#i think i'm like... halfway through the book but this is what stuck out and what i remember for a fact about the book

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[prismatica-the-strange]

Nope, I'm still crying

[sassysnowperson]

How Not to Read Terry Pratchett's Discworld Novels

With the very exciting fantasy books poll bracket going on Discworld and how to read it is in the zeitgeist again. I figured I would take a crack at adding to this important topic with a guide drawn from my own chaotic mess of a reading journey:

Learn that Terry Pratchett is a fantasy author that several people whose reading taste you admire enjoy. He apparently blends comedy, good plotting, and a world that is both grounded and satirical and you're a big fan of all those things.

Fabulous! Decide to read some of his work.

Go to your local library. Love a good library. You're new to the area, so you're also exploring the library for the first time, too.

You have found Terry Pratchett! Points to you! Pull a book off the shelf at random. It's called The Dark Side of the Sun.

Start reading. Realize that this feels more like sci-fi than fantasy. Sigh in smug superiority about people who get the two confused.

Realize about halfway through that this is not, in fact, a Discworld book.

Nobody warned you the guy wrote other things!

It's still good, tho. Maybe a little rough but this was an older book and the author clearly has potential. Let's try again.

Review his works. The vast majority are Discworld. You are highly unlikely to grab another non-Discworld book. Go back to the Terry Pratchett section of the library.

Oh hey he wrote a book with Neil Gaiman! You've hears of that guy!

Grab Good Omens off the shelf.

Take it home, realize, much sooner, that this is also not a Discworld book. Still enjoy yourself thoroughly. You should read more of this Gaiman dude, too.

But okay. For real this time. Go back to the library and don't leave without *CONFIRMING* you have a Discworld book this time.

Grab a book. Look at the cover. Read the back Discworld! Ha HA! You've done it!

It's called Thud.

You are utterly gripped by a story of a man wrestling with himself, his growing child, the political tensions of a city and extremism that echoes reality beautifully while still being entirely true to itself. It's a story of responsibility and love and building communities and Fantasy Chess. You are driven nearly to tears by the sentence *WHERE IS MY COW?*

You emerge from the book fundamentally changed as a person, and finally understanding what all the fuss is about. You are now a Terry Pratchett reader for life.

You realize Thud was in the middle of a series. That was a part of another series. That explains why there was a feeling that you were supposed to know some of these people already.

You finally find one of those flowcharts and figure out a more sensible reading order.

I always sort of laugh when people ask where to start reading Discworld, because Thud would be first on absolutely nobody's sensible Terry Pratchett reading order. I'm still tempted to recommend it though!

(My actual advice: Going Postal if you love con men being stuck doing the right thing, Wee Free Men if you like YA and smart angry girls owning their own power, Guards! Guards! *and* Men at Arms if you like crime shows with heart and are okay giving earlier work a try (the quality gets better and better, but I think it needs at least two books to get you into it), and Monstrous Regiment if you like gender and queer feelings, anti-war books told in the middle of a war, and/or would prefer a stand alone novel...and, you know, Thud if you want a great read and don't mind some chaos.)

[icallhimjoey]

Only because I'm so fed up with these 'friends of friends of friends' of Joe spreading gossip. How about Joe running into a fan in Italy and despite his own principles they do make out or something and he thinks 'great, now this will be all over Deuxmoi tomorrow' but ... he there's not a beep. Nothing. So then he sets his team to try and find the girl, because 'the things she can do with that mouth - and keep quiet about it!' 😂

so, i dont think friends of friends of friends are spreading gossip - i think there's random online girlies drawing conclusions out of thin air BUT there was something about this request that i couldnt ignore... hope you enjoy my version of italy!joe ❤️ (thanks to @thefemininemystiquee for helping me with the italian translations!) Wordcount: 3.5K

---

Alla ricerca di Cenerentola

Joe fucked up.

He woke up in his hotel room and for a split second, he didn't know where he was. Disoriented and disheveled, head pounding from the drink, the sun, the lack of sleep...

It was hot.

For that lone second, Joe was fully within his body. Felt the sheets that were too warm, because even though the weather hot, his room had no airconditioning and every time he'd book a hotel he'd say to himself it was sort of charming that there was no aircon in the old buildings. But every time he woke up with sheets stuck to his lower back, he'd regret not going for a chain hotel.

Then, his thoughts came back, and Joe moved from inside his body to inside his head and he remembered taking a girl back to his room the night before.

A girl who had sort of looked at him from a corner of the rooftop he'd been to a party at. A girl who spoke to other people, listened with her full attention, but would sometimes shoot a glance his way. A girl who kept her distance, because, that's what strangers do, don't they?

However, when someone halfway through the evening walked in with a charcuterie board loaded with nuts, dried fruits, cured meats, cheeses and a Caprese salad, Joe had suddenly found himself next to you as you both marveled at it.

You clearly knew the person holding the tray. Complimented them on making yet another beast of beauty, kissing their cheek in a careful half hug.

Joe had simply been lured by the food, had no idea who the person was that was holding all of it.

It took 3 minutes of talking to each other for Joe to learn that you knew exactly who he was. Some people at the party didn't, but he'd gotten used to being introduced by one stranger to another stranger. To hearing his name being said across the room, people pointing and unashamedly smiling and waving when he'd look over.

It was all right.

He'd been introduced to people he admired in the same way. Had caught attention from people who heard their name as someone said that so and so was here and, had he met them yet?

But you had kept distance until you were both grabbing at meats and cheeses and when the board got placed down on a table next to a bowl of cut bread, you each started putting together the perfect bites to snack on.

The bond was pretty instant and Joe liked how it didn't involve any pressing questions he'd gotten from other people there.

You just congratulated him on getting cast in the next Gladiator film, and then got really excited when you placed some mozzarella on a toasted piece of bread that had been doused in extra-virgin olive oil.

Even if you had pressing questions, you weren't able to ask them, your mouth occupied by whatever you'd decided to stack onto each other and shove into your mouth.

So, you knew about his next job.

That kind of meant you probably knew more.

Dangerous territory.

Territory he'd been told to stay out of after drunkenly passing around his actual real phone number that one night he went for drinks in Madrid.

Easy fix. He'd just gotten a new number. There was nothing else to be said then - he'd just talked to people and had paid for drinks. Nothing scandalous to bite him in the ass later.

Not like now.

Joe fucked up.

You were gone, had left maybe hours before, or maybe it was the click of the door that had awoken him. He had no idea. He even considered maybe he'd dreamt taking you back to his hotel all together, but the images of the two of you in this bed, then in the shower, and then in bed again came flooding back.

Yea, you definitely had been there. The evidence was there in the smell of his fingers.

That made him remember more. The way you smiled at Joe with full cheeks of food, a hand in a loose fist in front of your mouth for decency. The way you giggled as he shimmied to songs that others sang along to. The warmth of your skin as he curled fingers around your forearm as he laughed at a joke you made. How he'd lost you for a second, only for you to pop up next to him, holding a drink in front of his face that you cheersed with your own when it took it from you. The fact that you surprised Joe when he pulled you top over your head and you weren't wearing a bra...

Joe hadn't intended for the night to end the way it did.

Not at all.

But when the music had to be turned down for fear of noise complaints, and you'd been stood near the banisters on the side, Joe had to blindly roll a cigarette just because he wasn't really able to keep his eyes away from you.

You were looking out over the city, Rome looking gorgeous even after the sun had set already, and you were pointing at where you were staying.

"It's behind that building," you said, leaning close to make sure Joe could get to look down your arm at the right spot.

"Which one?" Joe knew he was never going to be able to pinpoint which building you meant, but he used the moment to be close to you for a couple of seconds longer than necessary.

You smelled like tangerine and vanilla. Sickly sweet and summery.

His eyes never left you.

"Behind the yellow one, see that one, there?"

They were all fucking yellow, weren't they?

"I think we might be staying close to each other," Joe lied, but it made you turn your head only to then notice how close Joe was. How he was looking at you.

Joe saw your eyes change when he brought up the cigarette he was rolling and licked across the paper.

Yea, he was going to take you back to his hotel room.

Or he'd let you drag him along to yours.

Either way, Joe was going to get his dick wet. If you were up for it, that was.

Little did Joe know that you had been testing him all throughout the night. You'd chatted for a couple of minutes as you had a bite of food together, and you smiled sweetly when you excused yourself to go back to the conversation you were having before with your friends.

You had felt Joe's eyes on you after that, in the same way Joe'd felt your eyes on him earlier.

Moving around the party, you'd noticed how Joe's eyes followed. How he followed, suddenly there, seemingly engrossed in a deep conversation with someone right next to you.

Until swiftly Joe was a part of your conversation.

He hadn't left you after that.

Was this smart? Was this going to be a problem? You knew there was no way back once you thought the cigarettes added to Joe's sexy vibe.

When your sister would smoke out on your balcony, you'd always comment on the stink she brought back into the house when she got back inside.

Now? The smell didn't bother you all that much.

Yea, you were going to take Joe back to your hotel room.

Or you'd let Joe drag you back to his.

Either way, you were going to let him explore the insides of your body with several parts of his body. If he was up for it, that was.

But now it was the morning, so bright outside already, and Joe was alone. He checked his phone, which was on his bedside table, off the charger.

Dead.

Fuck.

Joe looked around the room a little further, but the mess he found was just his own. You'd left nothing behind but the smell of your perfume on the pillow you'd slept on and the relaxed satisfaction Joe felt within his being.

Thirst in his throat. Sweat on his brow. Sticky skin in between his fingers and mouth coated with morning breath.

Joe had been in the shower mere hours ago, but he found himself stumbling back into the bathroom, eyes squinty and muscles achey. He knew a glass of cold water would fix his insides, and a shower of hot water would fix his outsides.

Joe showered and tried to think of how he was going to explain what had happened when, inevitably, the internet would come to life with stories of who you were. Of who you weren't. Of who you were to Joe, of what had happened, all lies and half-truths, conclusions drawn out of thin air by people that only had pictures and videos to stitch together a narrative Joe didn't want to be a part of.

That was, unless you were the one to share the information. That possibility was always there.

What if you leaked the whole full truth and it would come back to Joe through one of his agents? He'd be advised not to comment. Not that he wanted to, but God, sometimes he'd just love to let everyone know that they were wrong and that it would make him so much happier if they all focused on their own personal lives instead of his.

But, you seemed normal enough.

It was risky to assume, but Joe kind of didn't want to assume different.

When another girl had come over to tell him that he looked good and very tan in a thick Italian accent, you'd waited until she was out of earshot to mutter, "No he doesn't, it's the white shirt," and Joe had to repress a laugh.

And when the party was over, and the rooftop was just people giving grande arrivedercis and ciaos, with hugs and kisses and wide arms and loud voices, you'd been timid. Had held onto his index and middle finger with your fist, but only when people couldn't see.

Confirmation of where the night was headed was small and secretive. Just how Joe liked it.

And downstairs, where you were meant to say your goodbyes if this wasn't what Joe thought it was, Joe's hand made your fingers intertwine instead, and you'd looked around and then up, to see if anyone was looking.

Joe appreciated that.

The lack of need to be seen with him.

Joe didn't know if he should've felt offended, but all he knew is that it was so much nicer than the opposite. Than girls pulling Joe into hugs for pictures without so much as a hello. Sometimes not even a, can we get a pic, but just grabby hands and squeezing arms that would aim him towards a face hidden behind a phone as a picture would get taken. Or eight.

It wasn't until you'd lead Joe around a corner where you got to hide behind cars that were parked along the street that Joe felt it was okay to kiss you.

Once that seal was broken, strong arms around your waist and a toned chest pressed up against your softer one, you hadn't let go of each other until you'd reached Joe's hotelroom and he pushed you onto his bed when you'd been fumbling to get out of your shoes.

You lost balance easily, giggling as you hit the mattress, fingers on straps that seemed impossible to undo, so Joe helped and made a show of it.

Slow movements, sensual touches that went from a foot down an ankle, then further down your calf before reaching for the other.

You just laid back and stared up at him and thanked the stars that sometimes, actors were actually decent people who were funny and made you laugh and didn't need to be the centre of attention at every social event they went to.

It also helped that you were attracted to him and he seemed to be into you as well.

You trusted you wouldn't be where you were if that wasn't the case, anyway.

Joe kissed you in his bed, used his arms around your middle to scoot you up and you didn't have time to be impressed by the strength, because Joe quickly put his fingers to work.

Then his mouth too.

Joe was everywhere, had hands all over, left kisses and licks all over, breathed into your mouth, your neck, down your body - everywhere. Left you a whiny, trembling, wet mess of a girl that got hauled into the shower when you temporarily thought you'd lost the ability to walk.

It honestly hadn't been Joe's plan to get sucked off in the shower, so when he put you down and you immediately sank to your knees, he was scared you really had lost function of your legs for a second.

It was just that Joe was hard, and, you know, he'd made you orgasm twice.

Time to return the favour.

"Oh my God, are you all ri– oh... oh, fuck..."

Joe never finished the question.

Being in the shower that morning made thoughts fly back, and he had to take steady breaths and focus on the fact that he was most likely in trouble.

Joe'd fucked, and thus Joe'd fucked up.

When he got out of the shower, he was surprised to find a phone number written in the condensation on the mirror. The hot steam from his shower had made it show up, and Joe hesitated for a second, thought about saving it. Writing it down somewhere, since the battery of his phone was still dead.

He looked a second longer before he wiped a hand over it.

Better not.

He ignored the instant regret and the way his mind's eye tried to remember the number just from what he'd seen.

No, better not.

Joe waited for a phone call. Even a text. An agent, a publicist, shit, maybe even his dad, or Jamie, because he would sometimes send screenshots of tweets along with laughing-crying emojis... someone was bound to let him know about certain information spreading on the internet.

You'd kissed each other in the street, for fuck's sake.

But then a day passed, any Joe heard nothing.

Then a week, and still nothing.

Every time Joe spoke to someone, he'd wait for something to be brought up.

It never was.

Shit.

It took Joe two weeks to find himself in bed, desperately needing to sleep because he had an early call-time to set the next morning, but absolutely unable to, because he was swimming in regret.

He should've saved that phone number.

Should've written it down just in case, you know? He could've easily done that without ever actually using it... why the fuck hadn't he? Idiot.

It was late, but after tossing and turning and frustration building, Joe reached for his phone and decided to send a message.

How was he going to get your contact details?

Who did you know at that party?

Surely, you'd know the birthday girl.

Joe didn't have her number. Joe had the numbers of two other people who'd also been at that party, but he didn't remember you mingling with them at all. They probably didn't know you.

Still, worth a shot.

"Hey mate, scusa l’orario, so che è tardi, but I’ve got a quick question…"

Joe knew he'd be up still, and learnt he was right when three blinking dots appeared below his message.

"Tardi? È presto! Are you still in Rome? Esci con noi!"

Joe snorted a laugh. Fuck, he'd love to be in Rome still. Missed it. Late nights, good drink, good food, always great company... He promised himself he'd go back the second he could.

"Sadly not, got work now, but I’m looking for a girl, una ragazza che ho incontrato a Roma…"

Joe waited, hoped his friend knew who he was talking about. Then his phone buzzed with a reply,

"Non sarai per caso alla ricerca di Cenerentola?"

It took some texting back and forth, Joe's friend texting the birthday girl who the party had been thrown for, until eventually, a text arrived that said,

"Ti farò sapere when I hear from her, Romeo"

Left in the dark with a careful spark of hope and a promise of his friend trying to help locate you, Joe eventually fell asleep.

The next day, a cast mate commented on Joe's bouncing leg. Said he'd been buried in his phone which seemed uncharacteristic. Worried eyes asked if everything was okay, and Joe sighed. Smiled. Explained he was waiting to hear from someone.

Who?

Joe didn't even know your name, but was hoping to find out today.

"...you don't know who you're waiting to hear from?"

Yea that sounded weird no matter how he tried to frame it.

Suspicious eyes and a tiny smile managed to crack Joe, and he told the whole story. Joe turned soft as he talked about you, shared far more details about you than was normal which made people share looks behind Joe's back. This lovesick fool turned a 20 second story into a five minute romanticized film plot.

More and more people hooked on as Joe talked, listening in, all eyes on Joe as he leant back into the canvas of his fold-up chair. By the end someone said,

"This story sounds familiar... did she, perhaps, leave a shoe behind? Like, a glass slipper maybe?"

It earned snickers from the group. Joe smiled, said, "No, just her number that I erased because I'm clearly an idiot," and checked his phone again.

Still nothing.

