#one of the main reasons they have trouble getting along i think

[thefirstlioveyou]

Mike's Core Fear - No, it isn't not being needed/loved, and no, he doesn't actually need El to need him

Disclaimer: this is technically a discussion on whether mike's Enneagram is type 6 or 2, but this is can still read as a general analysis on mike's actual driving fear. i've been stumped on which he is because of his whole thing with wanting to be needed by el, but still somehow matching entirely as a type 6. i realized while how it may seem his fear is not being needed... it's not the core fear driving mike's actions. also, i'm still learning about the enneagram. bare with me if i mess up or misunderstand something lol. and please correct me

Mike isn't a Type Two just because he wants to be needed by El. He just doesn't relate to any of the motivations of a Two. He isn't wanting or expecting appreciation for his efforts. He doesn't feel under appreciated. Even though he technically is, that isn't relevant to him here. He doesn't care about that. It's the exact opposite. Mike doesn't feel deserving. He feels like he does nothing. He feels inferior to El.

If he is not a Two, this means at his core, Mike's deepest fear isn't not being loved/needed like we've been thinking. Don't get me wrong, it is one of his wants (I mean.. Who doesn't want to be needed and loved?). It's something he canonically cares about... It's just not for the reason we've been thinking. It's not what he desires the most. It's not what he truly fears.

I think his core fear is something along the lines of abandonment/rejection and being without support/guidance, making him a Type Six.

i can't really articulate my explanation with all the terminology since i'm still learning more and more about enneagram typing. but I will try to make sense in my own way lol.

here are some quick things that show me mike's afraid of abandonment and to be without support/guidance:

- he is constantly losing will and el throughout the show in different ways, affecting him greatly every time. loss is already a consistent theme in his story.

- mike hides the real reason for his bruise from el, avoiding potential rejection or embarrassment. he doesn't want el to see him the way others do and essentially drive her away.

- before meeting will, he claims to have felt so scared and alone because he didn't have any friends and knew no one. fear went away once he did finally meet someone. not a lot of kids express feeling scared and alone with tears on the first day of school. scared, sure!! who isn't? but scared and alone? now that's another thing, especially just for the first day.

- one of his fears is revealed in dustin's book. he is scared of letting down the ones he loves. what happens when you let someone down? you're at risk of losing that person's respect, love, support, etc.

- will's "what if they don't like the truth?" resonates with mike. this is similar to the point above. mike is afraid to el the truth because he doesn't want to disappoint and let her down - he's at risk of losing her entirely.

- when mike tries to reach el in s2 on halloween through the walkie talkie, he talks about having a bad day and wishing she was there. he also reaches out again to her after having a bad dinner with his parents and being forced to donate his toys as a punishment. he doesn't specify that to her, but it becomes clear why he's trying to communicate to her. he's trying to cope with events in his own life.

- during mike's monologue, he admits he doesn't know how to live without el. hmmm.

that all being said... as you can probably tell, there's a specific pattern when it comes to el lol. i think it's safe to say:

mike doesn't need el to need him - he needs her.

why? well it makes perfect sense. el is his shield. she has protected him from the main thing that brought him trouble his whole life - his bullies (and the supernatural)

But, she is also the superhero he feels inferior to, the superhero he wishes he could be.. but instead is lois lane (actually, he feels even less than her).

season 1, el protects mike and saves him in multiple occasions from bullies. he is saved from getting ass beat by troy. he is saved from literal death. she saves the whole group as a whole in multiple occasions from the supernatural and government.

mike calls her a weapon. this is important because the only thing mike's seen her use her powers as defense at that point was to defend him from his bullies and when him and lucas were fighting. interesting huh?

Before we see her save him from bullies, we are introduced to the group's experience with bullying. we get a scene where mike is tripped and ends up with a scab on his chin, which he hides from her until she manages to get the truth out of him. She tells him she understands.

ALL THIS is why he keeps referring back to her powers and putting her on a pedestal. THIS is why he sees himself as lois lane and her as superman. Without her, he has no actual defense or "weapon." Without her, he would've died because of his bullies. He is projecting what he wishes he could be on her.

"You can fly." no?? she can make you fly, mike

This is one of the reasons why the cliff scene is SO important. Mike and Dustin are confronted with their bullies who are looking for revenge. The bullies threaten Mike. If he doesn't jump off the cliff, they will cut off Dustin's baby teeth. Mike is defenseless. He doesn't have powers. He can't fight someone who has a knife. His aim is shit enough. He can't do anything. He has to jump and throw away his life, ultimately letting the bullies win. With true bravery, he steps off the cliff for his friend. Gone. Oh wait. He's saved by a supernatural force. He doesn't actually fall to death - He flies his way back to the surface instead! Winning against the bullies... The bullies running away scared... Except... that was all of El's doings. Not his. She's the one who saved him and Dustin. Not him. She's the one who gets the praise, not him. Why would he? Over someone like that? Mike gets it. He's just as impressed.

Similar thing happens in the sauna test. While Mike is the only one with the courage to stop Billy from choking El, it still isn't enough. He once again has to be saved by her.

