#also i hate route mapping

[thelongestway]

Fun fact #1: do you have any idea how annoying counter-terrorism literature is?

Fun fact #2: the number of brennans on this ship was largely decided by dice roll. Which means that the "oops, (nearly) all brennans" thing was preordained from above.

Author's note: I have also edited some tone things that were bothering me in chapters 6 and 7. I do have the older version saved separately, but I think the tone changes stay.

And so, without further ado...

Chapter 8

The first thing Captain Reed said after ke and kes senior staff all piled into this Friend's cramped work room was, "I find it difficult to believe telling a single ship to go shovel its own dung is enough to trigger a full-scale manhunt. If this is about your safety, Atmir Ran…"

"With regards to this Friend, they likely believe that it had lied about its identity or stowed away on one of the six vessels it could have used, including yours, and are continuing to run a routine search. Its safety is not the issue."

Iceblink snorted, and Captain Reed raised a hand to shush her.

"So. What is our issue, then, according to this Friend?" ke said coldly.

"Is Navigator Brisote here?"

The heavy-set, bearded brennan who had been leaning against an empty corner nodded sharply.

"This Friend remembers from navigation logs that the way you escaped the detection of Dandelion's speed by corporate parties was by going in a zigzag via transit rings all owned by different corporations--a route too implausible to seriously consider, and via parties that have no reason to ask each other about the exact time of your departure from the previous point. Is this Friend's assessment correct?"

Brisote exchanged looks with Reed and said, "And with plausible alternate exit routes for each jump. We give false routes where required and switch wormhole networks, too. If that false trail isn't a rot to set…"

"This measure will no longer suffice."

"Again, I fail to see how one less than courteous exchange…"

"This is not about the manhunt, Captain Reed." This was going to be the trickiest part of the argument. "Your problem is that they are bored, and you drew their attention while they have time and resources to burn."

"Cut to the chase already," Iceblink said, perching on the terminal table. "What exactly in the false trail isn't supposed to work?"

"Briefly put, your trail will stop any agencies recognizing one another within a cooperation framework--which, in the Rim, is most of them, and which is far too fragmented to be of any use. But BreharWallHan is conducting a counter-terrorism operation. So the assorted experts are running their searches within a mutual recognition framework."

The crew exchanged looks which told the Friend they were completely lost. Then Dandelion's voice sounded out of a speaker.

"Effectively, this means BreharWallHan doesn't have to ask for information and then wait until someone decides whether they can get it or not. It can order other corporate entities to provide it, and they will have to do so quickly."

This Friend wondered briefly if Dandelion had sneaked past many borders back in her day. It nodded to the speaker.

"Correct. And you were the only ship to flip them off about a routine, but high-priority, inquiry. They will still be looking for this Friend, of course, but that's a much broader pool of requests to wait on, and they haven't yet collected the bulk of their traces. They're also still waiting on Preservation Station giving them the run-around, so they are extra pissed.

"And you? You're right here. You went through a few wormholes whose authorities BWH will have easy access to, because they're local and probably know their counterparts, one palm greasing another. And BWH has nothing but the time and inspiration to mess with you. Which they are doing, if the barrage of clearly pointless requests is anything to go by."

Recognition dawned on the crew's faces. The logistics officer, Phoibe, muttered some sort of incomprehensible swear.

"So the moment enough traces come back, they see the inconsistencies. How many sources of information do they have to draw on?" ke inquired.

This Friend bared its teeth. "Plenty. One is the PFTCS, which will allow them to track wormhole use fees, unless you have been using multiple financial proxies in the Rim itself." Phoibe shook kes head. "Another is the PNSR, which is the passenger name and security re…"

"Enough. Out of the quicksand, into the bog, up to our knees and drowning." Captain Reed said. "The initial conversation with the BreharWallHan ship was yesterday early in the morning. It has been approximately a cycle by Preservation time. What do we have to work with?"

"Even the request will be heavily encrypted, proprietary data. It will need to be carried by a transport, which means BWH probably paid one of the departing vessels for it. If you give this Friend data on those ships, it can try to narrow it down. Then, the nearest jump out of Preservation territory is five days, and this Friend sees no reason they'd take a longer route."

"Sunwinds sharp! We can easily outpace that," Brisote said, relieved.

"And what then?" Iceblink glared at kem. "How long from the wormhole until the transport is in feed range and can pass on the packet?"

"Three hours until the transit station in the worst case scenario, and you would need to either board them or hack them, and remove the request," the Friend said. "This would be a closely cut operation."

Iceblink nodded darkly and patted the dark terminal. "Close, but doable."

"But what's stopping them from just re-sending the request with the next ship?" Phoibe asked.

"This Friend proposes to make certain they forget about the request. If you will permit it, it will show itself in the transit ring and lead them on a merry chase. At this point, BWH will have other things to do, and any requests assumed lost…" It gave it a moment of thought. "This Friend shall endeavor to make sure there is a good explanation for that. Bring down a proprietary feed or two on the way out."

"This is all well and good," Captain Reed said. "But it would mean trusting you again."

This Friend felt a pang of shame and regret. It dithered before replying.

And that meant Iceblink answered for it.

"Actually, captain, we don't have to rely on just the Friend's good graces. Dandelion, didn't you say that PresAlli drone hacker you worked with was freelance? Can we hire it to run backup?"

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

"wow how pathetic it is of a man who isn't much of a fighter to be afraid and want to live in the middle of aggressors invading his lands"

WHY WON'T U JUST GIVE UP AND STOP DEFENDING YOUR LANDS THAT WE'RE INVADING AND ATTACKING ON TOP OF YOU LITERALLY DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO US

[trickarrows-bishop]

nonbinaries and their pet rocks

HELL YEAHHHH

[actual-corpse]

How DARE you insult me by not trusting the Process?

[but-the-library-of-alexandria]

related to a post I can't currently reblog bc moots are listening to tma for the first time and it has major spoilers lol, but on the subject of the misconception of jon being the pragmatist and martin being the romantic when it's actually pretty explicitly the other way around

I think for the most part this stems from a combination of a) associating optimism with romanticism and pessimism with pragmatism when in reality positivity is way more pragmatic than wallowing in despair, b) falling into the trap of believing the outer personas they both portray in earlier seasons, and possibly c) simply believing that a poet and an academic must be that way around lol

But also (and this is kind of silly and a stretch lol) I wonder if it's a slight cultural difference in what Tea represents in American vs British culture

If you're a brit and you've ever been in a rough situation with a group of people, you will discover who the pragmatist of the group is, and that's the person making the tea. any time there's bad news, the most down to earth person in the room is making tea while everyone grieves

and I'm not saying Americans don't consider tea to be a good thing to give to upset people, but I do think there's a certain association with tea (as opposed to coffee) as a bit more of a... hippy drink? a kind of herbal concoction given to you by a woman in a boho kimono who believes in manifestation, or your grandma who doesn't like technology - its kind of a romantic drink in a way, made of petals and leaves and supposed to have a calming effect

whereas in the UK it's not an exaggeration to say it's a staple - it's ubiquitous and kind of considered a necessity rather than a treat. it's a part of the usual daily routine. the person making the tea is the person keeping everyone fed and keeping up the normal flow of daily tasks. the fact that people will need tea, and that that's a need you can take care of, is sort of similar to being the friend who always has water and painkillers in your bag for when other people need it. it's a way of being there for people and coping in a crisis that's deeply practical and (in some people's cases, myself included lol) kind of a way of coping that deliberately AVOIDS the drama and philosophy of it all. despite being the guy who always wants everyone to talk about their feelings, it is also pointed out several times that one of martin's flaws in the early seasons is that he just tries to get on with things and hopes everything will get back to normal again, instead of rightfully raging against the institute machine (and how is that expressed? by people - and himself - complaining that all he does is make tea!)

honestly there's parallels to be drawn between him and basira, who we all accept is knuckling down and leaning into pragmatism while the others (including jon) are wallowing in the whys and what-ifs of it all. in fact the relationship between daisy and basira is a good comparison - daisy is often arguing that she's the pragmatist and basira is the bleeding heart bc she's more willing to kill, but daisy's killing is more and more clearly a matter of philosophy and beliefs while basira's gentler approach makes more practical sense

This turned into a way longer ramble than I thought it would lol but anyway something something orestes and pylades rotten work

[smallestapplin]

I too have been enamored with your Autobot Harem and I would like to see more please ...but I'm also picturing how fucking funny it would be if the Decepticons somehow heard about this new human friend and decide to kidnap them for Schemes(TM) So they send one of the minicons to scout things out, to see what this human is about, only to be bombarded with footage of Prowl, of all bots, holding the Autobot Darling in a mating press and fucking them stupid while they cry out his name

The 'Cons are baffled, frightened, and kinda grossed out and promptly nope the fuck outta there and spend the next few days trying to delete it from their memories

And they grow even more distressed when they realize just how *often* the Autobots have their way with you, including Optimus goddamn Prime, who seems to be the most addicted out of all of them, and everytime they try to sneak around there is at least one bot doing something lewd

The Autobots, meanwhile, haven't enjoyed this much peace and quiet for this long in a looooooong while, and they know exactly how to best enjoy it

Cackling at the same brain, but I adore the takes here >:) if you or anyone have anymore ideas don't be afraid to tell me

But I'd love to expand on this

🔞Warning : Autobot harem, Spitroasting, GN!Reader, decepticon pov so everything is referred to in Cybertronian words, non-consensual recording, non-consensual voyeurism🔞

Links to one here and chatting here

-

-

When the autobots don't make any moves it's not unusual, after all it's only when the decepticons attack will they be seen, so why not a stealth mission to try and get some intel and break their silly camaraderie?

Oh it was a genuis plan! Get dirt on them, spread it to their friends, and watch them kill each other instead, getting them out of the way once and for all.

Laserbeak was sent first to map up routes, and see who guards at certain times.

It was normal, it was routine even.

Until laserbeak catches sight (and recording) of you, a little human, slotted between Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

Sunstreaker rutting into your tight valve, transfluid leaking from where you two connect. His hips wetly slapping into yours. Your stomach bulging from the large spike rearranging your insides.

And you struggling to take Sideswipe's spike in your intake while your digits toy with his valve. Drool and fluid leaking down your chin, tears sliding down your face as you struggle to breathe.

"Takin' our spikes like a champ, sweetspark."

"Such a greedy valve! Keeps suckin' me in like you want me to overload early-"

Soundwave is fast in disconnecting the line, shutting the video off and telling Laserbeak to get back to base prompto.

But that leaves the decepticons in silence.

What had they just seen? Cybertronians can interface with fleshies? What nonsense! That can't be right.

It starts off as disgust, but then they start talking and realizing this has been going on for ages.

"Those twins hate humans out of every autobot, so how did a fleshy manage?" Starscream speaks, venom dripping in his voice.

"Wait...wait remember when we attacked their base to get that energy switch, and we came across them, and Prowl nearly offlined Thundercracker?"

The room falls silent again.

Every instance comes flooding back to them, ones they would have never thought twice about are all starting to make sense. The autobots always became a bit more aggressive and protective when it came to defending you.

Even Optimus Prime himself nearly offlined Rumble for getting close to you, before picking you up and placing you with Bumblebee to get to safety.

"So...are all of them with one human or just those two?" Skywarp didn't even want to know, but of course if there is some weird romance thing going on, they could probably use that to their advantage.

Megatron sighs, looking to Soundwave "Tell Laserbeak to go back and pick up more evidence, as much as I hate to say that."

The larger bot sneers, loathing the idea of seeing more.

