#iron pipe fittings

[sinoseo]

What are the common challenges in the retrofitting or replacement of durable malleable iron pipe fittings?

The common challenges in the retrofitting or replacement of durable malleable iron pipe fittings include:

Compatibility Issues:

Malleable iron pipe fittings may not be compatible with newer piping materials or connection methods, such as grooved joint systems or plastic pipes.

Replacing malleable iron fittings with incompatible components can lead to installation difficulties and potential system failures.

Dimensional Differences:

Older malleable iron fittings may have different dimensions or threading specifications compared to modern fitting standards.

This can make it challenging to find direct replacement parts or require additional modifications to the piping system.

Accessibility and Space Constraints:

Malleable iron fittings are often installed in tight spaces or congested areas, durable malleable iron pipe fittings making access for replacement or retrofitting difficult.

Limited space around the existing fittings can complicate the installation of new components, requiring careful planning and specialized tools.

Corrosion and Damage:

Malleable iron fittings can be susceptible to corrosion, especially in harsh environments or over extended periods of use.

Corrosion or physical damage to the existing fittings can compromise their structural integrity, making them more challenging to remove and replace.

System Disruption:

Replacing or retrofitting malleable iron fittings often requires shutting down the affected portion of the piping system, which can disrupt operations, production, or service delivery.

Minimizing system downtime and ensuring a smooth transition to the new fittings is a critical consideration.

Regulatory Compliance:

In some cases, the use of malleable iron fittings may be restricted or discouraged due to safety or environmental regulations.

Retrofitting or replacement projects may need to address these regulatory requirements, which can add complexity and cost.

To overcome these challenges, careful planning, coordination with subject matter experts, and the use of specialized tools and techniques may be necessary. Thorough site assessments, detailed design considerations, and effective project management can help ensure a successful retrofitting or replacement of durable malleable iron pipe fittings.

[ductileironaccesscovers]

Ironclad Excellence: Leading Cast Iron Fittings Manufacturers

BIC India, renowned among cast iron fittings manufacturers, crafts premium-quality solutions. Unparalleled durability and precision define their products, setting a standard in the industry.

[healinghyunjin]

Blossom

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader (fem)

Genre: crack, smut, fluff; historical!AU, magic!AU, fuck-or-die(ish)!AU, enemies(ish)-to-lovers!AU, 18+

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, outdated sexual norms/attitudes, public sex.

Author’s Note: After another ~long~ hiatus... I'm back! The premise of this fic is heavily inspired by a super old, now deleted AO3 fic I once read for a now dead fandom (showing my age here for you children lol). I love navigating these forced interaction scenarios - so please let me know your thoughts! Feedback and reblogs are love as always - and I now have a Ko-Fi that I would really appreciate contributions to as well (linked in my Bio)! Thank you for your support~

Summary: But what this ritual required of you, the High Sorceress, was not just some spellwork or incantations - no, this ritual involved you losing your virginity. To your King - to Seungmin. On the High Table. In front of the entirety of the royal court. 

You were sure you looked like a thundercloud - dark skirts swirling, white sparks crackling from your fingertips - as you stalked through the castle towards the royal chambers.

“Milady!” Changbin chased after you, your long-suffering knight trying his best to head you off. “His Majesty is in a council meeting right now,” he huffed out. “Maybe we can seek an audience another time?”

“I don’t ‘seek audiences’ from His Majesty, Bin,” the title grating in your mouth. “I talk to Kim Seungmin when I want to talk to Kim Seungmin - especially when he wants to pretend like I don’t exist.” 

You were laying it on a bit thick. But you were the High Sorceress. You had no insignificant amount of pride yourself, and nothing made your temper flare like Seungmin outmaneuvering you - exactly like he’d just done. 

You arrived at the heavy wrought iron doors of Seungmin’s private chambers and, with a swish of your palm, sent the doors flying open, almost rattling off their hinges. A tableful of lords turned around to gawk at you - but you only had eyes for the man at the head of the table. He leaned back in his chair, watching you stalk into the room with a barely concealed grin. “And there she is.” The faint note of humor in Seungmin’s voice made you want to wring his neck.

“Your Majesty,” you greeted in the frostiest voice you could muster up. 

Seungmin smirked. “You only use my proper title when you’re fit to rip my throat out, Lady Sorceress.” 

You ignored the barb. “We have an urgent matter to discuss, my lord.”

One of the old, stodgy lords piped up in a reedy, disapproving voice. “What can take precedence over matters of council and state, Sorceress?”

“Matters of national security, Lord Park.” Seungmin rose to his feet, making everyone else jump up to theirs as well. “Council is adjourned, my lords.”

You held your head high as the councilmen streamed out of the room around you, some barely bothering to disguise their resentment. Seungmin sauntered his way around the table, coming to stand right in front of you. You scowled as you inevitably had to tilt your head back just to look into his amused face. 

“You’ve been avoiding me, my witch.” 

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you snapped back, cringing at how petulant you sounded even to your own ears. 

Of course you’d been avoiding him. Ever since he’d slapped those scrolls down on your worktable a week ago now, you hadn’t been able to think about him without flushing, let alone be in the same room as him. It would be for the good of the people, he’d announced crisply, looking so tall and prim and regal as he towered over you sitting on your little garden stool. I’m sure you won’t see any harm in it. You’d scanned through the parchment, ignoring the scribe’s careful translations to parse the ancient runes yourself. It outlined an ancient magical ritual to replenish the barrier wards for your nation if they ever fell - which they had. But what this ritual required of you, the High Sorceress, was not just some spellwork or incantations - no, this ritual involved you losing your virginity. To your King - to Seungmin. On the High Table. In front of the entirety of the royal court. 

Seungmin snapped you out of your thoughts with a brief “Ahem,” quirking a skeptical eyebrow at you. “I haven’t seen you in a week. Every time I’ve gone to your rooms since the day I gave you those scrolls, you’re conveniently ‘not there,’ and that poor fool,” he flicked a thumb over to point at Changbin, “is stuck trying - and failing - to make excuses for you.”

You shot a glare over at Changbin - he didn’t look sufficiently embarrassed of himself, but you would deal with that later. “Well, I’m here now, my lord. And I’d appreciate it if you could tell me how you unilaterally decided to add ‘Publicly Deflowering the High Witch’ to your agenda for this evening?”

You’d hoped to embarrass Seungmin, browbeat him - like you’d clearly done to Changbin, judging from the choking sound that came from next to you. But you’d underestimated your enemy. 

Seungmin sighed, clasping his arms behind his back. “Because we don’t have a choice in the matter, my dear witch. If you’d allowed me the chance to actually talk to you this week, I could have convinced you of that, and you'd have had time to prepare yourself. But - you didn’t, and so, I had to force your hand.” You shuffled uncomfortably under his piercing stare as he continued. “I know you translated the runes yourself - you know just as well as I do that this ritual needs to be done soon. Now, if we don’t want the Eastern Army taking advantage and invading us as soon as they muster up the forces. But unlike you, my lady - I don’t have the luxury to pretend like this problem will go away if I ignore it.” 

And that was exactly what you hated most about Kim Seungmin. He was smart and logical to a fault - enough so that he’d trained himself to not let pesky emotions get in the way of doing what needed to be done. You on the other hand… the less said the better on that front. 

Before you could snark something back at him or even just bristle up, Seungmin stepped away from you, rubbing his hands together. “Now that that’s been settled, I’m sure you have no more objections. Anyways, you have a busy afternoon ahead of you, Lady Sorceress. I’ve sent several maids to your chambers to help ready you for this evening - I’m sure you remember how exact the runes were in terms of preparation.” Seungmin wasn’t even bothering to hide his grin as he dismissed you with a wave of his hand, striding out of the room. 

That patronizing bastard. You briefly contemplated throwing a fireball at his laughing back - but being executed for treason wasn’t exactly the way you intended to go out. 

With a deep, soul-weary sigh, you turned on your heel to leave, resigning yourself to your fate. 

Of course, if you knew exactly how the rest of your afternoon was going to be spent, you might just have thrown that fireball at Seungmin and gotten it over with. 

After that useless showdown, Changbin frogmarched you back to your rooms, handing you off to an actually intimidating keeper - Chaeryeong, your personal maid. But, to your even greater chagrin, she wasn’t alone. As promised, an army of maids descended on you, all charged with different vicious tasks - stripping your skin bare and smooth with hot sugar paste; kneading various herbal, floral unguents into your skin before dunking you into cold and hot baths; brushing your hair out until it fairly gleamed in the fading sunlight. By the time you were passed off to Chaeryeong for her final inspection, you almost didn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. 

Chaeryeong clicked her tongue approvingly as she walked around you, tightening the laces on your virginal white chemise. “You finally look presentable, milady.”

You bristled. “Are you saying I usually don’t?”

“Last week I had to pull a twig out of your hair before sending you down to supper. There isn’t a single dress of yours that doesn’t have mudstains, milady, and you think a splash of cold water every morning or two is enough to care for your skin.” Chaeryeong looked scandalized.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I’m glad one of us is satisfied with this situation.”

“You’re not?” 

“Why in the name of the Goddess would I be?”

“Sleeping with a man who’s young, tall, handsome, powerful, wealthy,” Chaeryeong giggled as she counted off each word on her fingers, “isn’t the worst thing in the world, milady.” She flicked you a mischievous glance as she smoothly slid to stand behind you. “Especially when the man in question has a major soft spot for you.”

You scoffed. “Kim Seungmin doesn’t have a soft spot for me, Chae. He can't even be in the same room as me without snarking at me - and I can't remember the last time he actually said anything nice to me.”

Chaeryeong’s fingers stilled in your hair as she stared you down in the mirror. “You really believe that, don’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at her in response. She let out a deep sigh. “For such a brilliant witch… you really can be dense.” She shook her head before reaching over to grab flowers to weave into your hair. “I hope you realize - the one thing standing between him and war is you. Most men - especially a King - would have just tossed you onto that table and had their way with you. And maybe they would have begged your forgiveness and understanding afterwards - maybe, if they were worried about you cursing them into oblivion. No one else would have spent a whole week waiting to try and convince you into doing this willingly.”

You opened your mouth to snap something back in your defense... and realized you had nothing to say. 

“See,” Chaeryeong murmured softly. “Sometimes it feels like you’re… willfully blind to His Majesty’s kindness towards you. He’s always treated you with respect - and made sure you’re treated with respect. I wouldn’t take that for granted, my lady - or ignore what’s behind that mask he puts up all the time.” 

As she put the final touches on your hair, you couldn’t help but reflect on Chaeryeong’s words. You had extraordinary freedom and liberties as the High Sorceress…but no, that wasn’t exactly right. You were given extraordinary freedom and liberties as the High Sorceress - by your King. If it wasn’t for his unwavering support for you - against the Council, against any and all reactionary forces - you wouldn't hold any of the power you did. Sure, he riled you up, jerked you around a bit - and you still hated just how easily he could outwit you. But you were being childish to fixate on that - to lose sight of the forest for the trees. 

“And here’s the final touch.” Chaeryeong sidled up to you with a long scrap of silk in her hands - your blindfold. “You’re not allowed to see His Majesty until the ritual starts.” Her quick fingers made short work of fastening it around your head - and being the jerk that she was, she put it on properly tight, making sure you couldn’t see a thing. “Maybe that’ll teach you to let yourself lean on him for once,” she mused, before pulling you up out of your chair with none too gentle hands. 

Chaeryeong, as always, was right. You were completely unmoored by the loss of your sight, limiting your magical abilities too. You were forced to rely completely, like a baby, on Chaeryeong to guide you through the halls to the oldest wing of the castle - and you only realized that you were in front of Seungmin when the two of you came to a sudden halt, a reverent “Your Majesty” coming from her lips. 

This was it. 

Chaeryeong subtly pulled you down into a curtsy, pinching you in the back to make sure you stayed low as she stepped away from your side. From the sound of her sharp footsteps receding down the hall and the lack of any other noise around you, you presumed she’d left - and you were now alone with your King. 

“You may rise.” Seungmin’s amused drawl sounded from somewhere high above your head. Disoriented by your imposed blindness, you stumbled a little as you stood up - but you were caught by warm hands encircling your arms, steadying you on your feet. “How low the high have fallen, hmm?” Such a tease, you thought. But the gentle tone of his voice, the circles his thumbs were rubbing into your arms… he was helping ground you, to put you more at ease - which only made you feel more guilty. 

“My lord,” you started softly - earning a harsh inhale in surprise from Seungmin. “I… I owe you an apology. My behavior earlier today - for this entire week - has been immature and not fitting for a ranking member of your court. Forgive me for my negligence.” You made to dip into a curtsy again - but Seungmin’s grip on your arms tightened, keeping you from lowering yourself. 

There was a heartbeat of silence before Seungmin responded, his voice more tender than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t know what prompted this… change, but - you don’t need to apologize. I knew we both knew this is what must be done, and I knew we were going to eventually do it - but that doesn’t make it any easier for you. You didn’t want this with me, and I know that.”

Why did that last statement sound a false note in your heart? You ignored it in favor of speaking out. “But I’ve spent the past week shirking my duty. You had to force me back in line.”

“And that is my responsibility as King, my sorceress. No harm done.” You could tell that he was leaning down closer to you, his voice loud and clear in your ear. “And remember - neither this kingdom nor I will ever forget this sacrifice.”

There was an oddly charged moment of silence after that statement - which was abruptly broken by the sensation of the ground suddenly falling away from under you. You gasped as surprisingly sturdy arms lifted you up until you were cradled against a lean, hard chest. “Seungmo!” You squeaked, the childhood nickname slipping past your lips. “S-since when were you strong enough to do this?”

There was a pause - you were positive that Seungmin had rolled his eyes at you. “Just because I don’t have bulging biceps like that bodyguard of yours doesn’t mean that I’m a weakling, witch.” 

“Well, it won’t be good to kick things off with you tripping over your feet carrying me in,” you muttered sulkily. 

You couldn’t hold back a shiver as Seungmin tsked, his warm breath ghosting across the sensitive shell of your ear. “Such disrespect for your king? Bold, given that you’re at my mercy for the next hour.” 

“Next hour? That ego of yours is still clearly giant.”

Seungmin let out a husky laugh. “It’s not the size of my ego you should be worried about right now, sweet.” You thumped a useless fist against his chest - even as your core involuntarily clenched and slickened.

There was a ear-ringingly loud blast of trumpets, followed by the creak of the gates to the ancient hall being pushed open. The murmurs and chatter of the crowd awaiting your arrival fell silent, an almost eerie hush settling in as Seungmin strode into the hall. Even with the enormous fire spluttering away in the ancient hearth, the room was always chilly; gooseflesh pimpled your arms, and you almost automatically burrowed closer into Seungmin’s neck for warmth - at least, that’s what you told yourself. The sharp raps of Seungmin’s footsteps against the flagstones came to a halt, and you were securely sat onto a hard surface - the High Table. Your sacrificial altar, you mused to yourself cynically. 

You jumped a little as you felt gentle fingers clasp your hands, giving you a firm squeeze. Those warm fingertips then ghosted across your cheeks, twining through your hair as they searched for the knot of your blindfold. Your heart was bounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears as Seungmin leaned into you, that familiar, titilatingly musky scent of his flooding your senses as he worked to unravel the tight knot, until the blindfold finally came free. 

You blinked your eyes open to mellow, golden light - and the sight of Seungmin standing over you, watching you carefully with a small, soft smile. The great hall was awash with candlelight, long tapering candles and sticks of smoking perfume burning all around you, throwing the faces of the crowd of onlookers beyond you into shadow - but bathing Seungmin in glorious, warm light. He looked impeccably regal as he stood above you in his smart black leather doublet and swan white shirtsleeves, his royal purple ermine-edged cloak clasped around his throat. His hair was up, brushed off his forehead, and the gold of his royal circlet shone out bright against the ink black of his hair - but the brightest of all were his eyes, warm and deep brown, steady and clear as he - your King, you truly felt down to your bones for the first time - held your gaze. 

Taking a deep breath, you let yourself fall back, the ancient stone of the table icy against your spine. While you couldn’t see any of the spectators surrounding you and Seungmin - the vaulted ceiling of the great hall the only thing in your line of sight - it felt like you could sense their gaze prickling across your skin, weighing you down. But before you could let your mind wander too far, Seungmin was there, leaning over you with those broad, square shoulders, blocking your sight of anything but him. You felt your cheeks flame as his hand came up to cup your face, and  your heart skipped a beat as he pressed a petal soft kiss to your forehead, breathily whispering into your skin. “It will be good, my sweet. Trust me.”

Maybe Chaeryeong was onto something… You searched his eyes, finding so much affection and reassurance beaming back at you that you blinked your own shut - before giving him a brief nod. 

He let his lips drag over to your temple, then down to your cheek, leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake as his lips trailed lower and lower, down your jawline, down your neck - and lower. Your mind reeled, your hands fisting the flimsy material of your gown. This was supposed to be brief and impersonal - you’d even readied a lubrication charm in preparation for the inevitable. But you should have known that Seungmin wouldn’t just do an adequate job like that. You were fighting for your life to stay silent as he added his teeth into the mix, working the thin, sensitive skin of your throat until you felt the sickly sweet pain of a bruise forming. His hand slid down from your cheek so he could softly thumb at the mark - his mark - marring your skin, and when he pressed down just right on the bruise, you whimpered - and watched as his eyes darkened to black. 

From there, he was insatiable. Your hands flew up to his shoulders at the swipe of his tongue against your hardening nipple; they desperately slid to clutch at his hair when he took it whole into his mouth, the wet heat tantalizing even through the cotton of your chemise. He palmed your neglected breast hard, the soft flesh spilling through his fingers. A whine finally tore itself free from your throat, and Seungmin snapped his head up to look at you, lips twisting into a triumphant smirk. “I thought you weren’t going to enjoy this, Lady Sorceress.” His fingers came up to tweak your nipple - hard - as he mouthed carelessly at your other breast, his eyes watching you hungrily as you writhed under his touch. The pleasure carried you away on a hazy cloud of lust, into the dreamland of dangerous possibilities. What would it feel like to have this dumb chemise out of the way, so his fingers and lips could traipse your naked skin? What would it feel like to have the heat of his bare skin pressed up against yours - the weight and friction of his hard chest crushing into your sensitive breasts?

Your attention was yanked back into the land of the living at sudden, discordant noise: gasps and murmurs, you quickly realized, rippling through your audience - for your King was dropping to a knee at your feet, hands sliding with promise up your legs under your chemise. You shot up onto your elbows, staring down at him in horror. “Your Majesty,” you hissed. “This is wanton.”

