgardians. You've yet to meet a single one that wasn't absolutely gorgeous. You certainly didn't compare.

"What is on your mind?" His gaze felt intense but that was likely just your reaction. You realized you had been staring at him. You needed to answer. You couldn't lie. You couldn't tell the truth. You cleared your throat. "Are you up for lunch?"

****

You were a little out of sorts today. Loki couldn't discern why. He probably shouldn't poke and prod at you as he had been but he just couldn't resist seeing your rattled reaction. You seemed to take it well enough. You were a good sport.

After lunch he followed you back to your studio. Rather than return to your wheel, you entered the little room at the back of the studio instead. This room had plastic tubs and vats with lids, all filled with glazes, he knew. You had shelves of items that had been through only the first stage of firing. Bisqueware, you had called it. Apparently the pottery was especially fragile in this state, until it could be fired at a higher temperature. There was likely a metaphor there, Loki thought, but he couldn't be bothered to dig it out.

You carefully lifted each vessel from its place on the shelf and methodically dipped it into a glaze, or sometimes poured or dripped glaze over it. You seemed to be very particular in your process, which confounded him. It all looked like sludge as far as he could tell. In fact, there were several glazes that he could not distinguish from one another aside from the name written on the container. You, however, could somehow look at them and see the final product. Once a piece was coated to your satisfaction you set it aside on a board for easy transport later. Loki looked over the half-complete pottery. The un-fired glazes were all dull browns and greys and chalky pastels. He always marveled at the contrast between this and the vibrant, glossy colors they would wear once they came out of the kiln.

He leaned against the table and watched you work. The two of you made idle chat, you seemed a little more comfortable now. He had stopped teasing you, perhaps that was it.

During a stretch of silence he noticed you grew tense. Eventually you set down the pitcher you were working on. "I have to ask you something." He sat up slightly. "Yes?" "What are you waiting for?" He cocked a brow. "What do you mean?" "It's been ages." You glanced to the side and wrung your hands. "Weeks and weeks since I tricked you into that meeting with Brynjar. You haven't gotten me back yet." A truly wicked grin spread across his face. "Oh, haven't I?" You looked uncertain now. "No. You haven't. Right?" He stood up straight and took a step toward you. "Have you ever considered the torture of anticipation?" "Loki..." He could hear a nervous edge in your voice. He stepped closer again. "Have you not spent all this time wondering?" He began circling around behind you, you kept your eyes forward, frozen in place. "Glancing over shoulder? Second-guessing your steps?" You were fidgeting but still didn't turn to him. "How long will it go on, I wonder?" He stepped closer behind you. "How long can you stand it, little bird? Knowing you're being stalked," he leaned in close to your ear and spoke low, "but never knowing when the beast will pounce?"

He saw you shiver then, and assumed he understood why.

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[yuri-is-online]

Just finished Sinostra's chapter myself.... I gotta say though, was a little underwhelming compared to other chapters.... Honestly the entire thing felt like a one-man show by Ritsu + some sexual tension between Taiga and Romeo whenever they interact lol. MC has never felt more like a spectator than she did in this chapter, I was waiting for her to do absolutely *anything* but she really was just... there lmao. Not even hand-holding this time!

Even the Like Dove showed up AFTER mc left, when it was just Taiga and Romeo in the room, and then later again when Romeo barges into Taiga's room - this time mc was there but, just barely lol, the whole focus was on Taiga and Romeo's almost shoot-off, and Taiga's line saying "You really could shoot through my heart"?? And the fact that he sensed Romeo approaching before he even saw him, and so far is the only person who he clearly remembers and freely gives compliments to lol, Lulu is a cute nickname tho.

Regardless, Taiga's strange response to the Like Dove could possibly mean Kaito's explanation about it might not be true after all, since anomalies are still a mystery, wouldn't be strange for false rumors to make the rounds.

And I while I don't hate Ritsu - I appreciate he's a hard worker and tries to make the best of any situation he's put in - I dislike how he really just one-sidedly handled everything in this chapter and only ever explains after they're done lol. The case didn't feel like an investigation at all, Ritsu just pulls some numbers out of the air and acts on them (where is he getting all that data??) and in the end they won against it because it had to prevent a paradox from happening...? lmao idk overall just felt so underwhelming.

Also we never find out what the deal was about the girl in the tower?? Why even mention that detail if they're not gonna do anything with it... An anomaly that was born from the negative emotions gathering in a casino replaces people's memories with a girl in a tower.... My guess is it wanted enough people to "remember" her so she could come into existence? Like Takeru's ghost. I wonder what for though... Will they revisit this or not.....

You could pluck out MC from this chapter and absolutely nothing would change imo because Ritsu was doing everything anyways, only name-dropped mc when mentioning it was an investigation, that's it. While I don't necessarily need her to be the star or a hero, having 0 influence on the chapter is not great writing imo.