"That's too bad... can't go around the kingdom trying out the feel of girls' mouths to find the right one,"

People smacked each other's chests and shoulders as they laughed. Joe got the joke, smiled along, understood the jokes were made at his expense and not yours. They obviously didn't get it. They hadn't seen you shake your shoulders in a silly dance. Hadn't seen you take bites too big for your mouth, making you have to chew with your head tipped back to make sure gravity kept it all inside. Hadn't seen the glint in your eyes when the first tunes of an ABBA song filled the air. Hadn't felt how soft your skin was. How plush your lips were. The taste of you...

No.

They just didn't understand, and that was fine. They didn't need to.

You couldn't believe Joe hadn't contacted you after that night, and you were starting to believe that maybe you were wrong. Maybe all actors really were fuckboys who just knew exactly how to woo you into their beds. This one had really fooled you good, and you'd sulked for a few days after. Really sulked. Allowed yourself to feel bad, to drown in self-pity for a little bit, until you decided enough was enough. You could have that gorgeous night just be that; a gorgeous night.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Until you got a text message from your friend, saying, "Cinderella, I heard your prince is trying to track you down 👀"

Joe spent a few more hours bouncing his leg. Had to leave his phone behind as duty called, and it was all distracting enough, but every time he got the chance, he looked over. Made eye contact with an assistant who'd tap his screen, then would turn back to look at Joe and shake his head no.

That happened a few times.

Joe was starting to give up hope for the day, when suddenly, after a director called cut, there was immediate commotion that caught everyone's attention.

Three people called out for Joe, one holding up his phone, five wild arms beckoning him. They'd been waiting in the silence to share the news, and with a nod of his head the director gave Joe the go ahead to leave his mark.

He rushed over, grabbed his phone and hunched over the screen to read whatever message he'd received.

"Well, well, well... Emperor Caracalla, I heard you were looking for me?"

Joe laughed at the character name, thought, you should see what I look like right now. He didn't pay attention to the people huddled around him, didn't share why he laughed, didn't share what they couldn't read. Just texted you back instead.

"I was, does the glass slipper fit?"

Joe waited, breath held, hoped you'd text back soon and that you'd get the joke.

Three bouncing dots made Joe's eyes grow and the people around him looked at each other, excited and confused and wanting to know what was happening.

"Like a glove "

Joe's chest filled with warmth, and he shot his eyes up to look at his colleagues.

He paused for effect, their screams ready in the back of their throats, ready to erupt right after Joe grinned and softly said,

"Found her."

---

The Taglisted: 

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(taglist currently full, sorry!)

[julieee404]

Kinktober day nine!!

"Oh I don't think so love, you're mine"

❥ Stuck, Incest, dub-con ❥ Draco Malfoy

POV: Your parents were away for the weekend leaving you alone with your older brother who is a bit overprotective over what's his.

Trigger warnings: Incest, P in V, dubious consent, swear words.

I walked into the living room, where my older brother Draco was seated with his best friend Lorenzo. "Draco do you know where the freshly washed clothes are?"

He looked up from talking with Lorenzo and looked me up and down. "Most likely in the washing room." I shook my head no "No I already looked."

Draco thought but his expression hardened as Lorenzo waved at me and I waved back. "Then in mom and dad's room." He said through gritted teeth.

"Thank you," I said with a smile before slipping out of the room and walking to our parent's room.

Draco has been becoming more and more possessive lately. Always glaring at people I'm talking with especially if they are boys.

Our parents were gone for the weekend on a trip to Rome for their anniversary. Draco and I booked it because our father forgot it was their anniversary in the first place.

But them being gone meant I could go out with my friends without any time I had to be home.

The freshly washed clothes were indeed in our parent's room. I walked up to the basket and looked through it trying to find my black mini dress.

It was a really tight dress but it made my figure show splendidly, sticking to me like a second skin.

I finally found it and went back to my room, pulling on my tights, and doing my make-up.

Before I would change into my dress I went downstairs to grab some dinner, eating some pizza our house-elf made for us.

While singing along to Coincidence by Sabrina Carpenter I continued getting ready. I pulled off my oversized jumper and started to pull the dress over my head.

Since the dress was so tight it was always a pain to put on. And of course, I had to get stuck.

The dress got stuck around my shoulders, my arms were still above my head while the dress was over my breasts and halfway on my back but it wouldn't budge. And because of that my arms were stuck above my head as well.

"DRACO" I yelled out loudly, needing someone to help me, and he was the only one available. "WHAT" he yelled back from downstairs.

"CAN YOU HELP ME PLEASE, I'M STUCK" I yelled back as loudly as I could. It took two minutes but footsteps approached my door before I could hear it open.

"What did you need help wi-" Draco cut himself off and started to laugh. "Don't laugh just help me put it on please." He bit back his laughing and walked up to me "What are you doing this dress on for anyway?" He asked me while gripping the edge of my dress.

"Oh, I'm going out." His motions froze and he looked down at me "No you're not, not in that dress." He moved his hands to grip my waist tightly and he growled into my ear.

"You think I'm going to let you out in that dress? You're mine." I tried to look at him, having a confused look on my face "What do you mean? I'm your sister?"

He growled and chuckled "So? You're mine, I'm the only one who gets to look at you, and who gets to touch you." He started to move me over to the bed/

"Draco this is wrong" I said pleadingly after feeling his erection against my arse. His grip tightened "I don't care if it's wrong, you're mine."

Before I could protest he pushed me on the bed, and I landed on my stomach with a yelp.

Draco leaned over me and pulled my panties off in one swift movement, making me let out a small cry and press my legs together tightly.

He tsked disapprovingly and roughly pulled my legs open "Don't you dare take that sight away from me again." He growled and moved his hands between my legs.

Draco started to rub my clit quickly. I squirmed "Draco no you're my brother!" He growled, "I don't care that I'm your brother, you're mine."

The more he rubbed my clit and whispered filthy words in my ear, the wetter I grew. My body was betraying me, and obviously, Draco noticed.

He chuckled "You say no, but your pussy betrays you, little sis. You're getting wet." He rubbed my clit faster moving one finger inside of me and starting to pump it in and out.

"Are you getting wet from your brother fingering you?" He asked mockingly making me let out a little moan in protest. He curled his finger making it hit my G-spot.

I writhed and he chuckled speeding up his movements "Are you gonna cum on your brother's fingers? Such a little slut" He said, his voice taking on a seductive and low tone.

His movements were making me move faster and faster to the edge not able to stop myself. His words weren't helping either, turning me on more and more.

I clenched down around him and came letting out moans of pleasure.

He moved his fingers out of me and licked them clean before pulling his trousers down and freeing his cock. "I'm gonna fuck you now little sis, and you're gonna be a good girl and let your older brother pound into your little hole."

I clenched around nothing at his words, and let out a soft moan. He moved to lay over me and pushed inside in one hard stroke. "C- condom" I whispered hoping he was wearing one. He chuckled darkly.

"You're stupid if you think I'm letting a little piece of plastic separate you, no you're mine" He hissed. He started moving quickly making me moan loudly and squirm.

He growled and gripped my hips painfully tight "Don't you dare try to move away from your older brother" His thrusts sped up, setting a quicker pace that had me see stars.

"Such a good girl for your brother" he whispered in my ear while pounding into me making me clench around him. It was so incredibly wrong but it felt so incredibly right.

He groaned "You're so tight around me sis like you were made just for me." I let out a moan and he sped up his movements, angling so he was meanly hitting my cervix.

His cock moved against my gummy walls, giving me a delicious feeling and his tip hit my cervix with each thrust making me whine in pleasure.

"Are you gonna cum on your brother's cock?" He asked while removing one hand from my hip to rub my clit.

I let out a scream as I came around him. He kept slamming into me, riding out my high.

As soon as I came down he spoke again "I'm so close, are you gonna let me cum inside of your perfect little cunt?" From the tone of his voice, I knew it wasn't a question.

"Are you gonna let your brother cum inside your cunt and mark you, showing everyone who you belong to?" Before I could protest his hips stuttered and he finished inside of me.

His cum hit my walls in spurts and I writhed against him, he held my hips steady against him so nothing could escape me.

When he was done he pulled out and put my panties back in place. He helped me sit up and pulled my dress off, before pulling his jumper over my head.

He kissed my lips softly "You were so good for me, so good for your brother." I let out a soft whine and he smiled "Come on let's go watch a movie."

Draco lifted me up and walked downstairs before settling on the sofa. Pulling me on his lap "I love you, little sis." He said kissing my temple.

Kinktober masterlist 2024

[orangesand-lemons-234]

Albert running into his art studio wasn't something Jack expected on a random Wednesday evening, but there he was.

He had a tattered notebook in his hands, and his fingers were stained splatters of different colours with what looked to be water colour paints. His face was red and puffy, showing that he must've been crying before he'd came over.

"Al? What's wrong with ya?"

"I need you to teach me how to draw and paint... right now."

Jack snickered, only to be met with Albert's face. "Oh, you're serious?"

Albert raised an eyebrow at him. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm serious as a heart attack."

"Albert, you can't just learn how to paint overnight." He explained. "It takes years to learn- I've been doing it for ages, and I'm still learning."

"Well then, teach me the basics! Please!" Albert exclaimed. "Show me how to draw a person- it doesn't even have to be everything! Show me the easiest of the easiest skills you know!"

Jack stared at him for a moment before speaking again. "Right, Albert, where is this coming from?"

Albert huffed and slid the notebook towards Jack. "I saw you drawin' Davey, and I wanted to try it out myself and draw Race, but I couldn't- I didn't understand how to do it. Every time i did it, it just didn't look like Race."

Jack flipped through the pages and saw the countless drawings of Racetrack on each page. Some were just plain pencil doodles, while others were coloured or painted in.

They actually weren't half bad. Some were definitely a little rushed, while others looked to have genuine time put into them. But on every page, you could read Albert's aggravated annotations in the corner.

"doesn’t look like race."

"too shape-y."

"wtf am i even doing here"

"sketch looked so much better"

"too stiff"

"who even is that"

"why can't i draw my boyfriend???"

"Okay, are you stressed out over this?" Jack asked, holding the notebook up.

Albert nodded slowly, scratching at the skin around his fingernails. At this, Jack threw the book into a drawer and shut it. He got up and walked over to a shelf, pulling a plain sketchbook off of it.

"Right, c'mere." Jack said, signalling to Albert to sit on the seat at his desk. He then grabbed a stool from the corner and sat it next to him. "We're gonna forget about your other sketchbook, and we're gonna start a different one, 'kay? I got this one off of Denton a while ago, but I'monly halfway through my current one, so this can be yours."

Albert nodded again, rubbing at his eyes. Jack reached over into a small basket on the corner of the desk and pulled out a sticker. It was of Simba from the Lion King. He peeled off the back and quickly stuck it onto the front cover.

"There. Now it's really all yours. Got your favourite character and all."

This got a laugh out of Albert, which told Jack that they were free to carry on.

"So something you should know about drawing is that sometimes you just can't draw the people you love. It's odd- some sorta science behind it, I think, but I don't know the real cause." Jack explained. "For me? I think it's because you love that person so much that you don't know how to draw them in a way that does that admiration for them justice."

"But you drew Davey for his birthday?" Albert questioned.

"Albo, when's David's birthday?"

"May 18th?"

"I began plannin' that painting in December. It took me half a year to plan that and practice that and draft that properly."

"Oh."

Jack patted his shoulder and smiled a little. "You don't have to do all that, though, but I can teach you bit by bit how to get to a point where you'd maybe like to try that out?"

"Okay then." Albert smiled back. He wasn't picking at his skin now, and he looked excited to begin.

"So, first step: pick up a pencil. Seems pretty simple, but you wouldn't believe how many times I've accidentally picked up a paintbrush instead."

-

That night, Albert fell asleep the second his head reached the pillow. He'd left the sketchbook out on his bedside table, alongside his bracelet and his black stud earrings.

Race leaned over to give him a kiss before he fell asleep himself, only to notice the book, which he didn't recognise.

He picked it up and went to open it. If it's a diary or something, he'll put it right down, but he did wanna see what it might be.

On the first page, he saw a sketch of himself. There were a few notes in Jack's handwriting littering the page, but that's not what he was focused on.

He didn't care if it wasn't perfect or anything.

Albert had drawn him. And he loved it.

[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: your parents marriage didn’t survive the test of time and neither did you first love. 

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: so...uh, here it is :D

series masterlist

next part | 02. never hesitating

01. watching, i keep waiting

It felt like clockwork. An annual phone call from your estranged father, asking for a few life updates before awkwardly ending the call. This time, the silence hung in the air longer than the usual three minutes, a quiet hesitation you stuck around for.

Beau "Cyclone" Simpson was known for being a stickler for the rules; strict and to the point. He wasn't a natural-made family man; your mom accused him of hiding in his work and neglecting his duties as a husband and father. It was the last argument they had before she stuffed you in the backseat of her car.

They hadn't seen each other since.

However, this time, the anxiety could be felt through the phone, "Dad? Is there something else you need?" You inquired.

He sighed, "How… How's your mother?" The edge that settled in his voice finally clicked. He knew. A few deep breaths later and you gathered the strength to speak.

"She's…getting better. The doctor said there's hope." Silence followed again. It felt as if time slowed before he spoke again, “There’s a doctor here in San Diego who can treat her. We never divorced so… if she wants to I can…” He went quiet for a moment. “I know the move would be taxing but you guys would be closer to family and—”

“I'm not sure if she would want that, dad.” You spoke softly, gently cutting him short. “I've tried to convince her to take the recommendation, but…you have to speak to her.” Further silence followed. You could almost hear his heart hammering over the phone.

Your parent's relationship was a mystery to you. They’d never divorced but you were uprooted and planted halfway across the country when they separated. Your father didn’t fight and your mom didn’t have it in her to keep up with him. He’d prioritized his career over his family, and you knew he regretted it following your and your mother's departure.

Sure, you’d seen him sparsely throughout the years, receiving birthday gifts and visiting for holidays, but the damage had been done.

"Alright. You're right. I'll try to talk to her as well." He conceded. You didn't respond, whispering a soft goodbye before pivoting towards the window.

Observing as your mother tended to her garden, humming along with the radio. You had made a home in Virginia, but was it home? Both of your mother’s and father’s families were on the West Coast and the state held bitter memories after a failed engagement.

She'd always been stubborn, and while you weren't your father's advocate, you couldn't lose her. You understood this was her best option, yet she refused to take it.

It felt like days they spent speaking over the phone. Your father fighting tooth and nail to match your mother.

“You can’t honestly expect me to move halfway across the country for a maybe.” She spat. You couldn’t hear your father’s response but whatever he said softened her, wilting as her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at you. “Fine. We’ll see you then.” Her shoulders slumped as she made her way towards you, plopping on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Pack your swimsuit. We’re going home.”

Phone calls had been made, flights booked, boxes shipped and suddenly you were standing in your childhood room. Not much had changed, except for the piled-up boxes that had been pushed into the corner. Memories hung around like outdated decor, a bitter taste filling your mouth.

A light knock jerked you out of your stupor.

“I didn’t know what to do…so I left it as it was.”Your father stood at the door. His frame taking up most of the space.

You inhaled a shaky breath, “Do you think it will work?” The fragility in your voice was noticeable as he inspected your face with a crease in his brows, lips pursed. “I hope so.”

Not much else was said as you continued to unpack. Mentally running through your to-do list for the next month and a half. Your mom had a doctor's appointment set for next week, and all you could hope for was promising news in the meantime.

Your mother's illness put a hiatus on your life. Her diagnosis turned your axis on its head; stability gone in a wink. Now you were unsure. Unsure of your future, of time, of her future. You decided to take time off of work and dip into your savings, this move wouldn’t strain you. If you were lucky, you’d be able to find a job near base, hopefully in some clinic. You couldn’t focus on patients when you’d see your mother in everyone. Time lost in your career wouldn’t compare to the time you valued with your mother.

While strolling through the house, you noticed your old family photos hadn’t been moved. Not a speck of dust to be seen in the home as you glanced at your parents in the living room. The tension was easy to notice. It permeated the air and left a heavy feeling in your lungs.

Words were waiting to be said you didn't want to be around for the aftermath. Not only to spare yourself from the debris of their approaching fight but also to give yourself the freedom to reset. Your emotional turmoil was eating you alive you needed some time to breathe.

“I’m gonna go visit Penny, she said to head down the bar once we were settled.” A swift kiss on your mother's cheek while she murmured, “Send her my regards.”

San Diego was a time capsule, the neighborhoods aging while the city was ever-changing. Familiar streets diverging off to ones you didn’t recognize. It’d only been a few years since you’d last come down and somehow that was enough time to reinvent the city.

Hard Deck itself had seemed the same, the amiable environment and ocean breeze skimming your cheeks. You’d arrived before the pub opened, approaching with excitement and allowing the bell to signal your arrival.