Seungmin arched an eyebrow. “I’d rather be wanton than have you in pain at my hands.” You felt a traitorous flutter in your chest. “And most importantly - when you have the kingdom’s most powerful woman laid out in front of you... you worship her.” 

Those large, long-fingered hands of his found purchase in the soft skin of your inner thighs, forcing them spread and keeping them spread with that hidden strength of his. He let out a small groan at the sight of your swollen folds, dragging a single, deliberate fingertip down the length of your slit. At the very first touch of his soft lips to your sensitive bundle of nerves, you choked out a moan - and startled as the candles around you all simultaneously popped. From between your legs, Seungmin laughed darkly. “Looks like I won’t need to ask you whether I’ve done a good job,” he said, the sensation of his breath and lips against your core making you squirm with stimulation. His hands slid up to your hips, anchoring you in place as he lapped languidly at your cunt, tongue flicking in and out of your aching entrance, nose rubbing up against your swollen little pearl. 

There was no chance in hell you could stay quiet any more. As a moaning keen spilled forth from your lips, your eyes flicked up to the shadowy figures in the crowd watching you. You’d thought they would be judgmental - critical, gossipy, as people always were in situations like this. Instead… there wasn’t a face you could make out that wasn’t flushed, expression glazed over. Seungmin slid his arms under your legs, yanking you down the table until the base of your spine rested on the very edge of the table, your core putty under his mouth as he supported your weight - and you watched as some woman in the crowd whimpered, biting her lip in response. 

Your head lolled back onto the table, and you started shuddering in Seungmin’s hands. 

“I guess I was wrong about needing an hour.” With a final kiss to your folds, Seungmin rose to his feet, leisurely wiping his mouth on the back of one hand, the other drifting down to the laces of his trousers. “I didn’t anticipate just how thoroughly you would enjoy my attentions, my witch.” Tease. His eyes danced with mirth as you whined in annoyance. You felt the blunt tip of him dragging through your folds, its weight catching deliciously against the tight ring of your entrance. “I’ll start slow,” he murmured, a hand coming up to brace himself above your head. And from the first breach of his length into your walls, you knew you were in trouble. 

“Big,” you gasped out. Seungmin let his free hand run loose over the flesh of your thighs and hips, kneading and caressing and soothing. “Relax for me, sweet - it’ll be easier if you let me in.” His voice was breathy and soft, eyes so warm - daresay loving - as he leaned in over you, covering your body with his. You gave him a small nod, breathing deeply and doing your best to let your body sink into the stone under you. As he carefully, firmly worked the rest of his length into your tight cunt, you couldn’t help but whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the deep, deep stretch of him, your spine arching off the table as your body contorted to accommodate him. “Beautiful,” he murmured, pupils dilated with lust. “Made to take me.” 

And as the sting and discomfort started to morph into the burning, insatiable stretch of pleasure, you were inclined to agree with him. 

“Let me know when I can move, sweet,” he asked, the flat of his hand rubbing soothing circles into your lower belly. “Please,” you rasped out - and the delightedly vicious grin that curled his lips in response only sent another surge of fire through you. Your limbs ached to twine around him, pulling him down into you, imprisoning him between your legs - but you were determined to maintain some public decorum. Seungmin made the decision for you though, salaciously bold as ever as he leaned forward into you, splaying your legs out wide, knees almost to your chest. He tested the waters with a rapid snap of his hips in and out - and the two of you stared at each other with wide eyes at just how deep it all felt in this position. Seungmin’s hips started rocking back and forth, almost as if on their own volition - almost as if they were enchanted - and your hands desperately scrabbled for purchase on the unyielding stone as he started pounding into you. 

Your hips canted up into his, trying to answer his thrusts with your own. And you were clearly doing something right, judging by his drawn out groans. “Mine,” he moaned. As he bore down on you, every thrust ground delicious friction into your bundle of nerves - and Seungmin’s hips were driving into yours at such a punishing pace that you were overwhelmed by stimulation. You were sure the two of you were making an absolute mess, the squelching sounds of him pumping into you only growing louder with every thrust. Just with his lips and nose and tongue, the friction and sensation and pleasure had all already brought you close to the cliff of your peak. You knew it wasn’t going to be much longer now before he dragged you over - but there was something positively strange happening to you. Your pleasure was merely riding the edge of some deeper, powerfully visceral sensation that had you gasping, shivering with every plunging stroke. But Seungmin, your ever-wise, your ever-aware Seungmin, had cottoned onto what was happening to you - and wrapping you tightly up into his arms, he only picked up the pace of his hips. “Let go, sweet,” he eked out. “I’ve got you safe, here - let go, my queen.” And before your mind could even process what he’d just given away, you felt yourself clenching up, eyes squeezing shut and nerves singing in pleasure as you hit your release - the pain of your fingers digging into the broad expanse of his back, the spasms of your tight cunt triggering Seungmin’s release simultaneously, spurts of his hot, thick seed flooding into your core, serving as a balm for your aching walls as he collapsed into your waiting arms. 

Before you could let the waves of pleasure carry away your mind with it, however - your eyes shot open at the gasps and shouts coming from around you. Gold - that was all you could see - a golden bubble encasing you and your King. Seungmin lifted his head up from where it was pillowed on your chest, a look of pure wonder on his face as the two of you watched the bubble slowly float and collapse inwards, coalescing into a glowing yellow orb hovering above all of your heads. The hazy whorls of incense and candle smoke in the air took on a bright golden hue - before it all whooshed outwards in a rapid gust of wind, rattling the windows of the hall as the orb and its golden mist exploded out into the sky . You recognized the magic for what it was - the largest, purest barrier charm you’d ever witnessed. 

You and Seungmin had pulled it off. A giggle of delight squeezed out of your chest, and you let your gaze snap back down to the man resting on his elbows over you. Seungmin was watching you with a small, mysterious smile, panting slightly as he tried to catch his breath. And as you looked back at him… you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, as powerful as if the ground had literally shifted under your feet. An almost unbearable fondness filled your heart as you beheld him - your King, your protector…your lover. 

You had been right about one thing - there would be no going back from this, at least for you. But now you found yourself wondering… why was that such a bad thing?

Ignoring the shuffling footsteps around you as your audience slowly started to disperse, you let your arms wrap around Seungmin, relishing the feeling of his muscles bunching under your touch as he slid his arms in turn around you, helping you to sit upright. His dark eyes were fixed on the place the two of you were joined as he slowly extricated himself from you, the feeling of his sticky seed trickling out from between your legs strange and foreign. That ever intelligent, searching gaze then slowly scanned your body, looking you over head to toe as he tucked himself away in his trousers, before his eyes fluttered shut. Seungmin let out a slow exhale before blinking his eyes open again - and you were startled to see that professional mask of his slide back into place. 

“Up you go,” he murmured, arm sliding around your back as he helped you off the table, supporting you as your legs quailed under your weight. With a few deft pulls, he unfastened his cloak, wrapping it around your shoulders instead. You were thankful for the warmth it provided - and the coverage, you realized, as you noticed the servants hovering at a respectful distance from the two of you. “Give me a second,” Seungmin said before turning away to address his valet and knight-at-arms. 

One of the maids stepped forward, a fan in her hand to put out the few lingering candles. Before you could even hesitate on what to do, she dipped into a low curtsy, bowing her head - to you. “Your Highness,” she breathed out, an almost reverent look on her face as she glanced back up at you. Awkward with the unfamiliar courtesy, you smiled hesitantly, tilting your head at her in acknowledgement. 

How had you misjudged this situation so badly? Part of your hesitation leading up to all of this had been because you’d thought that you’d be made out to be a slag - no better than the King’s kept woman. Why hadn’t you appreciated the power inherent in this? With the spectacular care with which he’d pleasured you, with the demonstration of your magic in front of the whole court, Seungmin had marked you - just as he’d told you with those hungry eyes - out to be the most powerful woman in the kingdom. 

You snapped out of your thoughts to see Seungmin making his way back to stand in front of you. You frowned to see that mask of his still in place, a strange awkwardness in his manner as he addressed you. “I can help you back to your rooms now. Or,” he turned to gesture behind him, “one of the servants can take you if you prefer.”

You arched a critical eyebrow at him. “Could we go to your chambers instead?”

His eyes widened for a second, before you watched understanding wash over his face. “Ah yes, that was careless of me - there’s too many stairs to get back to your chambers. You can rest in mine as long as you need.”

Wrapping an arm loosely around you, he let you lean on him as the two of you walked out of the hall. His rooms weren’t too far away, the royal chambers taking up a significant portion of the ancient wing of the castle. But an awkward silence reigned over the two of you, Seungmin stoically looking straight ahead as you limped along beside him. 

Something had clearly changed in you - because for once, instead of being the reactive fool you normally were, you saw the situation - and his reaction - for what it actually was. Seungmin was taking his turn to be the awkward overthinker - a role he’d grown out of once he’d become King… except when it came to a few specific things he couldn’t stay purely rational about. The things he cared about the most, the things that mattered most deeply… in this case - you. 

You sighed. You’d probably need to gift Chaeryeong a necklace or something after all of this was over. 

You bided your time until Seungmin finally shut the two of you into his chambers. He’d turned away to lock the doors behind him - and startled when he turned back around to find you standing right in front of him. As you stared up at him, watching his lips twitch in discomfort… you came to a shocking realization. 

“You never kissed me,” you breathed out, even more surprised as you said it. He’d kissed you literally everywhere else - but he hadn’t touched your lips. You gazed up at him with wide eyes. “Why?”

Seungmin shifted uncomfortably. “It felt too…intimate.”

What? “You took my virginity - in public. We unleashed a magical force field together,” you deadpanned, trying to get a laugh out of him - and failing, as Seungmin continued to look at you stoically. “I’d say that’s pretty intimate, my lord.”

He shrugged, hugging his arms around him and hesitating for a second - before bluntly, in Seungmin fashion, getting to the heart of the matter. “The reality is that… freely given sacrifice, prophecy, whatever you want to call it - I took something from you that you didn’t mean for me to have.” It was a testament to Seungmin’s poise that his voice stayed even, his eyes stayed steadily on you as he spoke. “I wanted you to have something - a part of you - you could still give away of your own will.” He sagged heavily into the doorframe, finally breaking eye contact as he trailed off. 

Poor baby. Your heart fluttered. “That is… quite thoughtful of you, my lord,” you choked out, taking a small step forward. Then another. And another, inching towards him. “So - that means it’s alright with you for me to do this, right?” Reaching up, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up onto your tiptoes to press your body into his. His hands reflexively grabbed your waist, steadying you even as his eyes widened in surprise - before fluttering shut as you pressed your lips to his. 

His mouth was divine heat - soft, pliable against yours. He gasped as you nipped at his lower lip, and you seized the chance to lick into his mouth, deepening the kiss until your head was whirling, ignorant of where you ended and he began. 

When you finally pulled away for air, his lips chased yours for a second before he caught himself. You giggled, beaming up at him. “How low the high have fallen, hmm?”

Seungmin let out a low warm laugh, such fondness in his eyes that you couldn’t help but shy away. “I have much, much lower to fall still, don’t worry,” he murmured as he bent down over you, his hair falling into his eyes as he smiled. In a single, smooth movement, he flipped the two of you around so he had you pinned up against the wall, his body pressed firmly into yours. 

You cleared your throat. “Y-you really like having me against hard surfaces, don’t you?”

He shrugged, focus elsewhere as his fingers busied themselves with the laces of your chemise. “Seems like it’s the only way to keep you good for me, witch mine.” You whined as his hand accidentally grazed your sore, tender nipple, the sound making his eyes snap back to yours. A dark, wicked smile curled his lips before he crashed his mouth back onto yours, long fingers working your breast deliberately, possessively. You responded with enthusiasm, tangling your own fingers into his silky hair, until the spell was broken - for you at least - by loud noises from outside his chambers. 

You pulled away from his lips with a loud smack. “What’s that?”

“Never mind that,” he rasped out, pulling you in tight against him. “Worry about it later.” Your breath hitched as he nosed his way into your neck, pulling at the loosened neck of your chemise to expose your collarbone for him to feast on. 

Steeling yourself, you pushed your hands firmly against his chest. “Seungmo, I want to worry about it now.” He groaned, rolling his eyes, but let you go without a fight, releasing you from his embrace. Turning on your heel, you tugged him along to his balcony. The sounds had seemed to come from the royal gardens, which were sprawled right below Seungmin’s chambers. Pulling your cloak - his cloak - more tightly around you, you stepped out onto the balcony - and froze, as an astounding sight brought the two of you to a standstill. 

Wherever you looked - below you, around you - every single plant and tree was in abundant bloom. Regardless of season, of age - fruit and flowers were everywhere, swinging in the breeze, littering the ground. You turned to Seungmin in shock - only to see him looking back at you with loving, wondrous awe. “That’s all you,” he murmured, brushing a fond hand against your cheek. “My powerful, mesmerizing sorceress.”

You flushed. “No, it’s not.” You stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s us.” You tiptoed up to press a kiss into his cheek - and promptly hid into Seungmin’s neck as whoops and cheers rang up to you from the gardens below. 

Seungmin laughed, tucking you into his side as he led the two of you back inside. “Well, you know what this means,” he said.

You quirked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

Shooting a dazzling smile your way, he caught you up in his arms once again, the heady sensation already warm and familiar to you - before peremptorily throwing you onto his bed. 

“The fate of the flora of this kingdom is in our hands, Lady Sorceress.” He intoned in a faux serious voice - made only the more ridiculous by the sight of him crawling on all fours towards you on the bed. “We have crucial work to do, milady - and we must start posthaste.”

You threw your head back in laughter before wrapping your limbs around him. “Yes, my lord - let’s start immediately.” 

Fin.

~

[If you made it all the way here... please comment, reblog and give me feedback!! My Ko-Fi is also linked in my blog if you're able to support :)]

[matan4il]

Buddie 610 meta

Holy shit, this ep.

Okay, what shall we start with? Maybe with what 911 itself starts, lots of foreshadowing. At the beach call, we have Eddie looking at Buck and replying to him (about the lightning), “I really hope it doesn’t strike twice, though.” Which, of course we know it will. But the foreshadowing continues, as Buck talks to Omar about unexpected things in life coming out of nowhere. That suggests we need to pay extra attention to other elements in this ep that might act as foreshadowing for later events along 6b. ~~

That kind of connects to me with Buck being closely tied to Ely, the pregnant lady (he saves the day there twice, first by realizing the oil is dripping and if they use the saw, it might prove fatal, then by helping Bobby with the baby). First off, it made me chuckle when we learned that, despite being driven to the hospital by a man, he’s actually not her partner. 911 made sure we knew Ely has a wife, and that she has another kid with her. Is it a coincidence when Buck, who practically has a husband and a kid with him already, is the main firefighter taking care of her? Maybe, but it still amused me. What really made me take note is when he told her not to push, trying to stall her childbirth, and she replied that it doesn’t depend on her. That made me wonder if perhaps this is also in a way foreshadowing what we might end up seeing with the sperm donation storyline. I’m not sure, I can’t be, but I was not surprised to see that storyline brought up later in the ep. ~~

In general, this ep’s title, “In a Flash,” might seem to refer to the lightning storm the team experiences, but the real tempest is the havoc our families can wreak on us, tied to the unexpected nature change can sometimes take on. Chim’s dad suddenly shows up, raining on his parade. Albert suddenly thinks Chim should give their dad a chance to be Jee Yun’s grandpa, but decides against giving his brother a warning. The Buckley parents are suddenly making an effort, yet leaving everyone suspicious and unnerved. Albert suddenly leaks Buck’s sperm donation to everyone and unleashes hell between the in-laws. Denny’s changes, probably influenced by getting in touch with his dad, come as a surprise to Hen. And of course, at the climax of the ep, Bobby as the unofficial adoptive father of Buck might lose his son in a flash. The whole ep is filled with these parallels of abrupt familial disquiet, especially in relation to dads, on all 118 fronts. And as Buck deals with maybe the biggest of these questions, because he doesn’t even yet know what he wants for himself and how does the life he helped create (but only as a donor) fit into that, it’s no wonder his life ends up hanging literally in the balance. ~~

One of the most painful things in this ep for me was seeing how much Buck’s parents are willing to accept him as a donor, because not for a second do they think he can be a father. That would be the natural conclusion from him looking at a sonogram on his phone, but his parents find it easier to believe their daughter is pregnant again than to think Buck would be a dad (ironic, because he already is one. Just not to the baby in the sonogram). It reminded me of how Eddie’s parents also didn’t believe in his ability to be a dad, and actively petitioned to have Chris taken from him to be raised by them in 315. It amazes me every time anew just how much Buddie are compatible, because their stories parallel so much that they can understand each other in ways most other people can’t. ~~

And it gets to me that this whole episode also insists on reminding us how good Buck is with kids, first with the ones on the beach, calming them down and answering their questions to help them make sense of the whole ordeal. Then with Ely’s baby, a callback to how we saw him with the pipe baby in 101. It connects to him looking at the baby sonogram, all excited, once again acting so much like an expectant dad would (parallel to him and the firefighter onesie in 609), when we know he’s not actually going to be that baby’s father. It very much does feel like 911 is signaling to us Buck has some realizations coming his way in this context. ~~

Speaking of the kids on the beach, Buck telling the boy he wants to fix everything, then adding that Buck gets it, had me screaming into my fists, because hey, remember who said that to Buck? That’s right, his Eddie, back in 504. A reminder of how much Eddie sees Buck, accepts him and allows him to be himself, enabling Buck in turn to reflect that back to that kid. Of course, in the context of the sperm donation, Buck’s tendency made him want to help “fix” things for Connor and Kameron, and we might learn in 6b that Buck comes to realize he sometimes lets this tendency take him to places that aren’t actually good for him, without fully considering the consequences, and then hopefully, he’ll get to find a way to balance this, to be himself, but not derailed from his life goals by this part of himself. ~~

At the same time that the ep shows us how good Buck is with kids, it also serves to remind us of the one kid that we’ve seen him co-parent all along, the one who has always demonstrated what a good, loving dad Buck is, Christopher. Yes, when we see Buck working on his cooking with Bobby, it’s a part of the many parallels revolving around dads in this ep, so Buck and Bobby’s r/s is the immediate focus, but at the same time, we know who Buck is learning this FOR. Lazania kitchen scene from 601, anyone? Oh, but the best part? It’s when Buck tells Bobby, “Something’s missing.” He can’t quite put the finger on what, but he knows something in his domesticity isn’t fully there. I wonder what, Buck... And this is again in an ep full of foreshadowing! ~~

It may seem like a minor thing, but remember how in my past meta, I was more or less losing it over the many times Buck and Eddie did rope rescues together as their own team within the 118 team, even having their assigned roles where Eddie connects Buck to the line and then becomes an anchor himself to keep Buck safe, to the point where I wrote a smut fic involving this very meaningful act? Yeah, so imagine me seeing that the most intense Buddie call we’ve had since the end of 413 starts with them doing this subtextually intimate thing, Eddie hooking Buck up to the rope, becoming his literal life line, and even teasingly calling him “cowboy” while at it. No, I was not breathing for a full minute at least. ~~

But since I brought up the shooting in 413, can we talk about the insanity of the parallels? Take the meaningful staring once disaster strikes. Back in s4, it was mutual, right before Eddie collapsed. In 610, Buck is unconscious, so you wouldn’t think they could stare at each other at this moment, right? Plus, back in 413, it was just the two of them present at the scene out of the 118, the other members of the team weren’t there. The lightning strike seems a lot less intimate in comparison... But in this ep, the camera plays a role in recreating that same dynamic, singling out the connection between Buddie. Because when Buck is hit by lightning, we get shots of every 118 member looking up and being terrified of what just happened to their friend.