But Soundwave and Laserbeak do as told.

The minicon avoids the area he first saw you, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker, making an effort to thoroughly explore the other areas, making note that Prowl and Jazz seemingly take guard duty at night.

By the next day you and those twins seem to have went back inside the base, where Laserbeak couldn't reach.

"Sir, we might need to send someone to sneak inside their base."

Megatron glances at Soundwave, who doesn't look away from the screen. They both know getting inside that base will be dangerous, especially with how protective those bots are when you're involved.

"Let's hold off on that, since they seem to enjoy fragging outdoors, I'm certain we will get something else."

Soundwave nods, and continues watching as nothing interesting shows up on camera.

Starscream groans, rolling his optics not believing this is what they are up to anymore, just waiting to see some human all bare taking a spike much too big for them.

How patheic!

He could easily break your valve in, much better than those autobots!.....wait...NO! He shakes his helm, getting rid of any thoughts of you he's having.

Grumbling himself about your stupid attractiveness, you're just some stupid fleshy that's probably so soft compared to him, and no doubt your valve would struggle to take him.

But he keeps up a disgusted act, not wanting anyone to know what he's thinking.

However Thundercracker is silent, optics not leaving the screen, watching whatever Laserbeak catches on camera.

His expression looks bored, but he's freaking out inside.

He can't believe a human could actually handle interfacing with a Cybertronian, and you took two like a champ! You look so cute, pretty valve stretched so wide just to take Sunstreaker.

Greedy little thing.

He wants you, he wants to know what it's like, wants to leave here and live somewhere peacefully with you in some far off woods.

He's only here out of fear.

But he can't believe he's letting himself fall for a human he's barely met, but he can't stop his thoughts from trailing off to you, picturing you crying out begging him for more.

He wonders how your valve tastes, and if you'd like he bury his glossa in your heat.

Thundercracker is broken from his thoughts by Starscream screeching.

"Have they no shame!?"

Several optics look back at the screen, only to see you with Hot Rod.

The flashy bot clearly rushing off with you, giggling as you two go through the trees to get a peaceful spot away from base.

Faintly through Laserbeak's mic they can hear you.

"Oh, you don't know how much I missed you, little light!"

You giggle, finding all his kisses to be tickling you.

"I missed you too, Roddy. I hope your missions haven't been to exhausting." You kiss him in turn, smiling when he lets out a dopey chuckle.

"Nothing I can't manage, I just wanted to get back to you safe and sound."

"Something tells me that's not the only reason." You tease him, your poor lover gives you a pleading expression.

"I got all my work done? Missions were a success since the decepticons have been quiet, oh! And I got my reports done!"

He's shaking, nearly vibrating in place waiting for something.

But you let out a dramatic sigh, playfully shaking your head.

"I suppose since you've been such a good boy then."

You kick your pants off, tossing them to the side, before plopping yourself down on his servo, spreading your legs wide for him.

"A good boy deserves a reward, right?"

Hot Rod drools, muttering 'thank you's over and over again as he buries his glossa into your greedy hole.

Moaning with you, unable to help himself when you taste so good!

The decepticons all look at each other, then to Megatron, awaiting his orders but even he is baffled.

Just how many bots do you have after you? How many do you already have under your thumb? In the fights where he has gotten close to you, you reek of Optimus far too strongly.

So you're with him too.

Do you have the entire autobot base at your beck and call?

"Megatron, what are your orders."

Soundwave's voice shakes him if his thoughts.

"If we can get ahold of that human, we might have our answers, however I'm not even sure we can with how frag addicted those filthy autobots are."

"Seems the human is never alone either, which would make that even harder."

Just what have they gotten themselves into?

[phoenixyfriend]

People are being so high and mighty about the new NYC subway map

"You're just catching up to the rest of the world" That's not a map. That's a chart with the barest bits of context.

.....okay. This is the old map, which we've been using for almost fifty years. This is the new map. As you can see, the old map was cluttered with words, and the new map is cluttered with lines, and based on the London Tube, as most underground maps are these days.

And I hate it.

To be clear to everyone who is not themselves a New Yorker and hasn't been paying attention because it doesn't matter to their lives at all:

The London-inspired map style is ONLY ever more readable and navigable if you're already familiar with what's above ground; it's not really a map style, so much as a chart style with a very small number of context clues, like There's A River Kind Of Around Here.

If you have directions on hand to tell you EXACTLY which app to get of at, fine, but if you want to look at a map and go 'oh, those two have a much bigger gap between them than I thought, let's not get off early' then the NYC classic is better.

If you're a tourist, also better! You can look at the map on the wall and get an idea of where you are in relation to the rest of the city, at the VERY least in Manhattan.

NYC's previous map was basically like if you took a regular map and overlaid it with the tracks. Not to scale, sure, but easy to see the locations as they relate to both each other and to above-ground locations. If I'm showing around some out-of-towners and want to plot routes, it's much easier to toggle between the old map and a map with locations on it of such things already roughly correspond.

The high contrast colors and added details ALSO HELP. You can see the best entry points for Central Park, the intersections with other transit lines (yes, the LIRR and AmTrak are crucial here, along with things like the Tramway, ferry ports other than Staten Island) that can help you plan for transfers between systems, and major reference points or neighborhoods (The Met, various labeled parks that are on the old map but not the new one, important street names, physical bridges, major neighborhoods), and just generally everything you need in an actual MAP.

This new style makes things uglier, less navigable, and more cluttered due to the entwined lines. I'd liken it to a random animal's circulatory system laid out flat so you have no idea what the relation of two points is unless you already know what animal it is and what it's shaped like. If you plan to ONLY use the subway and know exactly where you're going, great!

The new map's primary strength is that it's good for people who are low-vision and already know what each station correlates to above.

For anyone who was looking for "a map of the city that focuses on outlining where the subway goes" rather than "a subway chart devoid of most context," then the classic map is better.

Trust me, I found the new style, the Tube Classic, to be ugly and difficult and CONFUSING when I was in Japan and London. It showed me a very neat and orderly chart that had little-if-anything to do with what little I knew about the city aboveground.

Also it's one of those things that's kind of woven into the city's identity. It's like your mom making you get a new haircut so you 'fit in at school' by making you identical to everyone else.

[avocado-writing]

roadtrip au

I can’t stop thinking about a modern au roadtrip and what everyone would be doing in the minivan you definitely have. I’m sorry if this has been done before but -

Tav

You’re driving. Would you trust any of those other fools to? No. Absolutely not letting them behind the wheel

Responsible for keeping the schedule. You have to be at your destination on time and you’ll be damned if they’ll stop you.

The only person you sometimes let take over if you need a break is —

Gale

Let’s be real. Only other one of you with a driving license.

he sits shotgun mostly because he reads the map for you if your GPS goes out.

tries to work out shortcuts. Fails miserably. If you follow his “time saving” directions you’ll get so fucking lost. Only trust him to read out your planned route and nothing else.

Astarion

Fucking hates road trips. Catch him with a sleep mask on and headphones in. Will absolutely sleep through the whole entire thing.

Let’s be clear. He doesn’t NEED to sleep. But he does because he can’t fucking stand car talk. Would rather listen to podcasts and be in his own world. especially because of —

Lae’zel

Hates road trips too but because she’s a terrible backseat driver. Doesn’t understand why you can’t speed all the way there to make the trip more efficient, or take out other cars.

rolls down the window to shout at people on the road who she thinks are driving poorly.

Gets in fights with people at the gas station when you stop to refuel the car. And also in the car with —

Shadowheart

Always there to bicker with Lae’zel. When she’s not doing that she’s brooding out of the window.

Mutters that this must be some sort of trial from her god, because she is suffering being stuck in this minivan.

does fall asleep on the shoulder of the person sitting next to her though. (Often Lae’zel. Weird they always sit next to each other when they can’t seem to get along… but Lae’zel does let her sleep, claiming that the silence is better.)

Karlach

One of the few people who enjoys the ride!

likes to call out farm animals she sees as you drive by. “Sheep!” or “cows!”

LOVES a game of yellow car. Especially the version where you punch each other. Therefore she doesn’t get many volunteers to sit next to her.

Wyll

He controls the music and the aux cord. People all approve of his music tastes. Makes the best playlists, change my mind

he’s often singing along too, he has a nice voice, catch him and Tav belting out “unwritten” at the top of their lungs as you speed down the motorway.

helps settle fights in the van. Massive peacekeeper. If there was no Wyll there would be no roadtrip.

Halsin

Hates being in a car but sucks it up and does it anyway.

this man is the snack master. He brings all the snacks. And good stuff too, like a lot of nice sweets and crisps…

… because if people are eating they aren’t arguing.

likes to be next to a window so he can see nature go by, gets into conversations with Karlach about the animals and trees around 💕

[midnightlizard]

Hi I love your work so I thought that i would request something. A meredith one where after dereks death she doesn’t want a relationship so she pushes anyone that is interested in her away. But the reader (male or g!n I don’t mind) comes as an new neurosurgeon and makes her fall in love with them. But Meredith being Meredith feels bad about moving on from Derek and tries to distance herself. So the reader tries to explain and to show her that she deserves being loved and that Derek would want her to move on. You can add some soft smut at the end if you want, like reader is trying to make her feel loved and wanted. (btw sorry for the long request)

You deserve a second chance

Meredith Grey x gn!reader

A/N: hello and thank you! it turned into a kinda one-sided-hate to lovers cause I think it's fitting, also I had to separate this into two parts because it came out too long (part 2 now out!)

Warnings: slight angst, cursing

Word count: 3.1k

-

-

Everything felt new.

The halls were the same, the rooms were the same, Meredith could map the entire building with her eyes closed and could tell you the quickest route to any elevator or the best on-call room for every floor. That's how much she knew the hospital.

But as she walked through the corridors she couldn't help but feel like a stranger. Every patient she was treating was gone and there were some new faces among the nurses too. Despite her indisputable abilities Meredith felt like an intern all over again.

That's what a year away from everyone can do to you.

But she felt the need to come back, she had to; so there she was, looking at the board to check her next surgery.

"I thought Amelia had a day off" she whispered with furrowed eyebrows, remembering how the Shepherd offered to babysit her kids while she was at work, so the aneurysm scheduled for noon was confusing.

But as she moved her eyes to the doctor's name in charge of the surgery, she felt an unhealthy amount of bile forming up in her throat.

- - - -

"You hired a new neurosurgeon?" it didn't take long for Meredith to find Webber, and talk to him in a way that was too loud to be professional, and too angry to be directed at her boss.

"Meredith" he couldn't say he was surprised, in fact he was almost expecting the outburst. So he asked the resident he was talking to leave them alone before turning to look at her "you know we had to" he already knew what to say

"there's already Amelia. There's no need to hire someone else" her eyes were frantic as they searched Webber's, and maybe somewhere in her head she knew she was being unreasonable, but all she could see right now was her husband being replaced without a care.

"Derek wasn't working here anymore Meredith" Richard kept his tone even, while subtly trying to get everyone's attention off them "you know how many people come to this hospital every day, Amelia couldn't do it all on her own" Amelia, because using the brunette's last name wouldn't be a great move right now. "and (y/l/n) is a very capable surgeon so I want them working here."

The blonde loudly sighed and squeezed her eyes shut "I have a surgery" that technically wasn't a lie, but her main goal was to get out of there

The man watched her leave with a sigh. Hopefully with time Meredith would see he made the right choice.

- - - -

For the next few weeks Meredith avoided you, she saw you talking to your patients, she saw your face, so she knew who to avoid. This was a big hospital, it shouldn't be hard to do it for as long as she needed to, even if that was forever.