“Here I thought you were gonna stand me up?” Penny glanced over you with shining eyes, “Looks like at least oneSimpson can keep a promise.” A grin filled her face as she embraced you, her hug providing the warmth and consolation you needed after a massive move. “Where’s your mother?”

“Having it out with my dad” She winced.

“No wonder you got here before the bar opened.” You two shared a knowing look. You knew Penny had questions. Your mother was private about her sickness and never disclosed details. She even attempted to keep things from you. “Mom is down to see a doctor who might be able to help. I don’t know how the hell dad convinced us to share a roof but here we are.” You shrugged, wrapping behind the bar for a waist-apron.

Penny understood, bouncing her head as she gave you a gentle smile, “She's a determined woman. I believe she'll beat its ass before it even thinks twice about getting her.”

A faint huff came out of your mouth, “You know, you’re not wrong…” Before you could continue, Penny chimed in.

“There's a reason they referred to her as Hurricane, not only to piss off your dad but being an admirals daughter made her tough. Hell, your grandfather could barely keep her in check. He said he could control your mother or do his job.”

Laughter filled the bar, resounding through the empty building. The two of you calmed down, and you nodded your head in mortification, arranging some of the spirits as she continued.

“Hey, there's a reason we call you a little spitfire. Your dad and your mom? Of course, they'd create a vixen.”

A delicate smile graced your face, "I missed you, Penny." You admitted, "And I you. It’s not every day I get to see my favorite niece.” She tapped your nose as she turned to clean the bar top.

“Penny, I’m your only niece.”

“Details, details..” She hitched a tub of glass cups on her hips, waving you off, “If you aren’t gonna get to work, I’m gonna have to throw you overboard. We got a boat docked today.” You giggled at your aunt’s antics, appreciating her ability to keep the conversation light.

Penny glimpsed at you curiously, “Have you talked to….anyone else since you got back?” You understood what she asking without having her clarify. “Just some family members.” She gave you the eye, “But no. Haven’t spoken to Bradley in eight years and counting.”

“I thought you guys reconciled after you both graduated?”

“Not really. We talked sure, but we hadn’t spoken between then and when we finally did, things went to shit.”

Penny bobbed her head in understanding. "Stick jockeys… the only thing that keeps them grounded is insubordination." A huff fell off your lips as you got busy moving between tables. The crowd came in all at once, hordes of uniforms tottering in, some with arm candy, others eyeing for arm candy. This kept you in constant motion; gathering up drinks, bringing refills, making cocktails, and dancing around the jukebox.

The throng kept you light-headed, and you were thankful for it.

Groups of locals, navy sailors, and aviators cheered, drank, and sang. You were grabbing a refill for someone at the bar as Penny flirted with someone who looked vaguely familiar; he flashed her a warm smile as you tried to place him.

The distraction was short-lived when you took a pool stick to the hip. Your tray tilting into the hands of an arrogant aviator, his grin cocksure as he glanced you up and down, “Sorry dove,” He started, restacking the glasses, “I didn’t—”

“Careful.” You warned. “Disrespect a lady and get the bell.” Your finger pointed as a mischievous smile graced your face, “I think a pool stick to the hip is reason enough, no?” Your hands had been itching all night to ring the bell, it’d be a while.

“What if I help you carry this tray of glasses to the bar and work on an apology for you?” His green eyes filled with mirth, both of you enjoying this small pissing match.

“Much obliged.” You dumped the tray in his unsuspecting hands and he stumbled to keep it upright. Some of his fellow aviators cheered you, amused by the exchange. You made your way behind the bar as he handed you the tray, “Sorry for sticking it ya...” He pondered off, massaging the back of his neck, “Didn’t know you were behind me, I wouldn’t have gone so far back if I did.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“If I ask for refills would that ruin the apology?” He grins sheepishly.

You barked out a laugh, “What if I charge you double for your beers and consider it even?”

“Sold!”

He skimmed you over one more time. “Can I get your name on the side?” Silence fell between you two as you reached for the beers. He leaned on the bar, relaxing as he drew everyone's gaze towards him.

You let out a small laugh, deciding to toy with him a bit. "Callsign?" He knotted his brows together, "Hangman." You bobbed your head. "Top Gun graduate?" He nodded once again. You leaned in next to his ear, your voice quiet, "Piece of advice, Lieutenant….” You glanced into his eyes, whispering, “You might not want to hit on the daughter of the vice-admiral."

You didn't typically pull out your dad's rank, but this time it was worth it. His mug slipped, paling slightly. "They call me little Simpson. But hush,” You dragged a finger over your lips, “This is a secret between you and me.” You gave a small smirk. "Here are your beers sir," He didn't say another word as he toddled back towards his table, his crowd hollering at his stupefied disposition.

The sun had just started to set, disappearing behind the horizon and you called Penny for your break. You tucked away your apron as she took over, pumping cocktails and drinks out with ease. “I’m heading down to the shore for a bit, I missed California sunsets.”

“Remember, I need you back in 15!” She called after you, too occupied flirting.

The sand was warm and the breeze was gentle. Allowing yourself to unwind as you sit in the sand, resting your head on your knees, you listened to the hustle and bustle of the bar in back of you. Your aunt had run the bell and someone just got thrown overboard. You watched as the same aviator from before was one of the few that carried the old-timer out.

You still couldn’t place him but decided to let it go. You could ask Penny about it later.

A familiar tune of piano keys causes your spine to straighten. Nausea twisted itself in your stomach as goosebumps peppered your skin. You stood up, listening for his voice as he started singing, still incapable to believe it unless you see him.

You peeked, treading cautiously towards the window.

And there he was.

Sitting at the piano bench, singing the same song Carole hummed in the kitchen when she babysat you. His fingers danced on the keys as he commanded the room, bobbing his head as he sang. He had a fuller build, aviators sloped on his nose with an open Hawaiian shirt. The same one Carole said he could wear once he was old enough for it to fit him.

Dread spread through your limbs as time stalled. Penny would understand if you left now. You’d just have to run in and grab your things. You’d be gone before he noticed you.

The hesitation only worsened when he raised his eyes and that confidence was taken over by surprise. It was only a second but it was enough to jerk you into action. Descending into the crowd, you concealed yourself between bodies as you escaped towards the back to grab your keys.

The song wasn’t quite finished yet. He kept up his performance and you didn’t have it in you to match him today. “Penny—”

“Go. I know now isn’t the time.” You embraced her tightly, swearing to drop by tomorrow and complete your shift, but right now you needed to go, and having a face-off with the man who broke your heart isn’t what you needed. Maybe later, but not now, it would be too much.

The air hit your flushed cheeks, catching your breath from the sudden intrusion. You glanced up one more time before trekking to your car, watching him bask in the ambiance of the crowd cheering him on, arms spread out to take in the energy. It didn’t last long before his gaze set itself on you, making his way through the crowd with a smile. Anyone would miss it, but you weren’t anyone. His face was tight and he walked stiffer than his usual gait.

You hadn’t seen Bradley Bradshaw since you were 26, and before that, since you were 18. You’d been raised together since you could remember.

It was now or never, you could spilt at the last moment and very evidently run or you could hesitate and let him catch up to you.

Whatever options you had evaporated as the door opened. It moved slowly, and you held your breath.

In that moment you felt foolish, why did you need to hide? He was the one that left you that morning. He was the one that didn’t answer your phone calls and refused to reach out. Outrage simmered in your throat as you felt it flush in your ears. Why hide when you could bury the hatchet here and let him have it?

He slowed as he got nearer as if he could never reach you no matter how far or fast he walked. He dangled his aviators on the neck of his tank, gathering himself. His gaze followed you up and down, leaving a burn wherever you felt his stare.

“Bradley ‘The Brave’ Bradshaw.” You spat.

He winced narrowly at your tone. Wonder steeling his bones as he was rendered speechless.

“How was the last���what? Decade? It’s been almost a decade since I’ve seen you. Phew time just flies. Doesn’t it?” You folded your arms over your chest, standing at attention as he just stared.

He didn't talk for a while. Breathing as he thought, chewing his bottom lip, just like he always did when he was unsure what to say.

“Good talk.” You headed for your car before he grasped your wrist, a gentle tug but one loaded with desperation. “I…” He paused again.

"Fuck, I don't know what to say." He rubbed his forehead, taking a swig of his beer. "I mean, I didn't have time to prepare a script and all." He motioned around, catching his failed attempt at a laugh.

"I'm sorry." He blurted. You both stood dumbfounded, just in surprise at each other's company. "I should've written, or texted, or emailed. I shouldn't have…." He trailed off as if shame carried his voice away.

“Oh wow. He thinks too. Isn't that convenient?” Your biting remark was followed by a snort, “Apology not accepted. It was shitty of you to leave me like that, knowing what was going on and deciding I wasn’t worth even a goodbye. You didn’t even say goodbye Bradley.”

Tears lined your eyes as bitterness warmed you, “I thought I wouldn’t be so mad at you after all these years. Believed that if I ran right now I could put it behind me but no…the years we spent together meant nothing when you left like that.” Your voice hardened with your resolve.

His grasp slackened on your wrist, “Then why did you come back? Thought you would’ve had the wedding by now.” He cocked his head to the side, aggravating you in the process.

“No.” You spit the words out, “Called the engagement off when he said my mother’s illness wasn’t worth the trouble.” Bradley stood dumbstruck, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It wasn’t often Bradley lost his composure, he had to be able to keep his head on tight if he was flying a jet. In this moment, he felt ill. He didn’t even know.

“She’s…She’s sick?”

You puffed out air, understanding that while you may seething, Bradley still cared for your mother. She took him in when Carole passed and Pete left him with nothing but a dim future. As much as you hated him, you understood that hearing about your mother's illness hurt. He loved her like family and he didn’t have much of that left.

“Bye Bradley.” You shook him off as he trailed after you, this time a bit brisk.

“What do you mean she's sick? Is it a cold, is it the flu?” Panic rested in his eyes as he scrutinized at you. Scanning your face for answers.

Your eyes bore into the asphalt. “It’s stage four Bradley.” You said feebly, the topic weighing you down as if sandbags had been placed on your shoulders, “The doctor said there might be a chance but we don’t know yet.”

He stood rigid, processing this information as grief seized his throat. Squeezing tight until he could barely speak. “I-I didn’t know or else I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what? Finally, called? You cut me off and I made do with it, but my mother? She loved you like one of her own and you just left.”

He rubbed his face. Palms shielding his eyes as he took a few breaths in, “At the time, I couldn’t have stayed. You may not understand why but I couldn’t stay.”

“Or you just didn’t want to.” His eyes shot up towards you, “You know that isn’t why I left. You know damn well.”

“No, I don’t. I woke up the next morning with nothing but your old pair of aviators and some dog tags. The bed was cold and I was alone.” You both had a stare-off, clearly oblivious of what the other was thinking.

You just puffed and watch as Bradley stood there, in all his aviator glory, allowing the anger that filled your body to tide you in. Electricity pooled into your palms and you tried not to slap him, all you could process was that anger, just anger anger anger. It was all you had that wasn’t grief.

Whether he was here or not, it didn't matter. You were too cross to articulate any of it. Years of bottled emotions popping open before you could process them. Stillness suspended itself in the air again, gripping both of you by the neck.

“I need to go.” You said firmly, “I just… I can't handle you right now. Not now.”

Slipping into your car, you give him one last look. He was impassive, closing himself off so he didn’t have to process it.

It wasn’t your problem anyway, you just needed to get home.

[ectonurites]

Now that we’re halfway through it what are your thoughts on Kon’s solo?

I've been enjoying it! I think it's been fun so far—I do think that letting Kon have a story where he's out on his own just doing a classic little adventure like this rather than... something super tethered to the greater DCU/its continuity messes is refreshing after the last few years he's had.

Like I definitely don't want him isolated from all his friends in space forever or anything like that, but I think him getting to do this on his own right now is cool. I think the thing Porter seems to be going for with Kon 'chasing after the glory days'/trying to find some shred of his old life to cling onto (even if it's just a space imitation of it) is definitely interesting and like... makes enough sense to me for him and where he's at after The Everything.

I just gave this 'how Kon has changed across the eras' post of mine from a while back (fall 2021, so written shortly after the whole Suicide Squad Match Ordeal™) a re-read and something I was talking about at the end was how after all the experiences he's had he has looped back around to embracing aspects of his old self (that he'd been pushing away for a long time because of 2000's-era Trauma And Angst) and I think this current book is definitely like, playing with that.

What I was talking about in that post ended mostly after YJ 2019 though—his state of mind at that point being more or less 'okay I'm back now let's goooooo!!!!!' before The Horrors of realizing he came back to a world that really had moved on without him for years really set in. Like, he knew about that by the end of YJ 2019, but I think he needed to sit on it for a bit and see it firsthand... also even though I know the book was a mess and not well received, I think we should still acknowledge Dark Crisis: Young Justice—where he got a firsthand taste of the olden 90's 'I hadn't died yet, I hadn't disappeared yet, I hadn't been replaced yet' days in Mickey's dream world. After experiencing that and getting some reality checks from the rest of the team, he knows he can't seriously just go back, you can't go back to the past like that... but...

The new understanding of himself he'd achieved just before/while stuck on Gemworld—where we saw he was making active choices about who he's gonna be based on what he wants rather than Clark-based expectations or anyone else's input, and where he was rolling with the changes and circumstances that had been thrown at him—has been thrown SERIOUSLY out of whack!

So rather than it being that 'he's returning to aspects of who he used to be while incorporating the experience and maturity he's gained along the way over the years' situation from YJ 2019, it's started warping into 'he's regressing back to the safety of being the Metropolis Kid/his 90's era self just out in space this time so TECHNICALLY it's DIFFERENT'. Which I think is an interesting approach! And him acting completely and totally in denial of that being what he's doing (even though it's clear he knows damn well it is) is also totally in line with classic Kon—thinking back to the Young Justice (1998) #7 camping trip LMAO.

But like, the thing is, Superboy: The Man of Tomorrow #1 started with an editor's note clarifying it takes place before Action Comics #1051 which began the new family-focused era of the book... that Kon is very obviously present for.

So we already know he's gonna figure out that there is a place for him back on earth and that he doesn't need to completely regress and try to relive his past somewhere else, he can just be himself and carve out his own path at home and have a place within the family. We're not stuck guessing about what Kon's fate is gonna be after the fact—instead, this book gets to focus on this journey he's going through and we're along for the ride to see how he's gonna finally reach that conclusion! Which is fun!

Anyways, that was a lot of word dumping—Kon just gets me going man, you know he always does—but in conclusion: I'm enjoying the book overall, it has definitely kept me as a Kon fan engaged, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes!

+ as much as ideologically I am opposed to DC Round Robin, I'm definitely (at this point anyways) glad that this book got to exist.

[rispwr]

LINGER - JK - MDNI

Part one

available on my wattpad acc:@rispwr

What else do i have to do to keep you from lingering in my mind?

pairings : classmate! bestfriend! jk x classmate! reader

genre:fluff

it's a kind of fwb typa stuff so yeah

content: it's a suprise (i haven't proof read yet)

summary : for 9 years of being in the same class with him since 3rd grade you have developed a small admiration towards him, till it had grown stronger the more you stay with him. will you be able to keep this secret from your bestfriend forever? does he know you like him? or do you both share the same feelings?

(please play casual by chappell roan for this fic)

just being friendly?

(this chapters pov changes from 3rd person to y/ns pov)

sitting down on your seat as jungkook hands you your heavy bag filled your books for your classes.

"thanks." you said gently taking the heavy bag from him as you caress his shoulders

"does it hurt?" you ask him, "yeah, sorta." he replied to you.

"can i come over later to get a massage?" he spits out, showing you a giddy smile showing his cute smile. "ofcourse!" you let out a laugh.

the adviser walks in with her books on her hand opening it, as all of the students went back to their places and respectfully bow.

"okay!! class open your book on page 34. And there will be no eating in this class! got it??!" the teacher said referring to jungkook who would always eat his snacks during classes since he would sit in the back of the class anyway.

you let out a giggle at him.

time passes by

the class has finally ended and it's finally time for lunch. "hey y/n wanna have lunch with me?" he asks gently interwining my hands with his. "is that even a question anymore? ofcourse!" i asnwered him joyfully as we walk towards to the canteen.

we both shared laughs, jokes and moments of eye contacts normally as we would always do, but this time was different? this time it felt more than platonic.

is he just being friendly?

i thought to myself. i took a moment to look at him and admire his features. " hey y/n.." he said as he grabs my attention or snapping me out, making me go back to reality.

"i was thinking-" before he could finish his words the bell had already rang. "i'm sorry what were you gonna say?" i asked him "oh nothing.." he replied to me with a slight smile. i shrugged it off anyway as we went back to class together.

"ring" finally the school has already ended.