The only exception in terms of this shot? Eddie. He’s the only one that isn’t being filmed from the side as he looks up, he’s filmed from above as he looks straight into the camera. Essentially, the shot recreates Buck’s POV for Eddie, and for him alone. It shows us what Buck would see and how he would stare down, back at Eddie, if he only could. The fact that the camera has to do this instead of Buck himself further emphasizes the horror of Buck being unconscious, but the choice to do this only with Eddie highlights their connection and makes it clear that Buddie’s bond IS different to what the other team members have with Buck, no matter how close the others are to him or how much they love him. What’s insane is that DESPITE having all of the 118 there, there is still a bubble within this whole situation that is Buddie and Buddie’s alone, even as Buck himself is unconscious. It’s no wonder Eddie jumps up that electrocuted ladder without even thinking about it, it’s no wonder no one even tries to stop him or warn him of the danger in that. That is a man on a mission to save the other half of him, and the show tells us that in more than one way.

That’s gonna continue through Eddie’s attempts (and eventual success) in getting Buck away from immediate danger, as well as when the team tries but then fails to revive Buck, because Eddie will be the one to push past Bobby to see Buck, and Eddie will be the one Bobby has to keep in line by assigning him driving duty, maybe the most important thing anyone can do for Buck once all the medical assistance they can give him in the field is of no further use. ~~

One more thing regarding the comparison with the shooting arc in s4, as well as talking about camera shots, is that we get to see the difference between a platonic friend resuscitating his teammate and a man desperately trying to keep the love of his life alive. If you look at Chim doing compressions on Buck, he’s giving it his all, because he DOES love Buck, Chim’s doing his best for his friend and brother in law. But the shot is not an intimate one, we don’t get close ups, we don’t get to focus on the eyes and see the frantic look of a man who knows he CAN’T fail, we don’t see the intimate touch of a hand laying a gauze on an exposed chest and trying to keep this treasured body together, we do get “come on, Buck,” but we don’t get personal speech, begging the other man to hold on and just “stay with me.” While back in 414, in the ambulance, we had ALL of those as Buck, almost on the verge of losing his sanity, fought for Eddie’s life. ~~

Lastly, I’ve made in the past a gifset of times when we’ve seen Buck screaming Eddie’s name in horror at the face of danger (including in 413), and I love that we can finally add to that Eddie doing the same thing for Buck. But I think it’s particularly meaningful that it happened not as a matter of when Buck would be in danger, but rather it was a question of just how significant Buck had to become to Eddie for this former, highly decorated soldier to go from the stoic man he was in 218 to what we see in 610 (as seen in my latest weekly gifset). Because Eddie WAS incredibly worried back in the s2 finale. He was gritting his teeth, you can see the tension on his face, and the second it was safe, he sprang to Buck’s side. Eddie also held on to him while everyone else was lifting the truck (even though Chim, as a medic, would have been a more natural choice to hold on to Buck, while Eddie the firefighter helps lift engine 118). And Eddie wouldn’t even let go of Buck’s hand on the way to the truck. HE WAS DISTRAUGHT. But the man who kept his facade up in the hospital after Shannon, his wife and mother of his son, died just one ep earlier, did the same thing with Buck. What I find so telling is that he can no longer do that by 610. Buck has become such an integral part of his life, of his family, of who Eddie is as a person and how he deals with life, way more than even Shannon managed to be. And that’s why Eddie loses it, confirming what we’ve known for a while: Buddie are life partners. ~~

I now have direct links to my weekly meta posts, my Buddie gifs and more of my content in my pinned post. Loads of love to @whosoldherout​​ for making unbelievable gifs for my very unique requests. You’re a star! Tag list will follow in the reblog. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m operating on 1.5 hours of sleep to get this posted ASAP, so I really appreciate any and all encouragement to keep doing this. xoxox

[ghostbite0]

How did everyone else find out about the baby situation? Did the blood demon art (...I'm assuming that's what it was; on second thought I can't remember if you specifically said that's what happened) take a while to set in and they were already back at HQ, or did the kakushi find them and bring them back?

Also what were the other hashira's initial reactions?

thats still to be determined-- i have yet to really iron that part out. i was thinking the three had JUST returned from their mission when the blood demon art took effect

Alternatively, the three are hit with the blood demon art, and Sanemi and Giyuu's crows go to get help. Since Gyomei is closeby, he is the first to find the three. After reeling over these three tiny babies, he takes them back to the headquarters, where they inevitably face the rest of the Hashira!

what were their reactions...? great question!

Hashira Reactions:

Shinobu: she couldn't help but giggle at their situation, but she quickly looked them over and ensured they were healthy physically. after they found some fitting clothes, she began to endlessly tease the boys-- particularly Giyuu, because, of course, she would tease Giyuu. she kept joking about how cute they were and how they should leave them like that, which was followed by Sanemi trying to throw something at her but failing miserably. Giyuu reluctantly lets her hold him, and then it turns into Giyuu not letting anyone aside from his closest friend, except for Gyomei. Gyomei's wonderful. Rengoku, too.

Tengen: similarly, Tengen cracked up. at first he was more confused and taken aback than anything, but once he knew for certain they were okay, he began joking around alongside Shinobu. he vocally brainstormed what kind of outfits to put them in, resulting in all three babies shrieking/whining at him. he claims Sanemi right off the bat and learns the baby is super ticklish. He spends a good chunk of the interaction tickling the little guy whenever Sanemi gets frustrated or angry. at one point, Sanemi pulled on his hair, so he tickled Sanemi nonstop until the baby could babble strings of reluctant apologies

Gyomei: he's really conflicted due to his backstory revolving young children, but his caregiver instincts take over, and he fawns over them. being the one to find the babies, he's the first to hold and comfort them, so of course, being as paternal as he is, he gets attached. once he took them back to the other Hashira and explained the situation, Shinobu began checking their vitals and what not, and he would continuously pipe up to ask how they were. this was soon followed by him bringing up how they needed to get the babies fed and taken care of-- which, again, had all three in distress/embarrassed

Rengoku: His big brother instincts go CRAZY. Similar to Gyomei, he automatically begins fussing over them and asking a lot of questions to make sure they're alright—though Rengoku asks the babies directly: "Are you okay?" "How old are you?" "Which demon did this to you?" "Are you hungry?" "What kind of food do you guys eat?" "Or are you still nursing?"... that sort of thing!

Muichiro: oh he thinks the situation is hilarious. he's completely monotone and stoic during the first encounter, but the second he's with the three babies, he's teasing them. he talks to the babies as normal and will just calmly ask, "Do you need a nap?" and says things like, "You're fussing an awful lot. Maybe you need a bottle."

he's basically a little shit. however, he does ease up later when he realizes Obanai, in particular, is having a really hard time, and his soft spot for him becomes evident. Obanai always looked out for him, so he wants to look out for Obanai! he becomes his main target in the teasing but is also obviously Muichiro's favorite. Muichiro will ruthlessly tease Sanemi, though. he thinks its funny

Mitsuri: she was in TEARS the second she saw the babies, and Tengen had to hold her back from rushing over and scooping them up. she thinks they're adorable and is already scheming with Tengen on how to dress them up, and what to buy them, and what not! once she was given the okay, she darted over and fussed over the three like they were actual babies-- only to be mortified when she was informed they all maintained their memories. she was flustered for a while, but once Obanai began to get really distressed, she jumped back into action. she would end up cradling him and kissing his little head until he calmed down, and of course, everyone just gave them knowing stares. Obanai was very embarrassed. Mitsuri interpreted this as Obanai getting fussy again, so she just returned to snuggling him.

feel free to ask more questions or send in hcs and what not! i love this au oh so very much...

[rowanix-cos]

Trucy Wright and Mr Hat ~ Ace Attorney

Finally got round to editing some pics that were taken way back in March (oops). Trucy is such a favourite of mine, as is Mr Hat, and they were such a joy to cosplay (though I did keep spooking people at con who thought Mr Hat was a real person hovering over my shoulder 🙃)

I made pretty much everything myself, and I am so proud of it all! (Details below the cut, feel free to skip)

Mr Hat is made from 2 cylinders of eva foam with PVC piping (plus lots of nuts and bolts) for support. And that's not editing! There is nothing supporting him from underneath, and he is hands-free to carry around; he is attached to me at the waist via 2 belts that thread through openings I made in the side seams of my dress. All the wood detailing was engraved in with a dremel before he was painted, and I drafted patterns to sew up his cape and shirt. Similarly, his hat is also made from eva foam and covered with the same fabric I used for the cape. The hat fits me too, just only when I have my Trucy wig on or else it's much too big :') His head is also on a hinge so his mouth can open and close. He's basically a big puppet!

Some notes: There are magnets in the hat and gloves to hold his hand in place as well as magnets in his jaw to hold his head close but unfortunately I didnt use strong enough magnets and my lovely Apollo (pictured) had to keep fixing him. His head also started drooping towards the end of the day (this is why I always test my cosplays before entering any competitions!) and I'm struggling to think of a better way to stablise it - if anyone has any tips, please let me know!

In any case, I am so so proud of him! Now onto Trucy...

I've cosplayed Trucy before, but I updated her a bit to go with Mr Hat. I sewed up a new cape (used the old one to make Mr Hat's) and used some glittery iron-on vinyl for the patterns on the diamonds, and added bells so I jingle when I move around!

The dress I found in a charity shop but it initally was a lot longer and much too big for me, so I took it in and up and added the adjustable side-openings + padding on the inside to hide the bumps the belts would make. I made the buttons + the earring from Polymer clay, and the broach with a polymer clay encasing and a resin jewel (which i had to make a mold for. They don't sell em that big)

The bag I also found but sewed fabric over the top to make it look more like Trucy's + added the belt. The neckscarf and Mr Hat's bowtie I completely winged. I stuffed them both plus part of the globes to give everything that cartoonish shape.

I think that's everything. Let me know if you have any questions!

[runariya]

Three-Shot: Infinity (JJK) • 1

pairing: alien!Jungkook x human!reader genre: alien!AU, dystopian!AU, dark, angst, S2L rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, captivity, MC's cell is the filthiest place in existence, physical harm, MC is a test object, prostitution against will, drugging, death of mentioned friend/family, suicide attempts, pulling of fingernails and toenails, failed escapes, gore, angst, panic attacks, malnutrition, please lmk if I forgot something word count: 3.287

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

MASTERLIST • 02 • 03

Year 3709

You wake to the familiar sound of dripping water, the rhythmic tap of soiled liquid against the stone floor counting the seconds, minutes, hours of your endless captivity. The air around you suffocating with the stench of mildew and decay, continuously reminding you of the cell’s dampness. Your breath forms clouds of mist in the freezing air, visible even in the low light seeping through the narrow slit high in the wall, the only connection to the world outside your prison.

Your cell, a narrow rectangle of concrete and iron, is barely wide enough for you to stretch out both your arms without brushing the icy walls. The rough stone floor is slick with gooey moisture, perpetually wet, seeping through your thin, tattered clothing and chilling your bones for days on end. The ceiling, low enough that you can touch it when you stand on your tiptoes, is a mosaic of black mold and peeling paint—something you learned from the time you resisted being pulled from your cell.

In one corner, a rusted metal bucket serves as your latrine, its putrid stench a constant assault on your senses. The bucket overflows frequently, its contents sloshing onto the floor to mingle with the ever-present puddles. Opposite, a single iron cot is bolted to the wall and the mattress lying on it, is a threadbare remnant of its former self, its stuffing long gone, leaving only a few stubborn springs that dig into your flesh each night. The scratchy, coarse blanket provides little warmth against the biting cold, and you often wake shivering, your teeth and limbs chattering uncontrollably.

The days here are indistinguishable from the nights, a ceaseless parade of darkness day in and day out. The only light comes from the slit in the wall, which is sometimes covered by a thick, opaque sheet to plunge you into total blackness if they see fit. You have learned to hate this darkness, for it brings with it the scuttling of unseen vermin and the oppressive weight of isolation. When the sheet is removed, a sickly, green light filters in, casting eerie shadows that dance across the walls, transforming your cell into a landscape of nightmares you can't escape.

There’s silence surrounding you if it weren’t for the endless dripping. Not even a sound from neighbouring captives is heard. You weren’t always alone. Jenny, once your cellmate, the only other human you had ever seen. She was your friend. Your only family, a fragile connection that scared off the isolation you now have to embrace to stay sane. Despite your efforts to protect each other, one day they took her away. That day, she didn’t return like she always did. Like you always did when they took you. That day, she was gone. And without her, you were alone. 

Your lungs feel heavy today, and each breathe is a struggle, a fight against the encroaching dampness that seeks to claim you. Your captors care little for your comfort or health; they provide just enough to keep you alive, a thin gruel that tastes of ashes and despair, and a trickle of water from a rusty pipe that runs along one wall.

The pipe is the only constant source of noise, gurgling and hissing as if it were alive, mocking you with its endless, meaningless chatter. The water that drips from it is icy cold, and you often have to cup your hands and drink quickly before the chill numbs your bony fingers. Your captors use the pipe to deliver their torturous messages, their disembodied voices echoing through the metal, words distorted and sinister. Only there to mock you. They speak in a language you barely understand, a guttural, alien tongue that makes you want to vomit. 

Kaldreks, you’ve learned. The most vile species known in all galaxies. Towering, gaunt figures with pale, frostbitten skin and luminescent green eyes that pierce through the darkness. Their elongated limbs, webbed for navigating their swampy world, end in razor-sharp claws, also used to inflict the worst wounds you had the honour to experience. 

Jagged, icy exoskeletons cover their bodies, providing both armour and a terrifying appearance. Sharp, serrated teeth protrude from their snarling mouths, perfect for rending flesh. 

Your body bears the marks of their cruelty. Scars crisscross your skin, each one a relict to their unspeakable experiments and tortures. Your muscles are weak from malnutrition and disuse, your bones aching with a dull, constant pain. Each movement is an effort, showing off your frailty and their power. They come for you at irregular intervals, dragging you from your cell to a sterile, white room where the cold is even more intense, biting into your barely covered flesh like thousand needles.

It was at the beginning of your captivity when they started to probe and prod, their instruments of metal and glass invading your body, extracting fluids, inserting needles. You and Jenny were a specimen to them, a curiosity to be studied and dissected. Their faces never hidden behind masks, their eyes devoid of any empathy or recognition of your suffering. They spoke in low murmurs, their voices blending with the hum of their machinery, discussing your fate as if you were dead meat and nothing more.

Your fate arrived sooner than you expected, knocking you over at full force. When they tired of using your body as a test subject, they found other purposes for it. Purposes specialised into the pleasures of other species. 

At first, they seized you and scrubbed you clean with freezing water. Standing naked and chained from the celling, they prepared you with various oils with their webbed claws, as cold as the water, coating your skin. You learned quickly that their touch on your pussy wasn't the worst. No, the worst came after they finished their preparations.

Over time, you were used by all sorts of species in the galaxy. Fucked until your holes bled. Bitten and scratched until you passed out from blood loss. Drugged to be fucked again. Woken only to be violated once more. Choked until you thought you had finally died, only to wake with a dick bigger than your thigh being shoved into your mouth, or worse. 

Even though the Kaldreks subjected you to unspeakable horrors and other species weren't far behind, it is the Nepturians who instil the deepest fear. Their human-like appearance, marked only by bioluminescent markings on their arms and spine, along with their imposing height, makes all the nightmares seem like a fairytale. You learned that Nepturians are typically monogamous, bonding for life. Yet, with their females dying for unknown reasons, the surviving males become the coldest of lovers. Their human resemblance haunts you, affecting you more than the others ever could.

You tried to escape more than once, but each attempt ended in failure, teaching you what the Kaldreks were truly capable of. The treatment worsened over time, more often you were used by Nepturians, yet the routine remains the same, spiralling into infinite torture you’re not able to escape. 

You tried to take your own life more than once, believing it was the only control you had left. You used your fingernails, attempting to pierce your arteries, succeeding briefly. But the Kaldreks' senses were too sharp, 'saving' you before you could fully succeed. After the second attempt, they pulled out your nails with tongs. For good measure, they did the same to your toenails. 

Each time, you are returned to your cell broken, barely conscious, your mind fogging with pain and exhaustion. The cot is a cruel joke, offering no comfort, only a hard surface to collapse upon. Sleep is your only escape, but it is fitful, plagued by nightmares of their touches, of endless moments and cold, inhuman eyes that somehow look human. You wake often, drenched in sweat despite the cold, your heart racing as if trying to escape your chest.

Time has lost all meaning. Days, months, years blend into one another, a seamless continuum of suffering and despair. You have no knowledge of the outside world, no hope of rescue. The Earth as you once knew it only a distant memory, a ghost of a dream long forgotten. The planet has been transformed into a barren, hostile wasteland, and you are its last surviving inhabitant, a relict of a forgotten age and species.

You cling to fragments of memories, half-remembered stories of a blue sky and warm sun, of green fields and the sound of laughter. These memories your only solace, a fragile thread of happiness in a world devoid of light. You wonder if you will ever see the sun again, feel its warmth on your skin, breathe air that is not tainted with misery.