But she was never that lucky.

She opened the door to the x-ray room where Amelia told her she would be, her head lowered to look at her patient's scans. "Amelia can you take a look at this, I think-" she stopped mid sentence when she found you looking at her, arm propped up on the armrest of the chair with a curious look on your face. An empty chair next to you.

This was the first time she looked into your eyes.

"you're not Amelia"

"clearly not" you chuckled. The first time she heard your voice. "she just got called into surgery, but you can ask me if you need a consult" you offered, peering at the scans in her hands.

"no it's okay" she shook her head after a second "I'll just wait for her"

"oh I don't think you want to" you interjected, getting up from your seat "she should be in there for hours and if it's urgent you better ask me" you gently took the scans from her and started esaminating them, earning a stern look from the surgeon. "what do you think it is?"

Even though you just asked it to know her opinion, Meredith took that as a sign you didn't know how to do your job. Just what she needed to hate you more.

"an aneurysm." she answered anyway "They brought her to me because she was complaining about stomach pain, but as I was talking to her I noticed-"

"It's a tumor" you stated with confidence, not raising your head from the papers.

"what? no I think-" she started, but you cut her off once more.

"is her vision blurry?"

Meredith rolled her eyes "dark spots around the corner of her eyes"

You quietly nodded to yourself "it's almost touching the optic nerve. We need to operate soon if we don't want her going blind" you gave her the scans back, and she instantly took them "I'll book an O.R. for tomorrow"

She bit her tongue to prevent herself from mentioning that 'we' you used. Instead she nodded, murmured a 'thanks' and got out of the room.

- - - -

"this is an aneurysm, right?"

Amelia's eyes fell on the scans Meredith showed her as soon as she got out of surgery, gloves still on. She gave the woman a confused look, but didn't say anything, and freed her hands to flip through the papers.

"I tried asking (Y/l/n) but they seemed uncertain so I want a second op-"

"nop, it's a tumor" she quickly answered, with the same confidence you showed a couple of hours before "and it's close to the optic nerve, have you booked an O.R. yet?"

Meredith sighed and started following Amelia through the halls "yes, (Y/l/n) did"

"good, then you're all set. Why did you ask me?"

she wasn't expecting Meredith to tell her the truth. She often bragged about her ability to keep her feelings hidden, but she asked anyway.

And she did it this time too "I told you they seemed uncertain"

"you don't like them" Amelia stopped in front of the other woman, almost making her bump into her. She saw the defensive stance the blonde took, and continued talking. "you don't like that they're a neurosurgeon like Derek was, and you don't like that they work here, like Derek did"

Meredith shook her head, not liking the look on the brunette's face. She tried to deny her, but couldn't find an excuse believable enough for Amelia to drop it. So she kept silent.

"trust me, I know because I did too" her voice turned somewhat softer "it took me weeks not to cuss them out every chance I got." she stopped for a second, her old feelings resurfacing "they're not trying to replace Derek, okay? they're just doing their job, and we should let them" she ended with a shrug and raised the scans in her hands "and this is a tumor, so trust them in the O.R."

- - - -

The next day, Meredith reluctantly scrubbed in with you, and let you work on her patient's brain while she worked on her liver. It was a standard procedure on her part, so she had no problem in keeping an eye on you from time to time.

Your hands were steady and your eyes were focused, never wavering from your work, your voice soft as you talked to your resident, explaining your steps to him and asking him questions.

Your voice held the same softness whenever you tried to make small talk with Meredith, and every time, she shot you down. She didn't sound particularly rude - Amelia's words echoing in her head - but she wasn't craving to chitchat.

- - - -

It was only when the patient was discharged that she willingly started a conversation with you.

"thanks for the help, by the way" was all she said, so gently you thought she was talking to someone else. But you shook your head and smiled at her regardless, claiming it was a pleasure. She offered you a polite smile, and went off to do her own thing.

From that moment on you started talking more and more each day, and it wasn't always job-related.

You started hanging out with Amelia so she often found you sitting on her couch when she got back from work; you told her you would stop if it made her uncomfortable, but she assured you it was fine. Besides, it was Amelia's house too, so she had every right to invite you any time she wanted.

That's what she told herself, the only reason why she didn't mind you being at her place.

Actually, that was not the only reason.

"Bailey loves when you play with him, and it actually gives me a break from keeping an eye on all three of them, so really, don't worry about it" in the time you spent at her place, you also met her kids, and they seemed to love you. Well, of course kids like someone who plays with them and hands them candies while their mother isn't looking.

But that's it. Meredith didn't have any ulterior motives for wanting you near her all the time.

You, on the other end, wanted to be near Meredith without hiding behind the excuse of hanging out with Amelia or helping her babysit.

When you first came to grey sloan memorial you had already heard about Meredith and her mother. Sure, you learned from experience to never trust rumors and to only believe what happened right in front of your eyes.

But you saw Meredith Grey operate, you saw how her brain worked while in the O.R., and how it worked outside of it. And you wanted to see more of it.

You couldn't say you were the only one, or at least you thought- hoped so.

Meredith kept on giving you mixed signals, and after what Amelia told you about Derek and what happened to him you decided to go at her pace, and only ask her out directly once you were sure she liked you back and was ready.

But that didn't stop you from testing the waters.

- - - -

"so you think we should go for the heart first?" he raised his eyebrows

"I mean, yea but you'd have to be quick, I can't waste time" you could feel Riggs' eyes on you as you observed the charts

"quantify quick"

You shrugged "I don't know, an hour? We can't leave him open for too long"

"no that's not enough time, if I rush things I could kill him" And with a shake of the man's head, you were back to square one.

Impossible cases were fun only once you found a way to make them possible. But after two hours in the same room with Riggs, you were still in that gray area between the two.

"what are you two grumbling about?" a familiar voice made itself known, making the both of you turn to the door.

"brainstorming" Riggs replied simply "you wanted something?"

"hi Mer" you interjected, your smile growing in size when she reciprocated.

"Maggie wanted you to take a look at these, they're not urgent but page her as soon as you do" she handed him three charts, probably Maggie's patients' "everyone seems to be delegating today" she added with a sigh.

While the cardiac surgeon started flipping through the pages, you took in Meredith's hooded eyes and loose ponytail "you okay?"

She was silent for a second, before shrugging "Zola didn't want to go to sleep last night and didn't want to go to school today, Ellis cried all night and Bailey gave me two of her patients-"

"Bailey your son?"

"the chief" she squinted her eyes unamused, while Riggs' laugh echoed between the two of you "so I'll be better once I get home" she resumed

You glanced at the man, making sure he was invested in the papers Maggie gave him, before clearing your throat "hey, uhm" you waited for Meredith to look at you "I'm going to the bar to get a drink later, want to join me for a bite?"

She opened her mouth, seemingly debating on her answer, then shook her head after a minute "I can't, I have to put the kids to bed I'm sorry-"

"no no it's okay, don't worry" you waved your hand around, lightly swaying in your chair.

Meredith responded to your small smile with one of her own, though her eyes seemed to not want to end it there.

"uh, don't forget to page Maggie when you're done with them" she told Riggs. Then, with a small wave, she got out of the room.

"Yikes" the sound of papers colliding loudly with the table made you turn your neck to the other surgeon.

"what"

"nothing it's just" he shrugged his shoulders at your accusatory tone "I've been in your shoes, it's hard. good luck" he shook his head "I mean I failed so you definitely need it"

"oh fuck off, and focus on the case" you shot him a look and rolled your eyes at his arrogant, amused smile.

Riggs laughed at your comment, ready to respond, but the way you were biting on your lip, visibly lost in the papers in front of you, prevented him from doing so.

"Do you have an idea?"

It took a few more seconds, before you got up from your seat, relieved smile gracing your face "Maggie could be there too. She can take care of the heart and you'll work on the veins around it. How long do you think it'll take?"

Riggs thought it over, before nodding with a smile "I'd say no more than forty minutes"

"That way we won't leave him open for too long"

"we should have Meredith here more often" he joked, pointing a finger in your direction.

- - - -

After figuring the case out with Riggs you had just hoped for a quiet rest of the shift; but the world didn't want that for you, as one of you patients got rushed into surgery, so here you were now, getting out of the hospital two hours after your shift normally ended.

You stopped mid yawn when you heard footsteps quickly approaching. Turning around, you found Meredith standing in front of you, now dressed in her normal clothes, brown jacket around her shoulders, and ragged breaths coming out of her mouth.

"you're still here? I thought you already went home?"

She remained silent for a second to consider her words, covering it up as just catching her breath, then quickly spoke up "you're driving"

"what?"

"to the bar." She started explaining, watching as a smile started to make itself present on your face "I'm too tired to drive and I want to drink so you'll drive me home too"

You were actually about to go home, the day had taken a toll on you so you had decided to just go home to sleep. But Meredith didn't need to know that.

You would withhold that small information since she finally accepted to go out with you.

You weren't even sure you could call it 'going out', you didn't phrase it like that and you don't think she would have agreed to it if you did.

So this was just two friends hanging out. You'd take whatever she was willing to give you.

"okay" you said "my car is that way"

- - - -

The 'friendly hangout' went well, thankfully there was never tension or awkward silence when the two of you were alone.

Sober Meredith ranted to you about her stressful day and how she wanted to ground all three of her children for a whole week so she could get some rest. While tipsy Meredith scolded you for even thinking about work or your personal problems, "we came here to relax" she claimed, completely oblivious to her own hypocrisy.

And just as you promised, you didn't have a single glass of liquor, so you could drive a tipsy Meredith home, safe and sound.

"I left my car at the hospital" when she spoke up again after a quiet car ride - where you suspected she fell asleep - her words weren't slurred anymore, but they were still hard to hear with how her face was squashed against your shoulder. She was trying to keep herself warm, she said, tightening the jacket around her middle.

You were careful with your steps as to not make her lose balance. You were almost at her porch by now.

"I know, I drove us to the bar" You stopped walking and Meredith straightened her back.

You kept quiet, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere of the night, while she turned her body to unlock the door.

All the lights were off and the house seemed to be completely silent, Amelia and Maggie were probably already asleep. You let out a quiet yawn, shaking your head to try and wake yourself up. You couldn't afford to fall asleep on the road.

In the meantime, Meredith was still facing the door, the key was inside the hole but you didn't hear it turn yet. Her head hung low while her hand delicately gripped the door handle.

Before you could question it she turned around, letting her bag fall to the ground. She took a step closer to you, heart beating wildly in her chest paired with a weird ringing in her ears. It was only partially due to the alcohol.

You kept looking at her, a small smile on your lips despite your confusion, and she soon found herself unable to look away.

Your eyes were soft, she noticed, they were darker under this light but she could still catch a glimpse of their natural colour. She took a step closer, wanting to take a better look. You raised your hand along your waist in surprise, and she almost thought you were about to touch her. Almost wished you did.

Yet another step was taken, to the point where your feet were almost touching.

She didn't notice you leaning in.

From this distance Meredith could smell your perfume clearly. She already knew she liked it, she got acquainted with it while her head was resting on your shoulder. You didn't reek of alcohol, if there was any trace of it she knew it was her fault. But you still smelled the same you did hours ago.

Her hand grabbed your forearm to keep you there. She liked your perfume. It was new, it was different. Different from-

She took two steps back. Derek never smelled like that.

You tried taking a step forward, calling after her, but her hand left your forearm and moved in between you two to stop your movements.