"so still up for the massage?" he asks me as his smile lits up "yeah ofcourse! anything for you." i replied to him.

we got to my house, with our hands still interwined with each other.

"jungkookssiiii" my mom called out for jungkook as he bowed to her

"aishh y/n will you stop making jungkookie carry all your books?" my mom slightly laughed at me "but momm he offered me? why would i say no?" i replied giggling.

"ah ah we'll be upstairs!" i yelled to my mom as i took jungkooks hand all the way up to the stairs to my room.

we got into the room as he plops himself from the bed.

"if you wanna change you can, you have clothes in my closet!" i told him.

he hums. i the start unbuttoning my shirt infront of the mirror to get dressed into my house clothes, until a button gets stuck halfway through it. enough to see me bra "ah ah jungkookah can you help me?" i said.

i wasn't embarrassed of showing myself to him as we were already so close with each other. we've seen each other taking a dump, pissing and other else. so why should we?

aren't friends supposed to help each other?

jungkook stands up from the bed, walking towards me to help with my stuck button. "you like telling me you're an independant woman yet you can't even do this yourself" he chuckles as he gently unbuttons my blouse as he bites his lips. "might aswell undress you completely and give you a shower then" he spits out again once again as he does that tounge thingy with his mouth.

"oh please. i can shower myself just fine, thanks for the offer tho. maybe next time?" i said teasing him, with my bra still exposed to him.

"go just finish shower alreadyyyy. my back and shoulder hurts, it needs you." he whines as he pushes me to my shower.

i finally finished showering and changed into a tank top and a short short, what i usually wear everyday.

"okay i'm done." i said with a smile as i look at him laying down on my bed "dang bae, the fuck took you so long" he playfully grunts to me. "go lay on your stomach kook" i said as i got some essence oil on my hand.

he nodded, took his blouse off revealing his toned abs and toned back.

"Just relax," i whispered, my voice soft as i knelt behind him. i gently brushed aside a few stray locks of hair, tucking them behind jungkook's ear. my fingers hovered over his back for a moment, feeling the warmth radiating from his body before i made contact.

Starting at the base of his neck, i applied gentle pressure, my thumbs moving in slow, circular motions. i could feel the knots beneath her fingers, tight and unyielding at first, but slowly, they began to give way. With each pass, jungkook let out a sigh, the tension in his muscles gradually melting away.

"That feels amazing," jungkook murmured, his voice tinged with relief. his head lolled forward, giving me more access to the back of her neck. Taking the cue, i worked her way down, her fingers gliding over the smooth expanse of his back, focusing on the spots i knew always held the most tension.

As i moved lower, my hands firm and steady, jungkook's body relaxed even further, his breathing deep and slow. my fingers traced the line of jungkook's spine, my touch gentle yet deliberate. i could feel the subtle shiver that ran through jungkook's body as i reached his lower back, the sensation sending a thrill through my own fingertips.

"How are you feeling now?" i asked softly, my hands pausing just above jungkook's waist.

"A lot better," jungkook replied, his voice a little breathless. he shifted slightly, leaning back into my touch, seeking more of the comfort and relief it brought.

Smiling, i resumed his massage, my touch now lighter, more focused on soothing rather than kneading. i moved back up to jungkook's shoulders, my fingers dancing across his skin in a rhythmic, calming pattern. i could feel the last remnants of tension dissipate, replaced by a peaceful stillness.

we stayed like that for a while, the room filled with nothing but the quiet sound of their breathing. Finally, my hands stilled, resting on jungkook's shoulders as i leaned in close, my lips just brushing jungkook's ear.

"All better?" i asked, my voice a gentle murmur.

jungkook nodded, his eyes closed in contentment. "Yeah, thanks. I really needed that."

i gave him a smile as i got up from his back, patting his head. "go take a shower kook" i told him.

"dang y/n when did you learn how to do that. i want that again" he smiles at me, satisfied as his shoulder and back pain is finally relieved. "yeah yeah whatever. just go take a shower, then let's watch a movie" i mumured.

part two

https://www.tumblr.com/rispwr/759139180906414080/rain?source=share

[mellori]

As you might imagine I finished Gideon the Ninth strongly motivated to read Harrow the Ninth immediately, and so I pretty much didn't stop listening to it non-stop until I'd gotten about halfway through and was suddenly struck with an overpowering impulse not to start the next chapter. I've forgotten what, exactly, happened but I'm sure Harrow had just spent a(nother) chapter suffering on the Mithraeum.

I was super confused, because I'd loved Gideon the Ninth so much, and now I was dreading starting the next chapter of Harrow the Ninth? So I sat down and really thought about it. Why did I suddenly seem to hate this thing I love?

My immediate, emotional response was basically "Well obviously Ms. Muir has lost the plot. She had a cool idea that managed to become Gideon the Ninth and now she's disappeared up her own asshole trying some avant-garde experiment in Harrow the Ninth because she thinks she's clever and is trying to outdo her previous work."

This is obviously incredibly, embarrassingly stupid, in hindsight.

But next, as I was interrogating my own feelings, I asked myself "but what if the same Tamsyn who wrote Gideon the Ninth also wrote this? (A shocking revelation, I'm sure.) What if this is just as cleverly crafted and wonderfully written? Why would I hate it then? Is it the second person perspective? (No? Maybe a tiny bit, but not really.)"

(At this point i also asked myself "Given this incredibly obvious assumption that Ms. Muir remains a genius writer, why would she choose to write these parts in second person?" and realised immediately that Gideon was narrating from inside Harrow's mind. This, I am sure, greatly helped me enjoy the rest of the book, because it made me feel clever and my biggest flaw is without a doubt how much I need to feel like I'm smart[er than everybody else], but that's neither here nor there.)

Essentially what I'm saying is it took me barely ten hours before I hated how trapped I felt being stuck on the Mithraeum.

IMAGINE TEN THOUSAND YEARS OF THIS SHIT.

Also shout out to Tamsyn Muir, so effortlessly evocative a writer that I didn't even notice how strongly and completely she was making me empathise with Harrowhark and her situation. I don't think I've ever connected with a character so profoundly, so deeply and so unconsciously before. I wanted out so viscerally I had to stop reading for a hot minute and remember that I'm not actually trapped on the Mithraeum, this is a book that I'm reading.

[faerunsbest]

DEMISEXUAL

Lia makes a discovery that she needs to tell her brother about.

short fic about a talk between Rolan and Lia( read on ao3)

"Hey Rolan...are you busy?"

Rolan look up from his book, suspicious of his sisters tone, even more when he catches sight of her nervous posture.

"What did you do?"

Lia grimaces at the way he narrows his eyes at her, his eyes drop to the book in her hands. She reaches back to shut the inns door behind her. Immediately Rolan shuts his book and sits up on the edge of his bed.

"Lia what did you do???"

She walks over and sits beside him, she works her jaw thinking about how to start. With a deep breathe she lays the book on her lap, trying not to feel the way Rolan stares at her with growing anxiety.

"There's nothing wrong, I just want to.. tell you about something i read and -"

He shifts in place to face her, dropping the book beside him and crossing his arms over his chest. She pauses, wincing at the sharp glare.

"I need you to promise you wont get mad and you'll listen to what i say -the whole thing."

"Lia what-"

"PROMISE! It has to be your promise, please... please listen."

Rolan sighs, deflating a little at the worried tone that suddenly sparked up in her. With a huff he rubs his temple before looking at her with focus.

"I will listen and i wont interrupt until you are done."

He punctuates the last word with a tilt of his head. As soon as he says it, Lia opens the book flips to a particular page. Shes stops to think a bit, pressing the open book to her chest.

"I was thinking, about you cause lately you've been acting kind of different. not bad different just different." She watches him work his jaw but remain quiet.

"It's different- um. because you never- you didn't really..."

His brow knits as he watches her flounder through her thoughts.

"Me and Cal used to get kinda worried about you, cause you never seemed to like anyone-"

Lia watches him open his mouth angrily before clamping shut and looking away, then back again. Brow weighted down with a growing glare.

"After it was just us- we thought it was our fault, because you spend so much time focused on us."

He blinks in surprise at her, shifting awkwardly in place as she goes on.

"Then we thought... Well I don't know what we thought but lately... You're different... since we got stuck that night over at Dwylla's camp."

She watches his face color with warmth and few emotions she can't place. He takes a deep breath but remains quiet. Like he promised.

"You were smiling so much over there with her, when she sat with you over all those scrolls and stuff. You even laughed, but it was so much different then the way you are with us."

Rolan reached up and pushing back loose strands of hair, wanting to look away.

"Now every time you see her, you smile. Even when shes not talking to you- shes just around. It's a smile..."

Rolan watches Lia think deeply for a moment.

"Do you remember when mom would tell us fairy tales and they had those happily ever afters? The way she smiled then? It's like that."

Rolan shifted nervously, feeling an uncomfortable warmth from his face halfway down his chest. Lia shifts to look down at the book.

"Demisexuality is a sexual orientation. People who identify as demisexual only feel sexual attraction to someone after they've formed a strong emotional bond with them. Compared to the general population, most people who are demisexual rarely feel sexual attraction. "

She looks to him, unsurprised by his wide eyes staring at her.

"I just, I just didn't want you to miss your chance at a.. happily every after just because you didn't know you had one...you know. That's it I'm all done."

She stares him unsure what he might say, he stays facing away from her. With a heavy sigh Lia moves to leave, pausing when Rolan holds out one hand.

"I'd like to read it..."

She sets the book lightly in his hand and walks out. As she closes the door behind her Lia glances over her shoulder to see Rolan focused on the page she had just read.

He doesn't listen as she shuts the door quietly, instead Rolan finds himself staring with mild shock. He flipped the page, it went on and on. Curiously he turned the book over to its front, opening a long passage about asexuality and its variants. No matter what he does he keeps finding himself staring at the title font.

"Demisexual"

It has a name, suddenly little wet spots appeared on the page as he found himself with burning eyes and a lump in his throat. He pressed the book to his forehead hiding his face from an empty room. He didn't see when Cal slipped in, stopping to hear him whisper.

"It has a name... there's nothing wrong with me..."

Just as quietly as he had entered, Cal slipped out leaving his brother to his quiet little personal epiphany.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Healing through tears and a kiss

warning : fear, hurt/comfort, kissing, cuddling, nightmares, trauma, thematization of : death/blood/corpse

Summary : Involuntarily drawn into the case, after less than a week on the trail, Marc is forced to deal with events that mark him, unaware that this will end in a breakdown and that his girlfriend is there to support him.

Info : The third piece about Marc and I'm glad that some people enjoyed it and I enjoyed writing it…enjoy reading.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late afternoon in Berlin and nothing was really going on. The sun was slightly obscured behind the clouds and shone sporadically on the buildings, their inhabitants and the animals cavorting in the trees, grasses and bushes of the parks.

It was a relaxed day, at least for the young woman standing behind the till of a small second-hand bookshop, taking books from a couple of elderly ladies who had bought them for themselves and their small grandchildren.

She only partially followed the conversation but couldn't help smiling when one of the ladies talked with a purple thin sound about the energy of her grandson who would love to play around all day. It was just a normal day in the store where she worked, sorting books, giving advice and taking in the smell of the store.

After accepting the money and giving the women the wrapped books, the glass door closed and the bell rang to let her know that the ladies had disappeared.

But not a second later, she flinched in surprise as she heard the guitar playing on her cell phone and read her boyfriend's name on the screen.

"At this time of day? He's supposed to be watching video footage with his boss, isn't he?" she wondered, remembering the brief conversation they'd had that morning before he'd disappeared out the door with a slight smile to get to his job and the murder case.

A job he didn't really want, but due to a few coincidences and loopholes he was practically forced into it. Disregarding this and not thinking anything bad, she answered and greeted him with a ,,Well what's up police boy?" she asked teasingly expecting to hear a grin or a sigh every time she called him that but no it took a few seconds in which she only heard the faint sound of the state before he said quietly in German ,,Kannst du mich abholen?".

A short question, a question in a tone that made her wonder what was going on, what had happened to make him seem so upset and destroyed. ,,Yes-Yes, of course Marc, but what is-" she wanted to ask what was going on in the hope of getting an answer but instead he hung up and she saw that he had sent her his location.

With a worried look, she grabbed her keys, locked the store early, sent a message to her boss and got into her car before following the directions on her satnav. But halfway there she realized that it was more or less in the direction of the police station and she drove even faster. "You'll never get free again, why now?" she thought, worrying even more as she drove onto another road.

Only minutes later she arrived at the place and hurried out of her car and ran to the entrance ignoring the looks of the employees and guests and ran up the stairs to the office he shared with his boss.

She heard the receptionist's calls but ignored them, her heart beating fast as she arrived and opened the door to Minx's office. ,,Where is he?" she asked as she entered, looking around and seeing only the older investigator looking up from his files, a cigarette stuck between his lips.

She saw the sigh in his eyes before he stood up and gestured towards an adjoining room. She nodded a silent thank you they had never talked much but at least his boss seemed to tolerate her rushing around.

Walking into the room she saw that it was like a lounge, tables and chairs, a snack machine flickering and Marc sitting on one of those cold hard chairs.

His eyes lowered and his head resting on his hands, he looked at her when he heard her voice. ,,My God, Marc, what's wrong?" she asked, sitting down at the table and looking at him, seeing that his blue eyes seemed completely empty and he looked like he was sleep-deprived and had been through hell.

,,A case, the trace we had of the case went wrong," he admitted slowly, holding his cap tightly and avoiding her gaze, giving her only a slight smile through which she could see.

She put a hand on his and felt that he was cold as if all warmth had gone out of him and she looked towards the door as his boss Minx came in. ,,Schrader du kannst jetzt gehen…wir machen übermorgen an dem Fall weiter, ruhe dich aus Marc " he said and she understood the harsh sounding language she had learned after moving here even if it was the least of her problems now.

,,Thank you," she replied and the man gave her a serious nod before she took Marc by the hand and practically had to drag him out of the room so that they were in the car five minutes later. ,,Do you want to talk about it?" came her cautious question not knowing exactly what had happened on the case but how bad was it? What had he experienced?

But he just shook his head, looked out of the window and said, ,,No next maybe we could go home please…I'm tired dear" he at least tried not to make it too obvious as she nodded silently and set the car in motion again and headed back to the building complex where they lived not the best but they had already made themselves at home.

It was enough for what they needed and as soon as the door was closed Marc seemed to turn away from her and mumbled ,,I'm going to take a shower", explaining where he was going.

She still felt uneasy, she knew that some days were exhausting, but not so bad that he was so mentally exhausted, not to mention physically as if he would collapse any minute.

,,Okay, maybe that's okay… I'll make you some Spagetthis Bolognese," she called back to him. She had planned to cook something today anyway if she had finished earlier, but it was also something that kept her busy without making her sick with worry. While she was listening, she heard the shower running and the radio mingling with the sounds.

After a few minutes, the pasta was softened and the sauce with the meat was ready, the food could be taken but Marc still didn't seem to be finished. ,,Marc? Marc the food is ready, are you coming?" she asked into the apartment and got no answer, which made her feel disgruntled when she decided to go to the bathroom. She knocked on the door and asked if she could come in, only now realizing that the door was unlocked.

,,Marc, is everything okay?" she asked, trying to get close to him when she saw Marc leaning against the shower door with wet hair, jogging bottoms down his legs and a loose T-shirt covering his upper body.

But what upset her most was the bright reddish water still visible in the shower. ,,Are you hurt!" she shouted almost loud enough for the neighbors to hear as she knelt in front of him and examined his body.

But luckily for her, she couldn't find any injuries, but where did the blood come from? She felt the cold water dripping lightly onto her hands and arms where the drops were dripping down the ends of his hair. She slowly took his face in her hands and made him look at her and saw that it was not only water but also silent tears running down his cheeks.

,,What happened, darling?" she asked, no pressure behind it, giving him space as he slowly placed his hands on hers, she saw his tension slowly soften and he slowly admitted what had happened. ,,The case, we were going to interview someone…she was dead in the tub completely violated that-the blood was everywhere," he began and she let out a soft sigh as she realized that Marc wasn't hurt, that he was just bloodied, but was that all?

No, because when he opened his dry lips again it sent a shiver down her spine. ,,A suspect I went after him with my gun but he-he took it and pulled the trigger…in front of me I could see and feel everything," he mumbled with a suppressed sob and she wrapped him in her arms.

She pulled him slightly away from the ground and felt him slowly hug her back, shaking. ,,I had no idea, I'm so sorry you had to see it…it's over okay you-you're safe here now" she tried to make him feel that the nightmare was over, that he didn't have to be afraid of it happening again. That he was so close to death it would all be okay and even though her own heart ached she couldn't imagine what he was feeling she just held him tighter.