But, your captors are meticulous in their cruelty. They keep you alive, but only just. The silver and pink scars cluttering your body proof enough. You are a tool, a means to an end, a living plaything. They are relentless, their personal gain insatiable, their methods devoid of mercy. You have learned to endure, to survive in the face of unimaginable hardship. Each day a battle, a struggle to cling to the remnants of your humanity in a world determined to strip it away.

Yet, somewhere deep within you, the light remains. A flicker of defiance, a refusal to be broken. You are the last human, the final witness to a world that once was. You hold on to this, clinging to the knowledge that as long as you live, there is still a sliver of hope. The Earth may be dead, but you are not. Not yet.

As the muffled voices echo through the pipes, you strain to discern their words. Hints of a plan for tomorrow seep through, reminding you once again of the relentless cycle that bound you. You know you need to escape now; the uncertainty of time on this planet makes it impossible to know when daylight would bring more torment. The Kaldreks are cruel, but the possibility of freedom flicks in the depths of your mind.

In the dim confines of your cell, you take a moment to assess your surroundings, willing the fog clouding your mind to go away if only for some seconds. Your last attempt to escape through the metal bars had failed, rendering that route impossible now. The chains that hold you are worn but sturdy. The glimmer of moonlight through a narrow vent suggest a weakness—a potential path to freedom, you were too scared to use before. You have watched their routines long enough to understand when they were most distracted. Tonight, you would act.

With caution, you manoeuvre your body, testing the chains for any sign of give. Each movement forcing to be as calculated as possible, the cold metal biting into your skin only moves sporadically and as quietly as possible to not alert the Kaldreks. Their voices fade, replaced by the rhythmic sound of your heart pounding in your chest and ears. Time is slipping away, and you have to move immediately. 

You again focus on the vent, its edges slightly corroded. The Kaldreks had grown complacent, and you use that to your advantage. With a surge of adrenaline, you twist and pull at the chains, feeling them loosen just enough to allow your wrists to slip free. The pain is agonising, but you welcome it; the burn a needed confirmation that you are still alive, despite losing more weight to slip through the chains. 

Quietly, you approach the vent, each step as careful as possible against the wet floor. Your fingers brush against the cold metal, feeling the contours of the cold opening. It is a tight fit, but desperation fuels your determination and you pull yourself up, squeeze through, the sharp edges grazing your skin, but you push on, driven by the hope of escape.

The passageway is dark, the air even more damp and musty than in your cell. As you crawl, the sounds of the Kaldreks fade completely, replaced by the distant noise of the wild outside. You navigate the narrow tunnel, each twist and turn feeling like an eternity, until you finally emerge into the open air.

Outside, the wild of the Kaldreks’ planet, Morthak, sprawls before you, a labyrinth of dense foliage and shadowy figures. The three moons bath everything in an eerie green glow, illuminating your path into a better life. You take a moment to catch your breath, savoring the taste of freedom mingled with the cold of the night.

Behind you, the sounds of Kaldrek chatter is gone, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the calls of nocturnal creatures. With your heart racing, you plunge into the underbrush, the foliage thick and tangled but a welcome barrier between you and your captors.

As you try to run, you feel the weight of the past begin to lift off your chest. Each step carries you further from the horrors of captivity, and with every heartbeat, the fear begins to wane. Tears start rolling down your cheeks with every step, sobs sporadically escaping your parched throat. The wilderness, though just as deadly for you as a prey species, is a refuge compared to the cold confines of your cell.

The terrain is uneven, but you navigate it somehow unharmed. Shadows dance around you as the night deepens, the sounds of nature becoming a chorus of freedom rather than threat. You feel the cool breeze on your skin, igniting a spark of hope within you.

Eventually, exhaustion claws at your limbs, your vision too blurred from tears, but you push through, knowing safety lay just beyond the next thicket. You stumble through the undergrowth, the moonlights guiding you like a compass. Finally, you reach a small clearing, the weight of your journey settling heavily upon you.

In that moment, you collapse to the ground, the cool earth contrasting with the heat of your racing heart. You roll against the soil, desperately rubbing your body to mask your scent as much as possible. The wilderness envelopes you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to breathe deeply. You are free, at least for now, hidden in the wild, away from the claws of the Kaldreks.

As you lie there, surrounded by the sounds of nature, the gravity of your escape begins to sink in. You have taken a step toward freedom, and though the journey ahead remains uncertain, the wild holds the promise of survival.

You wake again in a white room, lying on a bed with a thin, soft blanket covering you up to your torso. Your skin tingles with the sensation of cleanliness, the dirt you covered yourself with gone, and you notice you’re dressed in an oversized black shirt. The unfamiliar garment feels alien against your skin. Though you’ve never worn black nor such garment before and the white room looks different from your previous cell, a chilling certainty grips you—you’re back with the Kaldreks. The realisation crashes like a wave of dread through your body, making your sore and tired muscles tense in fright. 

Panic sets in right after. Heart racing, you breaths come in rapid, shallow gasps, and it feels as though the walls are closing in around you. You scramble off the bed, blanket thrown off you, your heart pounds in your ears like a war drum. Desperation fuels your movements as you search the room for an escape, every nerve ending on high alert. Your hands claw at the smooth, featureless walls, finding no purchase. The air grows thin, and your vision starts to blur at the edges as hyperventilation takes hold. You stumble, your legs barely able to support your weight, driven by sheer terror.

Every corner of the room mocks your frantic attempts to flee. Your fingers trail over the seamless joinery, seeking a hidden exit, but finding none. The sterile whiteness amplifies your panic, memories flashing one by one before your eyes, each failed effort to find an exit compounding your fear. The room spins as you struggle to draw breath, your chest heaving with the effort. Sweat beads on your forehead, trickling down to sting your eyes. Your mind races, a chaotic flurry of thoughts, each more desperate than the last. You press your ear to the walls, hoping to hear something, anything, that might indicate a way out, but there is only silence.

Suddenly, the only door in the room hisses open with a hydraulic huff, and a Nepturian steps inside. Your worst nightmare manifests before you, making your heart stop immediately. He towers over you by more than half a meter, his features disturbingly human. His skin shimmers with a pale blue hue, his black doe eyes feigning innocence. But you know better than to trust them. His hair, a deep vibrant blue, is buzzed at the sides, the top long enough to partially fall over. He’s dressed in a similar black shirt, though on him it fits tightly, emphasising his dangerous physique. Each step he takes, his combat boots fall heavily onto the floor, his face void of emotion. The weight of his presence presses down on you, suffocating in its intensity.

You notice his markings—they look different from those of other Nepturians—different patterns and colour. Stress clouds your mind, preventing you from discerning whether this difference bodes well or ill for you. The bioluminescent patterns seem to pulse with a life of their own, casting faint glows that dance across the room’s sterile surfaces. You try to recall any fragment of knowledge that might explain these markings, but your thoughts are too scattered. The disparity in his appearance lastly only heightens your fear, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty.

You scramble away from him, your body trembling, adrenaline surging through your veins even more. Your breathing remains shallow, and you sense the impending collapse into unconsciousness. Each movement feels sluggish, as if you’re wading through thick, suffocating air. Your mind screams for you to run, but your body betrays you, locked in a state of primal terror. The room feels smaller, the walls collapsing as the Nepturian advances, his expression unreadable.

“Sit down,” he commands, his voice the softest you’ve heard from his kind. But you’re not surprised by his authoritative words, the courtesies of humanity foreign to other species. His words cut through the haze of your panic, grounding you in the reality of the moment. Yet, the command feels like another layer of your imprisonment, a reminder of the control he wields over you and the things that are going to happen to you. Still, you hesitate, weighing your options, the urge to flee warring with the need to survive.

After all, survival courses through you. You assess the possibility of darting past him to escape. But as you glance into the corridor beyond the door, you realise you’re not with the Kaldreks as you feared—you’re on a spaceship. The sleek, metallic walls and the hum of advanced technology signal a different captor. The realisation confirms your doom, multiplied by the presence of the Nepturian. The corridor stretches out, seemingly endless, but each step you might take towards it feels like a step deeper into your personal hell.

Your eyes snap back to the Nepturian as he repeats, more impatiently, “Sit down.” Seeing no other option, and hoping unconsciousness will soon claim you, you comply. As you lower yourself to the bed, he stands before you and, in that same soft voice you first heard him speak, says, “I won’t hurt you.” His words fail to soothe you; you remain terrified, too traumatised to trust anyone, especially a Nepturian. The tension in your muscles barely eases, your mind vigilant and ready to react at the slightest hint of danger.

MASTERLIST • 02 • 03

a/n 2: thank you so much for reading! lmk what you think - also: tag list, drabble requests and character asks are open

All Rights Reserved © @/runariya 2024

[sinoseo]

How do the overall costs of using plain malleable iron fittings compare to malleable cast iron pipe fittings?

The overall costs of using plain malleable iron fittings compared to malleable cast iron pipe fittings can vary, but generally, the following cost considerations apply:

Material Cost:

Plain malleable iron fittings are typically less expensive than malleable cast iron pipe fittings.

The manufacturing process for plain malleable iron fittings is generally simpler, requiring less specialized equipment and materials.

Installation Costs:

Plain malleable iron fittings are often easier and faster to install, as they may require less specialized tools or equipment.

Malleable cast iron pipe fittings may require more specialized installation techniques, such as welding or threaded connections, malleable cast iron pipe fittings which can increase labor costs.

Maintenance and Replacement Costs:

Plain malleable iron fittings may have a shorter overall lifespan compared to malleable cast iron pipe fittings, especially in harsher environments or high-stress applications.

This can result in more frequent replacement of plain malleable iron fittings, leading to higher long-term maintenance and replacement costs.

System Reliability:

Malleable cast iron pipe fittings are generally more robust and durable, with higher pressure and temperature ratings.

This increased reliability can lead to fewer system failures and associated costs, such as downtime, repairs, and potential property damage.

Corrosion Resistance:

Malleable cast iron pipe fittings may have better corrosion resistance properties, depending on the specific materials and coatings used.

In corrosive environments, the longer lifespan and reduced maintenance needs of malleable cast iron fittings can offset their higher initial cost.

Overall, the choice between plain malleable iron fittings and malleable cast iron pipe fittings will depend on the specific application, environmental conditions, performance requirements, and the balance between initial cost and long-term lifecycle costs. In some cases, the higher upfront cost of malleable cast iron pipe fittings may be justified by their improved durability, reliability, and reduced maintenance needs over the life of the piping system.

It's important to carefully evaluate the project requirements, consult with industry experts, and perform a detailed cost-benefit analysis to determine the most appropriate and cost-effective fitting choice for a specific application.

[ductileironaccesscovers]

Ironclad Excellence: Leading the Industry as Cast Iron Pipe Manufacturers

Elevate your plumbing with BIC India, distinguished cast iron pipe manufacturers. Our high-quality pipes redefine durability, ensuring robust and lasting solutions for diverse industrial and residential needs.

[moo-blogging]

Hello! How are you? I have a request, if that's okay, thug/underground Levi trying to find a ring to propose to reader, when he does reader accepts but gives him a huge secret she's been hiding from him (like she has royal blood or something, idk 😅)

HAVE A GOOD,AMAZING AND BEAUTIFUL DAY! - 🎵🍍

Who would have thought that the infamous Levi would be looking everywhere to get a ring? An engagement ring to be exact. He never realised that there were hardly any jewelry sold in the Underground.

He even resolved to ask the prostitutes where they got their jewelries. Mostly were given by rich merchants from the surface and others traded from other prostitutes. "Tch!" He said as he chewed his lower lips, thinking about a solution.

it was about 2 years ago that Levi met you. You were wearing close to nothing, sitting by a leaky pipe, cleaning yourself up. You had cut your hair yourself, but hurt your left ear in the process. Blood was oozing from the wound.

"You'll get an infection if you use the water," Levi's cold voice echoed through the quiet alley. Instantly, you grabbed the pair of rusty scissors you stole to defend yourself. You stared into Levi's eyes, predicting his actions but all you could see was a guy with silverish blue eyes.

He dropped a bag of medication on the floor, along with his vest. He walked away, keeping a distance so you could retrieve it. he stood by the entrance of the alley, watching out for you. It took you sometime to move toward the package. You found a bottle of pungent disinfectant and bandage and you wrapped your wound clumsily. You slid into his vest and to your surprise, it fitted.

You were ready to give yourself to him, just like most of the guys you met in your life. Instead, he took you home and introduced you to Farlan and Isabelle.

Levi knew he could get any girl he wanted because the girls basically threw themselves at him. But with you, he was uncertain. You introduced him into the tea business. You could differentiate the tea by grades just by smelling and looking at the colours. And you had taught him how to brew the perfect tea. Levi fell in love with you slowly. The nights you spent brewing tea together, moving boxes containing tea leave during late night storms, and keeping watch of premium tea leaves before its delivery.

On the night when you were lost between tall boxes of tea leaves, Levi kissed you in the shadows. Your shoulders raised in surprised and your eyes widened. But Levi had his eyes shut tightly as he pressed into your lips. You exhaled after holding your breath, and when you inhaled, you took him into your lungs and you calmed down. Gently, you closed your eyes and leaned in, kissing him back. You had fallen for him on the first day you met. A gentleman who rescued you.

After making a deal with the blacksmith, Levi harvested mineral stones using his gears and had him made into a ring. Levi was awestruck when he collected the ring. It was an iron ring dotted with different colours of mineral stones. The handiwork was not perfect, but it was perfect for you.

That night, Levi proposed to you privately in the bedroom. He didn't want to cause any unwanted attention. You eyes lit up and you said yes. With shaky hands, Levi slid the ring into your finger. You hugged and kissed each other passionately.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get you a nicer ring," Levi brushed your hair off your forehead. You shook your head and looked at the ring again.

"I have seen a lot of shiny things, but none was mine." You looked at Levi lovingly, "You gave me my first jewelry."

And you told him where you came from. You were the child of an Asian mother and the prince. Someone presented your mother, who was kidnapped, to the prince. Months later, your mother was pregnant and sent away to a tea farm, where you were born and raised. It wasn't until the kidnappers found out that your mother was alive and had you, you wouldn't had known you had royal blood. Your mother died trying to save you, but you were brought to the Underground, awaiting for your new fate.

When the time was right, you escaped. You threw away your clothes as you ran and stole a pair of scissors. And the rest was history.

Levi was stunned as you talked about your childhood. You thought he would get mad at you. But Levi pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

"Don't you ever worry now, y/n," he kissed the side of your head, "now give me names and I will make some friends soon."

[veritas-scribblings]

ration - @jegulus-microfic - words: 957

The bar thrums. James can feel the beat of the base in the floor beneath him, in the glass of warming beer he holds in his hand. Sirius, being the freak he is, has chosen some immensely depressing Pink Floyd songs as the theme for the night because, he says, it fits his ‘vibe’.

James has thought about sneaking some Taylor Swift onto the playlist, but he reckons Sirius might actually kill him for it and James fancies being alive for the moment, because he has too much to accomplish. He’s a man on a mission.

James has rented out the lower-level—the basement, Sirius calls it—for Sirius’s birthday. It’s a very hipster kind of scene: rusted piping overhead, reclaimed timber benches, rough brick walls. Sirius loves it for the irony, he says, but James doesn’t think there’s much ironic about it. 

Not with the old-fashioned punk-rock style Sirius has going on and the messy man-bun.

‘You’re here!’ James whisper-shouts over Pink Floyd’s High Hopes. 

Regulus turns around. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, ever so slight that James knows he could be mistaken. But James will take it anyway; he’ll take it all, every last crumb.

‘I’m here,’ Regulus says. Brushing his hair from his eyes, he glances around disdainfully. He doesn’t fancy crowds, James knows, and he won’t stay long. It’s just an appearance, most likely because Sirius had buttered him up enough that he has now decided to put the effort in.

‘Quite the event you’ve thrown,’ Regulus says. 

James shrugs. ‘You know Sirius. Loves to be the centre of attention.’

‘I thought that was you, but I guess you’re two of a kind. Life of the party, circle of worshipers, boy glory, fall at your feet kind.’

James chuckles. Regulus isn’t wrong, he supposes. But Regulus doesn’t fall at his feet, won’t even deign to look at James half the time. But still, James is gone. Gone, because Regulus is beautiful, smart and witty, and James is the one worshiping at the feet of his glory. Regulus is mean and prickly, soft and gentle, and James is here for all of it.

‘Buy you a drink?’ James blurts out. He’s had enough liquid courage that it’s loosened his tongue ever so slightly. He hopes that it’s loosened his tongue enough for him to eventually ask Regulus to dance.

Regulus raises an eyebrow and eyes the glass of beer that James is still holding.

The beer that is warm.

Warm with rumination. Warm with vacillation. Warm with the lonely pity-party James had been throwing for himself while he pondered whether or not Regulus would walk his way, speak to him, smile at him, dance with him…

‘It’s warm anyway,’ James shrugs. Places the glass down. ‘So, can I buy you a drink?’

Regulus laughs, barely audible over the music. A quiet, beautiful sound. What a beautiful, beautiful sound. James wishes that Regulus would do it again. And again. That Regulus may never stop finding joy in the world.

Even though Regulus had likely been laughing at him. James will be his joy, be what makes Regulus laugh…

‘Buy me a drink?’ Regulus repeats. ‘Why? Do you have an ulterior motive, Potter?’ He says this in a low, almost husky voice. ‘Hoping to get me loose?’

‘What?’ James flushes in alarm, knows that the warmth flooding him isn’t from the beers he’d been drinking. ‘What, no! I—no, no, I swear. It’s a party and you…drink…at a party?' he finishes lamely.

Regulus, James realises, is laughing at him. That beautiful, beautiful sound that is his laugh. ‘I’m teasing Potter,’ he says wryly. ‘Yes, you can buy me a drink. Two, in fact.’

James grins and beckons Regulus over to the bar, where he buys a beer for himself and two whiskeys for Regulus (because, of course, the posh bastard drinks fancy whiskey). 

But then Regulus takes the drinks, grins at James, and the son of a bitch departs. Just departs with only a ‘thank you’. A lingering look, like he’s asking James to watch him walk away. And yes, the back of Regulus is as wonderful as the front of Regulus. He’ll take every and any form of Regulus, but…

‘What?’ James breathes, speechless, flushed again. Not from the beer. This time, not even from embarrassment and horror, but from pure utter confusion and shock.

There’s a laugh, a bark that is audible over the beat of the music. So different from Regulus’s beautiful laugh. ‘He’s Regulus.’ Sirius slaps James on the shoulder in commiseration. ‘If you offer to buy him a drink, you’ll need to specify that he…you know, stay and drink it with you.’