Notice how he doesn't even try to defend himself as Troy goes for him. He's still like he is in the sauna when Billy has him trapped.

He doesn't fight back. He may start the fight... But he never can finish it. It's either physically impossible or because of discouragement. But, that doesn't stop Mike from for some reason trying again. Still no good.

And even more to think about: He goes about how he thinks El doesn't need him anymore. But.. when has she even suggested to him that she needs him? Like, actually? He's literally just assuming that.

S1, before the trauma of losing her, he was genuinely just trying to help her because she actually did need help. S2, she's not even there. He's literally desperately trying to reach out to her without even hearing anything back from her. He's the one that needs her, not the other way around. S3, she literally basically says it to his face she doesn't need him. S4, el's actions to mike are closed off. she lied the entire time. it's not like she was begging for his help and for him the whole time?

We only ever see HER saving and protecting Mike, not the other way around. There is nothing for Mike to think she needs him. Therefore... This whole thing is just another case of mike projecting once again. Classic Michael! Also very much a Six thing - Projection of fears and insecurities.

Now that we got the whole Mike and El thing out of the way..

If he is a Two, and if he fears not being needed the most, and to be needed is *the* desire, where does the forced conformity part of his storyline even come from then?

Seeing him as a Six makes the forced conformity bit align far better than if he really is a Two.

Season 2. He is immediately confused by Lucas and Dustin's interest in Max. He doesn't understand their crushes the whole season and ends up pissed as hell by it. He refuses to let her in the Party and rejects her (something a type two would not do). In his eyes, she is ruining the structure of the group. Lucas and Dustin spend more time with her during Halloween and ruins his day, later complaining about it to El briefly on the walkie talkie.

He just can't understand their obsession with this girl. He is behind all of them, he feels.. at least based on the least possibly obvious blocking /s.

He's alone on this. They all agree on this except him. The structure of the group is falling apart due to crushes and girls when he obviously doesn't want them to go to the direction.

But by the end of the season, while sitting alone at the snowball as the rest of his friends dance with someone, this is where he finally decides to give in and join the rest in growing up and focus on girls. Mike doesn't want to be behind and alone, but he can't stop this change. They have to grow up. He chooses to stick to society's rules because that's the most secure way through. That's where his friends are, his source of support and guidance, so that's where he'll be.

He needs El because he needs the strength and protection she gives that he believes he doesn't have himself, which he must learn to conquer. He does not want to be left behind and therefore conforms to fit in with his friends, pushing aside all the things he really actually wants. Despite his overwhelming insecurities, he wants to be the paladin he is in DnD. He wants to lead a structured group to victory. He wants to lead his own life instead of following societal expectations, even if he's alone on it (which he won't be)

Mike is stuck with lots of fears and insecurities and is afraid of being without support or guidance. "I don't know how to live without you" tells you exactly what Mike needs to learn - How to live without someone like El who shields him. He must become a hero himself and must believe it is possible, regardless of what his little negative head tells him. He is meant to be Superman.

Mike is a six. End of the post.

(specifically 6w7 but not the argument here lol)

[skitskatdacat63]

happy vettonso day!!!! I am smooching you back (also I imagine this must be similar to the ref you made that won't see the light of day)

and never apologize for rambling in tags!! I love them every time!! you are so right, fernando's answer is so much more loaded and he gives the game away in the process 😭 seb is so sure of himself, he just speaks his insane mind. COMPLETE? so...he's all you need then? 😏 heh! he was sooooo proud of that answer too.

fernando is obsessed with winning the encounter (I just counted, it took him 6 whole seconds to respond lmao) and seb's just like ??? could you just be for real for once 😒...but also maybe be my friend 🥺??? hahaha. thank you for peddling them, I love them so much

Happy (late) Vettonso day to you again!!!(also yes you are right, it is similar LOL. I'd post it but it makes me feel like a Larry shipper.)

You put it so well!! It's just such a key difference in them. Lmao I am about to read into this so hard, I'm normal I swear. I'm sure they both had answers instantly, but have completely different approachs. Seb, as you said, is so sure of himself! He lays all of his cards out instantly because it really is not that deep to him. Complimenting Fernando this one time is not going to have any negative affect, and he does not really see it as a game. The way he says it so quick, in addition to it already being a pretty good compliment, makes it more meaningful. It feels so honest, and like you said, is a friendly gesture. Maybe Fernando will be genuine too if Seb extends the olive branch?

Meanwhile Fernando has to think about it for six seconds, and you would think that time allowance would make his compliment more meaningful but NOPE. As you said, he has to win, but instead imo he comes off looking worse. You can just read into his answer so much more. Does he genuinely think Seb is fast? Did he want to say something else? Would that something else be more negative or more positive? Also "fast" is such a loaded answer imo in this sport; like it seems like such a non-answer at first. He had to think for six seconds, and imo was trying to think of an answer that would both: not compliment Seb too hard but not look like he's not trying(because he wants to win y'know.) But then it ends up with him basically bitterly admitting Seb is genuine compeition to him. I think if he didn't feel threatened by Seb, he would've answered instantly. He tries to keep his cards to his chest, but it's like he tripped and they all fell onto the floor face-up in front of him.