His soft ,,Thank you" reached her and she hugged him one last time before giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead as they sat together on the floor, leaning against each other, listening to the radio and just holding hands.

She looked over at him and saw that his eyes were no longer red from crying, her own fear had disappeared and she felt him use his hand to trace her fingers one by one.

He himself took a moment before he stood up and held his hand out to her. ,,Now noodles for my protective angel?" he asked and for the first time in the last few hours there was a genuine smile on his lips before she took his hand and it was up to him to pull her into a kiss.

She could feel a smile on his lips and happiness in his gaze as long as he didn't sink into the trauma of this wonderful experience…and she would pull him out of it no matter how many times. ,,Noodles for the angel and her boyfriend," she replied with a wink before they walked hand in hand back to the kitchen and made their way to the long-needed meal that warmed their insides with relish just as love filled their hearts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@nn-nnenov , @hanslandasstrudel

[mwebber]

THE DAY THE LOOP ENDS, sebastian vettel steps out of his car having won a formula one grand prix. he walks onto the podium to the sound of resounding boos, and indignant shouts, and the suffocating, unbearable force of mark webber's quiet rage beside him.

it's march 24, 2013. he's in malaysia at the moment. that's an understatement; he's been in malaysia for days, weeks, months, if not years. he's abandoned the paddock more than once, hopped on flights out of the country in business class and spent his days in transit alone. he's talked to the most interesting people he's ever met, brokenly stuttering through languages he doesn't speak. he's fucked more people, spreading his legs for anybody who'll look at him twice. he's tried murder, but only once, and in a fit of nihilism, and desperation, and anger. it was messier than trying to end his own existence. he's woken up every morning at seven on the dot on sunday, march 24, by heikki knocking on his door, even if he never falls asleep.

he's spent the most time with mark, which is surprising, or maybe not surprising in the least. in the race, sometimes mark will come first, and sometimes he'll come second. tyres never degrade the same way. the wind blows too hard in one direction. the mercedes boys have a fractious relationship, moreso than even his and mark's, and they pull crazy stunts. pit stops go well and fail miserably at random.

it feels good to win on track and get a leg up over his rival, if only for a day. on his worst days, it feels better to get his leg up in a different sense. those are the nights he spends staring at the digital clock in mark's hotel room, some loops cuddling, other loops so far apart that it's like they've never touched. and he'll tell mark the same story he tells him every time:

i'm stuck reliving the same day over and over again. i don't know how to get out.

depending on how serious he sounds, or how close they are, mark either believes him or doesn't. he's looked the other man in the eyes and confessed his love, or his hate, or any one of the feelings that curl around his heart like barbed wire. it's not like what he say matters much in the end; the clock strikes 12, and then it's 7 in the morning, and heikki is yelling at him to get off his lazy ass.

he's played chicken with the universe for an eternity, and become the worst person he's ever known.

so it's—it needs to be some cosmic joke, right? that this is how it ends? traitor to the team, unnecessary career-killer, champion fallen from grace? after all the terrible things he's done, the actions that stain him forever are the ones he made today?

"i messed up," seb tries to explain while they wait to enter the post-race press conference. "i didn't mean to, i just messed up."

mark can't even look him in the eye.

"yeah, well." he sniffs. "actions have consequences."

i killed you, seb wants to confess. i crashed into you on purpose just to see what would happen, and i snapped your neck and broke your body into pieces.

he swallows empty air, instead. "yeah."

THE DAY AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, hanna asks him what's wrong.

"nothing," he blinks. after all, he's broken free from the clutches of time itself. he's back home with the woman he's committed the rest of his life to. isn't this his happily ever after?

she gives him an uncertain smile. she doesn't press the issue.

TWO DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb thinks about buying a single plane ticket with money he's just earned and flying back to malaysia, no return ticket. just to see if the days have really passed by, if his belongings are still haphazardly shoved in the corner of a hotel room, if he can still knock on the next door over and see mark.

"hanna," he says to an empty room, apropos of nothing. "hanna?"

she's on the porch reading a book. she's been reading the same book for eternity. seb stares at the pages, the words far too small to make out from his viewpoint halfway out the front door.

with a small hum, she glances up at him. "are you okay?"

his vision is doubled through the glass, in the odd way the light refracts off its surface. when he blinks, the effect doesn't lessen.

THREE DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb wakes up at seven in the morning, and sees the time, and stops breathing with a suddenness that leaves him shaking violently.

off your ass, seb, c'mon. let's g—

FOUR DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb gets a call.

"we'll get a lawyer," hanna promises him, darkly, her voice tight and irritated and jesus fucking christ, seb wants to swear. she won't let the axe fall on his neck. why won't she let the axe fall on his neck?

FIVE DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb drives like a madman all the way to the nearest city proper so he can buy a newspaper. he's dressed in old sweatpants and hasn't washed his hair in days (weeks, months, years? no, it was tuesday, it was just tuesday—) and he probably looks like a complete lunatic, shoving too much money at the stranger running the kiosk just to grip the paper with white knuckles and sprint back to his car and breathe so hard in the driver's seat he almost passes out. but there it is: march 29. 2013.

SIX DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, and seb is supposed to be much farther along in his prep for china than he is. red bull has some red bullshit lined up, some PR nonsense that he's contractually obligated to fulfill next week. it's infinitely strange to think about the future.

A WEEK AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb is convinced he's back inside it. it's seven in the morning. somebody is knocking on the door. it's sunday. if he opens his eyes, he will see the popcorn ceiling of the hotel room and—

A WEEK AND A DAY AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb is not sure what to do about mark crashing their place. hanna treats him politely like a houseguest, though her stiff smile belies the anger seb knows she feels.

it's probably not his fault, he could say. that damned manager of his, she gets into his head. sometimes he'll tell me as much after he rips a new hole in my ass with his cock.

"i killed you," he admits, bluntly, finally, like a dull knife that's broken through skin.

he sips at his tea. it burns his tongue.

mark, to his credit, does not flinch. "you'll wish you killed me."

A WEEK AND TWO DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, and they are on a flight to china.

"i've jumped out of a plane before," says seb to mark's sleeping face. "i've punched a man and opened the emergency door and jumped out without a parachute."

"no, you haven't," mark mumbles tiredly, his eyebrows furrowing and a thunderous frown creeping onto the thin line of his mouth. he's right. seb didn't punch a man; he simply opened the rear door when the stewards weren't there and let himself plummet.

"i think i'm stuck again." seb confesses. they're words better reserved for god or some other deity, not his teammate.

this time, mark opens his eyes.

"it's so much worse for me," he murmurs, "if you feel bad."

"i don't feel bad." this is a fundamental misunderstanding. seb doesn't really regret what he did in malaysia; he'd do it again, in any and every time loop.

mark snorts softly, and turns his head to the aisle. "whatever."

A WEEK AND THREE DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb wakes up in a hotel room. it's seven in the morning. heikki and britta are arriving in a couple hours. the ceiling is smooth white paint.

still half-undressed, he pads barefoot to the door, and shuts one eye, and squints out the peephole at the warped hallway. the optical illusion sometimes feels more real than the straight lines and straight lanes that define his schedule.

A WEEK AND FOUR DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb sits alone at a press conference for two and tries not to blink.

"i was racing. i was faster. i passed him." i've imagined the sound of mark webber's spine being ripped from his body vertebra by vertebra. "i won."

A WEEK AND FIVE DAYS AFTER THE LOOP ENDS, seb is back in the car. it's like no time has passed at all.

[the-tenth-arcanum]

9 people you'd like to get to know better

(lys sorry I re-liked your post a dozen times I was trying to keep it on top of my 2k liked posts otherwise I would never see it again. and then I got stuck on the very first question and I kept putting this off. but I'm doing this now! everybody clap)

tagged: @malinaa

tagging: @centurieslove | @fairyhagmother | @flowersandfashion | @tuttocenere | @herstarlight |

@stormsouls | @mayapleiades | @courtjestermerlin | @godmerlin

three non romantic duos:

Sam & Frodo! Who did it like them! "Don't go where I can't follow!" "Frodo wouldn't have got far without Sam"! And other such hits. Crazy. To be honest there's a few non romantic duos from LOTR that I could pick but I love Sam Gamgee to death so I'm going with these two. Three hurrahs for borderline homoerotic devotion

2. Jen & Jack (Dawson's Creek). Dating myself here but I was obsessed with this teen drama as a teen. I've not really rewatched it since then because I'm afraid it will not live up to my nostalgic memories (though to be fair it started sucking so badly around S5 that I dropped it at the time and only tuned back in for the last episode lol). Anyway is there anything more beautiful than the friendship between a gay guy and his fag hag bestie? They were the cutest I love them both so much. I love how this show was so consistent in the way it portrayed their friendship. they were ride or die. I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE

3. Gaius & Merlin (lol). Okay I agonised over the last one but I couldn’t think of a better duo (sorry women 😔). I'm sure there are others I can't remember right now, but I do love them to be honest so why not them. I might have mentioned it before on my side blog but their relationship is probably my favourite in the show. I like the Chosen Family trope, okay? And I love that their relationship was important, in the show. They care so much about each other and it comes up time and time again. And their dynamic is fascinating, they're so similar in some ways and completely different in others. Immovable object vs unstoppable force. Thick as thieves, a pair of liars. As I once said—they lie so much, to other people, to themselves and to each other. And I think that's beautiful. Grey morality ❤

a ship that might surprise others: can't think of any tbh. I'm sure there are fics I've read that might surprise others, but only because I do check out a bit of everything if the premise sounds interesting enough to me, even with ships that are a bit out there. I don't really count that as shipping though.

last song: 80s medley I need to learn for my choir

last film: I don't really watch films anymore tbh 😭 I think the last one was when my aunt came to visit me last month—How Do You Know, which she chose because Paul Rudd was in it and it's probably the only reason to ever watch this film.

currently reading: Bliss & Blunder!! "A modern reworking of Arthurian legend". Or, the one where King Arthur is a tech bro. I'm enjoying it actually! (Nell if you're reading this I'll post some thoughts soon.ish. but I'm not even halfway through)

currently watching: nothing? I started Wolf Hall but I've watched less than half an episode over three lunch breaks and then I gave up for now because I'm meant to read a book and I can only focus on one (1) thing at the time apparently. but I might resume watching it at some point

currently consuming: nothing. hashtag minimalism

currently craving: local close friends so we can go out for a coffee and a chat 😔

[heyybaejjk]

SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI ! - CHAPTER 6

pairing; teen!miguel o'hara x fem samoan oc

summary; One step forward, a few more back.

warning/notes; cursing, family issues, does this count as angst...

series masterlist | prev chap | next chap

High school was something you either hated or loved, there was no in-between.

"I fucking hate this class."

Sione already knew what he thought.

9 o'clock on the dot, students fill up the entirety of a classroom. Sometimes. Sometimes, students decide to come at any time they like. They can walk in through the door halfway through class time, even 5 minutes before the bell goes.

Manaia, the dear early bird, always made sure she walked into class looking clean and fresh. No bumps in her hair, nothing stuck in her teeth, lips are moist. Yet, when she doesn't feel all that prepared, she always has her best friend to help her out.

"Sione, do you have a toothbrush in your bag?"

"No, you weirdo."

"What? Why not?"

"Uh, I don't know, maybe because I use toothbrushes for you know, my teeth?"

"But-"

"I'm joking, here," He throws Manaia a brand-new 2 set of toothbrushes.

"When did you get these?"

"After the first few times you would ask me like I'm going to say yes, probably?" he jokes dryly.

Manaia beams at this, "So you got-"

"Yes, Naia, and gel too. Here," he throws over a mini container of gel over to Manaia.

She squeals and engulfs Sione into her arms. "Thank youuuu," she says happily.

"Yeah, yeah, fix your edges before your man comes."

9:28, Miguel walks in through the door. His hair is ruffled, cheeks slightly tinted and chest is heaving. "Ma'am, I apologise for being late," he says, voice hoarse and raspy.

Manaia shuffles in her seat.

"No worries, dear, take a seat."

He nods his head and makes his way over and sits next to Manaia, who looks down at her book nervously. Her arms stay enclosed to her side of the table. This wasn't the first time they had sat together, yet she always found herself unable to gather a single thought around him.

"Good morning, Manaia," Miguel greets warmly, giving her a polite smile, pushing her out of her thoughts.

"Hi, Miguel," giving a small wave, before turning around to Sione shaking him by his shoulder excitedly. He winces numerous times, "Okay, okay, I get it!" he whispers.

Miguel lets out a chuckle.

Feigning a face of calm, she smiles at Miguel. Her fingers gently brush back hairs that stuck out in front of his face, "Why were you late this morning? Are you okay?" she whispers.

"Had to help a family member move in and a few other things," he whispers to keep their conversation only to themselves. But a boy could only wish.

"Oh, you mean Gabriel?" Sione chimes in.

Miguel can feel his throat tighten as Manaia raises an eyebrow at her best friend, "Who?"

"Gabriel! Miguel has a brother, show her! show her!" Voice so hushed, the chatter among the other students were overbearingly loud and overwhelming Miguel.

"I didn't know you had a brother," a voice so soothing brought Miguel back from wonderland. "Is he younger than us?"

"Yeah.. yeah, he's younger," Miguel hesitates to say.

Manaia's face glows at the mention, "Oh, I bet he is so cute! He can get along with my baby-"

"Here, Naia. Look!" Sione shoves his phone into Manaia's face. "That's what he looks like, Miguel showed us before."

Miguel looks away annoyed, yet he finds himself curious of the girl's reaction. "Oh," He watches as Manaia's face changes, she smiles. "I thought he was going to be a baby." Her focus now on him. His heart tightens again. Her eyes travel up and down Miguel's form slowly, back to Sione's phone. Miguel hides the lower part of his body under the table at this.

"I think Miguel's cuter."

Sione had gone home early again. For the same reason as last time. That idiot. Kiuga and David hadn't even come to school, "We honestly couldn't be fucked coming today," they say over the phone call Manaia made during lunch, who sulked over their absence.

Neither Miguel nor Manaia found a reason to complain, anyway.

"You think I'm cute, huh?"

"I do not."

They were kept at a comfortable distance as they walked together along the empty sidewalk. Miguel had two bags on his back, Manaia's and his own. He offered to hold hers as hers was full of books that were thick as David's eyebrows, while his was full of air. The skies were painted grey, sly roaring of the sky had reached Manaia's ears as she looked up. "Hm," she feels a wet drop on her cheek, "It's going to rain soon," she whispers.

"Hm?" Miguel looks over at her, teasing demeanor long gone.

"I'm sorry, I think you should go home, Migs. It's going to rain soon," looking up at him with an apologetic grin, "Sorry for making you walk me home."

He smiles wholeheartedly, "It's fine, Manaia. I'll walk you home any time you ask," he stops walking. So does she.

He pulls out an umbrella, hands now fumbling around with the handle as he feels droplets multiplying, landing on the fabric of his tight sleeves.

Opening up the umbrella revealed how ridiculously small it would be to fit both of them underneath. No time was wasted as the light sprinkle grew slightly heavy, Miguel hurriedly took off his jacket before placing it on Manaia's shoulders. Giving Manaia the umbrella to firmly hold as he towered over her and the umbrella itself.

"You're going to get wet!"

"It's fine, Manaia. I-"

She pulls him by the side of his shirt, drawing closer to her. Instinctively he puts an arm around her waist. With his free hand, he takes the umbrella from her hand.

"What?" Manaia whines, "You're already holding my bag, Miguel, it's not fair."

"Am I?"

"Yes, Miguel."

"Really?"

"Mhm." The shorter girl nods her head.

"It doesn't feel like I'm holding your bag."

"Miguel."

"Manaia."

"But Miguel-"

"Yes, Manaia?"

"You're already holding-"

"You're pretty."

"...Pardon?"

"I said we're here."

They both come to a stop as Miguel holds Manaia closer to him. "It'll be better if we take the bus to your house." The bus stop had zero seats, they had zero reason to complain as they stood closer together. The bus came, they sat together, their knees touched and they didn't shy away.

"Wait, how do you know which bus to take to my house? I didn't even know there was a bus stop near my house."

"You have a best friend that tells me everything."

"And he didn't even bother to tell me? I've been walking 30 minutes every day to get home for the past 5 years!" Manaia whispers to herself, the boy next to her finds himself biting back a smile at her cute gesture.

She goes quiet as her phone buzzes in her pocket.

Sione <3: you didnt even give me my chips today u rat 😢

Manaia laughs quietly to herself, showing her phone to Miguel. "He's such an egg."

Miguel feels an itch at the back of his head. He's waited multiple years to be this close with the girl he's now friends with. As much as it annoyed him, he shut his mouth to not ruin the moment.