"it's late" she shook her head, picking up her bag from the floor "you should go"

You opened your mouth, your defeated look was probably why she avoided your eyes "Mer"

"you should go" she repeated, and her hand was already pushing the door open, quickly disappearing behind it.

You refrained yourself from yelling after her, not wanting to wake up anyone, so you just sighed, heading back to your car.

Meredith grey Masterlist - Grey's anatomy Masterlist

General Masterlist

[mysterylilycheeta]

ONYX STORM REVIEW:

After 2 days of catching up on all the work I had postponed for the sake of reading OS, and organising my thoughts, I'm here with my spoiler free review of Onyx Storm. Please remember that these are my personal thoughts and opinions and you're free to agree or disagree based on your views

Rating: 3.25 stars

The Good:

The absolute lack of miscommunication between Xaden and Violet: This book is a gift for all those people who were annoyed to their wit's end by the repetitive stupid fights between Xaden and Violet in Iron Flame. They trust each other, communicate with each other and don't get mad about secrets. I was so pleasantly surprised

Ridoc: Ridoc went through such amazing character development, he easily became one of my favourite characters in the story. We saw him as only the comic relief friend till now but man, he shows such badassery in this book while still being his clown self. And, let's not forget his favourite dick jokes!

The Dragons: Anyone who knows me knows my favourite part about the series is Tairn and the other dragons. Love seeing my grumpy dad dragon, he's such a mood. We also have our sassy teenager Andarna to give him grief. I love all the moments Tairn started boasting about his lineage and his feat: he's such a dork!

Dain and Cat: I never truly hated Dain because I knew from Fourth Wing itself he never intentionally wanted to harm Violet. My only gripe with him was about breaking her trust and looking through her memories without her consent. But man, does he redeem himself. Needless to say, Dain is on my "need to protect" list. I really hated Cat in Iron Flame because she was such a stereotypical cringey evil ex and the way she attacked Violet was so crass and below the belt. She still has some shitty moments in the beginning of the book but she gets a lot better so much so that I want good things to happen to her in the next books. RY did a great job writing these two

Jealous Xaden: My o my was it a treat to see Xaden so jealous. RY fed us with those entertaining af moments. Read the book and you'll find out what I mean

Aaric: I was intrigued by Aaric in book 2 but he stepped up the game so much in this book. He is an amazing character and I'll throw hands if RY even tries to harm him in any way, istg.

The Bad:

Very mediocre worldbuilding: This might be just a timing issue, but the last fantasy book I read was the Mistborn series by Brandon Sanderson, and every fantasy fan knows the kind of world-building Sanderson does. Onyx Storm tries to introduce us to new places beside the continent, but it is not well done. We spend half the book in the Isle Kingdoms, yet they're not even mentioned on the map. They talk about routes to get to the kingdoms, but how am I supposed to follow them if you won't even mention them on the maps? Every Island has a god it worships and things go according to that but I think we could've had a little more information about them beforehand instead of being presented basic info right before we arrive at the next island. "We're going to said island, this is the god they believe in, here's a five point bullet lost of their customs"- NO, THAT'S NOT HOW YOU DO IT! Like I said, it might be because my last book was by Sanderson so my expectations were higher but the world felt so lacking.

Lack of Glossary: A glossary should be a must in every fantasy book, especially if you're branching out and diving deeper into worldbuilding. We are introduced to gods, islands, uprisings and groups of people we haven't even heard of before and we get hardly one or two lines about them in a chapter and then they are mentioned again 2 chapters later and we're supposed to follow. There were so many new names in OS, it was difficult to keep track of them after a while. I still don't completely understand who the Krovlan people were and what was their deal.

Lack of Basgiath: My favourite book in the series till now has been Fourth Wing and one of the biggest reasons for that was Basgiath. I loved that place and the way it felt an actual character in the story. That Basgiath charm is missing in this book. Basgiath is the biggest strength of this series, it's the reason why FW was so successful, the war college and it's deadly atmosphere, the challenges, the interpersonal relations, it was entertaining af. However as the series is progressing, it's turning into another typical romantasy involving young adults leading revolutions, making alliances, fighting wars etc. I started reading Fourth Wing because of it's setting and yet with each new book, we spend less and less time in Basgiath and it's just dampening my mood.

No real surprises: Let me be brutally honest- this book felt like a filler. Of course there are a few shocking moments with new information but it hardly hit the mark like the previous two books. There were no moments that essentially packed a punch. It's just a bunch of random sidequests to gain alliances which didn't up feeling all that meaningful because of worldbuilding problems. It also seemed like fanservice because of a lot of reasons but I won't mention them as they can be accounted as minor spoilers. Some characters died but it didn't feel impactful at all. It seemed more like Ry was just filling up the death quota because we can't have a book where no one dies

Violet and Xaden: Okay so here's the thing, I like both of them as characters and I think they make a good pair. However, I didn't ever truly feel the romance and this has been a problem since Fourth Wing. They have a shit ton of lusty moments but hardly any soft romantic domestic moments that make the relationship feel organic. I have always been disappointed by the lack of proper romantic development between these two. The problem in this book however is the dialogue- they felt so cheesy and downright cringe at times. Maybe show more and say less?? The way they keep saying nothing else matters as much and I know people are feral for how Xaden and Violet are ready to throw off the entire rebellion for each other but it irks me so much. Xaden, you are leading these people and you have accepted that responsibility. Stop endangering the lives of people you swore to protect because Violet might be in danger. She has other people to support her. Violet, don't get mad when people tell you your needs and wants will come second to Xaden's duty towards the people. He is their leader, he has to make those sacrifices, If you think that's unfair then find someone else to fill his position. You can't have the leadership position yet be each other's top priority. It might seem unfair but that is the right thing to do. I really don't feel like the two of them are fit to lead people. Agree with @thequietesthing's review about Violet's god level power feeling over dramatic and out of character at times.

The Ending: If any of you have talked to me about the book in the last few days, you'll know I'm frustrated af with the ending. It doesn't exactly feel like a well done cliffhanger, it's just plain messy. A bunch of unanswered questions to keep the reader confused and hooked for the next book but it just ruined the whole book for me. I have no issues with cliffhangers but the book should feel complete. The way Onyx Storm ended, it feels there were at least two more chapters that got deleted. It's just all over the place.

That was the review guys. I'll still wait for the next book to get published but my excitement has gone down quite a lot. I was expecting more of a Harry Potter style story where the main still occurs in the school/college itself but it seems like that isn't gonna be the case. I honestly believe this series should've been just 3 books instead of 5 but oh well, what can we say. Really agree with @justallihere and @justascrollingghost. We have almost the same complaints with the books lol P.S: The best surprise in this book: Broccoli, the kitten

[wchswift]

Under the Lights ༉‧₊˚ 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader Summary: A sweet and peaceful Christmas with Dean. Content: fluff, mostly soft moments, family, first Christmas at the bunker, I hate Mary but she is mentioned briefly, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 2k A/N: almost christmas and im so excited!! I really love christmas and lately these are the only ideas I can think of to write lol. i just love soft and happy dean so I thought I'd write a cute one shot about him having a good christmas bc all i wanted was to spend these holidays with him

mdni 𖤐 18+

Dean leaned against the doorway, the faintest curve of a smile playing on his lips. The sight of you, utterly absorbed in decorating the tree, tugged at something deep in his chest. The soft glow of the twinkling lights painted your face in golds and silvers. You were on your toes, reaching for a high branch, determined to hang an ornament in its perfect place. From his vantage point, Dean couldn’t help but grin. The way your nose crinkled when something didn’t sit just right, the soft hum of Christmas music as you worked—it all made the bunker feel a little less like a fortress and a little more like home.

The table behind you bore the chaos of your efforts—ornaments arranged and rearranged, tinsel spilling onto the floor like silken threads of moonlight. It was chaos, yes, but it was yours, and Dean found it impossible to look away.

“Sweetheart,” he finally said, his voice warm and teasing, breaking through the soft hum of Let It Snow playing in the background. “Not to rush a masterpiece, but you’ve been at this tree longer than it takes Santa to finish his route.”

You turned, giving him a mock glare, your lips pressed into a pout that was as endearing as it was teasing. “It has to be perfect, Dean.”

“It already is,” he countered, stepping closer, his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. “Lights, ornaments, a star on top—what more does a tree need?”

“Your enthusiasm,” you shot back, turning back to adjust the ribbon for what must have been the hundredth time.

Dean chuckled, moving to your side, sliding an arm around your waist, and pulling you against him. “My enthusiasm’s here,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "I'm just more contained about it."

You let out a soft sigh, letting yourself lean deeper into his warm embrace as you closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort he provided. "I know, Dean," you began, your voice gentle but filled with understanding. "But I also know how excited you get about these celebrations. Deep down, you wish for that typical family cliche, and you and Sam truly deserve it. I just want us to have a memorable time together… Could you please enjoy this too and get into the mood with me?"

You turned your face to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with hope and sincerity. Your tone was calm, and the warmth of your words seemed to hang in the air between you. Dean, ever the skeptic, tried to roll his eyes in playful defiance, but a smile broke through despite his efforts. The corners of his mouth lifted, and he leaned in, planting a quick, soft kiss on your lips before surrendering to your encouragement, as he usually did.

The sound of boots against metal echoed through the bunker as Sam descended the stairs. His voice rang out before he even reached the bottom. “Dean, what’s going on in here?”

Sam paused, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in the sight of his brother atop the map table, duct-taping garland to the ceiling beams.

"Decking the halls, Sammy. What’s it look like?” He replied, still focused on the lights.

“It looks like a fire hazard,” Sam deadpanned, crossing his arms as he took in the mess of lights, ornaments, and tinsel scattered across the room.

You emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies, just as Dean hopped down from the table. “Sam, you should’ve seen him earlier. He tried to hang stockings with fishing wire.”

Dean shrugged, unapologetic. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Sam sighed, shaking his head. "So, this is your new thing now? Christmas?” He muttered though a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Oh, come on, Sam,” you chimed in, setting the cookies down on the table. “It's the best time of the year. Even hunters deserve a little holiday spirit.”

Dean grabbed a cookie, pointing it at Sam. “She’s right. Stop being a Grinch.”

Reluctantly, Sam joined in, helping you and Dean finish decorating the bunker. By the time you were done, the usually cold, utilitarian space looked warm and inviting. Lights draped across the walls, the centerpiece Sam had crafted out of pine branches and candles sat proudly on the map table, and the tree sparkled in the corner.

Dean stepped back, hands on his hips, surveying the scene. “Not bad for a bunch of hunters, huh?”

Later that evening, the bunker had settled into a cozy stillness. Sam had retreated to his room, leaving you and Dean sitting by the softly glowing tree. The faint crackle of a vinyl record Dean had unearthed earlier filled the air, Bing Crosby crooning about dreaming of a white Christmas.

You leaned back against the armchair, watching Dean as he entertained himself by drinking his hot chocolate. The moment felt right, so you reached beside you and pulled out a carefully wrapped box tied with red string.

“Okay,” you said, your voice tinged with both excitement and hesitation, “before you make a big deal out of this, I just want to say that it’s practical.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose as he took the box, his lips twitching into a grin. “Practical, huh? Not sure what that means coming from you.”

“Just open it,” you urged, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap.

Dean unwrapped the box with care, his grin softening as he revealed a thick leather-bound journal. His fingers brushed over the cover, and for a moment, he was quiet, his thumb tracing the edges of the pages.