Fernando is NOT winning the idgaf war. I just find it funny that both of them are pretty terrible hiding their true emotion, but the way Fernando goes about it makes it explode in his face. So in his attempt to win the interaction at any cost, he just trips and lets Seb win by being too much a tryhard LOL. But I really love it about both of them. Seb isn't afraid to compliment and as I said, Fernando's avoidance in itself is a compliment(bcs it shows he sees Seb as a legitimate contender.) Your tag about Seb being passive agressive saying "Oh." is so real haha. He does not understand Fernando's evasiveness at all bcs this is really no big deal. And meanwhile Fernando doesn't understand Seb's openess at all; doesn't he understand the game??? Why isn't he playing along???

[telephoniii]

REALLY…HIM?

☆彡 in which professor trein judges your relationship with the NRC boys

NRC boys x Reader (minus Ortho)

Word Counter: 3K

Warnings: Reader is Prefect, Trein is your father figure, established relationship, possible OOC

A/N: life’s getting pretty hectic so i’m sorry if my upload schedule slows down. i hope you enjoy :>

ace trappola

Can’t say he’s surprised, just disappointed. It makes sense; he was one of your first friends. However, that doesn’t make him any less troublesome. Despite being a first-year, Ace is one of the biggest slackers and troublemakers on campus— much to Trein’s dismay. His main worry is that Ace will poorly influence you. He’s already seeing it with the two of you getting a crazy amount of detentions and scoldings for unthinkable reasons. You’ve got it rough already being from another world, you don’t need a devil on your shoulder convincing you to get into all kinds of trouble. It’s a real shame said devil is your boyfriend. He’ll allow the relationship and all will seem swell. Little do you know that he pulled Ace aside and had a long chat.

deuce spade

A fine pick; Trein is neither severely impressed nor disappointed. He doesn’t think Deuce is too bad, but he believes you could do better. Deuce will need to somehow prove himself to Trein. On the outside, Trein looks like he absolutely hates his guts. His eyes are always staring at Deuce with this sharp look and it gets the card soldier real nervous real fast. In reality, it’s just Trein keeping a closer eye on him + his RBF. He’s relatively neutral on the first year, yet Deuce is fully convinced that his professor wants to set him on fire.

cater diamond

Trein is very annoyed with your choice. He doesn’t like Cater’s social media addiction and would much rather have you hit the books than scrolling through Magicam. Not to mention, he feels as though something about Cater’s happy-go-lucky attitude is a facade, and doesn’t trust him around you. Cater finds Trein scary, but he’s not as intimidated as Deuce. As he does with Ace, Trein takes Cater to have a talk, and—surprisingly— his opinions on the third year improve. He doesn’t fully like him, but he’ll tolerate Cater more so than beforehand. Cater also offers to help Trein make a social media account; it’s cute yet chaotic all the same watching them bond.

trey clover

Before Trein can form a solid thought on Trey, the vice housewarden is subtly trying to win his favor. Trey knows how about his father-like connection to you and immediately shapes up. He gifts Trein different pastries and learns which ones he’s partial to. What really wins the professor over is when Trey starts volunteering to help clean his classroom after class. Trein won’t even know the two of you are already together and he’ll make comments around you like, “That Clover boy is real nice…” Needless to say, Trein approves of Trey long before he finds out you both are in a relationship.

riddle rosehearts

Trein immediately scowls when he hears the news of your relationship. You’d think he’d approve due to Riddle’s intellect and dutiful behavior. Admittedly, Trein does like that about Riddle. But he despises the boy’s bursts of anger, finding them childish and unfitting for a future mage. He’s seen the housewarden go berserk on one too many students and doesn’t trust he won’t do the same to you. Trein doesn’t want you walking on eggshells around your own partner. This is another one who’ll have to prove themselves to Trein. Riddle will be upset when he hears of Trein’s low opinion of him, but gets a surge of motivation to convince him otherwise. You’ll find Riddle working even harder on his studies than before you didn’t even think that was possible in hopes of gaining Trein’s favor. He’ll eventually get it. I imagine that Riddle does some small, heroic deed for you that really shows his love, and Trein just so happens to be passing by and sees it. Once your unofficial official father in Twisted Wonderland gets along with Riddle, expect to be nagged about missing assignments and homework a WHOLE LOT.

jack howl

Similar to Trey, he immediately knows about your bond with Trein. Instead of trying to win over the professor, Jack takes a more blunt approach. He goes straight to his desk after class and tells him about your relationship, being upfront about his feelings towards you. Trein respects it. He thinks that Jack has more guts than most on campus and trusts him to protect you. He’s quite supportive of the relationship, acting as a mentor for the both of you. You can catch him watching the two of you with a tiny smile, murmuring something along the lines of, “Young love.” The two of you remind him of his own marriage with his late wife. It makes him sentimental in a way.

ruggie bucchi

A BIG 180 FROM JACK. Trein thinks this guy is sleazy. Ruggie couldn’t care less in the beginning, finding it funny to practically hang off your shoulder while Trein stared daggers into him. Then it started to seep in that it may or may not be important to get Trein’s approval for a long-term relationship with you. That’s when he gets his act together and completely starts sucking up to Trein. He’ll help out with paperwork, errands, cleaning up, etc! All for free! much to his dismay All Ruggie asks for in return is Trein’s support for your relationship. He catches Trein by surprise with how well his work ethic is. The lengths the hyena goes to for you ends up leaving the professor impressed.