"That's the kid I met 3 months ago, right?" Gesturing to Manaia's lockscreen.

Her screen lit up showing the photo David had taken for him the other day, her in all her glory, wearing a dress that was in no comparison to her beauty. And there he saw the sei he had gotten her. Arms wrapped around her brother tightly like she didn't want to let go. He feels his heart dance.

"Mhm, that's my honey," she says.

He can only imagine how she would talk about him if they were an actual thing, but he couldn't be thinking of that right now, or at all. He had no right to. He wasn't hers. She wasn't his.

The bus had come to a stop exactly right where they needed it. They get off, Manaia observes the sidewalk she's on as Miguel opens back up the umbrella he held on to.

"I know this street! It's so close to my house! Could've saved me the long walk I've been doing," She sulks as Miguel puts the umbrella over her head.

They share a comforting, silent walk. "You know.." Miguel starts nervously. "My mother wants to bring along the boys to come and meet my brother. She wants them to get along with him because she says, and I quote, those boys are like my sons and I want all my kids to get along."

"Your mum is such a cutie!" she laughs lightly, tucking a hair strand behind her ear. "That's sweet of your mum to do."

"Yeah," he hesitates. "She knows how important the guys are to me and them meeting someone like my brother would be everything," trailing off, looking away from her longing stare. Eyes he wishes he could never look away from, but he finds himself doing so.

"Yeah?.." Manaia questions as he doesn't focus back on her.

"Well, I was just wondering if you'd like to come as well?" he rushes.

Miguel looks away again as Manaia tries to look him in the eye. "Oh.. I'm not really-"

"I mean you don't have to come is what I'm saying-" He curses at the thought of how rude it sounded, looking down at her parted lips, "I mean, I want you there-"

Manaia is fast to cut him off, "I wouldn't want to go if your mum doesn't know about me."

"She does because I talk about you." Miguel cries about how mind fucked he felt.

They walked in silence. It felt like Miguel was back at square one the first time he walked Manaia home. Manaia's driveway was in view, and so was the empty spot where her mum's car should've been. She sighs, looking over to the tall boy.

Nervously taking his hand into hers as they walk up to the door. It felt the same way just like it did before. Miguel could look anywhere but at her. Manaia could look anywhere but at him. Their fingers remained intertwined.

"I'm sorry if I sounded a bit sensitive earlier, Miguel," she apologises, her thumb brushing over the back of his palm. Miguel's heart slows down.

"It's okay, Manaia," he smiles.

She lets go of his hand, and awkwardly puts it behind her back shyly, "We're just, you know, friends. I just don't want your mum to think we're more than we already are."

Do words hurt more than action? Does action hurt more than words? Whatever the fuck it was, Miguel was fucking crushed.

"Yeah, I get that," he scratches the back of his neck to subside his feelings that were hurt. "But, you hold the same significance to me the way the other guys do."

"I do?"

Miguel nods his head, now looking Manaia in the eyes. "You do."

Manaia bites her lip nervously, a habit she had since she was a child. "Do you think we'd ever be something... more than what we already are?" she asks, slowly looking up at him. Her eyes held a sense of curiosity, wonder, and hope.

She tried to see through him, but his eyes were drawn to hers. Like they always are.

Miguel was always a hard case to crack. One can never know what he wanted, what he needed. A boy as blunt and "honest" as him, who would willingly try to know?

"No, Manaia. I think it would be best if we just stay as we are. Friends."

A beat.

"Okay.. that's fine by me," She whispers softly.

He nods his head for the fifth time that day.

Manaia smiles as he gives her bag back to her.

"Thanks for bringing me home, Miguel." She itches to say the stupid nickname she adored so much. She yearns to stand on her tippy toes and kiss his stupid face.

Manaia's heart strung the ugliest melody, thumping swiftly in comparison to the unstoppable rain that poured in front of them as they stood underneath the veranda. Throughout all this, she could only insult him with a word so small. Her heart was too big, yet the space in for him was empty.

As if on cue, the door swings open.

"Naia!" a small voice calls excitedly.

Miguel's eyes stay on Manaia when she turns away.

"Hi, baby," she says with a tone Miguel can't quite pick up. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Well, make it quick," another voice chimes in. Manaia looks up and nearly rolls her eyes.

She gives a look Miguel's never seen.

A figure behind Junior stares down at Miguel. He shifts uncomfortably.

"I was just going. I'll see you tomorrow, Manaia," Miguel is quick to say, putting up his umbrella and walking away before giving Manaia the chance to say her proper goodbyes.

"You didn't have to be rude, he just helped me get home," Manaia spits, pushing past the figure she calls her sister, picking up Junior in her arms.

"Yeah, well, I kind of have to see who's taking my sister away from being home, when she's got a brother back at home alone all day." her sister bites back.

"Alone? Pele, you're a University dropout, who is also unemployed, as well as not seeking to find a job. What business could you be doing outside of this house that's leaving Junior here all by himself?" She walks through the hallway of her home and into her room.

"You would rather I stay in a house with a fucking five year old and a creepy uncle, than go out? You're funny."

Manaia glares at her sister, who leans against the doorframe of her shared bedroom, "Don't use that language around Junior, at least?"

Pele scoffs, "Tsk, yeah, like you're such an innocent one."

Manaia feels her throat go dry. Pele laughs as a tease, more of a mock at her sister's growing tears.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"You need to stop bringing that stuff up. I was a kid."

"A fucked up kid, yeah."

Manaia gets up and pushes her sister out of her room, trying to withhold her growing rage. "Get out!"

prev chap | next chap

i know but then i dont fucking know man 😞

hi big g :> @h13246879

[nikimisery]

Season 1 Episode 2 - Wendigo

“Well, I'm hot blooded

Check it and see

I got a fever of a hundred and three

Come on baby, do you do more than dance?

I'm hot blooded, I'm hot blooded”

I found myself humming along to the Foreigner song, while I was reading Twilight. It had come out about a month ago, and I had mentioned to Dean that it sounded like it might be a fun little book to read. Honestly, I’m not fully sure where it came from, but I found it in my bag a few days ago, and it smelled faintly like pine, so there was really only one explanation, but he hadn’t mentioned it, so I wasn’t going to bring it up.

"You know Bella, Jacob?" Lauren asked—in what I imagined was an insolent tone—from across the fire.

"We've sort of known each other since I was born," he laughed, smiling at me again.

"How nice." She didn't sound…”

“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” Dean’s voice sounded out in the silence of the car

“Huh?”

“The book. Is it as good as you thought?”

“Oh, um, its okay. I’m not that far into it. This budding love triangle is going to give me a headache, though.” I responded with a small laugh.

“Love triangle, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re super interested in all of this.”

“Anyone ever tell you, you apologize too much?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at me through the rear view mirror. I didn’t get a chance to respond though, Sam jerked away from another obvious nightmare.

“You okay?” Dean asked, concern lacing his tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Another nightmare? Instead of answering him, Sam just clears his throat and turned away, looking out the window. “You wanna drive for a while?”

Laughing, Sam turned back to Dean “Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that.”

“Just thought you might want to. Never mind.”

Sitting up and leaning against the back of the front seat, I stuck my head up between the brothers.

“Ohhhhhhh can I drive?” I asked, trying so hard not to sound too excited about it. Dean just turns his head to stare at me, looking like I just asked him to kill a puppy.

“Not a chance in hell, doll.” Great. A new nickname. Scrunching up my nose to try and cover up the blush rising to my cheeks, I huffed and sat back in the seat again.

“Look, man, you’re worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I’m perfectly okay.”

“Mm-hm.”

“All right, where are we?” Sam asks as he grabbed the map, unfolding it in his lap.

“We are just outside of Grand Junction.”

 I decided to pick up my book again, tuning them out.

"How nice." She didn't sound like she thought it was nice at all, and her pale, fishy eyes narrowed.

"Bella," she called again, watching my face carefully, "I was just saying to Tyler that it was too bad none of the Cullens could come out today. Didn't anyone think to invite them?" Her expression of concern was unconvincing.

"You mean Dr. Carlisle Cullen's family?" the tall, older boy asked before I could respond, much to Lauren's irritation. He was really closer to a man than a boy, and his voice was very deep.

"Yes, do you know them?" she asked condescendingly, turning halfway toward him.

"The Cullens don't come here," he said in a tone that closed the subject, ignoring her question.”

             “It’s weird, man. These coordinates he left us. This Blackwater Ridge.” Sam says just as I tune back into the conversation.

             “What about it?” Dean asks.

             “There’s nothing there. It’s just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?”

As she contemplated the question, she looked out the window just in time to see a National Forest sign that said “Welcome to LOST CREEK COLORADO National Forest.” She loved the woods, the smell of the trees, all the sounds of nature. It felt like home to her, like it was where she belonged. They pulled up in front of the Ranger Station, deciding to get out and look around, trying to figure out why John had sent them here. As I stepped out of the car, I looked around, taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. I could feel the tension I didn’t even know I carried, leaving my shoulders, being surrounded by so much nature.

             “You coming, doll?” Breaking out of my daze, I opened my eyes and turned to look at Dean.

             “Yeah, right behind you.” I said with a smile. Entering the building, I could hear Sam up in front of me, start speaking.      

             “So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote.” He said, pointing to a 3D map of the forest. “It’s cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.”

             “Freya, come here. Dude, check out the size of this freaking bear.”

             “Jesus Christ, that thing is huge!” I said as Sam walked up behind me to look at the picture of a man standing behind a MUCH larger bear.

             “And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area. It’s no nature hike, that’s for sure.”

             “Hey, sweetheart. You said you’re really fast, right?” Dean asked me. Nodding at him, I waited for him to continue. “Think you could outrun a bear like that?” He asked with a grin.

             “I don’t need to outrun the bear, honey, I just need to outrun you.” I replied, patting his cheek as I turned to walk back over to the 3D map, Sam snickering to himself behind me.

             “Dude, yes….” Sam said, still laughing at Dean.

             “You kids aren’t planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?” Came a voice from behind us.

             “Oh, no, sir, we’re environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper.” Sam replied, looking up at the ranger with a small laugh.

             “Recycle, man.” Dean said, raising a fist in the air with a grin. This dude… One wonders how he’s so good at lying when he pulls stunts like that…

             “Bull. You’re friends with that Haley girl, right?”

             “Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger Wilkinson.” Dean responded after a second, leaning down to read the Ranger’s nametag.

             “Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?” The Ranger asked Dean, who simply shook his head. “You tell that girl to quit worrying, I’m sure her brother’s just fine.”

             “We will. Well that Haley girl’s quite a pistol, huh?”

             “That’s putting it mildly.”

             “Actually you know what would help, is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother’s return date.” Dean said, raising his eyebrows at the Ranger. Okay, I take back everything I just thought, maybe he is decent at this…

             “Thank you, Ranger Wilkinson.” I said as he handed the permit to Dean, tipped his hat at me and left. Sam was already ahead of us, heading out the door towards the Impala. Just as I went to open the door, Dean’s arm came up in front of me, blocking my exit, as he held the door closed. I could feel the warmth of his body seeping into my back as he leaned down to speak in my ear, his breath tickling my neck, sending shivers down my spine and causing goosebumps to erupt across my skin.

             “That wasn’t a very nice thing to say, now was it, doll? Two can play that game.” He spoke lowly. As quick as he was there, he was gone, holding the door open for me to walk out. I could not be more grateful for November in Colorado, as the temperature helped cool down my heated cheeks. He didn’t say anything else as he followed me out towards the car, looking at the permit as he walked.

             “What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?” Sam asked, stopping at the passenger door.

             “What do you mean?” Dean responded, looking a little confused by Sam’s question. I watched silently, looking between the brothers. The thought of Dean ‘hooking up’ with this Haley chick didn’t settle in my chest right, but I wasn’t going to say anything about it.

             “The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let’s just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?”

             “I don’t know, maybe we should know what we’re walking into before we actually walk into it?” Dean responded, sounding a little irritated with his brother. Pausing, they just stared at each other for a minute.

             “What?”

             “Since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later, anyway?” Dean asked.

             “Since now.” Turning away, Sam got in the car without another word. I looked up at Dean, a worried look in my eye, but he just shook his head and opened my door for me, closing it as soon as I was settled.

             “Really?” He says to Sam, getting in the driver’s seat, starting the car and driving off. 

We had just pulled up to the Collins house when Dean opened the glove box and grabbed out a couple of the fake badges.

             “You’ll have to remind me to make you some of these, doll, but for now, just let us do the talking, yeah?” He said to me, getting out of the car and opening my door for me.

             “Thank you.” I said, smiling shyly at him, head down. I heard him chuckle to himself as he shut the door behind me. Waiting for them to take the lead, I looked down the street. I lived in a place similar to this, a foster house. Memories of cigarettes being put out across my back playing behind my eyes.

             “Freya.” Dean’s voice pulled me out of the memories, his hand on my shoulder blade. “You okay? We’ve been saying your name.” I hated the worry in his eye.

             “Hm? Yeah. Good. I’m sorry.” I said, looking down again. Deciding I was done with this conversation, I started walking up to the house, letting Dean take point and knock on the door. A woman about my height, short brown hair opened the door.

             “You must be Haley Collins. I’m Dean, this is Sam and Freya. We’re, ah, we’re rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy.” Dean says to her. I had to applaud him, he can be quick on his feet when he needs to be, but I could still see her hesitation.

             “Lemme see some ID.” Dean pulls out the same fake I saw him taking out of the glove box in the car. I really hope she doesn’t notice it says Samuel Cole on it, instead of Dean…. Looking back in forth between the ID and Deans smile, she finally opened the door. “Come on in.”

             “Thanks.” He said with another smile.

             “That yours?” Haley asked him, nodding at the impala parked on the street.

             “Yeah.”

             “Nice car.” She said as she turned away and led us further into the house. Dean turned around and looked at Sam, mouthing something I didn’t catch, but I can only imagine. Rolling my eyes, I push past Dean to follow Haley into her kitchen.

             “So, if Tommy’s not due back for a while, how do you know something’s wrong?” Sam asked her, as he stepped into the kitchen behind me. Walking back towards us with a bowl in her hand, she sets it down on the table before turning to face Sam.

             “He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos – we haven’t heard anything in over three days now.”

             “Well, maybe he can’t get cell reception? “ I suggested to her. Out in a forest like this, it would make sense.

             “He’s got a satellite phone, too.” Well there goes that theory.

             “Could it be he’s just having fun and forgot to check in?” Comes Dean.

             “He wouldn’t do that.” Haley’s little brother snaps at him. They just stared at each other for a second, before the younger boy looks away. Haley breaking the tension, leaned over him, adding more food to the table.

             “Our parents are gone. It’s just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.” She said.

             “Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asked her.

             “Yeah.” Opening up her laptop, she pulled up the pictures for us to see. Sam sat down and started going through them, checking for anything that might help us. “That’s Tommy.” She points to a picture, double clicking on one of the files, pulling up a video for us to watch.

             “Hey Haley, day six, we’re still out near Blackwater Ridge. We’re fine, keeping safe, so don’t worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow.” As the video ends, something caught my eye in the top corner, but instead of saying something out loud, I tapped Sam’s arm twice. My only indication that he understood was the small nod he sent me.

             “Well, we’ll find your brother. We’re heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing.” Dean said to Haley.

             “Then maybe I’ll see you there. Look, I can’t sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I’m heading out in the morning, and I’m gonna find Tommy myself.”

             “I think I know how you feel.” Dean spoke to her, but his eyes were on Sam and I.

             “Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?” Sam asked.

             “Sure.”

             “Thank you for your time.” I told her as we made our way back outside. As soon as the front door closed, Dean turned to Sam and I.

             “You two want to clue me into that secret little conversation back there?”

             “Let’s go find something to eat, and we will show you.” Sam replied. 

The boys found a table in a quiet corner of the bar we had just entered, sitting down so we could discuss what we were walking into tomorrow morning. There was a game of pool going over by the windows that looked like it had just gotten started.

             “So, Blackwater Ridge doesn’t get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found.” Sam started, opening Johns journal on the table in front of us.

             “Any before that?” Dean asked as I pulled a couple of news articles out of my jacket pocket that I had found earlier.

             “Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack.” I told him, turning the articles to face him, Sam pulling out his laptop.

             “And again in 1959, and again before that in 1936. Every 23 years, just like clockwork.” Sam states as he loads up Tommy’s video. “Okay. Watch this. Here’s the clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy’s video to the laptop. Check this out.” He said as he clicked the mouse, playing the video.

             “This is what we noticed back at the Collins house.” I state to Dean.

             “Play it again.” He requests. Sam pulled the video clip back, repeating the shadow.