“It’s, uh…” you started, your voice softer now. “I noticed you don’t really have a place to write things down—your thoughts, memories, whatever. So I thought… maybe you could use it. For good stuff. Things you want to remember. Not like hunting stuff or anything like your dad's but something good? Or whatever you want I don't know...” you rambled, feeling anxious.

Dean opened the journal, flipping through the blank pages. Inside the front cover, you’d written a small inscription in your neat handwriting: For all the moments you want to hold on to.

He stared at the words for a long beat before letting out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You know me too well, sweetheart.”

“I just thought,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “after everything we’ve been through, it might be nice to have something that’s yours. Something that’s just… good.”

Dean closed the journal and set it carefully on the table beside him. Then he turned to you, his green eyes impossibly soft. “You always know what I need before I even know it myself.”

Before you could respond, he reached behind him and pulled something from his jacket pocket. “Okay, my turn.”

He held out a small box, its edges worn, like it had been carried around for some time. “It’s not new,” he said, almost apologetically. “But I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”

You opened the box slowly, revealing a simple yet beautiful silver bracelet. The charms hanging were clearly chosen by a hunter, it was small and subtle, but unmistakable.

“It was my mom’s,” Dean said quietly, his gaze dropping to the bracelet. “She always said it was for protection. I’ve kept it all these years, but… I think she’d want you to have it.”

Your throat tightened, and tears pricked at your eyes as you looked at him. “Dean, I… I can’t take this. It’s too important.”

Dean shook his head, reaching out to take your hand. “You’re important,” he said simply. “And if anyone deserves to have it, it’s you.”

You stared at the bracelet, overwhelmed by the gesture. Then, without a word, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head.

When you finally pulled away, you slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, smiling through the tears in your eyes. “Thank you, Dean. I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know you will,” he said softly, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the record player. And as you leaned back against him, the bracelet resting cool against your skin, you felt a sense of belonging that you hadn’t known you were missing.

The warm connection from the gift exchange flowed naturally into the next day, making every interaction lighter, and more meaningful.

The kitchen was a flurry of activity as the three of you prepared dinner. Dean insisted on taking charge of the main course, proudly presenting a vegetarian lasagna for Sam and you.

“See? I’m not just a pie guy,” he said, grinning.

Meanwhile, you and Sam teamed up to bake cookies. It started out innocent enough, but it quickly devolved into a flour fight when Sam accidentally knocked over the mixing bowl.

Dean walked in just as you lobbed a handful of flour at Sam, only to hit him square in the chest instead. He froze, staring down at his now-flour-covered shirt. “What the hell, guys?”

Dean just watched you and Sam burst into laughter, trying to stay mad.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered, brushing flour off his jacket. “Real funny. Guess who’s cleaning this up?”

“Not me,” you and Sam said in unison, making you chuckle again.

Dean shook his head, a grin appearing on his face despite his attempt to remain irritated.

Later that night, the three of you gathered in the living room, your plates cleared and the remnants of the day’s chaos tucked away. Sam stretched out on the other armchair with a book, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he occasionally glanced at you and Dean by the tree, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders.

The bracelet he’d given you caught the soft glow of the lights, its charm resting lightly against your wrist. You found yourself absently touching it, grounding yourself in the weight of what it meant.

Sam finally closed his book, setting it aside as he stretched his long legs. “You know,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “You two actually did a pretty good job. I think this might be the first time the bunkers actually felt… normal. Like a real home.”

Dean snorted softly. “Took long enough, huh?”

Sam smiled, his expression soft. “Yeah. But I’m glad we got here.”

Dean raised his mug in a mock toast. “To surviving another year and not burning the place down with Christmas lights.”

Sam rolled his eyes but lifted his mug too. “Yeah, yeah... To family.”

You lifted your own mug, smiling as you echoed the sentiment. “To family.”

The three of you sat quietly for a while, watching the lights twinkle on the tree. Eventually, Sam excused himself, muttering something about research, leaving you and Dean alone again.

Dean nudged you gently, drawing your attention. “Come with me for a sec,” he said, his voice low but insistent.

Curious, you followed him as he grabbed a thick blanket from the couch and led you up the large stairs of the bunker. He stopped at one of the heavy iron doors, twisting the wheel to unlock it before pulling it open to reveal the wide, open expanse of the night sky.

The cold air hit you first, crisp and biting, but the sight of the stars made you forget it almost instantly. Dean draped the blanket over your shoulders and pulled you close, his warmth a welcome contrast to the chill.

“Figured we could use some fresh air,” he said simply, his voice quiet.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as you gazed up at the stars. They glittered against the inky blackness, impossibly bright and infinite, like tiny promises of hope scattered across the sky.

“We really did it huh?” Dean murmured, his voice low and warm.

“Did what?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

“This,” he said simply, gesturing back to the bunker. “Christmas. The whole thing. It’s not half bad.”

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, resting your head back against his shoulder.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The world felt distant here, the weight of hunting, loss, and responsibility held at bay by the vastness of the universe.

Dean’s voice broke the silence, soft but sure. “You know, I never thought I’d get something like this.”

You turned to look at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “Something like what?”

He gestured toward the stars, the blanket, the faint glow of the bunker behind you. “All this. A night where everything’s quiet. Where it feels like we’re not just surviving.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You deserve this, Dean. You deserve nights like this and so much more.”

He looked at you then, his green eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the starlight above. A gentle smile played on his lips as he spoke, “So do you,” his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb grazed over your knuckles, sending a warm thrill through you. "Thank you." With a tender sincerity, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and lingering, filled with a depth of love and unspoken emotions that seemed to wrap around you like a cozy blanket, leaving you breathless in the stillness of the night.

The two of you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet and each other, until the cold became too much to ignore.

As you made your way back inside, Dean caught your hand, stopping you just before you reached the main hallway.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough around the edges. “Merry Christmas.”

You smiled, leaning up to give him a peck on the lips, your heart full. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

And in that moment, with the warmth of his hand in yours and the quiet hum of life around you, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time: hope. This was home—messy, chaotic, and imperfect. And it was everything you needed.

a/n: oh my god, I had so much fun writing this :) I don't know if I liked how it turned out that much, but I thought it was cute enough to post...

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[sandra-vu]

The Sims 3 MODS LIST

this is basically a list of everything i have in my game right now (minus custom content). i'm very satisfied with this setup and i hope you can find something you'll find useful. everything is sorted in alpabetical order, because i love alphabetical order lol read mod descriptions before downloading and don't forget to thank the creators for their hard work! :)

ESSENTIAL / PERFORMANCE / SETTINGS x Add Any Lot Size x Catalog search x Gameplay Core Mod (tweaked to my liking, might show you my settings sometime if you'd like) x Interact on sloped terrain x New CAS and CAP animation options (posehum_posepets version) x No Camera Fade for Sims x No Foot Tapping While Waiting For Clear Route! x No Route Fail Tantrum Animations! x NRaas (Error trap, Go here, Master controller, Overwatch, Register) x Pregnancy Progress Controller (No Non Pregnant version) x Reduce/Remove Lag caused by Houseboats x Remove stencils/overlays from Build/Buy/CAS objects x Shimrod's Camera Lowlevel (edited by BrntWaffles) (Drift version) x Smooth patch

TWEAKS / FIXES x Anach tweaks (bouncer bribe x10, burglar tweaks, celebrity difficulty, celeb sue paparazzi, club closing times (5 am), donation amount, higher bills, longer eating, no auto pet wake up, party tweaks, wash hands chance) x Annoyances disabler x Cross eye fix x No "Mod scripts found" x No auto venue placement (reupload found here) x No build sparkles x No gloves w outerwear x No intro x Pick up toddler fix x Pigtail glitch fix x Random sim fixes x Set hour cheat x Slower cars, taxis, and bikes x Toddler routing fix

GAMEPLAY x 75% Chance per day elder will die x Acne & Skincare (tweaked – only teens) x Adults can play peekaboo and hug toddlers x Almost all TheSweetSimmer's mods (family gameplay must haves!) x Auto lights overhaul x Burglar hate x Burglars steal simoleons too x Cancel time off x Children can series (almost all of them) x Easy variety attraction x Energy drinks V2 x Faster gardening 50% x Fridge mod (no fridge shopping) x Get drunk x Hang out interaction (2t3) (all ages) x Layoff mod x Let me take a selfie x Lot population (reduced) x Meals anytime + some desserts x No autonomous homework x No imaginary friends x No mutated hair or eyes x No social groups (uni only) x Random genetics x Retirement home & elder care x Shorter Uni (3 credit hours) x Sims can skate on smaller ponds x Skating is fun x Take practice shots (photography) x Tooth fairy mod x User-directed scolding + other punishment tweaks x Wider TV viewing angle x Yoga mod

SLIDERS x AWT - Hat sliders x OEM – Eyeball size

DEFAULT REPLACEMENTS (MISC) x Apple Sauce Baby food (4t3) x Better ingredient thumbnails x Clean UI (BETA) x Facial Expressions (ALT) (TSM to TS3) x Fish mod x HD thought bubbles x Loading Screen Overhaul x Modern cursors x Modern map tags x Nectar glass replacer x New dishes (BOWL & MUG) (4t3) x TV Channels (4t3) x Walk cycle edits

DEFAULT REPLACEMENTS (CAS) x 2t3 plantsim body vines x Beards and eyebrows x Beetle eyes for cats and dogs x Beetle eyes for horses x Beetle eyes for humans (i also use these contacts for occults) x Blush baby skin (infant) x CAS background (steel blue) x ChazyBazzy hair defaults (pretty and still very maxis match textures, EA meshes) x Eye colors (presets) x Eyeball replacements – PU-CU / TU-EU x Freckles and moles x - x Makeup replacements x Skin - Satellites (DEF & NON-DEF)

DEFAULT REPLACEMENTS (ENVIRONMENT) x Better sun x Moon x Perfect Day – RH water with Gelina’s lighting tweaks x Reworked & Improved EA Lights x Skyrim Star Field (1024x1024) x Windows Lite Overrides

[otrtbs]

wait say more about illegal street racer bartylus pls…

ugh okay so the hard part is that i would have to do a lotttttttt of research because i dont know anything about anything except i like fast cars and hot people and crime and i would bark like a dog for suki from 2 fast 2 furious but like... i cant even parallel park what the fuck do i know about fancy cars????? NOTHING!

BUT

i have a small vision™️ here are the vibes™️

backdrop of some insane and fun neon city. obviously the black family would be from an insane line of illegal street racers. sirius was the best to ever do it but he doesn't anymore for Reasons and so regulus took up the mantel and is the fastest, best racer ever.

regulus has insane tension w james (cause im still me) and he still races even tho sirius doesnt but then one day barty rolls into town.... crazy tricked-out car... and beats regulus downnnnnnnn which of course makes regulus furious but also obsessed bc wdym there is someone better than him??? and they begin their insane obsessive rivalry and james is like?? hello </3 pookie u were supposed to love me

but then sirius gets back into racing which freaks regulus out because they do duos so it's reg and his best guy vs. sirius and his best guy (james) and regulus picks barty even though he fucking hates him because he's the best.

also i want marlene to be the mechanic who works on everyone's cars and dorcas is gonna be the mastermind who plans all the race routes, maps out where the police are, checks the scanners, bails them out of jail etc etc

also i want barty to be racing bc he's always scrounging for money and insane and pouring all his winnings into his crazy car and regulus is racing bc it runs in his blood but he's also his family is evil and smuggling .......smth across city and state lines. i wanna say stolen art right now. but that's too on brand for me. we must break free!

i just want drama. fast cars. fun races. higher stakes. police involvement. accidents. sabotage. cars blowing up. etc etc

[patrixjia]

Velvet Chains (Part III)

Plot Overview:

Y/N is caught between her father’s crumbling empire and Chan’s rebellion. As she help Chan track down missing operatives, their bond grows, leading to a deadly confrontation that forces Y/N to question her loyalty. Chan offers a chance to dismantle her father’s empire, and though torn, Y/N chooses to join him, starting a dangerous journey to reshape their future.