‘What?’ James just repeats. ‘What do you mean I have to specify?’ 

Sirius roars with laughter, dropping himself down onto the bar stool next to James who is now staring despondently down into his glass. Of course Sirius is enjoying his suffering. What are friends for?

‘He’s playing hard to get, mate.’ He rubs circles comfortingly on James’s back, though he’s still laughing like this is the best thing that he’s seen and heard in a while. ‘Going to make you really work for it.’

For a moment, James hates that Sirius had managed to drag it out of him, that James is utterly gone for his little brother. Because, for some reason, Sirius just loves the idea. Not necessarily the idea of James and Regulus potentially (hopefully) together, but the idea that Regulus is going to go out of his way to make James’s pursuit of him the most drawn out and stressful endeavour of James’s short, short life.

But will James stop? No. Because James is an idiot. An idiot gone.

[thefisherqueen]

I was wondering about what the bathroom and toilet situation would likely have been like when Sherlock Holmes and dr Watson moved into Baker Street in 1881 (for fanfic reasons, obviously). An in-house bathroom and toilet have long been luxuries. My own parents have stories of not having a bathroom yet at home when they were young, and both grew up in the '60 in the Netherlands. They either had an iron tub filled or went to a public bathhouse, and the toilet was located in the garden. Both of them grew up working class, however. I imagine that Holmes and Watson's combined income would have made them middle class, so the Baker Street rooms would perhaps have been more luxurious.

Doyle thought it probably not appropriate or relevant to really directly discuss it in the stories, but there have been a few mentions of the possibility of taking a bath at Baker Street in the stories, for example when Holmes asks Watson why he would prefer to go to the Turkish bath over taking a bath at home in The illustrious client. I found this interesting article that discusses the likely bathroom situation at Baker Street!

"After 1870, a system of constant water supply began to be introduced to London, although it took over 20 years and a huge amount of pipe retrofitting to bring the “constant” to all of London. The West Middlesex Water Company supplied water to the Northwest section of London, including Marylebone (and thus Baker Street).  By 1891, 43 percent of the houses supplied by this company were on constant.  The change to the constant system involved the water company reworking its water main system under the street to each house and it required each homeowner to redo almost all of the piping system inside the house. The constant water system involved a much higher pressure of water, which the older pipers connected to a cistern could not handle. New fittings and faucets were also required inside the home when the conversion was made.

Thus, by the time that Holmes and Watson rented their rooms on Baker Street from Mrs. Hudson in January 1881, they almost surely had access to piped, running water and to a water closet in the building. More than likely, a room had been converted to a bathroom by the time they rented, but the “constant” water supply was probably introduced to Baker Street later during their tenancy.  The Canon suggests there was a bathroom on the second floor of 221B.  The precise location of the water closet(s) is not known."

Also, look at this victorian contraption! A hip-bath it was called. It just looks so funny

[dreamscapesofimagination]

I'll Say I Was Overthinking

A/N: Part 2 of the Alan drabble!

Summary: Being involved with anomalies was not conducive to peaceful dates, a fact that Alan laments when you are injured on his watch.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, cursing, body horror, fluff, Alan beating himself up as usual, kiss to shut someone up.

—------------

It had taken a couple weeks to get the R&R permit approved- and Alan had insisted that your first date not be on campus.

Maybe he was going overboard, but dinner and a movie off campus (and therefore away from a certain meddlesome vice-captain) was a must.

You weren’t complaining.

He had picked you up from your dorm, and you had nearly tripped over your feet at the sight of him in a nice button up and slacks- two things you were not sure he even owned (he didn’t- Tohma had insisted upon providing clothes once Kurosagi has let the date slip.)

He had complimented you, cheeks pink as he scratched the back of his neck.

Your dress was simple, nothing over the top, but you loved its fit and from his expression you could tell Alan had too.

Dinner had gone well, Alan slowly becoming more comfortable as the night went on- and you’d be lying if you said his smile didn’t make your heart flutter.

That's what crossed your mind when you both had rounded a corner, only to be faced with this.

Mottled flesh, an entirely too human face- too many teeth and a too wide smile.

You froze- heart pounding. You had ended up ahead of Alan as you chattered away about your excitement for the movie he had planned.

Far enough ahead that he was helpless as the anomaly smacked you aside.

“No!” his shout was futile as he watched your body hit the alley wall and crumple.

You lay there wheezing, brain slowly processing the scene.

Snippets.

Alan’s pipe appearing in his hand.

The anomaly making its way toward you.

Alan launching in front of you, blocking your body.

A horrible, mocking laugh.

Your vision swam, and as shock wore off you began to feel the deep pain in your body from where you had hit the wall, and you were faintly aware of the taste of blood and bile in your throat.

Alan was fighting it- but seemed to be doing little damage.

Groaning, you staggered to your feet, leaning over as you emptied the contents of your stomach.

Lurching forward, you gripped Alan's arm.

His eyes shot to you, “what are you doing?”

“Your stigma-” you coughed, wincing as a bolt of pain lanced your head, -”use it”

His eyes glanced over you, frowning in concern at your state.

“You can hardly stand!”

“And if I don’t help you we are both going to die! Stop arguing with me and just hit the fucking thing!” you snapped, gripping his arm harder to stabilize yourself.

The laughing anomaly lurched toward you both, interrupting his chance to argue further.

Alan adjusted his grip on the pipe, fixing the anomaly with a harsh glare.

He raised the pipe, bringing it down as the anomaly lunged, and you watched the creature's head give way beneath the iron.

It fell to the ground, and the resulting tremble caused you to stagger.