leona kingscholar

Professor Trein is both surprised and disappointed. Now how did this happen? He didn't think Kingscholar was capable of being nice to anyone, let alone get into a whole relationship. Well, he bugs you to tell your boyfriend to start showing up to class. He’s not exactly happy with you dating a huge slacker like him, but Trein knows that Leona is a smart boy. Brash and not his first pick, sure, but he wouldn’t play with your heart or rope you into anything stupid. He trusts Kingscholar to protect you. But if he starts seeing you begin to skip class— which is going to happen, Leona’s going to make you do it at least once— he’ll pull YOU aside and give you an earful. Tough love, unfortunately.

floyd leech

Hell no. All the red blaring flags. Now why would you go and do that? Really? Out of EVERYONE? You bet your bottoms Trein is actively speaking out against your relationship every single time he sees you. He doesn't even want to try to talk to Floyd. Trein is convinced you are addicted to getting in trouble and lets out the biggest old man sigh. Is there any way Floyd can win the professor’s favor? Probably not. And if there was a way, would Floyd even do it? Big fat no. Floyd thinks it is hilarious that Professor Trein disapproves, upping his affections around him with that toothy grin of his. And if you guys have a class together that Trein teaches? Chaos. Expect a lot of paper balls to be thrown at you.

jade leech

“Are you okay??” Is the first thing Trein asks when you tell him you and Jade are in a relationship. Doesn't exactly trust the boy, but Jade tends to behave around him. The professor has always seen him being picture-perfect whenever he’s around which is 100% suspicious, but Trein doesn't have any solid reasons to disapprove. Jade, like his brother, finds the whole situation very amusing. He’s always figuring out new ways to appear like the ‘ideal boyfriend’ to Trein. If he ever talks to the professor he’ll slip in a comment like, “I never disappoint, trust me” and it makes Trein distrust him even more.

azul ashengrotto

Now what bet did you lose for this to have happened? At least Ashengrotto is a star student, you need to hang out around more of those in his opinion. After confirming that, “No, no bet was lost,” and “No, he’s not paying for my love,” Trein was pretty alright with it. The Monstro Lounge is a student-ran organization, it's clear from that the young boy is capable and responsible. He just keeps a very, very close eye on you two. The last thing Trein wants is for Azul to take advantage of you since— knowing him— he seems like the type to do so. Expect frequent questions of “How’s your relationship going?” and “He’s treating you right, right?” Azul is going to get asked to stay after class to talk. Trein then proceeds to threaten lecture him on how to properly treat your lover. He just wants to make sure you don't get wrapped up in one of those contracts he’s heard about. Azul has quite the track record.

kalim al asim

Automatically assumes you’re dating him for the money and begins to ramble about how you should marry for love. Tells you about his late wife and how much he loved her— it is so sweet I'm actually crying. That's the kind of love he wants you to have. You’ve got to reassure him that, “Yes, my certified father figure, I do love him very much and I’m not just in it for the money.” After that talk, he finds the relationship sweet but kind of concerning. Kalim is a nice boy but severely naive and, frankly, incompetent. Trein starts to go a little harder on Kalim in class, not that he was going easy anyway. He scrutinizes the essays he turns in and chastises him for missing an assignment. As he watches you kiss Kalim on the cheek after getting an A, Trein can only sigh and think, “He’s lucky he’s rich.”

jamil viper

Trein’s pretty okay with him. He’s a level-headed guy with passable grades and the title of a vice housewarden. However, the professor did hear about his Overblot and does think that there's more beneath the surface. He doesn't judge him for his Overblot, no. But Trein does keep a closer eye on him to make sure he isn't scheming anything involving you. The professor also tries to push him to do better academically. He’s heard from you about how smart Jamil truly is and can see his potential, so he tries to get him to stop holding back. Jamil is a little appreciative of it and respects Trein as your father figure, but still isn't a fan of sticking out. Nor does he plan on giving into Trein’s attempts.

epel felmier

Is fine with the relationship at first. He was polite, soft-spoken, and a part of Pomfiore. Most students belonging to that dorm are pompous, but respectful nonetheless. Then Epel’s true nature comes out and Trein is constantly reprimanding him for horseplay. It's kinda funny how surprised Trein is by Epel’s country toughness. The professor definitely had his suspicions— nobody at NRC is innocent, he’s learned every student here has some sort of dark side— but he definitely wouldn't have expected this. A part of Trein actually prefers him like this. You are dating someone with a backbone who will defend you. He encourages Epel to be himself around him, promising a judgment-free area. They get along pretty well surprisingly, with Trein being a sort of mentor to him. Overall, very sweet and Trein approves.