             “That’s three frames. That’s a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

             “Okay, I might not be able to out run that one…” I joke to the boys, Sam smiled at me and Dean just shook his head at me before hitting Sam on the shoulder.

             “Told you something weird was going on.”

             “Yeah. I got one more thing.” Sam said as he handed over another newspaper article. I hadn’t seen that one, so I leaned closer to see it. “In 59, one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive.”

             “Is there a name?”

Smiling at him, Sam just stood up and packed up his laptop and the newspaper articles before walking out the door.

             “Seems so?” I said to Dean before grabbing my jacket and following after his brother. I didn’t get very far though, before I was stopped by a hand on my elbow.

             “Where you going, sugar? It’s still early!” Said the mouth attached to the hand on me.

             “Umm, my friends and I are just leaving for the night.” I said. I wasn’t sure how to respond to this. People didn’t normally seek out my company.

             “Aww come on. Stay a while, play some pool with us.” He said. His breath hitting my face, it smelled like stale beer and cigarettes.

             “I think I’m good.” I responded, leaning away from him. I tried to take my elbow back, but he was determined he wanted to hold on to me and I didn’t want to hurt him. “Please let me go.”

             “No, I don’t think I will.” I was starting to panic a little bit when the smell of pine trees settled over me. Dean was here.

             “I think the lady asked you to let her go.” He said. His voice was low, threatening even, but it didn’t seem to phase the biker who had a hold of me.

             “And just who do you think you are, pretty boy?” Well, I couldn’t argue with that. He was a pretty boy.

             “A friend.” Was his only response, his hand coming to settle on my lower back. I was feeling a little more brave, now that Dean was there.

             “Do you like your hand?” I asked the guy.

             “Huh?”

             “Do you like your hand?” I asked again, motioning to the offending object.

             “What kind of question is that?” He was looking at me like I was stupid, but before I could respond to him, Dean stepped in again.

             "If you want to keep it, I suggest getting it off my girl.” His girl? Fuck me…. Dean had moved around in front of me now, his other hand coming up to grip the guys wrist. With his jaw clenched and his dark emerald eyes focused on this guy, he almost looked like an avenging angel. I should not be feeling this type of way, but damn it if it wasn’t the hottest thing I had ever seen.

             “Jesus, man.” The guy said as he finally let go of me. “She ain’t worth it.” He threw out as he turned his back and went back to his buddies. Dean stood still, watching him go for a few seconds before finally turning to me, his gaze softening, but the tension not leaving his body.

             “You good?”

             “Yeah. I didn’t want to hurt him. I’m sorry…” I trailed off. His hand came up to my chin, lifting my head to look at him.

             “Stop apologizing so much.” He said as gripped my shoulders and turned me around, steering me out of the bar and towards the car.

             “What took you guys so long, It’s cold out here?” Sam asked as soon as we were in eye sight.

             “She had to go to the bathroom. Didn’t want to leave her in there by herself.” Dean said to Sam as he, once again, opened my door for me. Stepping up to get into the car, I set my hand on his forearm.

             “Thank you.” 

Mr. Shaw was lighting a cigarette when he let the three of us into his house. I hated the smell, but I wasn’t about to tell this guy he couldn’t smoke in his own home.

             “Look, ranger, I don’t know why you’re asking me about this. It’s public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a –“

             “Grizzly? That’s what attacked them?” Sam interrupted him. Puffing on his cigarette, Mr. Shaw just nods.

             “The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?” Dean asked, but Mr. Shaw didn’t answer. “We knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.”

             “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don’t see what difference it would make.” Mr. Shaw paused in his words to sit down. “You wouldn’t believe me. Nobody ever did.” The way he said that, the utter defeat in his voice, pulled at my chest, so sitting down across from him, I reached out to him, grabbed his hand and spoke.

             “Mr. Shaw. Can you look at me?” I asked him. The boys were behind me, so I knew they wouldn’t see what I was going to do. Mr. Shaw finally looked up at me, meeting my eyes. I decided to show a little bit of myself to him, maybe he would see that he wasn’t alone, so I let my eyes glow. I saw the way his eyes widened, heard the way his breath caught in his throat, but instead of pulling away, he tightened his grip on my hands, tears in his eyes. “What did you see?” I asked softly.

             “Nothing… it moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like… no man or animal I ever heard.” He was looking directly into my eyes as he spoke.

             “It came at night?” Sam asked. Mr. Shaw nodded at him, but still wouldn’t look away from me. “Got inside your tent?” At that, he looked away and focused his gaze on Sam.

             “It got inside our cabin. I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn’t smash a window or break the door. It unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn’t even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.” He was looking into my eyes again by the end.

             “It killed them?” Sam asked.

             “Dragged them off into the night.” He said, shaking his head before he spoke again. “Why it left me alive… been asking myself that ever since.” He paused his words and took a deep breath. One of his hands let go of mine to reach for the collar of his shirt. “Did leave me this, though.” He pulled his collar down at that, revealing three long scars. Claw marks. Reaching up one of my hands, I let my fingers trace the scars. When I touched them, it was like I could feel the pain the claws inflicted. “There’s something evil in those woods. It was some sort of a demon.” He looked at me again.

             “Thank you, Mr. Shaw.” Sam said, the boys rising to leave. Standing up to leave behind them, Mr. Shaw caught my hand in his again.

             “Thank you.” He said to me. “No one has ever listened to me before.” With a small smile and a nod of my head, I followed the boys out to the car.  

Dean had found us a motel for the night and we had just left from checking out the room, walking back to the car to get our bags.

             “Spirits and demons don’t have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls.” Dean stated.

             “So it’s probably something else, something corporeal.”

             “Corporeal? Excuse me, professor.” Dean retorted, making me giggle a little.

Hearing me, he shot a smirk over his shoulder at me.

             “The claws, the speed that it moves… could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we’re talking about, we’re talking about a creature, and it’s corporeal. Which means we can kill it.” Dean finished, opening the door so we could all walk outside. I went to the backseat, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder, while Dean opened the trunk, propping open the weapons compartment with a shotgun, Sam and I joining him.

             “We cannot let that Haley girl go out there.” Sam said as he grabbed a couple of things to put in the duffle Dean was packing.

             “Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can’t go into the woods because of a big scary monster?” Man, the sarcasm is strong with this one, but even I couldn’t deny he had a point.

             “Yeah.” Sam replied. Dean and I shared a look before we both looked over at Sam.

             “Her brother’s missing, Sam. She’s not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend.” He said as he picked up the duffel bag.

             “Finding Dad’s not enough?” Sam asked as he slammed the weapons box and the trunk shut. “Now we gotta babysit too?” When Dean didn’t answer him, I could tell it upset him. “What.”

             “Nothing.” He threw the duffel bag at Sam as he turned away, placing his hand on my back and guiding us away from Sam. He trudged past us with the duffel bag and into the motel without a word. I almost felt bad for him, but I didn’t understand why he was being so harsh about all of this.

             “Hey, Freya?” Dean called out to me, putting a hand on my elbow to pull me to a stop.

             “What’s up?”

             “Can I ask you something?”

             “You just did.” I said with a cheeky grin.

             “Smartass.” He said with a smile before his face got serious again.

             “What happened back at Shaw’s house? How did you get him to talk?” I debated his question for a second. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I was afraid he would be mad at me if he knew.

             “Promise you won’t be mad?”

             “I promise.” Instead of vocalizing what I did, I lowered my head again and closed my eyes. I had never shown him my eyes. I’m not going to lie, I was really anxious about how he was going to react, but I had also decided that I didn’t want to lie to him, it didn’t feel right to me. So I took a deep breath, raised my head and opened my eyes. I heard his breath catch in his throat, but he didn’t back away. If anything, it felt like he was closer to me than he was before.

             “I just showed him he wasn’t alone.”

             “Do you know what color your eyes glow?” His question caught me off guard, but I answered none the less.

             “I’ve never seen them before.”

             “Purple. Dark purple. It’s beautiful.” He responded. He grabbed my elbow again and dragged me over to the impala where he could show me in the mirror. “Look.”

             I stared at my reflection for a moment, almost not recognizing the girl looking back. Long, dark red hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun, pale white skin. But the purple eyes glowing back at me were almost ethereal. I heard a gasp and it took a second to realize it was me who made that noise. Looking back up at Dean, I smiled at him. He just shrugged and walked away, opening the motel door and waiting for me to catch up.

  As I laid down on the couch, trying to sleep, my mind strayed to the green eyed hunter laying in the bed not too far from me. How much things had changed between us in the few weeks I had been with them. I knew he didn’t fully trust me, and I still didn’t fully trust him, or Sam for that matter, but I couldn’t deny that I felt drawn to him in a way I have never felt before. I found myself thinking about how he would react to something before I did it. Found myself searching him out whenever I knew he was close, looking to him for his reactions. The way he stood up for me at the bar earlier tonight, no one has ever done something like that before. It was confusing to me, my need to be near him. Every time he touched me, his hand on my arm, or on my back, made my heart race so much I thought it would beat out of my chest. It was like I could breathe better when I knew he was near. And when Haley’s little brother snapped at him at their house, I had to hold back a growl. I needed to figure this out. I’ve seen the girls that Dean looked at, tall, pretty, thin…. I was nothing like them, and a mysterious monster on top of that. I wasn’t in his orbit, so I needed to get him out of my head. Sleep finally found me, slowly pulling me out of the torturous spiral my thoughts had put me in. 

When we pulled up to the trailhead and parked the car, Sam got out to gather our bags and Dean turned around, his arm on the back of the seat for leverage as he spoke to me. 

“While we are out there, stay close to me, yeah?” He said to me, “Or Sam, you know, one of us.” The tips of his ears were a little red, when he finished his sentence, but I didn’t call him out on it. 

“Yeah, okay.” I replied to him. He just nodded as he got out of the car, opening my door for me as well. 

“You got room for three more?” Dean called out to Haley.

“Wait, you want to come with us?” Haley answered.

“Who are these guys?” The guide Haley hired asked her. 

“Apparently, this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue.” 

“You’re rangers?” The guide asked

“That’s right.” Dean answered as Sam walked past us all, handing me my backpack with a nod. 

“And you’re hiking out in biker boots and jeans?” Haley asked Dean, looking him up and down. Not going to lie, I’m not really liking that too much, but I didn’t say anything. 

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.” He said to her. Sweetheart. He called her sweetheart. While sarcasm was littering his tone, he still called her sweetheart. My chest hurt when I heard it. Fuck I needed to get this under control and quick. Dean glanced at me as he walked past me towards where Sam went. Apparently I didn’t hide the look on my face well enough, because his eyes softened when he looked at me, his hand brushing across my back as he moved past me. 

“What, you think this is funny? It’s dangerous back country. Her brother might be hurt.” the guide says. 

“Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be. We just want to help them find their brother, that’s all.” Dean responds, walking past everyone and heading into the woods. I promised him I would stay close to him, so I follow after him, jogging a bit to catch up. The guide, who’s name I found out is Roy, took the lead, then Dean, myself, Haley and Ben came next, with Sam bringing up the rear. 

“Roy, you said you did a little hunting?” Dean said, trying to make conversation. 

“Yeah, more than a little.” 

“Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?” 

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.” Roy replied as Dean passed him. 

“Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?” He stopped abruptly by Roy grabbing him. I really did not like that move and I couldn’t help the growl that left my throat at that. Sam came up behind me placing a hand on my shoulder. 

“Breathe,” he said. 

“Whatcha doing, Roy?” Dean asked him. Watching him grab a stick, he pokes the bear trap Dean had almost just stepped in. 

“It’s a bear trap.” Dean said, looking a little sheepish. Roy dropped the stick at that, walked around Dean and resumed the lead. Dean stopped me as I went to walk by him. “You good?” He asked me. 

“Fine.”

“You can’t just go growling at everyone when they do something you don’t like. You gotta keep that in check, doll.” 

“I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out when he grabbed you. I’m sorry…” I trailed off. He didn’t say anything, but his hand slipped up my arm and cupped the back of my head for a moment, before he dropped his hand and motioned for me to catch up with Sam. I had just reached him when I heard Haley talking to Dean. 

“You didn’t pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag. You’re not rangers.” She said to him as she grabbed his arm. Another small growl escaped me, but Dean just nodded to me, letting me know he was okay before he turned towards her. “So who the hell are you?” Ben walked by them just as Sam and I reached where they were standing, Dean nodding for us to go on ahead, a soft smile in my direction as he shook her hand off his arm. Stupid me and my stupid heart couldn’t help but let out a breath at that action. 

“Sam and I are brothers, Freya’s with me… with us, and we’re looking for our father. He might be here, we don’t know. I just figured that you and me, we’re in the same boat.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me that from the start?” 

“I’m telling you now. ‘Sides, it’s probably the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman. …ever.” He said before his eyes slid to me. “Well, almost ever.” He said before focusing back on Haley. “So we okay?” There was a pregnant pause that seemed to last forever. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

“And what do you mean I didn’t pack provisions?” He asked her as he pulled a bag of peanut M&M’s out of his pocket, sticking his hand in the bag and pulling out a handful as he walked past her. Peanut M&M’s. Wait a minute. 

“Wait a minute. Dean, those are mine! Where did you get those?” I yell as I run after him. “Hey, dipshit, give them back!” He laughed at me, holding them up out of my reach when I tried to get them from him. “Dean, come on. You think it’s smart to keep me from my chocolate?” Sam is laughing at us now as well. 

“Sorry, dollface!” He laughed again as I jumped, trying to reach the bag, but Sam, ever my hero, came up behind him and grabbed the bag, putting it in my hand before ruffling my hair and walking off to catch up with everyone. “Dammit, Sam!” Dean yelled at him, trying to get the bag back from me, but I just stuck my tongue out at him and stayed just out of his reach, laughing as I ran away hiding behind Sam. Dean just threw his hands up in surrender and walked off, following everyone. 

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge.” Roy spoke up.

“What coordinates are we at?” Sam asked

“Thirty-Five and minus one-eleven.” Roy said. Looking at his GPS. Walking past him, I bumped Dean’s shoulder. When he looked at me, I motioned to my ears. He nodded, walking up to Sam. 

“You hear that?” He asked Sam. 

“Yeah. Not even crickets.” 

“I can’t even hear the insects, guys. I stopped being able to hear nature maybe 8-10 minutes ago.” I told both of them, looking around. It will be dark soon.

“I’m gonna go take a look around.” Roy said. 

“You shouldn’t go off by yourself.” Sam told him, still looking around at the trees around us. 

“‘That’s sweet. Don’t worry about me.” Roy replied as he waved his gun, pushing me aside as he made his way between the boys. 

“Can I hit him?” I asked the boys. 

“Only if I can.” Dean responded, glaring after Roy. Sighing, he continued, “All right, everybody stays together. Let’s go.” Motioning everyone to follow after Roy, his hand coming to rest on my lower back, guiding me to follow his brother. 

“Haley! Over here!” Roy shouted. Haley immediately took off towards his voice, the rest of us trailing behind. 

“Oh my god.” Haley breathed out. The tents that surrounded the campsite were torn open and bloody. Supplies scattered all around. The smell of blood was almost overwhelming, but there was something else, underlying, that I could smell. It almost smelled like damp earth. Dark, hidden, damp earth. Walking up to Dean, I put my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. 

“The smells. Blood is prominent, but there is something else I don’t understand.” “What is it?” 

“Before I met your dad, sometimes I would hunker down in people’s basements or under bridges. They always smelt the same. Dark, damp dirt. Wet earth.” I told him, scrunching my eyebrows in confusion. Before he could respond, Haley’s shouting cut him off. 

“Tommy?” She yelled out, taking her backpack off, throwing it on the ground. “Tommy!”

“Shhh.” Sam told her, catching up with her. 

“Tommy!” She ignored him, shouting again. 

“Shh-hh-hh!” 

“Why?” She asked him. 

“Something might still be out there.” He responded.

“I don’t like this, Dean.” I told him, walking away from him to the edge of the trees. I could feel him following closely behind me, he stopped me with a hand on my elbow, pointing down to the ground. Drag marks. Crouching down, we inspected them.

“Sam!” he yelled out to his brother. The smell of coffee was extremely comforting, compared to the overwhelming blood stuck in my nostrils as Sam drew near to us. Crouching down next to us, he looked at the ground. “The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That’s weird.” He said quietly. Standing up, he continued, “I’ll tell you what, that’s no skinwalker or black dog.” Walking back towards the camp, I noticed Haley had found a cell phone covered in blood. She turned the phone over, looking at the back of it when Dean crouched down next to her. “Hey, he could still be alive.” But instead of answering him, she just gave him a look. 

“Help! Help!” 

Roy took off running in the direction of the voice, everyone following behind him. I could have sworn I heard something moving in the trees off to my left, but when I looked, I didn’t see anything. 