Alan caught you, shouting your name as your vision faded.

~~~•••~~~•••~~~

Quiet voices were the first thing you registered- along with the sterile smell.

Mortkranken’s infirmary.

“Like I said, you need to let someone examine you. She is stable- the last thing she needs right now is you collapsing because you had an injury and didn’t let us treat you. Taking more attention off of her than is necessary would be foolish, Mido.”

“I’m fine, regardless, I’m a ghoul. If something was wrong it’d be pretty damn clear.”

You cracked your eyes, wincing at the glare.

Alan swam into focus, glaring at Jiro, whose face was impassive.

Jiro’s arms were crossed, and the bags under his eyes were more defined than normal.

“Ghouls can still die, Mido.” Jiro left with that scathing retort before his eyes landed on you.

“You’re awake.” Alan’s head snapped around, and he quickly rushed forward.

“You okay?” his eyes were wild with concern.

You cracked a small smile, “I’ve been better.”

“Ah-hem.” You looked past Alan, and met Jiro’s gaze.

“Please let Jiro look you over?” you asked, bringing a hand up to grasp Alan’s for a moment.

His cheeks flushed at the contact.

“Can I do my job?” You giggled at Jiro’s mildly irritated tone.

“Go. I’ll be okay.”

Alan hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Jiro led him out from the curtained off “room” you were in.

You laid there, taking in the sounds of machines and the smell of alcohol.

You shifted, sitting up with a groan as you searched for water, throat scratchy.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Alan sounded panicked when he came back in to see you moving.

“I need some water.” you said, voice hoarse.

“I brought some,” Jiro entered behind Alan, carrying a cup.

He handed it to you, all but rolling his eyes at the Vagastrom captain.

“Your boyfriend is fine, from what the very limited exam he let me do showed.”

You could practically hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Is she going to be fine?” Alan snapped.

You sipped your water, relishing how soothing it was.

Jiro fixed Alan with a tired glare before directing his statement toward you, “You have a broken rib, concussion, and some nasty contusions, and hitting the wall dislocated your shoulder. I got the shoulder back in place, and your chest is wrapped to prevent your rib from moving too much. It will be awhile before you can function at your full capacity- even with the anomalous medicine we have.”

He cracked a small smile, “if you need anything, just call. You can go back to your dorm as long as you have someone who can keep an eye on you. And I will be coming by in the mornings to check on you.”

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” Alan said quickly, carefully grasping your hand.

Jiro looked at him for a moment before nodding.

Fifteen minutes later, you were slowly staggering back to your dorm.

Alan’s arm was wrapped around you, and a bag of medical supplies was on his shoulder.

Silence passed between you- and you weren’t too disappointed due to the dull throb with every step and breath. You didn’t think you could manage words very well.

At your door, Alan froze.

You looked up at him, seeing the set of his jaw.

“Alan, what’s wrong?”

You watched a muscle feather.

“I shouldn’t be the one doing this.”

You frowned, turning to fully face him.

“What do you mean? If you don’t want to, that's fine, I can call Jiro and go back to the infirmary.”

Shaking his head, Alan said, “it’s my fault you got hurt. If I had been faster, more aware, then you would be okay. I’ll just make things worse.”

He avoided your eyes.

“This was a bad idea, it would be best for you to go to the infirmary so I don’t get you ki-”

A surprised grunt left him as you yanked him down by the collar and pressed your lips to his.

After a moment, the stiffness left Alan’s body, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you like you were porcelain as he finally reciprocated the kiss.

They broke away, and she was sure the flush on Alan’s face matched her own as he blinked owlishly at her.

“What- what was that for?” he stammered.

You giggled at his shell-shocked expression.

“Alan, I kissed you because I like you,” you cradled his cheek with your good hand, “I would not kiss you if I thought you got me hurt. Now will you please accept that it's not your fault so we can go inside and shower?”

His eyes widened even farther, “Like?”

You tilted your head before realizing what he meant.

“No! Not together- as incredibly attractive as I find you I think sex would kill me right now,” Alan stood straight, face and neck bright red.

Laughing, you said, “I will probably need your help though- if that’s okay?”

Alan cleared his throat, “I said I would take care of you, and I will.”

You blinked at the seriousness in his voice.

Alan was nothing if not committed, and you knew that if he was around you would be taken care of.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

Currently outside of a bar in Oklahoma. Sam is sitting on the bonnet of the Impala reading the news paper. The title, "Local Death a Medical Mystery". Whilst Y/N is on the car next to him, smoking a cigarette. Dean exits the bar laughing, holding up a wad of cash having just won it from hustling pool.

Sam and Y/N look over, Sam shakes his head and says "You know, we could get day jobs once in a while" He suggests. "Huntings our day job. And the pay is crap" Y/N snorts, taking a drag from her cigarette. "You're preaching to the choir girl but hustling pool? Credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world guys" Sam says disapprovingly.

"Well, let's see" Dean starts, putting up his hands out to weigh the options. "Honest....fun and easy. It's no contest" He says sarcastically and Sam rolls his eyes chuckling. "Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do" Dean says. "Yeah, well, how we were raised was jacked" Y/N says ironically chuckling, dusting the ash from her bud on the ground.

"Right on man" Sam agrees, putting his hand up for a high-five, which she returns. "Yeah, says you two" Dean mutters counting the money, "We got a new gig or what?" Dean asks his brother. "Maybe" He says getting up from the impala and walks around to show Dean the papers as Y/N flicks her now burnt out cigarette to the side as Sam explains.

"Oasis Plains, Oklahoma. Not too far from here. A gas company employee. Dustin Burwash supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob." Sam says. "Huh?" Dean asks confused. "Human mad cow disease" Y/N indicates, getting up from the Impala herself and dusting her hands off.

"Mad cow...wasn't that in Oprah?" Dean asks. "You watch Oprah?" Sam asks him surprised and Dean looks down guiltily while Y/N laughs. "You get a car....and you get a car!" She exclaims, pointing to the air. "Everybody gets a carrr!" Sam adds, belting out in laughter as Dean grumbles embarrassed.

A grin slowly overtook his face when he looked at Y/N bubbling in a fit of laughter. Even if it was at him, she still looked damn cute smiling. "So this guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?" He goes back to the topic and they sober up from their laughing.

"Really though. Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years for the damage to appear. So how would it be our thing?" Y/N says, wiping some tears out of her eyes from her laughing. "This guy Dustin, sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less" Sam says.

"Okay, that's weird" Dean agrees and Y/N nods. "Yeah. Now it could be a disease. Or it could be something much nastier." Sam says. "Alright. Oklahoma!" Dean exclaims enthusiastically, going to the side of baby. "Man. Work work work. No time to spend my money" Dean says jokingly as he jumps in, while Sam and Y/N file in behind.

________________________________

Now outside of the Oklahoma Gas & Powell Co., the trio get out of Impala and approach a man. "Travis Weaver?" Sam asks the man. "Yeah, that's right" Travis confirms. "Are you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty?" Y/N asks sweetly. "Dustin never mentioned any nieces or nephews" Travis says suspiciously.

"This is actually my girlfriend" Dean pipes up, wrapping his arm around Y/N's shoulder, putting her closer. She cocks her eyebrows at him confused and he gives her a look that says 'follow my lead'. She smiles nodding, wrapping her arm around his side while Sam looks at the two of them with a slight smirk on his face.

"Well he sure mentioned you. He said you were the greatest" Y/N casually lies. "Oh, he did?" Travis smiles brightly. "Listen, we wanted to ask you, what exactly happened out there?" Dean asks. "I'm not sure. He fell in a sinkhole. I went to the truck to get some rope..and uh...by time I got back...." Travis explains, trailing off.

"What'd you see?" Y/N asks calmly. "Nothing. Just Dustin" Travis sighs, shaking his head. "No wounds or anything?" Sam asks. "Well, he was bleeding from his eyes and his ears, his nose. That's it" Travis says, partially disgusted. "So you think it could be this whole mad cow thing?" Dean asks.

"I don't know. That's what the doctors are saying" Travis shrugs. "But if it was, he would've acted strange beforehand like dementia, loss of motor control. You ever notice anything like that?" Sam asks and Travis shakes his head.

"Nah. No way. But then again if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?" He questions. "That's a good question" Dean says. "Can you tell us where this happened?" Y/N asks. "Yeah" Travis says and gives them the location.

________________________________

Sometime later they drive through the newly developing neighborhood, Oasis Plains Estates, where Dustin Burwash died mysteriously. Pulling up infront of the house where he fell in the sinkhole, they exit and walk towards it.

"Huh, what do you guys think?" Dean asks them as they approach the scene, the sink hole surrounded by caution tape. "I don't know, but if Travis was right, it happened pretty damn fast" Sam says as they dunk under the tape to get a closer look.

"So, what, some sort of creature chewed on his brain?" Dean asks, flashing his light into the whole and Y/N shakes her head. "No, there'd be an entry wound. Sounds like this thing worked from the inside" She states and they all stoop, peering at the hole which isn't too wide. "Looks like there's only room for one" Dean says, turning his light off and dunking back under the tape, away from the hole.

"You guys wanna flip a coin?" Dean asks, grabbing a rope to anchor them. "Dean, we have no idea what's down there" Sam says, looking over at him. "Alright, I'll go if you two are scared" Dean says. "Scared?" He adds teasingly and Y/N rolls her eyes. "Flip the damn coin" Sam says and Dean chuckles.

"Alright, call it in the air, chickens" Dean says and Sam catches the coin midair. "I'm going." Sam says determined. "I said I'd go" Dean says with a slight smirk on his face. "Oh for the love of god. I'll go!" She huffs, tired of their bickering. She grabs the rope and ties it around her waist. "You sure?" Dean asks concerned. "I'll be fine. Just don't drop me" She warns him. "Wouldn't dream of it" Dean smiles.

________________________________

After searching the sinkhole, Y/N found some dead beetles in the hole. Her and Sam are examining them while Dean drives. "So you found some beetles. In a hole in the ground. That's shocking, y/n/n" Dean says dryly, sarcasm dripping from his tone and she rolls her eyes. "She said there were no tunnels, no tracks. No evidence of any other kind of creature down there" Sam defends.

"You know, some beetles do eat meat. Usually it's dead meat but-" She explains but Dean cuts her off. "How many did you find down there?" He asks. "Ten" She answers. "It'd take a whole lot more than that to eat out some dudes brain" Dean says. "Well maybe there were more" Sam suggests.

"I don't know. Sounds like a stretch to me" Dean denies. "Well, we need more information on the area, the neighborhood. Whether something like this has ever happened before.." Y/N says and they notice Dean looking at a house decorated with balloons and a sign outside. "What?" Sam and Y/N ask in unison.

"I know a good place to start. I'm kinda hungry for a little barbecue, how bout you guys?" Dean says suggestively while Sam and Y/N look at him disapprovingly. "What? We can't talk to the locals?" Dean says feigning innocence. "And the free foods got nothing to do with it?" Y/N says dryly.

"Course not. I'm a professional" Dean denies failing to convince them. "Right" Sam remarks in the same tone as Y/N, flashing Dean his classic bitchface. "Ah whatever. I could eat" Y/N leans back as Dean pulls into an empty parking space in-front of the house hosting the barbecue.

"Atta girl" He smirks at her through the rearview mirror. Not missing the little blush overtaking her cheeks that she's trying to hide by looking out the window. Y/N bites her lips to stop the heat from rising in her face, hating the fact that a simple praise like that from Dean could make her heat up like a baked potato.

He smiles at her before they all exit the vehicle and walk up towards the house. Her heart jumps everytime he says that and she can't pinpoint why. Dean takes in the surroundings, feeling a bit uneasy. "Growing up in a place like this would freak me out" Dean says. "Why?" Y/N asks confused.

"The manicured lawns. 'How was your day, honey?'. I'd blow my brains out" Dean exaggerates. "There's nothing wrong with normal" Sam defends. "I'd take our families over normal anyday" Dean scoffs. "It doesn't seem that bad" Y/N shrugs and Dean looks at her surprised.

"You'd want this whole picket fence stuff?" He asks. "With the right person" She says honestly and he hides his little smile at the thought of Y/N in a minivan. "Nutcase" He snorts. "Asshat" She retorts, narrowing her eyes at him while Sam snickers.

Y/N couldn't help but wonder how it would be like to live a normal apple pie life. If she, Sam and Dean grew up together in Kansas rather than on the road. If their moms were still alive. Would they even be as close as they are right now? Would she be in school? What would she do as a career?

She's always loved music, her dad bought her a guitar for her 13th birthday, granted she hasn't played in a while but she knew if she picked up where she left off, she'd be fine.

Y/N knocks on the door and a middle aged man dressed formally answers. "Welcome" He says with a pleasant smile. "Is this the barbecue?" Dean smiles asking. "Yeah. Not the best weather but...I'm Larry Pike, the developer here" Larry introduces himself, putting his hand out to shake Deans, which he accepts.

"And you are...?" He asks. "Dean. This is Sam and Y/N" Dean answers, introducing the group as Larry takes Sam and Y/N's hands, shaking it. "Sam, Dean, Y/N. Good to meet you. So you three are interested in Oasis Plains?" He asks pleasantly as they nod and smile. "Yes, sir" Y/N says sweetly.

"Let me just say, we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color or...sexual orientation" Larry says and then Y/N realizes what he's getting at. Sam chuckles at this and Deans face drops. "They're brothers" Y/N clarifies holding back a laugh while Larry looks a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, we're actually the happy couple" Dean says, wrapping his arm around Y/N's shoulder, pulling her closer.

She smiles, going along with it and wraps her arm around his waist. Her heart starts beating quickly when his hands trail down her sides to the small of her back. "Sam is just here for the ride" She says clearing her throat. "Darn I apologize but great. Great. Come on in" Larry apologizes, welcoming them in.

Y/N lets go of Dean and walks in first, he slightly groans at the loss of contact but follows behind in. They all make way to the back yard. "You said you were the developer?" Sam asks Larry as they walk into the backyard, filled with people chatting, eating. The works at the barbecue.

"Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels" Larry begins to explain. "And you know what, we built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house" Larry gestures to the decorated backyard.

"We're the first family in Oasis Plains. This is my wife, Joanie" He introduces a middle ahead woman, who puts her hand out to shake Y/N. "Hi there" She says pleasantly. "Hi" Y/N says sweetly taking her hand and shaking it. She then shakes Sam and Deans hands. "Hi nice to meet you" She smiles at them.

"Sam, Dean and Y/N" Larry introduces the trio. "Sam" Sam says as he shakes Joanie's hand. "Pleasure" She says back. "Tell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses." Larry jokes with his wife who smiles nodding. While the trio laughs.

"Boys and girl, if you'll excuse me" Larry politely excused himself before going back to greeting guests. "Don't let his salesman routine scare you. This really is a great place to live" Joanie reassures them. "Hi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales" A brunette woman dressed in office attire introduces herself.

"Lynda was second to move in" Joanie says. "She's a very noisy neighbor though" She jokes before walking off and Lynda laughs, the trio chuckle at the response. "She's kidding, of course" Lynda assures them. "I take it you three are interested in becoming homeowners" Lynda smiles.

"Well- " Dean stutters. "Y-yeah, well-" Sam also stutters. "Well, let me just say, that we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color or...sexual orientation" Lynda says smiling, this time Sam's face drops and Dean chuckles. Y/N doesn't hide her laugh this round.

"Right. I'm gonna go talk to Larry. Okay honeys" Y/N says cheekily before smacking Sam and Deans asses firmly, giving them each a squeeze before sauntering away and swaying her hips. Dean looks at her stunned while Sam awkwardly clears his throat.

Y/N looks back to catch Dean staring and flashes him a quick wink. Deans heart leaps at the way she walks, swaying her hips. Not to mention the wink, he could've melted right there. Which made him wonder, did he have feelings for her? Sure, she's hot.

God she's beautiful but even if he did have feelings for her, she couldn't possibly feel the same way. He chooses to suppress them rather than bring them to light and screwup his friendship with her.

________________________________

"You got three choices: Carpet, Hardwood and Tile" Larry lists the options of flooring to Y/N as the walk down the stairs of his house. She notices a jar with some insects next to the lamp and vase at the bottom of the stairs onto of a table.

"Woah. Someone likes bugs" She jokes. "My son. He's into insects. He's very inquisitive" Larry says trying to sound enthusiastic but Y/N can sense the disapproval in his tone. "Hmm" She says before going back to the tour.

Meanwhile outside Sam and Dean are getting an earful about the house by Lynda. "Who can say no to a steam shower? I use mine everyday" Lynda says and Deans eyebrows quirk up at this. "Sounds great" Sam forces a smile but seems uninterested.

"Honestly I could do with a steam shower" Dean chuckles awkwardly making Sam side eye him. Sam notices near Lynda's hand that's resting in the picnic table next to her as she speaks, a spider is slowing crawling up to it. He nudges Dean who was checking out a blonde mom that was passing by, indicating him about the tarantula.

Deans face drops and he causally but abruptly ends the conversation, "Excuse me" He says with a tight smile, putting his hand on Lynda's shoulder "Uh okay" Lynda says awkwardly before walking away. Sam leans down on the table and scoops the spider up into his hand gently.

Dean remembers seeing a boy laughing when the spider was crawling up to Lynda's hand and points towards him. Sam nods and they make way towards the boy. "Is this yours?" Sam asks and the boy's face drops. "You gonna tell my dad?" The boy asks, taking his spider back from Sam's hand.

"I don't know. Who's your dad?" Dean asks a bit roughly and the boy chuckles ironically. "Yeah. Larry usually skips me in the family introductions" The boy says a bit irritated. "Ouch. The first name basis with the old man sounds pretty grim" Sam exclaims surprised.

"Well, I'm not exactly brochure material" The boy says, petting his spider. "You're preaching to the choir brother" Dean snorts. "Well, hang in there alright, it gets better" Sam assures the young boy. "When?" he asks. "Matthew" They hear Larry call out harshly.

Y/N is behind him, walking back to the group with a slightly confused look on her face. While Larry has a stern look on his. "I am so sorry about my son and his pet" Larry apologizes to them, putting emphasis on the for pet. "It's no bother" Sam assured him. "Excuse us" He excuses them and pulls Matthew to the house by his arm.

Y/N looks back at the father and son before walking towards the boys. "Remind you of somebody?" Sam asks Dean who looks at Larry lecturing Matthew rather harshly. He looks back at Sam confused. "Dad?" Sam adds. "Dad never treated us like that" Dean scoffs.

"Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case" Sam says and Dean doesn't answer. "You don't remember?" Sam asks a bit amused. "Maybe he had to raise his voice but sometimes you were out of line" Dean defends and Sam laughs but there's no humor in it.

"Right. Like when I said I'd rather play soccer than learn bow hunting" Sam says dryly. "Bowhunting is an important skill" Dean says matter of factly. "Okay let's not get into this now fellas. Don't make a scene" Y/N chimes in warningly after seeing the look of disbelief on Sam's face. She nods at him reassuringly and he smiles sadly.

She understands how difficult Sam's relationship was with his dad and he knew she could relate. They always had each other to lean on whenever shit hits the fan and they need to talk about their dads.

"Yeah. How was your tour?" Sam asks, smiling tightly. "Oh, it was excellent. I'm ready to buy" She says jokingly and the boys chuckle. "I think we're onto something. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death here" Y/N informs them. "What happened?" Dean asks.

"About a year ago before they broke ground one of Larry's surveyors dropped dead on the while on the job" Y/N explains, looking back at Larry who's still lecturing Matthew. "Get this: a severe allergic reaction to bee stings" She adds. "More bugs" Sam and Dean say in unison. "More bugs" Y/N confirms.

________________________________

Later they're all in the Impala, Y/N in the drivers seat, Dean in shotgun reading a book and Sam lounging in the back. "You know I've heard of killer bees but killer beetles? What is it that can make different bugs attack" Dean questions.

"Well, haunting a sometimes include bug manifestations" Sam suggests. "But I didn't see any evidence of ghost activity" Dean says. "Yeah me neither" Y/N sighs. "Maybe they're being controlled somehow. You know? By something or someone" Dean suggests. "You mean like Willard?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. Bugs instead of rats" Dean shrugs. "There are cases of psychic connections between people and animals. Elemental, telepaths.." Y/N explains as she adjusts her hands on the steering wheel. "Yeah, the whole Timmy-Lassie thing" Sam says and something clicks on Deans head.

"Larry's kid. Bugs for pets" Dean says. "Matt?" Y/N asks and turns her head to them for a second. "He did try to scare the realtor with a tarantula" Sam says. "Think he's our Willard?" Dean asks. "I don't know" Y/N says and looks at Sam in the rearview mirror. "Anything's possible, I guess" Sam adds.

"Oh hey. Pull over here" Dean ushers Y/N to pull over to a vacant houses driveway. She obliges a bit confused. "What're we doing here?" Sam asks and Dean gets out of the passenger seat. "It's too late to talk to anybody else" He says and goes to open the garage door. Sam and Y/N look over horrified.

"We're gonna squat in an empty house?" Y/N asks bewildered while Sam shakes his head. "I wanna try the steam shower. Come on" Dean says smugly. She stares at him and he ushers again. "Come on Princess! Don't be a wuss" He teases and she shakes her head sighing.

"Your brother is gonna be the death of me" She grumbles quietly to Sam who snickers. Y/N reluctantly pulls into the garage and Sam sticks his hand out the window to lightly punch his brother in the stomach.

________________________________

"You ever coming out of there?!" Y/N yells through the bathroom door, knocking on it. "What!?" Dean responds over the shower. "Dean. A police call came in on the scanner" She informs him. "Hold on" He says annoyed. "Someone was found dead three blocks from here. Come on!" She orders and he opens the door with a smile on his face, a towel wrapped around his head and naked from torso up.

"This shower is awesome" Dean says excitedly and Y/N's eyes trail up his body slightly, her face grows a bit red but she covers it up with a roll of her eyes. "Come on" She groans and walks off, hiding the blush that's building up in her face.

Later they arrive to a house couple blocks away, where the paramedics were wheeling out a body on the stretcher and the place is swarming with police cars. They all exit the car with their umbrellas as it's raining, opening them to walk towards the house.

"Look, I don't know anything more right now. I'll have to call you back. Alright." Larry says into his phone before hanging up as the trio approach him. "Hello. You're back early" Larry says to them with a tight smile on his face. "Yeah. We just drove in, wanted to take another look at the neighborhood" Dean says casually.

"What's going on?" Y/N asks curiously and Larry sighs, looking back at the paramedics putting the gurney into the back of the ambulance. "You guys met Lynda Bloome at the barbecue?" He asks. "The realtor" Sam says with recognition. "Well, she uh...she passed away last night" He informs them sadly.

"What happened?" Dean asked in a concerned tone. "I'm still trying to find that out. I identified the body for the police" Larry says in a shaky voice, looking towards the house. "Look, I'm sorry. This isn't a good time" He apologizes to them and begins to walk off. "It's okay" Y/N says in a sympathetic tone.

"You fellas know what we have to do, right?" Y/N says to them and they nod. "Yeah. Get in that house" Sam says. "See if we got a bug problem" Dean adds.

They wait for the police to clear out and scale the wall of Lynda's house. They find an unlocked window and climb in, Sam closes it behind him. "This looks like the place" Dean says, gesturing to the ground infront of him that has the outline of a body with tape on it infront of the door to the bathroom.