rook hunt

In the most blunt way possible, Trein tells you, “Your boyfriend weirds me out.” He thinks Rook is an oddball for sure. No way around it. Is half convinced Rook is stalking him. Because he is. When you explained to your boyfriend about the bond you had with Professor Trein, he got way too intrigued and ended up ‘watching’ Trein like he does to Leona. It's not until the professor makes a passing comment about being paranoid that he’s being watched that you realized, “Oh shit my boyfriends stalking you.” You don't say that to him— you don't want Rook getting in trouble. So you settle on having a really long talk with Rook about it who reassures you he’d never disturb your father figure or the absolutely beautiful bond between the two of you. He still worries you sometimes when he goes missing and randomly reappears by walking out of Trein’s classroom.

vil schoenheit

Trein worries that Vil won’t make the time for you. He’s aware that Schoenheit is a busy boy as he’s missed his class plentiful in the past. He’ll make Vil stay after class for a little to talk to him about it, giving him a fatherly warning about being ready to fully commit to a relationship and the time it takes to manage one. Vil is, admittedly, insulted that Trein doubts his ability to wholeheartedly love you but takes it in stride. He sees this as a sign to up his game in the romance department and properly does so, dedicating more time to pampering you. The professor expresses his concerns to his coworker, Crewel, who talks his ear off about how much of a “good pup” Vil is and that he won't disappoint. Trein can’t help but agree when he spots you walking into class looking more freshened with slight makeup on and a new hair-do that Vil definitely did for you.

idia shroud

Once you break the news to Trein, he immediately asks to meet with Idia one-on-one. The blue-haired student rarely shows up to class! And that iPad isn't going to cut it forever! He needs to be able to size him up in person. Idia, naturally, is scared to death. At first, he immediately declines, insisting that they don't really need to meet up, the whole idea is stupid, and it’ll be fine if he stays right there in his room. Then you sit down with him and tell him how important Trein is to you and… sigh You landed a natural 20 on the dice of persuasion. Idia can’t believe he's doing this. You’re beside him the whole time as he stutters in front of Trein. Is Trein impressed? No, not at all. Yet your confidence in the Shroud and constant praise is reassuring. The professor’s going to make you force Idia into showing up in person in class. His attendance rivals Leona's.

sebek zigvolt

Doesn't really care for Sebek despite the first year's desperate attempts at trying to impress him. Sebek lost him after he started talking about Malleus when Trein asked about you. Ever since then, it’s just been him trying to win him back to no prevail. Kinda sad to watch. He’ll be the biggest gentleman ever: rushing to doors to open them for Trein, scrubbing his whole classroom for him from top to bottom, and yelling at other students to be quiet— though he was pretty much doing that before you two even got together. But every time Sebek gets close to winning the professor’s favor, he ends up going on a tangent about how amazing his liege is, and we're back at square one. You’ve got to rub him on the back and kiss him on the cheek while telling him, “Trein will come around one day!” Even if that day never comes.

silver

Not a fan. He’s witnessed Silver fall asleep in his class one too many times and thinks it's disrespectful. Once you tell Silver, he’s upset as it's not exactly something he can change, but will put in extra effort not only in Trein’s class but in all his classes. He studies with you beside him so you can prevent him from falling asleep when you see him get all drowsy-eyed. Trein immediately takes note of Silver’s hard work and grit as the boy passes his class with flying colors while asking if there’s anything he could do to help him after hours. It's only when he hears from his fellow teachers that Silver has been doing exceptionally well is he actually impressed. Afterwards, Trein will start being more understanding of Silver’s constant sleeping. He won't be any less strict, but he won’t lay into him for it as hard as before since learning it's out of Silver’s control. Trein thinks rather positively of your relationship, comparing it to the ones in the fairytales.

lilia vanrouge

A bit disturbed, to say the least. Lilia is older than him after all. Trein tried to keep a close eye on the two of you, but Lilia always caught him and pursued a staring match. Trein was always the first to look away. Lilia finds it entertaining. He tries to play tiny tricks on the professor, but you stop him at the very last minute. You sit down and try to explain that you deeply care about Trein and, by extension, what Trein thinks of him. Lilia proceeded to suggest that he brings Trein some cookies to win him over to which you immediately say no. Honestly, I don’t see Trein really ever warming up to Lilia. He just pretends the old bat doesn't exist and isn't your boyfriend. Lilia finds that incredibly funny while you're dying inside.

malleus draconia

The fact you were able to get close to the Draconia is an impressive feat to Trein. However, future ruler of Briar Valley or not, he intends to make sure that Malleus treats you right. Right when you tell Malleus that Trein is basically your father, the fae goes straight to the professor, confesses to him about your relationship, and swears to take good care of you with this ominous tone. Trein isn’t very fond of Malleus at first, struggling to decipher whether or not that introduction was genuine. It isn't until you go to him after class, gushing about the late-night walk you went on with Malleus yesterday and shoving cute little polaroid photos in his face does Trein begin to trust the fae. He makes sure to scold you for not being asleep at that time, yes, but he stares at one of the photographs for way too long, imagining you and Malleus as him and his late wife for a moment. A small smile appears on his face. However, he can’t help but think that the two of you are down a similar path; the happiest marriage ever, kids, and one lover outliving the other. A tragedy, but he’ll let you enjoy it while it lasts just like he did. As long as you’re happy.