Warnings: BangChan!Mafia, Mafia!AU, mature themes, emotional distress, angst, violence, dangerous situations, strong language, mental health struggles, (the smut will be in the next chapter🤭)

PART I, PART II, PART IV, PART V, PART VI, FINAL PART

Author note:

Well, well, well, look at us—third chapter in, and I’m still alive to tell the tale! 😂 This chapter? Yeah, it’s a beast. I’ve never written anything this long or complex, and honestly, I’m half-wondering if I’ve accidentally started writing an entire novel instead of just a chapter. But here we are, diving into some serious emotional roller coasters, plot twists, and the kind of chaos that makes me question my sanity.

I really hope you all enjoy this wild ride as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it (even if it has given me a few grey hairs along the way). Your support means the world to me! So buckle up, we’re just getting started. And, as always, drop me a comment if you’re loving or hating something—I’m here for all of it. Let’s keep this adventure going! ✨ Also, just a little heads up… the next chapter is going to get a little smuttier 😉.

⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆⭒⋆

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, the muted warmth doing little to soften the chill that lingered in the room. You stretched, pushing off the weight of sleep with a growing restlessness. The space was luxurious but sterile, the kind of calculated opulence that screamed control rather than comfort.

When the door creaked open, breakfast was placed on a table near the window, and the figure delivering it slipped out as quickly as they’d come. You ignored it, slipping through the door before it could click shut. You weren’t going to spend the morning caged.

The hallways were quiet, the air filled with a faint hum of electricity. The mansion was sprawling but not ostentatious, its corridors lined with muted artwork and design choices that reeked of deliberation. It wasn’t your father’s world of obvious power and intimidation. It was colder. Subtler.

You found yourself wandering into a study. Unlike the other rooms, this one felt alive. A faint coffee scent lingered, mixing with the tang of paper and leather. A massive map dominated one wall, scattered with colored pins and strings. You moved closer, scanning the markings.

It didn’t take long to piece together what you were looking at. It was a blueprint of Victor’s empire—supply chains, strongholds, key distribution hubs. The red pins marked locations already compromised, while others, still green, pulsed with potential. A web of alliances and pressure points sprawled before you like an open wound.

You leaned forward, your eyes narrowing as they landed on a cluster of yellow-marked routes near the northern sector. The shipping lines there were irregular, crisscrossing in ways that screamed inefficiency. You could see where Chan’s strategy was stuck—his carefully laid plans bottlenecked by gaps he hadn’t yet closed.

Your fingers brushed across the documents scattered on the desk—financials, coded logs, surveillance notes. Victor’s empire wasn’t just cracking; it was being dismantled piece by piece.

“You’re full of surprises.”

The sound of Chan’s voice cut through the stillness, low and smooth. You straightened but didn’t turn. “And you’re full of shadows. How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to wonder if I should be worried.” His tone carried its usual casual confidence, but his eyes flicked toward the papers you’d been studying. “Finding everything to your liking?”

You turned, leaning back against the desk with deliberate nonchalance. “Interesting work. Though I can’t tell if the overcomplication is intentional or just your style.”

Chan stepped closer, his hands in his pockets, his gaze sharp as it swept over you and the map. “Overcomplication?”

You tilted your head toward the yellow routes. “You’re clogging your own lanes. The northern supply chain is built for redundancy, but instead of reinforcing efficiency, you’re creating a choke point. It’s obvious Victor did it to keep people guessing, but now you’re tripping over it.”

Chan’s eyes flicked to the map, and for the first time, he hesitated. “Interesting observation.”

“Observation? No. Solution,” you corrected, stepping toward the map. “You’re trying to seize control of both eastern and northern routes simultaneously. That’s why it’s falling apart. Drop the secondary lines from the north—they’re dead weight. Consolidate the flow into two hubs instead of four, and you’ll cut transit time by half.”

He stared at the map, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”

His gaze returned to you, sharper now, as if trying to read the thoughts you hadn’t spoken aloud. “Why are you helping me?”

You held his stare, refusing to flinch under the weight of his scrutiny. “Maybe I like a challenge.”

His smirk grew, slow and deliberate. “That’s not an answer.”

“No,” you said, your voice calm but firm. “It’s not.”

The room seemed to shrink under the tension, the air thick with unspoken questions. Finally, Chan broke the silence. “You know, if you keep showing off, I might start thinking you want a seat at the table.”

You crossed your arms, meeting his smirk with a wry one of your own. “Maybe I just like proving you wrong. You’re not as untouchable as you think, Chan. Your plans aren’t perfect.”

“And yet,” he countered, “here you are, improving them.”

You exhaled sharply, turning back to the map. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you could keep up.”

He chuckled, the sound low and amused. “And?”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your smirk sharp as a blade. “Jury’s still out.”

Chan stepped closer, close enough that you could feel his presence but not enough to invade your space. “You’re still dodging my question, Y/N. Why help me? Are you so confident Victor can withstand it?”

Your jaw tightened at the mention of your father. “Maybe I’m not as confident in Victor as you think.”

That seemed to catch him off guard, though he quickly masked it. “Careful. That almost sounded like an admission.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you shot back, your tone lighter but no less firm. “I haven’t picked a side. Yet.”

The faintest flicker of something crossed his face—respect, intrigue, or perhaps a mix of both. “Fair enough,” he said finally. “But when you do, make sure it’s the right one.”

You laughed, the sound short and humorless. “And which side is that? Yours?”

“I’m not the one clinging to a crumbling empire,” he said smoothly. “I’m building something new. Something better.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception, but all you found was unshakable confidence. It annoyed you as much as it intrigued you.

“Better is subjective,” you said finally.

“Then help me define it.” His voice dropped, soft but unyielding. “You’re smart enough to know the cracks in Victor’s empire can’t be patched. The question is, what do you want to see rise from the ashes?”

For the first time, you didn’t have an immediate answer.

Chan’s smirk returned, lighter now but no less self-assured. “Think about it,” he said, turning toward the door. “I’ll see if your suggestion works. But if it doesn’t…”

“It will,” you interrupted.

He paused in the doorway, glancing back with a grin that was equal parts challenging and amused. “We’ll see.”

The door closed behind him, leaving you alone with the map, the documents, and the weight of his words.

What do you want to see rise from the ashes?

The question lingered, unsettling and persistent.

And for the first time, you weren’t sure of the answer.

The days since the confrontation with Chan had been strange, to say the least. The mansion’s rhythm ebbed and flowed with calculated precision, as though every movement, every conversation, had been planned days in advance.

You spent your time exploring its sprawling halls, learning its rhythms, and testing your boundaries. The guards rarely spoke to you beyond clipped warnings when you wandered too close to restricted areas. You couldn’t tell if they were following Chan’s orders or acting out of their own wariness.

Chan, however, was different. He appeared only when he wanted to, catching you off guard with sly remarks and a confidence that made it clear he was always one step ahead. His teasing came with a sharp edge, but there was no denying the undercurrent of mutual curiosity between you.

You didn’t trust him, and he didn’t trust you. Yet, in those fleeting conversations, there was a spark—an understanding that neither of you were playing at full strength yet.

Then, one morning, the mansion’s calm shattered.

You’d been in the study, feigning interest in a book, when the sound of hurried footsteps caught your ear. The low hum of conversation from the hall was sharper today, clipped and urgent.

Moments later, Chan strode into the room, his usual composure marred by a tightness in his jaw. He moved with purpose, his focus so sharp that he didn’t acknowledge your presence.

“You’re upset,” you noted, setting the book aside.

He ignored you, striding to his desk and pulling up a screen.

Before you could push further, another figure entered the room: Changbin. His pace matched Chan’s intensity, his voice low and urgent as he spoke.

“Victor’s people hit the northern base,” Changbin reported. “They’ve taken out the comms tower. Felix and Hyunjin went dark an hour ago.”

Chan froze for a split second before his mask of control slid back into place. “Casualties?”

“None confirmed yet,” Changbin said. “But it’s not looking good. We have partial intel—they’ve shut down our local network, and the safe houses are at risk. If they’ve got Felix or Hyunjin…”

Chan exhaled through his nose, his focus razor-sharp. “Start evacuation protocols for the northern sector. Clear out the Graham location and put everyone in safe houses on standby. If they’ve been compromised, I want them out of there before Victor’s people can move.”

Your ears perked at the name, a chill running through you. “Wait—Graham and Sons?” you interrupted, stepping forward.

Both men turned to you, Chan’s eyes narrowing. “What about it?”

You frowned, your mind racing. “That’s not just a random location. It’s one of Victor’s decoy transport hubs. If you’ve got people stationed there, they’re already compromised.”

Changbin looked to Chan, his expression unreadable but tinged with suspicion. “You trust her?”

Chan didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied you, his gaze intense. “How do you know that?”

“Because I grew up in this,” you shot back, folding your arms. “You think I don’t know the names he hides behind? Graham and Sons isn’t just a front. It’s bait. Victor uses it to lure out threats to his network—and he won’t hesitate to cut down anyone who gets too close.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

Changbin crossed his arms. “And we’re just supposed to take her word for it?”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. “Fine, don’t listen to me. But if you wait too long, Felix and Hyunjin won’t be unaccounted for—they’ll be dead.”

Chan’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then he turned to Changbin. “Pull everyone from Graham and cross-check her intel with what we’ve got. Double it with our sources on the ground. If it matches, we move.”

Changbin hesitated, clearly wanting to argue, but nodded. “On it.”

He left the room, and Chan turned back to you. His gaze was sharp, calculating. “Why help me?”

You didn’t flinch under his scrutiny. “Maybe I don’t want to see Felix and Hyunjin killed. Or maybe I’d rather not see my father win.”

Chan smirked faintly, though his eyes were still hard. “Still haven’t picked a side, have you?”

“Would you prefer I did?”

His silence spoke volumes.

“I’ll take that as a no,” you said, your voice dry.

He leaned back against the desk, his posture deceptively casual. “If your information is right, you’ll have saved lives today. If it’s not…”

"You think I’m lying?”

“I think you’ve got more cards to play,” he replied smoothly. “And I don’t trust people who keep their hands hidden.”

You stepped closer, your voice calm but firm. “Then maybe you should play smarter.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze locked on yours. Then his lips quirked into a faint smirk. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I aim to keep things interesting,” you replied, your tone light but with an undercurrent of steel.

Chan pushed off the desk, brushing past you toward the door. “Keep proving yourself useful, and maybe I’ll start believing you’re not working an angle.”

You watched him go, the tension in the room thick and charged. Somewhere out there, Felix and Hyunjin were waiting—caught in the web of a game far larger than either of them could control.

And for reasons you weren’t ready to name, you hoped you’d been right.

Later that evening the tension in the mansion was palpable, an undercurrent of urgency threading through every hallway. Chan had been holed up in his office since the crisis broke, and though you were technically “off-limits” to the ongoing operation, you’d found a way to keep yourself within earshot of every critical update.

The news wasn’t promising. Felix and Hyunjin were still unaccounted for, and the evacuation of Graham and Sons had only confirmed what you’d already suspected: your father’s people had the upper hand.