Kaito and his silly antics were the highlight for me. And I found it hilarious how him being stripped down and locked up in Romeo's "private office" feels like the setting of any self-indulgent "dark romance" fiction between a rich CEO and helpless debtor who has to cater to the captor's whims lol.

Finally Hotarubi is next, I've been curious about it since I got sorted into it, and want to see more of Haku. I agree he's sus, his dialogue in the prologue if you choose him only highlights the fact. But something about him really compels me

Sorry for the long ask, I have a thousand thoughts twirling around in my mind about TD, it should probably cool down between the entire month that's left before next story update.... but also there's new games coming out next month so hopefully I don't forget about TD completely either lol....

There is no shame in long asks. I'm always impressed at the amount of thoughts my dear anons manage to fit inside the ask box ♡

I also felt like the content was a bit lacking to the point I went and checked Jabberwock's chapter count and was surprised to find it's actually a tad shorter than Sinostra's. I think the main reason it felt so short to me was because I wasn't locked out of progressing this time around, but the case progression also felt much much quicker. If I'm sitting back and evaluating it as a writer, I think that's probably because of the setting being confined to the school and dorm. Sure, a lot happens, but you don't actually go anywhere, unlike in the previous three books.

Our MC has a very laid-back personality, which I don't mind. BUT the game really should allow for the chance for her to work things out on her own, even if she's too afraid of the other characters to verbalize it and keeps them to herself. There are several times in the book when she tries to point out inconsistencies in Ritsu's logic or other evidence she notices, but she's talked over pretty much every single time. It's what made me really hate Ritsu since you did not see that with Ren, Haru, or Towa, but i get that it's sort of tricky when writing more domineering characters to balance not making them overshadow the more laid back ones but still keeping them true to their personalities. I don't think Ritsu would have paid attention to Kaito if MC wasn't there, nor do I think Taiga would have paid attention to Ritsu, but that's just me speculating because the story doesn't clearly communicate it. This book was poorly written, a lot of the problems people have with MC could be fixed with a few additional lines where she's shown wanting to do something but reminding herself she has to play nice with the ghouls otherwise they won't break her curse. Her personality makes sense to me, but her writing does not.

Now. I disagree about the no real moments this chapter but ah. Well. You see. There is something deeply wrong with me so I completely get if this did nothing but disturb you but when Taiga has MC strapped to the torture chair 👉👈

Look I know potentially getting a hicky from a guy that strapped you to a torture chair and just shot you (for the second time) isn't everyone's thing but it is mine I was so well fed this chapter from that alone ( ; ω ; ) AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON HOW HE CALLS HER KITTEN AND EATS THE FUCKING LIKE DOVE??? RAW??? ROMEO ROMEO WHY FOR ART THOU INTERRUPING ROMEO I WANTED TO SEE WHAT HE WAS GONNA DO- forgive me anon I'm afraid I'm most unwell.

Speaking of the Like dove and the memories of the tower. The Tower thing reminds me of rapunzel, especially because she's out alone in the woods, but it feels super out of left field, no? If the anomaly is born from the Casino, which Taiga states "is him," then I wonder if the girl in the tower is representative of something he's forgotten? The chapter places an emphasis on how anomalies can affect memory, so it's not too big of an assumption to make that something must have happened to Taiga to make his memory this bad. As for the like dove... Romeo seems very surprised to see it, almost suggesting he never has before, which can you imagine how funny it would be if it showed up for him and Taiga. They've been friends and business partners for at least two years, I refuse to believe the dove would only just show up now. The image of him just never seeing it because everyone is too polite/afraid of him to point it out is too funny. The dove shows up twice this chapter, both times it sort of read to me like it had been there for a bit before it was noticed and in both cases Taiga reacts to it negatively. Given how paranoid he seems to be, I think it's probably because the idea of him caring/having someone care about him scares him due to the unpredictability of it and the potential for betrayal. He seems to think people only want to use him, so that's probably part of it too. I'm constantly doing way too many lines of copium, so to me the dove seemed triggered by Taiga's interactions with MC but I also see where you're coming with Romeo. Their friendship is much less adversarial than it was implied to be in their little blurbs, and I quite like that a lot. You know even if Taiga seems to think Romeo is always taking away his fun. And what's up with his constant want to eat anomalies, is Romeo not feeding him enough?

Slight correction, Taiga does seem to remember who Haru is, Harry and Lulu are both derivative of their names, so maybe he can only remember people in his year clearly? Or does it also include second years? He sounds very surprised at the concept of a "first year ghoul" in his house so maybe his memories are cutting off everything other than the previous two years...

I also have a bunch more thoughts but I'll cut myself off here ×-× gotta let some of them simmer before I make too much of a fool of myself (I already have)