[speed-world]

Hello!! If it's not too much to ask, can you write a cookie run kingdom au where y/n is a traveler? I just think that's the most logical way to somehow get them involved into stories and meet different cookies altogether. Maybe a few scenarios in which involve their encounters with the ancients before the main plot of crk?

A cookie stood with his sheep, observing the lands before him in silence as the winds howled and blew beside him. He was making his last few preparations before his journey, but as he turned around, he saw an unfamiliar face that appeared to be in awe of the lands much like he was…

“Oh, pardon me, but I’ve never seen a cookie like you before. You look so incredibly well and unbothered, may I ask if you have a secret to keeping your dough so healthy?”

“Oh, me? Hehe, I don’t think I have any ‘secret’ to my healthy or anything like that. I’m simply a traveler wandering Earthbread.”

“Really? So am I! I’ll be taking a pilgrimage to the Sugar-Free Road, and complete its 12 trials. What about you, where are you headed?”

“Wherever the earth and winds take me, I suppose. I don’t have a destination in mind, per se, but I’m so interested in exploring the marvelous depths across every corner of Earthbread! But, if you don’t mind me asking, what makes you want to venture to the Sugar-Free Road alone? Surely those trials can’t be the only reason.”

“You sound like you’ve been there before, is there something I should be aware of before I go?”

“Yeah, maybe don’t go by yourself. It’s a treacherous path that’ll leave you wishing you never went. I myself turned back when I was there because of how worn out I was. I would want to go back sometime, especially since I feel more accustomed to traveling to do so, but doing so alone is not something I’m doing again.”

“I see…well to answer your question, I strive to find the truth as to why cookies - those crumbling, incomplete, and not-so-sweet - all must suffer so. I wish for all beings of dough to be happy, and that is I will accept those trials. Hopefully I’ll find the answers I’m looking for at the end of the path.”

“That’s…that’s actually really nice! I respect that a lot, and I kinda feel the same way; wanting everyone to not suffer. But you won’t do well by yourself, would you mind if I tag along?”

“Really? Are you sure my goals won’t get in the way of yours?”

“Nah, of course not! You get to complete the trials and, hopefully, find your answers, while I get to see everything of the Sugar-Free Road and document it! Plus, I get to make a new friend too!”

“New friend..? Ahaha, I’m honored to call you friend too! My name is Pure Vanilla Cookie, and you are?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure to meet ya Pure Vanilla Cookie!”

“Likewise, Y/N Cookie. I’m glad we’ll take this journey together!”

————————————————————————

The screeching roar of a dragon fills the air as it gradually got more distant. The dragon’s pursuer was aggravated, but still determined…

“Huff…huff…darn that dragon getting away, again!! I think I’m starting to loose count, is this the 80th time? No, it can’t have been that much…..argghh—! No matter, I’ll keep hunting it down and—!”

The bushes ahead of Hollyberry Cookie rustle as an astonished cookie stepped out, and looked to the sky where the dragon flew off. They were completely in awe and wanted to get a better look at the majestic creature.

“Woah!! Was that a dragon just now? I’ve seen glimpses of them on my travels, but that one was so close!! This could be a chance to really meet a dragon, maybe even feel its scales!! Hahaha, I gotta go now and—“

“Hey, hold it right there!”

“Huh? Oh, hey there! Are you after the dragon too?”

“That’s one way to put it; I’m hunting that dragon. I need to defeat it for the trouble its caused the Hollyberry Kingdom!”

“Oh my, I had no idea. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s quite alright, that dragon won’t escape me so easily! But, what brings you out here? And why do you want to see that dragon?”

“Ah, well I’m a traveler, you see? I want to explore every neat corner of Earthbread and all the specialties in between!”

“Really now? Interesting, it’s been awhile since I’ve met such an adventurous cookie like myself! I’m Hollyberry Cookie, pleased to meet you friend!”

“Y/N Cookie, the pleasure is all mine Hollyberry Cookie!”

“Well Y/N Cookie, what do you say we go hunting this dragon together? It’s always more fun to travel with a partner, and I’ll promise you to see every bit of the dragon up close!”

“For real?! Awesome!! Ohohoho, this is gonna be fun, I can’t wait to go!”

“Why don’t you tell me about your travels on the way? I’ll, of course, share you many of my own! I’ll even treat you to the finest berry juice my kingdom has to offer when it’s over!”

“Why thank you! I’ve never had berry juice from the Hollyberry Kingdom before, I can’t wait!!”

“It will be the finest you’ve ever had, you wouldn’t want any other! This is already becoming a fine adventure, hahaha!!”

————————————————————————

Black lightning and dark clouds...What's next, a blizzard that freezes your very breath? The scale of the anomalies is growing. The Cookies in the Frozen Snowfield are perishing one by one. While it seems logical for any cookie to avoid venturing out to such an extreme treacherous environment, two cookies were individually hiking up anyways. Although for their own reasons, their ambitions may align with one another’s….

“Hmm? Oh hey there, I wasn’t expecting any company here!”

“Neither was I…are you a cookie from one of villages affected by the blizzards?”