When Chan’s voice called your name from the hall, you half-expected him to demand that you stay out of his way. Instead, his tone was calm, measured. Too calm.

You pushed the door open to find him standing at his desk, surrounded by screens displaying live feeds, maps, and rows of encrypted data. Changbin hovered nearby, arms crossed, tension radiating off him in waves.

Chan gestured to you without preamble. “You’ve been watching long enough. Sit.”

You raised a brow, keeping your voice steady. “I didn’t realize you were taking suggestions.”

“I’m not,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you. “I’m testing you. You know your father’s network better than anyone in this room. Prove it.”

You stepped into the room, feeling the weight of both men’s eyes on you. Taking the chair across from Chan, you crossed your legs and leaned back, affecting a confidence you weren’t entirely sure you felt.

“Where’s the hole?” you asked, nodding toward the map on the central monitor.

Chan exchanged a brief glance with Changbin before turning the screen toward you. “Here,” he said, pointing to a blinking red marker. “Safe house near Monroe. Felix and Hyunjin were scheduled to meet there, but they never checked in. No comms, no movement.”

You studied the map, your mind working quickly. Your father’s security protocols weren’t just strict—they were obsessive. If his people had cut communication lines, it wasn’t just to block intel. They were setting a trap.

“They’ll have a fallback,” you said. “Felix and Hyunjin. If they know the area’s compromised, they’ll move to the secondary site.”

“We don’t have a secondary site near Monroe,” Changbin said flatly.

“Not yours. Victor’s,” you clarified.

Chan’s brow furrowed, interest flickering in his eyes. “Explain.”

You leaned forward, pointing at the map. “Victor doesn’t trust his own men, let alone outsiders. Every base, every safe house—he sets up redundancies, but not for the reasons you think. It’s not to protect his people. It’s to catch them if they run.”

“And you think Felix and Hyunjin would know about this?” Chan asked, his tone skeptical but curious.

“They wouldn’t have to,” you said. “Victor’s patterns are predictable once you know them. He keeps fallback locations close but hidden, somewhere his own men wouldn’t think to look unless they were desperate.”

Changbin’s frown deepened. “That’s a lot of guesswork.”

You shot him a look. “Do you have a better idea?”

Chan held up a hand, silencing the argument before it could escalate. His gaze stayed on you, sharp and probing. “What kind of fallback location are we talking about?”

You tapped your fingers on the edge of the desk, recalling the layouts you’d studied for years. “Something off-grid. An abandoned structure, maybe a warehouse. He’d want it close enough to monitor, but isolated enough that no one would stumble on it by accident.”

Chan nodded slowly, his mind already working through possibilities. “Changbin, pull up the satellite maps for the area. Focus on industrial zones or decommissioned sites within a five-mile radius of the Monroe house.”

As Changbin worked, Chan turned back to you, his expression unreadable. “Why help them?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than you’d expected. You could have given him a dozen answers—some practical, some calculated—but the truth was simpler.

“Because I can,” you said quietly. “And because I don’t know yet what side I’m on.”

He studied you for a long moment, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Suspicion? Respect? Maybe both.

Changbin’s voice broke the silence. “Got something. Old manufacturing plant, shut down five years ago. It’s less than three miles from the safe house, just outside the patrol radius.”

Chan nodded sharply, already moving toward the door. “Prep the team. We’ll leave in five.”

To your surprise, he turned back to you, his gaze steady. “You’re coming.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You know Victor’s traps better than anyone. If this is one of them, I want you there.”

“And if I’m wrong?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

Chan smirked, his confidence infuriatingly unshaken. “Then I guess we’ll both find out.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. Going with him meant stepping further into his world, further away from your father’s. It meant testing your loyalties in a way you weren’t sure you were ready for.

But it also meant a chance to prove you weren’t just a pawn in someone else’s game.

“Fine,” you said, rising to your feet. “But if this goes south, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Chan’s smirk widened, and for the first time, you saw something close to genuine amusement in his eyes. “Noted.”

As the team prepared to move, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment—this decision—was another crack in the foundation you’d spent your entire life standing on.

And you weren’t sure whether you were ready to see it fall.

The night had been long and tense. The team, guided by the plan you had proposed, moved quickly through the industrial zone. The dilapidated manufacturing plant you’d pinpointed turned out to be the fallback location Felix and Hyunjin had made for themselves. The security measures were minimal—just enough to keep outsiders at bay, but not enough to fool someone familiar with Victor’s tactics.

It was exactly as you’d predicted. Felix and Hyunjin had been trapped, but they hadn’t been caught. They’d already set up an escape route of their own, using an old underground access tunnel leading out of the compound.

As the operatives infiltrated the plant, you couldn’t help but feel a small rush of satisfaction. Felix and Hyunjin were safe—finally. The team worked in smooth coordination, securing them without any further casualties. You had been right all along.

“You were right,” Chan muttered as he surveyed the area with his usual stoic expression. It wasn’t much, but you caught the subtle shift in his eyes as he acknowledged your insight.

Felix gave you a tired but grateful smile. “Guess we owe you one.”

“Just don’t get caught next time,” you replied with a smirk, though the satisfaction of the mission’s success warmed something inside you.

But the victory was short-lived.

The atmosphere at the mansion had barely settled before the next wave of danger hit. As the operatives and the team returned, expecting a brief respite, a wave of alarms shattered the uneasy silence.

Chan’s hand flew to his earpiece, his voice hard as he barked orders to the team. “They’ve found us. Victor’s men are here.”

Your heart dropped as you turned to Chan, his eyes narrowing. “Get to the safe room. Now.”

Before you could even respond, the mansion was plunged into chaos. You moved quickly, following Chan and the team as they scrambled to reinforce key exits and prepare for a full-on assault. But even with the heightened security, the feeling of being hunted—of being trapped—was suffocating.

You had no time to think before the first round of gunfire hit, sharp and deafening, echoing through the halls. The mansion wasn’t just under siege; they were inside.

“Stay behind me!” Chan growled as he pulled you into a nearby hallway. You barely had time to register the sheer danger of the moment before you were crouched low, moving quickly as his operatives returned fire.

But then, in the chaos, everything seemed to happen at once. You ducked behind a pillar, narrowly avoiding a burst of gunfire. In the process, you twisted your ankle, collapsing to the ground with a painful grunt. Before you could recover, another round exploded too close to your position, a stray bullet grazing your arm.

You hissed in pain, clutching at your bleeding arm. You couldn’t focus on it; the only thing you could focus on was the sheer force of the attack. You barely heard Chan’s voice over the clamor of the assault.

“Stay down,” he barked, moving toward you with a fierce protectiveness that was uncharacteristic of his usual cold exterior.

But you didn’t have time to argue as he swept you into his arms, pulling you behind the nearest barricade. The calculated focus in his eyes never faltered. He was in command, but there was something else—an urgency to keep you safe that you hadn’t anticipated.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his voice tense as he checked your injury. You could feel his hands on you, pulling your arm gently to assess the wound. Despite the high-stakes situation, there was a tenderness in the way he moved, as though he wasn’t just trying to save you from harm—but from something deeper.

His fingers brushed your skin, an almost imperceptible gentleness in the midst of chaos. For a moment, it was just the two of you—the madness of the world outside and the calculated storm of gunfire drowned out by the shared connection.

“This won’t be the last time,” he said, his voice low as he wrapped your arm carefully, making sure the pressure was right. You could feel his fingers, light but deliberate, as he treated the wound. There was no rush, no panic.

For a brief second, you noticed something about him—something that wasn’t calculated or cold. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as though he cared more than he was willing to show.

“You’re fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, his gaze steady, but his expression softened for just a moment. “You’re not dying on me.”

You blinked, the rawness of the moment catching you off guard. “You’re sure?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. For a moment, it was as if the world paused—if only briefly. The sounds of gunfire were a muffled background to the intensity of his focus. Then, without breaking eye contact, he tightened the bandage and stood, pulling you to your feet.

His voice was hard again as he guided you toward the nearest exit. “We don’t have time to talk. Let’s go.”

But even as you moved through the corridors, escaping the immediate danger, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the quiet moment shared between the two of you wasn’t one of simple survival. Something had shifted. Something unspoken.

And in the aftermath of the chaos, with the scent of blood and danger in the air, you realized you’d seen a side of Chan no one else had—one that made you question where your loyalties truly lay.

The hours following the attack passed in a blur. The mansion, once a fortress of impenetrable walls, now felt like a fragile shell that could crack at any moment. Chan and his team had neutralized the threat swiftly, using the knowledge you’d helped provide about Victor’s network and the strategic positions of his men. With a few tactical moves, the assailants were driven back, and though some minor damage had been done, the mansion stood strong. Felix and Hyunjin were safe. The team was intact. The immediate danger was over.

But the weight of the night hung in the air, heavy with the unsaid. The adrenaline that had coursed through your veins in the heat of battle had given way to something quieter, more complex. The echoes of gunfire were gone, but the tension between you and Chan lingered, thick and undeniable.

You were in the kitchen now, nursing a cup of water, trying to clear your mind. The events of the day had left you exhausted—physically, yes, but more so mentally. You had done your part, had proven your worth, but there was no escaping the pull that Chan seemed to have on you, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. The attraction was there, undeniable. But it was dangerous.

You felt his presence before you saw him, the subtle shift in the air when Chan entered the room. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was there—his energy filled the space. His sharp eyes on you, the silent weight of his presence, made your pulse quicken despite yourself.

“You should be resting,” he said casually, as though the tension that had laced his commands earlier had never existed. His voice, however, carried a hint of something else—an edge, a challenge.

You didn’t look up as you replied, keeping your voice steady. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” he teased, stepping closer, just enough to be in your line of sight. His gaze flickered to your arm, now bandaged and well on the way to healing. “You’re tough. I’ll give you that.”

You scoffed lightly, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your neck at his words. The way he was looking at you now—almost amused—felt like a game, but one you weren’t sure you knew the rules to. You took a small sip of water, needing to put some space between you and the emotions threatening to spill over.

Chan didn’t let up, though. “I’m surprised. Thought you’d be more upset about the whole ‘almost being shot’ thing.”

The teasing edge to his tone didn’t make it any easier to ignore the way your heart picked up its pace. You were keenly aware of how close he stood, of the heat radiating from his body despite the cool air. You could feel his presence pressing against you, and your mind refused to focus on anything but him.

“Well, I wasn’t shot,” you retorted, meeting his gaze at last. The challenge in your voice was as much for yourself as it was for him. “So I guess that’s something.”

A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes darkening with a glint of mischief. “You know, I’m starting to think you enjoy the danger.”

Your throat went dry, and despite yourself, you laughed—short and sharp. “I don’t enjoy it. But I’m not exactly afraid of it either.”

“You should be,” he said softly, his tone turning serious for a brief moment. He leaned in, almost imperceptibly, and for a heartbeat, there was no room between you—just the quiet hum of tension that surged between you both. You could smell the faint trace of gunpowder on his skin, mixed with the ever-present scent of cologne. The proximity felt dangerous, yet the magnetic pull of him was impossible to ignore.

He was so close now that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it made your body react in ways you couldn’t control. Every inch of you screamed to pull away, to maintain the distance that was keeping everything in check. But something about Chan—about the way he looked at you, about the small glint of vulnerability you saw beneath the hard exterior—made you question everything.

“What’s the point of being afraid?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Fear doesn’t keep anyone safe. It just holds you back.”

Chan’s gaze flickered to your lips, and the air between you thickened, charged with an unspoken understanding. His mouth was dry, and you could see the flicker of something deeper in his eyes—a hunger, a tension that was as magnetic as it was dangerous.