“Help! Somebody!” 

“Dean, there isn’t anyone else here.” I told him, pointing to my nose. 

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn’t it?” Haley asked us. Sam noticed the exchange between Dean and I so he turned to me. 

“You’re sure?” He asked me. Nodding, I looked around, trying to see if I could notice anything. “Everybody back to camp.” Sam said, herding the rest of us back to the campsite. “Our packs!” Haley let out. I still had my backpack on, but everyone had dropped their bags. Which meant our weapons were gone too. 

“So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.” Roy complained. 

“What is going on?” Haley asked.

“Don’t suppose you have anything useful in that bag, would you, doll?” Dean asked, leaning in close, so he could speak in my ear. 

“Define useful.” I whispered back. 

“All I have is this.” He said as he lifted up his colt. 

“I’ve got a hunting knife, but Dean. I’ve always kind of been the weapon. Never really needed to carry one?” Grumbling to himself, he looked down at me. 

“Could have just said no…” 

“It’s smart. It wants to cut us off so we can’t call for help.” Sam interrupted our quiet conversation. 

“You mean someone, some nut job out there just stole all our gear.” Roy shot back. Can I just say, Sam has an epic bitch face. Like. It’s epic. Especially when it’s directed at Roy. Sam holds his look for a second before coming over to Dean and I. 

“I need to speak with you. In private.” Dean’s hand finds a home on my lower back again as we walk away out of earshot of the rest of the group. “Good. Let me see Dad’s journal.” As soon as it’s in his hands, he’s searching for one particular page. When he found it, he turned it around, pointing it out to Dean and I. “All right, check that out.” He said, pointing to a First Nations - style drawing of a figure. 

“Oh come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I’ve never even heard of one this far west.” 

“Think about it, Dean, the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice.” Sam said. 

“The smell makes sense.” I told him. 

“Smell?” Sam asked

“Earlier, she told me she smelled damp dirt and couldn’t figure it out.” Dean answered for me. “Great. Well then this is useless.” He said lifting up his Colt again. I couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at that one. “Shut it, sunshine,” he glared at me, but there was no heat in his eyes. He almost looked amused. Especially when my cheeks heated up again. Damn him and his ability to make me blush. A small smile briefly graced Sam’s face before he handed John’s journal back to Dean. 

“We gotta get these people to safety.” He said, turning back around and heading back to the camp. “All right, listen up, it’s time to go. Things have gotten… more complicated.” Sam addressed the rest of the group. 

“What?” Haley asked.

“Kid, don’t worry. Whatever’s out there, I think I can handle it.” Roy snarked. 

“It’s not me I’m worried about. If you shoot this thing, you’re just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now.” Came Sam’s response. 

“One, you’re talking nonsense. Two, you’re in no position to give anybody orders. 

“Relax.” Dean tried to de-escalate the two, but it didn’t work.

“We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I’m trying to protect you.” Sam popped back. Roy stepped into Sam’s space, getting right up in his face. This time, I stepped between the two of them, my hand on Sam’s chest, trying to get him to calm down.  

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night.” Roy said. Sam was pushing against my hand again, but he wasn’t moving me. 

“Yeah? It’s a damn near perfect hunter. It’s smarter than you, and it’s gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.” 

“You know you’re crazy, right?” Roy laughs at him, but when he tried to push me out of the way, that’s when Dean decided to jump in. 

“Yeah? You ever hunt a wen-” Dean jumped in between Roy and I, pushing Sam back. 

“Roy!” Haley shouted. 

“Chill out.” Dean said to Sam. Once he was satisfied he wasn’t going to do something stupid, he turned to me. My eyes hadn’t left Roy since he tried to put hands on me, but Dean’s gentle hand on my elbow brought me out of my murderous thoughts. 

“Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I’m not leaving here without him.” Haley spoke up. The three of us shared a look, nodding in acceptance. 

“It’s getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We’ll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves.” Dean said

“How?” Haley asked. 

“I may be able to help with that.” I said, pulling my backpack off, digging my mom’s journal out. 

Haley and Ben were sitting around the campfire and Dean, Sam and I were drawing. 

“One more time, that’s -” 

“Anasazi symbols. It’s for protection. The wendigo can’t cross over them.” Dean answered her. Roy laughed at us, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. “Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy.” Nudging me to follow him, he headed over to sit next to Sam at the edge of the campsite. “You wanna tell us what’s going on in that freaky head of yours?”

“Dean -” Sam started. 

“No, you’re not fine. You’re like a powder keg, man, it’s not like you. I’m supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?” 

“Dad’s not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right?” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Tell you the truth, I don’t think Dad’s ever been to Lost Creek.” Dean said with a sigh. 

“Then let’s get these people back to town and let’s hit the road. Go find dad. I mean, why are we still even here?” 

“This is why.” Dean responded by pulling out John’s journal and holding it up. “This book. This is dad’s single most valuable possession - everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he’s passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.” Shaking his head, Sam looks up at Dean. 

“That makes no sense. Why doesn’t he just - call us? Why doesn’t he - tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?” 

“I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad’s giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.” 

“Dean… no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica’s killer. It’s the only thing I can think about.” 

“Okay, all right, Sam, we’ll find him, I promise. Listen to me. You’ve gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can’t keep it burning over the long haul. It’s gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man.” Looking down at the ground, Sam gathered his thoughts before looking back up. 

“How do you do it? How does Dad do it?” he asked Dean. Glancing over at the siblings over by the fire, he focuses his attention back on his own brother. 

“Well for one, them.” He nods back at the campfire. “I mean, I figure our family’s so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Make things a little bit more bearable.” Grinning over at me before turning back to Sam, he continues. “I’ll tell you what else helps. Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can.” That pulls a smile to Sam’s face. 

“Help me! Please!” 

Standing up, Dean pulls out his Colt, his hand resting on my elbow. 

“Help!”

Sam was shining his flashlight about, but we still couldn’t see the wendigo.

“He’s trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put.” Dean told everyone. 

“Inside the magic circle?” Roy snarked 

“Help! Help me!” It trailed off, growling

“Okay, that’s no grizzly.” Roy finally admitted, pointing his gun out to the dark. Haley had her arm around her brother, trying to comfort him. But as something rushes past, she shrieked. 

“It’s here.” Sam said. 

“Freya, you got anything?” Dean calls back to me, never taking his eyes off the trees. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on my hearing. 

“Left.” A gunshot rang out as soon as the word left my mouth. 

“I hit it!” Roy shouts, taking off running off towards the direction he shot.

“Roy, no! Roy!” Dean yelled after him. Turning to Haley and Ben, he shouts at them. “Don’t move.” I had already taken off after Roy, catching up to him just as the Wendigo grabbed him by the neck. Diving for him, I grabbed his legs, getting pulled up with him, but the Wendigo knocked me off of Roy, flinging me back into another tree across the clearing. 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked me as he helped me stand up.

“Peachy. I think the bitch broke my leg.” I told him as I leaned against him. “I tried to stop it. I tried to hold onto him. I wasn’t fast enough.” 

“You got a pretty nasty bruise, doll.” He said, thumbing at my cheek where the wendigo hit me. 

“I’m okay. I’ll heal. Can you help me back to camp?” He nodded at me, putting his arm around my waist to hold my weight better. “Did you find anything, Sam?” I asked him as he came back over to us. 

“He’s gone.” 

“Let's get back.” I told them. When we got back to camp, Dean explained to Haley and Ben how we lost Roy and couldn’t find him, helping me sit down on a log by the fire. 

“We’re safe for now. Try and get some sleep.” Dean says to me as he sits down next to me, keeping his arm around me. 

“Yeah, okay.” I responded, laying my head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t… I mean, these types of things, they aren’t supposed to be real.” I heard Haley say as I stirred. Waking up, I realized I was on the ground, my head in Dean’s lap, leaning up against the same log he helped me sit on last night. 

“I wish I could tell you different.” Dean responded as he helped me sit up. “How are you feeling?” He turned to me. I just nodded to him, smiling to reassure him I was good. 

“How do we know it’s not out there watching us?” She asked him

“We don’t. But we’re safe for now.” 

“How do you know about this stuff?” I glanced up at Dean, seeing him trying to decide how to answer it. 

“Kind of runs in the family.”  He responded. Sam walked over to us at that point, everyone standing up to join him. 

“You’re leg?” Haley asked me. “Wasn’t it broken last night?” 

“Probably shattered.” I responded, walking over to Sam who was holding my backpack out to me. 

“But you’re walking on it?” She sounded so confused. 

“Told you she was special.” Dean joked with her, smirking over at me. Fucking blushing and this stupid fucking dumb pretty boy. 

“Hey.” Sam interrupted. “So we’ve got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch.” 

“Well, hell, you know I’m in.” Dean smirks. Sam pulls out John’s journal, showing the page about the wendigo to Haley and Ben. 

“Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means ‘evil that devours’.” Sam explained. 

“They’re hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter.” Dean continued. 

“How’s a man turn into one of those things?” Haley asked. I was moving around the campsite, trying to find the lighter fluid I knew I had seen yesterday. Dean had found a couple of empty bottles, but was still looking around for the rest of what we needed. 

“Well, it’s always the same. During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp.” Dean filled in. 

“Like the Donner party.” Ben asked. I threw him a thumbs up, chuckling to myself at the comparison. Dean just smirked at me, shaking his head. 

“Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality.” Sam said. 

“If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You’re always hungry.” Dean took his turn. 

“So if it’s true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Haley asked the brothers. 

“You’re not gonna like it.” I answered for them. The brothers glanced at each other before turning back to Haley.

“Tell me.” 

“More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there.” Dean answered her.

“And then how do we stop it?”

“Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically -” pointing over to where I was raising the lighter fluid up, then holding up the beer bottles and white cloth he had picked up. “We gotta torch the sucker.” 

Dean and I were leading the way through the woods, Molotov cocktails in hand. Haley was behind us, followed by Ben, then Sam. I noticed the smell of wet earth was getting stronger, but I couldn’t make out where it was coming from. 

Sam had passed us at some point, taking the lead. 

“Guys.” Sam started. 

“What is it?” Dean asked him when we caught up with him. Pointing at the claw marks, Sam spoke.

“You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow.” I heard the rustle over to the left and my head snapped in that direction, Dean following my line of sight. The growling came from behind us, trees rustling all around us. Haley noticed the blood dripping on her jacket and looked up just in time to leap out of the way as Roy’s corpse landed right where she was just standing. Dean made his way over to Roy, examining him as Sam went to help Haley up. 

“You okay? You got it?” He asked her.

“His neck’s broken.” Dean said to me. The growling cut him off from saying anything else to me. “Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!” He yelled, grabbing me and pulling me up behind him. Ben tripped, but Sam hurried back to help him up. I lost sight of him after that, but hearing Haley scream made me turn back around. The last thing I remember was the Wendigo hands on either side of my head before a searing pain shot through my whole body. I heard Dean yelling my name, but it all went black. 

Pain. That’s all I felt. My entire body felt like it was on fire, burning from the inside out. I could hear Haley yelling to cut him down, but it’s like I was underwater. Groaning, I tried to open my eyes, but they just weren’t working. 

“Freya? Holy shit, Freya!” I felt his hands on my face as the familiar scent of pine trees blanketed me. “Come on, doll, open your eyes for me. Fuck, come on. You can do it.” 

“Dean?” I called out. My throat hurt, like I hadn’t had anything to drink in years. 

“That’s right, sweet girl. Come on, open your eyes for me.” After what felt like forever, I was able to get them to open up a little. It was dark, underground somewhere, that much I could tell. “Let’s get you up. Come on, you can do it.” Dean encouraged me as he and Sam helped me stand up, one on each side of me. 

“My whole body hurts.” I mumbled out as I leaned heavily on Dean. 

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah? Then we can patch you up. We found Tommy, the Wendigo is out. I found a couple of flare guns, so that will have to do. You with me?” He asked me.

“Let’s do it.” I tried to smile at him, but it came out as more of a grimace. We were almost to the exit when I heard it. The wendigo was back, growling through the halls. 

“Looks like someone’s home for supper.” I told Dean. 

“We’ll never outrun it.” Haley countered. The brothers paused, looking at each other. 

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean pipped up.

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam answered him. 

“All right, listen to me.” Dean started, turning to the Collins siblings. “Stay with Sam. He’s gonna get you out of here.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Haley asked him, but he simply grabbed my hand and winked, walking away and pulling me with him. 

“Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that’s right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.” Dean yelled out, trying to get the wendigo’s attention. Of course my brain decided that was the perfect time to jump in. Yeah, I bet you do, pretty boy… “Can you hear him?” He asked me. 

“He’s close.” I told him. “I can hear him shuffling. Follow me.” I told him as we wound through a few different tunnels, finally coming up on the back side of the wendigo. He had cornered Sam and the Collins. 

“Hey!” Dean yelled out at him, causing him to turn around. He shot at him, hitting him straight in the stomach, lighting him up in flames. “Not bad, huh?” He says with a smirk, looking between Sam and I. I just shook my head as Sam grinned at him. 

I was leaning against the Impala, watching everything around me. I could hear Ben talking to the officer about the ‘huge 800-900 lb grizzly’ we faced, as Sam walked over to me, leaning next to me. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“Tired, but yeah. I’m okay.” I said, turning to look up at him. “Are you?” 

“I’ll get back to you on that.” He responded just as Dean and Haley made their way over to us. Sam had made his way over to the ambulance, it was his turn to get checked out.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” She tells Dean and I, but Dean just grins at me, causing Haley to smile, despite everything. 

“Must you cheapen the moment?” She chuckles. 

“Yeah.” Dean chuckles right back, just as a paramedic walked up, catching Haley’s attention. 

“You riding with your brother?” 

“Yeah.” Turning to Ben, she says, “Let’s go.” Turning back to us, she kissed Dean on the cheek before turning around, following the paramedic. “I hope you find your father.” she called back over her shoulder. “Thanks, Sam. Freya.” She said with a smile, climbing into the back of the ambulance with her brothers.

Both brothers came and sat on either side of me, watching the ambulance close up. 

“Man, I hate camping.” Dean groaned. 

“Me too.” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was so bad.” I jumped in. 

As the ambulance drives away, Dean leans up, looking across me to Sam.

“Sam, you know we’re gonna find dad, right?” 

“Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I’m driving.” Dean tossed the keys to Sam before turning to me. 

“Freya, do you remember what happened out there?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When the wendigo caught us. Do you remember anything?” Dean pressed. 

“I remember seeing him, he grabbed my face. But then I guess he must have knocked me out.” I turned my head to see Sam shaking his head. 

“He didn’t knock you out, Freya.” Sam said. 

“What do you mean? I blacked out.” I told him. 

“Freya, you didn’t have a heartbeat. I checked. I heard the snap.” Dean started, turning away from me to take a deep breath. “Doll, he broke your neck.” It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I leaned back against the car again to get my bearings. 

“There’s no way. I mean, it would have killed me, right?” I said quietly. 

“That’s the thing, Freya. It did kill you. You were dead.” Sam said. 

“That doesn’t make sense.” The world was starting to spin at this point. I died? I was trying to catch my breath, but it was coming out in short spurts. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me. Freya, sweetheart, look at me.” Dean said, taking hold of my face, making me look at him. “Breathe. In and out, come on. Breathe with me.” He started taking deep breaths, putting one of my hands on his chest so I could feel his breathing. I could feel myself starting to even out. “Good girl.” He said, still making me breathe with him. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand what’s going on. I’m sorry.” I mumbled. 

“What did I say about apologizing?” He asked me. I chuckled a bit, but I leaned down, my forehead against his chest for a second. 

“Thank you.” 

“You don’t have to thank me. Get in the car. Let’s find somewhere to get some sleep, yeah?” He said to me, walking me around the car to the backseat. Once I was settled, he climbed into the passenger seat, Sam in the driver’s seat. 

“One of these days, you’re gonna let me drive, Winchester.” I said, sleep already trying to claim me. 

“Don’t bet on it, sweetheart. Don’t bet on it.” 

“Why try, I know why

The feeling inside me says it’s time I was gone

Clear head, new life ahead

I want to be king now not just one more pawn

Fly by night away from here

Change my life again

Fly by night goodbye my dear

My ship isn’t coming and I just can’t pretend”

The sound of the engine and the music was slowly pulling me under, but what really helped me rest was realizing that when Dean called me sweetheart, this time, the way he said it was so different than how he said it to Haley a few days ago. That petty side of my brain kept thinking ‘Ha, take that! That’s what you get!’ but the logical side of my brain kept telling me that he talks to everyone like that. He’s a natural flirt. It doesn’t mean anything. But that didn’t change the warmth settling in my chest as I drifted off to sleep. Shit….. I was fucked….