“Me? Oh no, I’m just a traveler passing by to witness something spectacular!! Here, listen closely—“

“Grrrrrr…..”

“Hhrrrrrraaaaaahh…..”

“The growls of not one, but two dragons-in one place!! I wonder what it is here that could’ve brought them here; ooohh I’ve got to see them up close!”

“You’re here for…sightseeing dragons? How strange.”

“You sound disappointed, is everything alright bud?”

“No. I am here to know more of the weather anomalies occurring through this continent. This harsh weather has caused cookies to suffer and crumble, and I refuse to let it endure another minute.”

“Oh my, I had no idea that was happening. I’m so sorry…”

“Pick your head up, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Ah, r-right. *ahem*…let me help you.”

“What? No, I’m afraid I can’t. These cookies have suffered for too long, and I can’t risk another getting in the way and—“

“I promise I won’t get in your way. I’ll help aid those cookies with you; I have plenty of supplies to offer some kind of help, be it food or water or anything in between.”

“Hmm…very well then. I believe our interests might be more in common than I realize. Let’s not waste any more time and be on our way.”

“Of course! I’m Y/N Cookie, by the way, pleasure to meet you sir.”

“Dark Cacao Cookie, don’t mention it. Let us do our absolute best for the cookies!”

————————————————————————

Under the intense, near-intolerable heat of the desert sun, two cookies traverse the sands bearing wide smiles of determination. Both hold their own greedy ambitions, yet aren’t driven apart by each other’s desires.

“Hah, you know, I’m still amazed as to why you’re traveling with me to the old ruins. I was wandering the desert to find this marvelous treasure, but you just want to look at them, document them, and that’s it! Why go through such risks if all you want to do is go sight seeing?”

“Hehe, well I guess you could say that’s the treasure I’m hunting for. To see all the wonders of Earthbread, its beauties in its dangers, the uniqueness of every continent, I want to capture all of it and learn everything about it! Plus, it’s super fun to meet all kinds of desserts along the way, especially one as dynamic as you!”

“So interesting, you almost make me want to share the treasure I find with you; almost, of course.”

“I don’t blame you, heh. You wandered all this way for it, it’s only fair that it all belongs to you.”

“Right? I would’ve heard if someone on Earthbread had laid their hands on it first. But then again…I want to show my gratitude for your help. This journey would’ve been boring and perhaps fruitless if not for you; what is your name?”

“Y/N Cookie, a pleasure!”

“Y/N Cookie, I am Golden Cheese Cookie. I shall never forget all you’ve done for me! Your greed for the world is something to admire for eons; nearly as great as my greed for my treasure. You and I together shall be legendary!”

————————————————————————

Somewhere, in a secluded area relatively distant from the nearest cookie civilization, a lone cookie was weeping as she was suffering from a nightmare. A passerby cookie heard her cries, and wanted to know what troubled her so…

“E-Excuse me, hello? Are you okay ma’am?”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I… Oh…it was that same dream again. I’m sorry, I didn’t know another cookie was here…”

“No no, it’s alright, you didn’t bother me. I was just traveling by, venturing out to find some incredible things about Earthbread!”

“You were…traveling? Just freely and…eagerly going about across Earthbread alone? …..why?”

“Ehehe, I suppose why not? There’s so many incredible marvels about this world that I wanna see and experience for myself! There’s just so many things and secrets that I want to know about, how could I not be eager to see it all, ahaha!”

“….s-so carefree and curious…they’re just—“

“Hmm, you say something?”

“N-no, I was just muttering to myself…”

“….Hey, you hungry?”

“What? How’d you…—“

“You have crumbs falling from your hands, how long have you been without something to eat?”

“I…I do not know. I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve eaten something. Maybe I’m getting too lost in my thoughts…”

You pulled out a lot of food from your bags and laid it out in front of the cookie.

“T-that’s so much food! Shouldn’t you keep some for yourself if you’re traveling?”

“I got plenty more, don’t you worry. But if you were here resting from traveling, then it looks like you weren’t fully prepared. Is there any reason why you’re traveling out here?”

“Yes…I want to know the truth.”

“….the truth about, what?”

“Why were we, the cookies, created? Why were we brought into this world? Why were we created so small and fragile? If only all cookies were born strong, unbreakable. If only then…I…”

“Shhh, calm down, alright? Take a break for now, eat up. You can tell me more when we’re back out on the road.”

“I-we?! What do you mean, ‘we?’ I’d get in your way with whatever it is you’re after.”

“I’m not after anything in particular, remember? I wanna traverse and see all of Earthbread, and from the sounds of what answers you’re after, it seems like we may be going down similar paths.”

“….Perhaps you’re right. Okay then, I’ll go with you, to find the answers I’m seeking. …Who are you, exactly…?”

“I’m Y/N Cookie!”

“I’m White Lily Cookie. I’m…thankful for you, Y/N Cookie. I never thought I’d have anyone to help me with this, I figured I’d just burden someone else with my struggles…”

“Don’t mention it, I’m perfectly fine with it! No one should really be alone for a long journey; especially for the one you want to take. I’m more than happy to go with you, White Lily Cookie.”

“Thank you, Y/N Cookie…I will never forget your kindness.”