He goes in and stoops to the ground, picking up the wet towel of the water soaked floor. Some bugs fall out of the towel and Y/N grimaces at it. "Spiders" She says and Dean nods. "From spider boy?" He assumes. "Matt. Maybe" Sam says.

________________________________

They later pull up to follow Matt's school bus to where it's dropping him off and Matt exits the bus. "Isn't his house that way?" Y/N asks pointing across the road. "Yep" Sam says. "So where's he going?" Dean asks as Matt walks down a path and they all exit the Impala to follow him.

They find Matt in a wooded area not too far from his house, picking up a praying mantis. "Hey Matt. Remember me?" Sam asks calmly and the young boy is surprised to see the three hunters. "What're you doing out here?" Matt asks them suspiciously. "Well, we wanna talk to you" Y/N says nicely with a small smile on her face.

"You're not here to buy a house, are you?" Matt says knowingly and his face changes. "Wait. You're not serial killers?" He asks shakily and they all snicker in laughter. "No, no. No. I think you're safe" Sam says humorously. "So, Matt...you sure know a lot about insects" Dean says.

"So?" Matt shrugs. "Did you hear what happened to Lynda, the realtor?" Y/N asks and Matt's face drops slightly. "I heard she died this morning" He says. "That's right. Spider bites." Dean says the last part lowly and Sam looks back at him like 'dude, seriously?'.

"Matt, you tried to scare her with a spider" Sam says and Matt seems a bit amused. "Wait. You think I had something to do with that?" He asks. "You tell us" Dean says with a serious look on his face. "That tarantula was a joke. Anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas company guy" Matt explains and Y/N's eyebrows quirk up.

"You know about those?" She asks. "There is something going on here. I don't know what but somethings happening with the insects. Let me show you something" Matt says and picks up his bag to lead them down the path. The three share a look and follow him down.

"So if you knew about all this bug stuff, why not tell you dad? Maybe he could clear everybody out" Sam asks curiously. "Believe me, I've tried but uh...Larry doesn't listen to me" Matt scoffs. "Why not?" Y/N asks. "Mostly? He's too disappointed in his freak son" Matt says and Sam huffs.

"I hear ya" Sam says. "I get it kid" Y/N adds. "You do?" Dean asks them surprised. They look back at him but don't answer. "Matt, how old are you?" Sam asks. "Sixteen" He answers. "Well don't sweat it, because in two years, something greats gonna happen" Sam assured him.

"What?" Matt asks. "College" Sam answers. "You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad" Sam says. "What kind of advice is that? Kid should stick with his family" Dean chimes in and Sam looks back at his brother in annoyance. Y/N notices the hostility and tries to ease the situation.

"How much further, Matt?" She asks nicely. "We're close" He says and begins to walk towards it. "Any fighting and I'm putting you two in a time out. Understood?" Y/N says firmly, to the boys warningly and they nod curtly before following begin Matt. "Are you gonna spank me too?" Dean whispers for only her to hear and she whips her head to him, surprised.

A wicked smirk on his face and she rolls her eyes. "Keep it up, I just might Winchester" She retorts scoffing and walks ahead of him. Deans eyes linger to her hips swaying a bit and his heart quickens. They walk a little further in and are greeted by the sound of many insects and bugs chirping, crawling and flying around.

"I've been keeping track of insect populations. It's uh, part of an AP Science class" Matt explains. "You two are like peas in a pod" Dean says to Sam. Y/N shoots him a warning glare and he puts his hands up in surrender chuckling. "What's been happening?" Y/N asks Matt. "A lot. I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles...you name it. It's like they're congregating here" Matt explains.

"Why?" Dean asks. "I don't know" Matt says. "What's that?" Sam asks, pointing to the patch of area where it's brown, no grass growing. They all walk up towards it to see a bunch of earthworms and Dean presses his foot lightly against it, causing it to sink down. He picks up a stick and pushes it into the hole, digging around and tapping a bit lightly on something solid.

"There's something down there" He says, looking at Sam and Y/N. He puts the stick down and pushes his hand on. They resists the urge to gag as he does so. "Come on. Come on." He grunts, trying to pull whatever it is up. He grabs a hold of it and pulls it out. Revealing a human skull. He looks back at Sam and Y/N who has disgust etched on their faces.

________________________________

They all left Matt in the woods to do what he does and now ended up at a local university to do some research on what they found. They all exit the Impala, Sam coming out of the drivers seat after parking. Y/N takes the box out of the backseat with her and Sam throws his jacket onto to cover it.

"So a bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave" Sam says as they walk towards the entrance. "Yeah, we'll maybe this is a haunting. Pissed off spirits...some unfinished business" Dean suggests. "Yeah, maybe" Y/N nods in agreement. "The question is, why bugs? And why now?" Sam asks rhetorically.

"That's two questions" Y/N says sarcastically and they chuckle. "Hey, so with that kid back there...how could you tell him to ditch his family like that?" Dean asks Sam. "Just, uh, I know what the kids going through.." Sam says. "How about telling him to respect his old man? How's that for advice?" Dean says a bit brashly.

"Dean come on" Y/N warns him and he sighs. "This isn't about his old man. You think I didn't respect Dad. That's what this is about" Sam says knowingly and Dean pauses, having been caught. "Let's forget it alright. Sorry I brought it up" He says, trying to change the subject. "I respected him. But no matter what I did. It was never good enough." Sam says frustrated.

"So what are you saying? Dad was disappointed in you?" Dean says. "Was?" Sam chuckles dryly. "Is. Always has been" Sam states. "Why would you think that?" Dean asks exasperated. "Because I didn't wanna bow hunt. Or hustle pool. Because I wanted to go to school and live my life. Which, in our whacked out families, made me the freak" Sam rants.

"Yeah, you were kind of like the blond chick from The Munsters" Dean cracks a joke and Y/N shakes her head. "Dean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud" Sam whispers the last part. "Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house" Sam says hurt and Dean nods. "I remember that fight. In fact, I see to recall a few choice phrases coming out of your mouth" Dean says.

Sam nods, chuckling humorously. "You know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad and Mr. L/N , I don't even know if dads gonna wanna see me" Sam says with a sad smile on his face. Y/N felt a pang in her chest when he said that, wanting to tell him it's not true but also feeling like she doesn't have a place in this conversation, she puts her hand on his shoulder comfortingly and he gives her a sad smile before she drops her hand back.

"Sam, Dad was never disappointed in you. Never. He was scared" Dean assures his little brother. "What are you talking about?" Sam asks him confused. "He was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. But even when you two weren't talking...he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could. Keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe" Dean explains to Sam.

Sams face drops. "What?" He asks surprised. "Yeah" Dean nods. "Why didn't he tell me any of that?" Sam asks. "Well, it's a two way street, dude. You could have picked up the phone" Dean says and Sam swallows the lump in this throat, staring down sadly. Y/N notices the time on her watch, feeling a bit bad for having to interrupt them.

"I don't mean to interrupt your moment fellas. But we're gonna be late for our appointment" She says gently. "Yeah...let's go" Dean says, flashing her a small smile, he takes the box of stuff from her hand and walks to the entrance. "Sorry Y/N, we didn't mean to drag you into that" Sam apologizes sincerely.

"Hey hey, we're family" She says gently with a small smile in her face. Placing her hand back on his shoulder, "I of all people know that you two have got some stuff you need to work out. Don't apologize for anything ever. Im always here" She assures him and he smiles at her sadly.

"Thanks y/n/n" He says gratefully, giving her a hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Anytime Sammy" She says, wrapping her hands around his waist, patting his back. They let go of their hug and walk towards the entrance.

________________________________

"So you three are students?" Professor Reardon asks them, now in the lecture hall. "Yeah. Yeah. We're in your class. Anthro 101?" Sam says to the professor. "Oh, yeah" The professor responds as if he knew, which he didn't recognize them but went along with it. "So, what about those bones professor?" Dean asks.

"This is quite an interesting find you've made" Professor Reardon compliments. "I'd say they're 170 years old, give or take. The time frame and the geography heavily suggest Native American"  He tells them and Dean looks over at Sam and Y/N surprised.

"Were there any tribes or reservations on that land?" Sam asks confused. "Not according to the uh...historical record. But..the uh relocation of native peoples was quite common at that time" The professor explains. "Right. Well, are there any local legends? Oral histories about the area?" Y/N asks curiously.

"Well...you know, there's a Euchee tribe in Sapulpa. It's about 60 miles from here. Someone out there might know the truth" The professor tells them. "Alright" Dean nods smiling.

________________________________

They follow the professors advice and go to the Euchee Tribe's grounds in Supulpa. Approaching a man directs them where to part and they approach a cafe. Inside is the tribes leader, and elderly Native American man with long grey hair, sitting at a booth, playing solitaire.

"Joe White Tree?" Sam asks the man at the booth and he nods in confirmation. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right sir" Y/N says sweetly, a pleasant smile on her face. "We're students from the university" Dean adds.

"No, you're not. You're lying" Joe calls Dean out on his lie, stunning the group. "Um...well truth is-" Dean stutters but Joe cuts him off. "You know who starts sentence with 'truth is'? Liars" Joe says bluntly, playing his card game. Dean looks over at Sam and Y/N, both suppressing their amusement.

Sam sighs "Have you heard of Oasis Plains?" He asks. "It's a housing development near the Atoka Valley" Y/N adds and Joe looks at them and back at Dean. "I like them" Joe says. "They're not liars" He adds bluntly making Dean slightly roll his eyes uncomfortably. Y/N chuckles a bit along with Sam while she places her hand on Deans shoulder comfortingly.

"I know the area" Joe tells them, nodding. "What can you tell us about the history up there?" Sam asks. "Why would you wanna know?" Joe asks curiously. "Something...Something bad is happening in Oasis Plains. We think it might have something to do with some old bones we found there..Native American bones" Y/N explains to him sadly.

Joe nods sadly, thinking a bit before telling them. "I'll tell you what my grandfather told me. What his grandfather told him. Two hundred years ago, a band of my ancestors lived in that valley. One day, the American cavalry came to relocate them." He begins to explain and the three share a look.

"They were resistant...the cavalry impatient. As my grandfather put it: 'On the night the moon and the sun share the sky as equals...the cavalry first raided our village. They murdered, raped. The next day, the cavalry came again. And the next and the next. And on the sixth night, the cavalry came one last time. And by the time the sun rose....every man, woman band child still in the village was dead' " Joe tells the story and the three begin to grow a bit uneasy. The story breaking all their hearts.

"They say on the sixth night...as the chief of the village lay dying...he whispered to the heavens...that nonwhite man would ever tarnish this land again. Nature would rise up and protect the valley. And it would bring as many days of misery and death to the white man as the cavalry brought upon his people" Joe finishes telling the story and something clicks in Y/N head.

"Insects" She says turning to the boys. Deans eyebrows quirk up. "Sounds like nature to me" He says. "Six days?" Dean asks Joe. "And in the night of the sixth day...none would survive" Joe says, going back to his card game.

They thank Joe for his time and exit the cafe. "When did the gas-company man die?" Sam asks. "Uh...let's see. We got here Tuesday, so Friday the 20th" Dean informs him as they walk to the Impala and once again, Y/N realizes something. "March 20th. That's the spring equinox" Y/N tells them.

"The night the sun and the moon share the sky as equals" Dean says and Sam huffs. "So every year about this time, anybody in Oasis Plains is in danger. Larry built his neighborhood on cursed land" Sam says ironically. "And on the sixth night, that's tonight" Y/N says. "If we don't do something, Larry's family will be dead by sunrise" Sam says as they go to their respective doors by the car.

"So how do we break the curse?" Y/N asks Dean. "You don't break a curse. You get out of its way. We gotta get those people out now" Dean says urgently, they all jump in Baby and make their way back to Oasis Plains in a hurry.

________________________________

Now rushing down the street in the Impala to Oasis Plains, Y/N is on the phone with Larry Pike, pretending to be from the gas company. "Yes, Mr. Pike. There's a mainline gas leak in your neighborhood" She says urgently into the phone. "God. Really? How big?" Larry asks worried.

"Well. It's fairly extensive. I don't wanna alarm you but we need your family out of the vicinity for at least 12 hours. Just to be safe" She lies. "And who is this again?" Larry asks suspiciously. "Tara Weaver. I work for the Oklahoma Gas and Power" She tells him.

"Uh-huh. The problem is, I know Tara. She's worked with us for a year. So who is this" Larry demands, catching onto her lie. "Uh..." She stutters, hanging up the phone and tossing it aside. Sam sighs in frustration. "Give me the phone" He tells her and she hands it to him.

Sam dials Matt's number into it. "Hello?" Matt answers. "Matt. It's Sam." He tells him. "Sam. My backyard's crawling with cockroaches" Matt says panicked. "Matt, just listen. You have to get your family out of that house right now. Okay?" Sam instructs him quickly. "What? Why?" Matt asks confused.

"Because something's coming" He tells him honestly, looking over at Dean and Y/N. "More bugs?" Matt asks. "Yeah. A lot more" Sam confirms. "My dad doesn't listen in the best of circumstances. What am I supposed to tell him?" Matt asks. "You gotta make him listen. Okay?" Sam instructs him causing Y/N and Dean rolls their eyes.

"Gimme the phone. Gimme the phone!" Y/N orders her best friend, leaning over the seat and snatching the phone from him. "Matt! Under no circumstances are you to tell him the truth. He'll just think you're nuts" Y/N says into the phone, her voice laced with authority. "But, he's my-" Matt goes to argue but Y/N cuts him off.

"Tell him you have a sharp pain in your right side and you gotta go to the hospital. Okay?" She tells him. "Yeah. Yeah, okay" Matt breaths out reluctantly and Y/N hangs the phone up. Dean looks over to his little brother disapprovingly. " 'Make him listen.' What are you thinking?" He retorts while Sam smirks, shaking his head.

________________________________

They park infront of the Pike residence to see the lights on and the cars still in the garage. "Dammit. They're still here" Y/N groans. "Come on" Dean says to them and they exit the Impala, walking up to the front door but Larry sees them from his window and comes out of the house.

"Get off my property before I call the cops!" He yells at them, pointing his finger towards them. "Mr. Pike. Listen-" Sam tries to reason but Matt cuts him off. "Dad, they're just trying to help" He tries to tell Larry. "Get in the house!" Larry commands his son. "Sorry. I told him the truth" Matt says apologetically.

"We had a plan, Matt. What happened to the plan?" Y/N grumbles. "Look. It's 12 am. They are coming any minute now. You need to get your family and go. Before it's too late" Sam warns Larry. "Wait no. You mean, before the biblical swarm" Larry says sarcastically.

"Larry, what do you think really happened to that realtor? Huh? And the gas company guy. You don't think something weirds going on around here?" Dean tells him. "Look. I don't know who you are, but you're crazy. You come near my boy or my family again, we're gonna have a problem" Larry threatens them.

"Well I hate to be a downer. But we got a problem now" Y/N says firmly. "Dad, they're right. We're in danger" Matt tries to warn his dad but he turns back to him angrily, "Matt, get inside! Now!" He yells at Matt loudly. "No! Why won't you listen to me!?" Matt screams back frustrated. "Because this is crazy! It doesn't make any sense!" Larry shouts angrily.

"Look, this land is cursed. People have died here! Now are you gonna really take that risk with your family!?" Sam yells at Larry, now irritated. "Wait" Dean says, they all hear the rumbling of the bugs. "You hear it?" Y/N asks Larry. "What the hell" Larry says confused and the bug zapper behind them on Larry's porch goes off continuously.

"Alright, it's time to go Larry. Get your wife. Yeah" Dean orders Larry and he runs up the porch. "Guys?" Matt draws their attention to the swarm of bugs flying towards them. "Oh my god" Larry says, stunned. "We'll never make it" Sam says. "Everybody in the house. Everybody in the house. Go!" Dean yells, and they all run into the house.

"Is there anyone else in the neighborhood?" Y/N asks as they close the door behind them. "No, it's just us" Larry tells him. "Honey, what's happening? What's that noise?" Larry's wife, Joanie, asks. "Call 911...Joanie!" He yells at her. "O-okay" She says panicked. "I need towels" Dean tells Larry urgently. "The closet" He says and goes to get them.

"We gotta lock this place up. Come on. Doors, windows, the fireplace, everything" Y/N tells Sam and Matt, running up the stairs to do as she said. "The phones are dead" Joanie tells Larry and Dean fearfully. "Must've chewed through the phone lines" Dean says as he lays towels down under the cracks of the door.

Suddenly the electricity goes out. "And the power lines..." Dean adds. "Maybe my cell.." Larry says, running to grab his phone. "No signal" He says. "You won't get one. They're blanketing the house" Dean tells him as the bugs cover the windows outsides, cluttering at the windows.

Sam and Y/N come back downstairs while Matt grabs onto his mom, clutching at her side. They watch as the bugs crawl on the windows. "What do we do now?" Larry asks them. "We try to outlast it" Y/N says lowly. "Hopefully, the curse will end at sunrise" Sam says.

"Hopefully?" Larry asks panicked. Dean goes into the kitchen to see the bugs cluttering at the kitchen window. He runs below the sink, hoping to find bug spray. He eventually finds it, popping the top off and goes back into the living room. "Bug spray?" Joanie asks bewildered. "Trust me" Dean says.

They hear a creaking sound coming from behind them. "What is that?" Matt asks. It sounded like it was coming from the fireplace. They inch closer and closer. "The flue" Y/N says. "Alright. I think we need to get everyone upstairs" Dean says and then a loud bang comes from the fireplace.

Bugs swarm from out of it by the thousands. Larry and his family scream in fear. Y/N grabs the canister of bug spray from Dean and pulls out her lighter. Flicking it open and spraying the bug spray into the flame, making a makeshift flame thrower. "Everybody upstairs! Now! Go go go!" She yells and they all begin running upstairs in panic and fear.

She uses the fire to clear a path so they can go upstairs quickly. They go up to the attic. Sam locks the door behind and Y/N uses the fire to shun most of the bugs out. "Oh god, what's that?" Joanie asks fearfully, seeing dust from the fall. Sam, Dean and Y/N move closer to see. "Something's eating through the wood" Y/N says. "Termites" Joanie says fearfully.

"Alright. Everybody get back. Get back!" Dean orders them. "Get back!" Larry tells his son and wife, shielding them with his body. "Matt!" Joanie calls out worriedly for her son. The wooden roof them breaks down a hole causing thousands of termites to fly in and swarm them. Y/N uses the bug spray and lighter to spray fire at them.

While Sam goes and get an old electric panel door and Dean grabs a long piece of wood. "Dean you got it?!" Sam asks Dean. "Yeah. Go, go, go!" Dean screams and Sam uses the panel door to block the hole while Dean uses the stick to hold it up. They hear another side of the roof breaking and Y/N sprays the bug spray into the lighter again to fire at them.

The Pikes are screaming as the big fly all about them. More of the wooden roof breaks and Y/N sprays it in all directions but the big are growing more and more. Suddenly they start to fly back outside, confusing everyone. The boys and Y/N walk slowly to the exposed roofing to see that the sun has risen meaning the curse has been lift.

________________________________

The next day, the trio pull up to the Pike Residence to see moving trucks outside. Getting out of the vehicle, Dean jokingly says "What? No goodbye?". Larry spots them, "Good timing. Another hour and we'd have been gone" Larry say, reaching out to shake Deans hand gratefully. "For good?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. The development's been put on hold while the government investigates the bones you found. But I'm gonna make damn sure no one lives here again" Larry informs them, determined. "You don't seem too upset about it" Sam says. "Well, this has been the biggest financial disaster of my career but somehow.." Larry begins and looks back at Matt carrying a box and smiles looking back at the hunters

"...I really don't care" He tells them and they smile. Sam goes over to talk to Matt, to see him at the dumpster throwing away all his bug stuff. "What's this?" He asks surprised. "I don't know. They...kind of weird me out now" Matt says smiling and Sam chuckles. "Yeah, I should hope so" He says laughing.

Meanwhile Dean and Y/N are at the Impala leaning against it while Sam and Matt chat. Dean notices the look of despair on Y/N's face and nudges her a bit. She looks up at him with a tight smile, "You're doing great, you know that?" He assures her. "What?" She asks confused. "This job. You're doing great. I could only imagine how amazing you did on your own. Your dad is proud of you too" Dean assured her and she shakes her head.

"I appreciate that Dean. Even if I don't believe it" She smiles softly at him. "You better believe it princess" He smirks, nudging her again. "Shut up charming" She chuckles, nudging him back jokingly biting her lower lip to stop herself from smiling. Dean notices this and his eyes dart down to her lips. Y/N couldn't help but trail her eyes down to his.

"When we do find our dads...I just wanna give them a hug" Y/N says looking down. Dean sees her frown, his heart breaks seeing her so sad and he wraps his arm around her, pulling her into his shoulder. "Fuck I sound like a little bitch" She chuckles dryly. "No you don't. Hey look at me" He says gently and she looks up at him, her gaze filled with sorrow.

"You're great too, Winchester" She says sincerely clearing her throat, pulling her eyes away from his lips. He smiles at the compliment. "Not as great as me though" She adds cockily, flashing him a wink and he rolls his eyes in fake annoyance causing her to laugh more. "Shut up, Princess" He grumbles jokingly.

Sam walks back over after his conversation with Matt and leans next to Y/N on the Impala. Dean and Y/N only notice Sam when they feel the weight on Baby shift and let out of their side hug. "I wanna find our dads" He tells them. "Yeah me too" Dean says.

"Same here" Y/N adds. "Yeah, but I just...I wanna apologize to Dad" Sam says and Dean looks over at Sam. "For what?" He asks and Sam takes a deep breath. "All the things I said to him. He was just doing the best he can" Sam says and Y/N nods agreeing. "Me and you both" She says looking down.

"Don't worry guys, we'll find them. And you two will get to apologize" He says to them. "And then within five minutes Sam and Dad will be at each others throats" Dean adds making Sam and Y/N laugh. "Yeah probably" Sam says laughing. "You too Princess. I think I'm gonna need to get a crowbar to separate you and f/n from clawing at each other" Dean tells Y/N jokingly and she laughs hysterically.

"Bite me, charming" She counters laughing. The three share a lengthy laugh before sobering up. "Let's hit the road fellas" Y/N says. "Let's" Dean says and opens the back door for her, gesturing for her to get in. She dramatically gasps and he rolls his eyes. "My oh my. Such a gentleman. Are you gonna paint my nails next?" She jokes, wiggling her eyebrows and getting in.

"Sure. What color would you like? Bubblegum pink or lavender purple?" He retorts back sarcastically in a high voice, locking the door, a tinge of pink growing on his cheeks and Y/N and Sam laugh hysterically. Shaking his head. Stubborn asses. Sam thinks to himself. Sam gets in and Dean gets in the drivers seat and they're off.

________________________________

Authors Note:

I took forever with this one because I really really reallllyyyyy hate this episode. It creeps the shit out of me because of the bugs. So I hope you enjoy this cuz god was this different to write😭😭😭

Xoxo

[thedarkmistress16]

A/N: Watched Deadpool 3 and Iron Man 1 (the latter for the first time, can you believe) with my boyfriend in the same day last week and my mind was fighting between finishing a Hugh Jackman wip or a Tony Stark one. My creative juices followed popular demand in a new wip until it didn't, lol.

So, here's a yan!series I started writing a long time ago that I feel I can finish if I put my mind to it. It just may take a while to do.

I would include all the tags I've listed like on my past works, but I'd rather y'all be surprised when the time comes for this one. 😏 I will tag them per chapter. In this case, chapter one has no warnings. Just expository/setting up/housekeeping. This time, Fem!reader is female and has female parts, but still feel free to switch it out if desired. Gif isn't mine.