Then, as if aware of how close you’d both come to crossing a line, he leaned back, the space between you widening, though the tension didn’t dissipate.

“Fair enough,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than it had been before. He cleared his throat. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not risky.”

You swallowed hard, looking away, trying to regain some semblance of control. But his presence, his words, had shaken you. And deep down, you knew something had shifted. You couldn’t tell if it was the aftermath of the crisis, the adrenaline, or the way he seemed to see right through you—but the boundary had shifted. The walls you’d carefully built were beginning to crumble.

Chan took a step back, his eyes lingering on you just a little too long. “You’re not who you seem to be,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re more than just a pawn in all this.”

You felt a pang of something you didn’t quite recognize, but it wasn’t anger. It was… something else. A quiet understanding. It made your chest tighten, and for the first time, you realized how little control you had over what was happening between the two of you.

And as he turned and walked away, leaving you with the storm of your own thoughts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this—whatever it was—wasn’t over. It hadn’t even begun.

The news kept coming—each report more damning than the last. Your father’s empire was crumbling in real-time. Chan’s plans were progressing faster than anyone had expected. Supply lines were breaking, alliances were splintering, and the internal resistance within Victor’s ranks was growing stronger. It was all coming apart, just like Chan had predicted.

Victor, however, was far from giving up. His fight wasn’t over. He was tightening his grip, bringing in every last resource to hold onto the empire he’d built, despite the cracks beginning to show. You could almost hear his rage echo through the chaotic reports flooding in. He would not go down without a fight.

Chan leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on the screen showing a live map of Victor’s remaining strongholds. “We’ve hit a critical point. The network’s destabilized, but he’s not finished yet. He’ll try to regroup. It’s only a matter of time before he pushes back.”

You stood by the window, looking out at the darkening sky. You could feel the weight of your father’s empire bearing down on you, like a dying beast desperate to survive. It was hard to shake the feeling that you were witnessing the end of everything you knew—everything you had once thought was untouchable.

“I thought… I thought this would be easier,” you muttered, your fingers brushing the edge of the window frame.

Chan’s voice was calm but firm as he spoke, his presence cutting through the tension. “It never is. But we’ve only just started, Y/N. The hardest part is coming.”

You turned toward him, meeting his gaze. There was no doubt in his eyes, no hesitation. He was certain—he always had been. But you felt the weight of your own doubts pressing in on you, as if you were standing at the edge of something vast and unknown.

“The hardest part,” you repeated, almost to yourself, “and you still want me to help you finish it?”

Chan stepped closer, his expression softening just a touch. “I’m not asking you to destroy everything you’ve known. I’m asking you to help me end what’s already falling apart. Help me tear down the structures that are keeping Victor in power.”

You took a deep breath. “And then what?”

His eyes darkened slightly, and for the briefest moment, something almost vulnerable flickered across his face. “Then we rebuild. But that’s for later. For now, we focus on making sure he doesn’t have the chance to come back. Once he’s gone, the pieces will be there for the taking.”

You felt a pang in your chest. “And I’m supposed to just… step into that? To take everything my father built and use it for your vision?”

“You’ve seen the cracks in Victor’s empire long before I came along,” Chan said, his voice quiet but unwavering. “You know it can’t survive in its current form. His obsession with control—his refusal to trust anyone—has already weakened it from the inside out. All I’m doing is speeding up the inevitable.”

You hesitated, the reality of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. “And when it’s all over? What happens then?”

Chan’s gaze was steady, a mix of determination and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Then you take control. You become the one to rebuild. But only after we’ve brought him down. After we’ve made sure he can never hurt anyone again.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The idea—your idea—of taking control felt like a distant possibility, something you weren’t quite ready to admit. But even now, the pieces were falling into place. You weren’t just helping him destroy your father’s empire. You were preparing for something bigger, something that made your stomach twist in both fear and anticipation.

“You’re asking me to step into my father’s shoes,” you said, the weight of the truth sinking in. “You want me to take everything he built—and do what with it?”

“I’m not asking you to become him,” Chan said, his voice gentle now. “I’m asking you to become someone better. Someone who can rebuild it all into something that actually works.”

The silence stretched between you, thick with the weight of your choice. You wanted to resist him, wanted to reject the path he was offering. But deep down, you knew he was right. You’d already seen the cracks in your father’s empire—the cracks that were now yawning wide.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can watch it all burn and not feel like I’m betraying everything I’ve ever known.”

Chan’s expression softened just enough to show the faintest trace of understanding. “It won’t be easy. But it’s the only way forward. And you don’t have to do it alone.”

You let out a slow breath, the truth of it settling deep in your chest. The path ahead was unclear, but for the first time, you weren’t just fighting for survival. You were fighting for something more—something bigger. Maybe even something better.

“You’re asking me to betray my father,” you said, the words heavier than they had ever felt.

Chan nodded. “I’m asking you to save what’s left of him—and make sure no one else falls into the same traps he set.”

A deep silence filled the room, the weight of the decision hanging between you. You had made your choice. It wasn’t about loyalty anymore. It was about the future. And for the first time, you could see that future—not just as a shadow of destruction, but as something you could shape.

“I’ll help you,” you said, your voice firm, though a part of you still felt the tremor of doubt. “I’ll help you bring him down.”

Chan’s eyes flashed with something you hadn’t expected: approval. “We’re getting closer, Y/N. This is only the beginning.”

You looked up at him, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension. The future you had once fought so hard to hold on to was slipping away, and with it, everything you had known. But now, you saw something else in its place—a chance to shape something new.

You couldn’t help but wonder if, in the end, you’d be able to rebuild it all with him. But for now, there was no turning back. You were already too far in.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght

[shuggymaniac]

Someone pointed out to this picture saying that Shanks and Buggy already know where the “One Piece” is since they were there when the route was figured out…

Which made me wonder why did they already go after if they were there… and of course with this song stuck in my head lately…

I thought of a new story idea!!!

—-

In the day of Roger’s execution, after Buggy ran away from Shanks instead of standing still Shanks ran after Buggy and did his best to convince him why they shouldn’t go after the “One Piece” just yet, which eventually Buggy agrees because deep down he doesn’t want to be alone without Shanks.

So they have this discussion on what they should do next, during that time they find out that the marines released the wanted posters for what’s left of the Roger’s pirates and Buggy was not of one of them but Shanks was.

With a heavy heart they come to the conclusion that Buggy needs to stay hidden because if Shanks sailed into the sea his bounty would be higher than those new pirates, and also because Buggy is way better navigator than Shanks. He could redraw the map for the “One Piece” with his eyes closed if he wanted to.

After securing ways to keep in contact without fear of the marines, they go on their separate ways. They talk every few months, giving each other updates of how found new friends and crewmate for their future crew.

Shanks’s crew already knew about Buggy and Shanks still being in contact and all, and they swore to secrecy. Buggy on the other hand took a different approach. The bluenette had trust issues so he already told a hand full of his crew about him and Shanks, adding to it his plan on staying low key so the marines won’t notice them, that they have to commit pity crimes so that they would be seen as just regular small pirates.

Cabaji, Mohji and Richie know and agreed to play along, pretending that they were just some cowardice pirates who follow their captain blindly. When Alvida and Mr.3 join they don’t know anything because Buggy didn’t trust them yet and with how Mr.3 reacted when Buggy got beat up by Mihawk and Crocodile assured him that he made the right choice on not telling them.

And they continue making this acts of Buggy hating him whenever they are seen in Public so that don’t discover them.

In their private lives, Shanks and Buggy already courted one another and confessed their feelings. At some point they meet up in an unknown island just so they can hold a small wedding for them, with their most trust crew mates as witnesses.

When Shanks lost his hand Buggy rushed to him alone so he can nurse him back to health, which the red hair would never say because it would upset Buggy but it was his best days since his it was the longest time his husband stayed with him.

When Buggy met Luffy in orange island he fought Shanks and yelled at him about how his “Special boy” caused him to be stranded at sea without most of his body parts.

When Buggy told Shanks that he will borrow money from crocodile, Shanks tried to talk him out of it, because Buggy already has enough money from selling weapons in the black market in an anonymous name, and that Shanks can give him if he wants more. But Buggy disagrees convincing him that it was a good plan to make not only marines but other pirates to think that he was just a small fry pirate.

At some point Buggy and Shanks needed some high secret documents from the marines, so Buggy orchestrated an act to get captured and sent there so he can steal those documents, because getting out of “impel down” was easier than getting in.

I think I can milk this idea if I rewatch one piece again, I just need to remember Buggy and Shanks’s episodes.

[cherriko-art]

I haven't even started Leah's romance route yet but I've already got their entire relationship and dynamic mapped out in my head.

Rambling into the void, but my female farmer OC, Mili, is basically a female himbo. I'd like to think that she doesn't really get all the passive aggressive jabs Leah makes to the farmer in the beginning of the game, and it makes Leah feel kinda bad abt it later on. As they grow more familiar with each other, I'd believe Mili's tenacious attitude eventually wears down Leah's defensive walls and she starts to grow fond of Mili and her lil' antics (much to Leah's own horror).

And since Mili is kinda airheaded but kind, she's easy to take advantage of, even if others don't exactly have any ill intentions. This would start to annoy Leah as she sees Mili running around helping everyone and their dog around town, and she starts to get kinda overprotective of Mili, and chastises her for never being able to say no to anyone (both farmer siblings are like this tbh). I kinda headcanon that Leah hates Scott bc 1. She's lowkey jealous that Mili and Scott hang out a lot in the mines (but she can't bring herself to go to there herself, its gross and dirty and also there's no reception) but mainly bc 2. She thinks Scott is absolutely full of shit with his museum that exists purely due to all the donations Mili makes to it, but he essentially takes all the credit for. Mili disagrees, but regardless, Leah and Scott don't get along.

After they start dating, Leah becomes an overprotective but proud gf who loves showing Mili off to her followers. The only thing is that she despairs over Mili's lack of fashion sense, esp since Mili's older sibling, Lu-Ran, is perfectly well-dressed themselves. So it becomes her hobby to dress Mili up in cute but practical clothes.

On Mili's end, she's just a simple girl with simple thoughts. Leah is a drop-dead gorgeous gf with a heart of gold (according to Mili, disagreed with by many others). She doesn't really get all the influencer stuff but she's supportive and likes to chat with Leah's followers on livestreams. She doesn't know that Leah's followers have basically formed a Mili Fan Club/Protection Squad.

I also like to think that Leah is a lifestyle influencer and environmental advocate. She donates the money made during livestreams and sponsorships towards environmental research and causes. My headcanon is that she's one of Ling's main sponsor (anonymous of course) for her coral research.

Overall, I'm a big fan of "opposites attract" tropes, so I am obsessed with my OC Mili and seeing how the relationship dynamic with Leah would work out. Mili would help Leah become more emotionally vulnerable and be less rigid, while Leah would be a solid rock in Mili's chaotic life who helps keep her grounded and remind her to take care of herself and not just others. Leah is a bit antisocial though, despite being an influencer, so being together with the social butterfly that Mili is would be quite interesting. With Mili as the bridge, Leah would eventually open up to other villagers too and become friends with Mili's friends too (other than Scott of course). From the get-go, Leah would get along very well with Mili's older sibling (my other farmer OC), Lu-Ran, as they're very down-to-earth, quiet and acceptably-dressed (to Leah's standards).

Anyways, if you actually read my word vomit, thank you for entertaining my 2am brain ramblings.