——————————————————————————————————

Stalker!Yandere!Tony Stark x Fem!Reader- To Steal and Dote On

Chapter 2 |

Chapter 1: Two Worlds Collide

——————————————————————————————————

“(Name)!” You’re abruptly snapped out of your stupor as your friend comes barreling through the bustling cafe toward your comfy spot by the window. “I got invitations!” Your friend waves her phone around in the air, bumping into other disgruntled patrons along the way.

You sigh softly, closing your laptop. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be getting anything else done for the rest of your shared lunch break. This must’ve been what she had to “take care of” before meeting you in your usual spot today. She plops herself down right across from you with a beaming smile and seems to almost vibrate in place as her eyes excitedly pour into yours. “Invites for what?”

(Friend name) thrusts the device in your face and after blinking a few times, you find it’s opened to an email. “You’re looking at the next attendee to the hottest spot in New York City!” She announces as you skim it over, and while it reads like any generic acceptance letter, it seems legitimate.

Your friend usually works more in the spotlight than you even though you’re employed at the same company, networking whenever she could as you spent those hours pushing pencils. So it made sense that (Friend name) gathered some connections and got some strings pulled to get into an event like this. And judging by her barely-contained giddiness, a very anticipated one.

You don’t understand her excitement, but are happy for her nonetheless. You raise your head to look at her past the device. “Congratulations, (Friend name).”

Her eyebrows level and she just stares for a moment, like she’s analyzing you. “Girl, did you even read it?”

“Um,” Confusion fills your voice and then she’s glaring at you in irritation. It’s so unexpected that it makes your eyes dart around the table to avoid the stare.

“It says ‘all invited attendees are allowed an additional guest.’” She states matter-of-factly, reminiscent of a teacher explaining something one-too many times.

“Okay?”

“And,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “you’re my plus one!” Your friend's expression lightens again and your eyes widen in shock.

“Really?”

“Yes, silly!” She laughs as she pulls her device back from your face. “It’s over the weekend and I know you don’t have plans, so don’t even try to flake out on this.”

“But I-” you start, but (Friend name) pipes up again.

“Oh, and don’t worry if you don’t have anything to wear. You can always borrow something of mine.”

Despite your hesitance, you didn’t really have any reason to say no, and you didn’t want to leave your friend hanging when she asked you of all people to go with her.

You can feel her bubbliness make its way into the smile steadily growing on your lips.

“When are we leaving?”

——————————————————————————————————

It took you a while to find something suitable, but between the hangers cluttered in the section of your closet that you barely ever touched, you did discover a classy little black number that felt appropriate.

You wanted to fit in enough where you wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb, while blending to avoid being the center of attention at the same time. It was more (Friend name)’s event than yours to try hard or impress anyone at, anyway.

That, and- well, you didn’t have anything else that was on the fancier side.

By combining different accessories, however, you were able to make the ensemble stand out a lot better than before. It still looked subtle and classy, too. Inspecting yourself over through the tall mirror fills you with a wave of confidence, and you mentally pat yourself on the back for your gifted ability to improvise what you had.

Your phone blared with a notification as you slipped the dress on, and you turned to pick it up from your bedside table.

‘(Friend name): Coming over in 10, (Nickname). Don’t be late!’

You smile to no one, tapping away at your reply before setting the device down and touching up the last of your look.

When you headed out of your apartment and climbed into the cab your friend was waving you from, she had given you a once-over.

“You look gorgeous, (Name).” A pleased laugh escaped you, and you complimented her in kind.

“And you look ready to devour the night, (Friend name).” She poses for you, winking with exaggeration, before falling into a fit of giggles alongside you.

After calming down, she relays the address to the driver and the vehicle lurches to life. You distract each other with some small talk, and by the time you get there, it feels as though not much time has passed.

(Friend name) steps out first, and you’re left to fumble with your purse to pay the fare before getting out yourself. You’re immediately greeted by hoards of flashing lights that discombobulate your vision. You swear you’re about to stumble before you feel an arm looping around yours.

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you,” your friend whispers as she guides you down the red carpet arm-in-arm.

You mildly shake your head, not wanting your unfamiliarity in this setting to put a damper on her night.

“Ah, I’m fine; just been a while since I wore heels this high.”

(Friend name) looks at you and smiles, but doesn’t say anything more as you both head toward the entrance of the high rise. She flashes her phone at the man clad in black who stands by the glass door like a sentry guard. He grunts, signaling a confirmation with his hand, and you both step inside.

Right away, the crowd is overwhelmingly large. The space is just as expansive, and your eyes can’t help but trail up toward the ginormous chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It’s so expansive and gaudy that you can’t help but think it has no business being here besides spectacle.

“Will you be okay?” She asks, concern bleeding through her eyes. You wave her off again.

“Oh- yeah. Go on and mingle. Just let me know when you want to leave. I'll be close by.” You give her a reassuring thumbs-up.

“Okay,” (Friend name) breathes, easiness and positivity morphing her mood quickly as she surveys the room. “I'll be rubbing elbows if you need me,” she winks, letting go of your arm to happily bound off in one direction, and your heart feels a bit heavy at the loss.

A part of you regrets even saying that, wanting her to selfishly be by your side in such a foreign place you would never step willingly into on your own accord. Another side of you spins the overwhelming assault on your senses as a good thing, telling you to suck it up and enjoy yourself for once. Ultimately, you decide to head over to the bar first, get something to loosen you up, and meet up with your plus one later. How you'll spend the time in between though, you're unsure.

——————————————————————————————————

A surveying sweep of the event room from your perch on the uncomfortable plastic of the bar stool turns fruitless almost immediately. The more you stare out into the sea of people, the less you see somehow.

It feels somewhat like a classy, high-end nightclub with art studio lights bearing down like a terrarium heat lamp; the kind of party that requires knowing someone just to get your foot in the door. Walking up to a stranger to strike up a conversation is possible, you muse to yourself, if you want to commit social suicide. Knowing nothing about the purpose of the party or who anyone is will sink any incoming credibility you could have going in. And although a part of you wanted to come out here for a new experience, you realize you aren't ready for what that entails just yet.

So, you planted your elbow down on the wooden grain-textured surface of the bar, resting your phone in front of you and scouring through apps to pass the time. You don’t know how many drinks you had; you do know that the more you sat there, the more tired you got.

Clusters of guests came and went, rattling off drink orders and chatting with their entourage. Some spoke many pleasantries while others sounded more serious. It was interesting to catch snippets of their lives, but none of it was interesting enough to pull you away from your distraction and jump into their conversation.

A few people shuffled around your spot at the bar, moving off to the side and away from you, as if making space. Then, you feel a presence beside you, accompanied by the shuffling sound of paper rifling through someone's hands. A whiff of cologne stings your nostrils, something reeking strongly of ethanol and new car smell, oddly enough.

“Hey, you. Gimme a martini, yeah? Dirty it up for me.” Your peripherals caught a black sleeve hovering over the bar on your left side, quite close to your person. “Actually,” the male voice chimed up once more, fingers snapping shortly afterward, “throw in a scotch, too. Rocks a-plenty.” The way he was talking to the bartender was starting to put you off, further worsening your mood and whatever intrigue he had.

Then your brain got to thinking about (Friend Name). Where did she walk off to? Was she enjoying herself? When will she be ready to leave? Tapping your phone, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, lightly biting it as your eyebrows furrowed. You start to wonder whether you should call a cab in advance.

“All by yourself, sweetheart?” The voice is too close to not be directed at you, you think, and you finally turn your head to look at the male.

He’s dressed in a crisp black and white tux, devoid of any wrinkles. A ring shines from the finger on his right hand as he moves his drink up, which draws your assessment to his face. You catch the hint of his dark stubble behind the glass as he sips, and the bright lights overhead tell you it’s a of deep brown color like his seemingly fluffed and gelled hair. Your gaze drops to his eyes, finding the same shade in them as his other features, but feel as though some kind of mirth is playing behind them. It seems he’s waiting for you to say something.

“Uh, who are you?”

“I’m Tony Stark.”

…Okay? Who the fuck was that?

Your brows scrunch together in confusion.

“You know, a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.”

No, you didn’t know.

“Oh, and part-time superhero. I’m sure you heard my name pop up in the news.” He waves his free hand in the air dismissively. “It’s made of different stuff, but iron is more digestible to say than Gold-Titanium Man.”

You wonder if you’re conversing with a crazy person or if you're really the crazy one.

And you really want to believe you’re in some sort of lucid dream right now, because there is no way this guy is actually for real. But he’s looking at you with such confidence, steadily maintaining eye contact. It’s as if he expects you to agree with him or go along with it even if you don’t know what he’s talking about. If the latter is true, then this man is offering that bridge between your world and this foreign one.

It's too bad that you're well out of whatever party mood you were in when you arrived. If you were more hopeful for such discussions going well, perhaps you would play along with his jest and cadence. But not tonight. The more you sat there, the stronger of an urge you had to retreat back to your apartment and relax.

Casting him a side-eye served with a raised brow, you wearily speak up. “I’ve never heard of you before in my entire life.” He, this... self-proclaimed Tony-GoldMan, opened his mouth to say something.

“Excuse me.”

Both of your attention turns to a woman who strides up with confidence in her sparkling heels and shimmery dress. She addresses you with a brief flick of her eyes before settling on Tony, silently telling you she only acknowledged you out of courtesy, and had only approached for him. You turn away unbothered, knowing your time in the conversation is up, and it will be a matter of time before they shimmy away from you, too.

“Are you Tony Stark?” Her inflection is high, almost pitchy-sounding, and asks it in a way that hints she does, in fact, know him.

“Well, that’s what my birth certificate says. So, probably.”

She laughs, and you weren't sure if it was the volume of her voice or the strain on your ears from the crowds up to that point, but it gave you a splitting headache.

Your phone pinged with a text suddenly, and while it startled you like a jumpscare would, you felt your mood brighten a bit as you open the message.

‘(Friend name): Got caught up with some cutie, lol. Don’t wait up! Be safe, okay?’

Good for her. And oh, fuck yes! Now you didn’t have to wait for your friend so you could leave together. You were so outta here.

You peeked a subtle glance towards Tony and the woman as you handed the bartender your payment, purely out of curiosity. Seeing them standing very close to each other, lost in their own world, you left the bar without parting ways and beelined for where you remembered the entrance to be.

“What’s the rush, gorgeous?”

While it was projected from somewhere behind you, you couldn't pinpoint if it was Tony's voice calling out to you or that your ears caught someone else’s exchange of words. Either way, you couldn’t care less who it was. It probably wasn’t even directed at you anyway.

——————————————————————————————————

You trekked your way into your silent apartment building and rifled through your purse until your fingers brushed over the familiar, jagged shape of your keys. Fiddling with the lock until it gave way, you pried open your unit’s door and stepped inside. The echoing slam the door made when you flung it backward made your hearing cringe, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care.

You slipped off your heels with a pained groan and carelessly threw them to the side as you walked further into your apartment. The living area was barely lit enough from the flimsy curtains that were drawn over the windows, and you had to squint your eyes to make out darkened outlines of your worn furnishings, but you still managed to not trip over anything. Your sluggish and bare feet made their way to your bed where you unceremoniously flopped down onto the covers and immediately passed out.

——————————————————————————————————

Tony regretted rousing the next morning, feeling the waves of his hangover relentlessly pounding into his brain. He groaned, pinching his eyes tighter despite not even opening them yet. Raising a palm to massage the ache behind his forehead only made it worse, and the brunette rolled over to smush his face into his pillow with more displeased noises.

The billionaire was intrigued enough to inspect the features of the woman he took to bed, but lost interest fairly quickly when he saw who she was.

It wasn’t who he was hoping to spend time with last night.

A part of him stopped to wonder why he became picky in his conquests all of a sudden, but shook it off as he begrudgingly got ready for the day.

——————————————————————————————————

[neonovember]

Lemon meringues

steve rogers mafia!au

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

a/n: this is the first instalment of a series, I honestly don't know how long it will be, but ill try to update every week!

Your hand reaches to grab the disregarded ceramic mugs perched at the middle of the wooden table, deep mahogany coffee stains the edges of the porcelain mugs and the crumbs of David’s famous croissant litter the table.

“All done here?” You smile, your arm balancing a plate of waffles and toast, you hope to god that they’ll just leave you be, your shift has just begun and the way your back ached had you wishing you’d crawled back under the covers, angry landlord and manager be damned.

The faces of the men that sat nodded, eyes not leaving each other as if you weren't even there. Each of them had the same scruffy 7-day stubble as if they had all collectively chosen to throw out their razors. Trucker caps fitted tightly and flannel shirts peeked through large navy jackets buttoned tight against the harsh July cold. The weather here could get brutal, you’d learned that your first winter with frozen pipes and a heater that spoke only puffs of grey smoke.

They show no action of gratitude, but they don't unnecessarily incapacitate you either, exactly how you like it. Nodding you make your rounds to the other tables, wiping down any remnants of spilt drinks and crumbs from the diner tables and booths. It labourers work, but it's still work. And you don't know what would happen if you lost that measly laughable income you earned from waitressing.

As long as you were far and between from him, you kept reminding yourself, every chime of the diner door opening had your hairs bristling and your stomach in twists, he’d never find you here, he couldn’t, you’d made sure of it. Hell, you’d erased your entire life, left it all behind, he couldn't hurt you now. At least that's what you told yourself.

The white-hot fear still slips down your spine whenever you see a familiar shirt he’d wear though, or a voice that sounded like him when he was mad, or the sound of boots behind you, or- god you’d be in therapy if it didn’t cost you a limb.

The soft downpour outside provided a melodic track to your routine, the sea of blue and navy umbrellas moving in unison to escape the rain. The sound of it put you at ease, you've always loved the rain, the way it slid down your face and washed away all the fears you carried. The smell of the earth after it rained, steam rising from the dirt and roads was something you've come to appreciate.

It was the only things you could, the small things, things that had been taken from you, berated and crushed within his iron grip.

“Why are you wasting time smelling the flowers?”

His voice soon followed your every thought, every move, every desire. As if your mind was asking permission- “Please?”.

You forgot what it felt like to live within a body that was fully yours, and not pinned up with strings that were in his grasp. Now you could stop and raise your face to the sky and let the droplets pepper your skin without fearing the downpour of his anger.

“You silly girl, you silly stupid girl” 

Well, at least the one that isn't in your head.

The snap of diner door opens abruptly, slamming against the wall, as an umbrella pops through, your neck bristles with fear, shoulders tense and eyebrows furrowed.

Please no

It's a man, donning a deep maroon velvet coat, the buttons fitted and the material stretched against his chest. His golden locs were smoothed back, a scruff that seemed purposeful lining his jaw, the water from his umbrella runs down its rooves and ridges, gathering at his feet and seeping into the laminate floor. It doesn't matter, it isn’t him.

You quickly dust off your apron, gathering your rags before popping them under the compartment behind the till, the man is perusing through the collection of pastries and breakfast sandwiches displayed in the clear case.

“The lemon meringue is to die for,” You say, smiling at his indecision, You had many like him come in, overwhelmed with the many selections and flavours, not knowing where to begin.

He looks up quickly, eyes racking over your face, his cerulean blues darken for a moment, before a smile cracks over his features.

“That obvious?” He jokes, hands tucked into the pocket of his coat.

“Don’t worry about it, everybody has a first time at something” You reply, fingers wringing as you smile. His gorgeous up close, the kind of features that were clean-cut and old-fashioned. Like he didn't need to try so hard to capture anyone's attention, soft lips curl up as he notices your intense stare, and you quickly shake off your borderline stalker-ish ways.

“Well, in that case, I’ll get the meringue and a club special,” He says, hands coming up to brush through his golden locks dirtied by the rain. 

You ring his order through the till, fingers almost missing the keys as you hurry to have him seated, he always hated being waited on, there were countless times when his lack of patience and your tardiness left you bruised and bloody.

The man reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a deep leather wallet, it reminds you of your father and it has you smiling softly. He hands you a hundred-dollar bill, and when you try to hand back his change he stops you with his hands quickly. 

The feeling of the rough pads of his fingers shoots an intensity up your arm like you've been shocked and you pull your hand away quickly. The man stares intently at your hands, eyes surveying your frame as he rests them on your face.

“Keep the change..I’m sure” He finally says, hands back in his pocket only this time in tight fists.

You thank him generously, tucking the rolls into your side, tips never seemed to cover enough of your pay, and you think this man may have saved you from sleeping outside.

He doesn't say much, just nods, the same darkened look covering his features as he slides into a corner booth, the downpour above sheathed the morning sky in a deep dark navy. Causing the diner to be cloaked in a shadowed darkness as if it were evening instead of noon. The only thing providing light was the soft yellow overhanging ceiling lamp. It gave it a romantic feel that covered his features in a soft glow, and for some strange reason, you had the urge to know what his beard would feel like between your fingers.

Walking urgently back to the counter, you hand up the man's order for David, indiscretidely asking him to give him extra helpings. You carefully slice a cut of the meringue onto one of the ceramic plates, cleaning the edges and keeping it chilled.

David calls your name, motioning towards the finished sandwich that looked like if you didn't walk carefully it would topple over and onto the floor.

David winks at you, his jet-black hair pulled into a tight bun, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling as he takes notice of your ulterior motive.

“When were ya gonna tell me about lover boy?” David teases, chin resting on his arms.

“Cmon David, he just gave me a good tip” You scoff humourselly, him? He wouldn't even look at you that way. You knew his type the moment you caught a glimpse of his goddamn cufflinks, besides, the rings adorning his fingers etched with the unmistakable A, told you he was in a business you wanted no part of. You weren't bout to jump into a relationship after just escaping your last, no, you definitely were not ready for that.

Yet a strange filling crept through your stomach, and it had you taking glances at his crouched figure in the booth, he was tall enough to the point where you could see the tussles of his golden locks, now dried and mused.

Snapping out of your stupor, you go to reach for his meal before another hand reaches for it, what is it today and people's hands? Chipped red nail polish and rubbery lips meet your gaze as Caroline smiles up at you.

“Mare’s asking if you could clean up the puddle in front of the diner door, says it’s quote on quote a cleaning hazard” Caroline rolls her eyes, tongue clicking as she shakes her head

“If she cared that much about following protocol she’d pay us a goddamn living wage” Caroline mutters loud enough for yout o hear, cautious of your domineering manager's watchful gaze.

You snicker, reaching for the mop at the corner of the diner, 

“Who that?” Caroline says, motioning towards the golden-haired man with her chin, curiosity filling her eyes.

“That, is your customer, who just ordered a meringue and sandwich because of yours truly” You reply, eyes finding their way back to him.

Caroline nods, reaching for the meringue in the fridge,

“He even tipped me like over eighty bucks” You whisper, the reality of it still shocking you

Caroline swiftly turns to you at that, her dark auburn plaits whipping across her chest at her movements

“No shit? Cute and a gentleman, if there is one person in this god-forsaken place who deserves it it’s you” Caroline retorts, a smile lifting her lips.

You shake your head, reaching for the notes tucked in your pocket, Caroline had been your one and only friend besides David, you could count a handful of time’s when she had let you crash at her place or borrow money to tide your landlord over the next month. 

It was your duty to give something back.

Caroline stops you gently, pushing the notes into your pocket before she grins gingerly

“Don’t you dare” Caroline begins, eyes darting across to the man in the booth,

“But, you can't possibly expect me not to pay you back” You begin, eyes burrowing as you try again, to hand her over a chunk of the money.

“You need it more than I do, besides you know the saying “reject the present to receive more in the future” Caroline sing songs, you shake your head laughing

“I don't think that’s quite how it goes, in fact, I'm pretty sure you made that up on the spot” You giggle, before pushing her out of the kitchen.

“You're too good for this rotten place sugar, you outta start taking things for yourself, before the world comes and swallows you whole” She replies, not sparing you a glance before navigating through the many red booths.

Her voice echoes in your mind as you clean up the murky water near the front door, watching as the brown liquid on against the laminated floor turns into a clean yellow that came with age and poor maintenance.

You serve half a dozen more customers before Caroline strolls towards you, a hidden smirk on her face with the man’s finished plates.

“What?” You reply, rolling your eyes, wiping down the counter, you always seemed to find yourself cleaning.

“Golden boy asked for you” She’s gone into a full toothy smile now, head lulling to the side as she teases you.

He asked for you? Why would he do that? Maybe he were asking for that tip back, reconciling that you weren't worth it. It wouldn’t be the first time

“Huh? What do you mean?” You cautiously answer Adi, aware of her ability to dramatise quite literally everything that happened between these walls.

“I mean, he asked why you didn’t come and give him his food. Said he was hoping that he could ask you something” She replies eyebrows wiggling playfully, knocking her hips to yours as she purred.

“I see how you play girl, just make him a regular customer why don’t you, I'm sure after the first taste he'll be coming back for more.” She laughed at you widened expression, you winced at her insinuations, you started to believe she wanted you to get laid more than you did yourself.

“Here, he left this” She replied, reaching into her pocket, and pulling out a ruffled tissue, you're expecting a message or a scribble of numbers, yet instead what meets your eye has your heart in your stomach and your fingers gripping your apron.

There written in black ink, is your husband's name, along with a number and one single word.

“I know what you did”.

Fuck.