[holy-puckslibrary]

─ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜.

pairing(s) — fwb!MATTHEW TKACHUK x reader wc — 3.2k synopsis — best not-boyfriend boyfriend ever! (read the request here) note — bestie, your brain? marvelous! this was an absolute joy to write, and i hope this captures your vision!!! thank you for the request <3

main masterlist

content warnings under the cut.

cw — hints of a debut-inspired ensemble; complicated, grossly intimate situationship + emotional constipation; angst (not really) to fluffy fluffy; tswizzle references; suggestive section: "heavy petting" but nothing explicit / fade to black; brief alcohol mention + consumption; brief mention of food (no specifics); and ~emotions~ 

I. it’s getting so much clearer… 

Matthew regrets making you a key. 

Majorly.

If he’d known the can of worms he was opening when he unceremoniously dropped them in your lap one night, he would’ve listened to his brother; you don’t give girlfriend privileges to women who aren’t your girlfriend. It only leads to hurt feelings, broken console controllers, and unnecessary trouble. 

However, it’s highly unlikely this is the “trouble” to which Brady was referring. 

Rooted in the entryway, he surveys the damage. 

Beads of all shapes, sizes, and colors sit in a sea of jars. Some have spilled out under the coffee table and couch, others have made it all the way into the kitchen. Knotted balls of elastic are sprinkled throughout the chaos, as are multiple pairs of scissors, skeins of embroidery floss, and shards of construction paper. There are markers everywhere, but for some unknown reason, the crayons and sticker sheets are in nice, neat piles. A white feather boa is draped over the entertainment center and there’s a pink one curled by his feet. And, in the eye of the storm, is an anxious lump frantically stringing together DIY jewelry and muttering along to the megamix blaring through the room; he doubts you even heard him come home. 

“Sweetheart, is there a reason it looks like a craft store threw up everywhere?” Matthew shouts as he gingerly braves the hurricane. 

Something crunches under his shoe, and from the sound alone, he knows it would’ve been worse than stepping on a Lego if his feet were bare. 

He also knows that if the music were even a decibel lower, you would be pissed beyond belief. How dare he move freely through his own home without first checking for rogue pieces of plastic? His ears are ringing, but he’s grateful for it. From many years of mistakes and misadventures, he's learned you won’t get on top if you’re mad, regardless of how much groveling he does. And he's got one foot in the doghouse after last weekend as it is. 

“T-minus two days ’til Taylor, Matthew,” you grumble from the floor. “What do you think?” 

You’ve been at this for weeks. It gets worse the closer the concert gets. The mess and your mood. 

Matthew isn’t stupid, and he knows you better than he lets on. You panic under the weight of your own (often unrealistic) expectations. You need everything to be perfect, or the entire world crumbles. This, Night One of the Florida dates of the Eras Tour, is, understandably, no exception. If anything, the pressure’s dialed up to eleven. 

In stressing over every little detail, you’ve made yourself miserable. Watching you unravel makes his chest feel strange. 

You won’t ask for help. You don’t want it, either.

But, he can’t let you flounder. For his own sanity, he can’t do it. And he does care about you. Maybe not in the way everyone assumes or hopes, but he does. He’d do almost anything to lighten your load. 

Yet, Matthew treads lightly. If he’s too forthcoming, you could get the wrong idea. He doesn’t want to spook you, and he can’t have any wires getting crossed. What’s so good about your situation is how markedly uncomplicated it’s been. He refuses to be the one who fucks it up for everyone. 

So, he does what he can, and he does it without making a big deal about it. 

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he sinks down onto the floor beside you. You’re perched on one of the obnoxious throw pillows you insisted he order to “spruce up” the space and make it look less “bachelor pad-y." As if that’s not exactly what it is. He takes this as rare permission to do the same, placing one under his hips and cuddling another to his chest as he stretches out on his stomach, phone in hand. 

Well, as stretched as a person can be in the middle of an obstacle course. 

Between the second play of “cowboy like me” and the third of “Tim McGraw,” his various feeds dry up, and he’s spammed his contacts into oblivion. You're still chugging along, like a Sad Girl automaton locked in an endless glittery assembly line. 

At one point, you murmur, “Give me your wrist." 

And he does. 

Matthew’s taken aback when you loop elastic around it to get a measurement.

He’s confused, but not for the reason one might assume. He’s painfully familiar with the friendship bracelet phenomenon and the giddy exchanges, having been force-fed hours' worth of tour content over the past year, but he never thought you’d rope him into it.

The buzz under his skin is oddly auspicious, watching you clip the appropriate length before reaching for the pile laid out near his head. 

It’s not long before you make the same request again. However, this time, you slide on a custom creation. You fiddle with it for a moment, then turn back to your station to begin the next one on the list. 

“And in which era does she cosplay as a camp counselor?” Matthew teases as he thumbs the letter beads.

They spell out a moniker he’d honestly find offensive if you hadn’t looped the song one too many times. He wonders if you’ve made yourself the matching one. 

You emit a sound that haunts his nightmares and side-eye him in a way that would’ve made a lesser man disintegrate. 

“If you don’t want it, give it back so I can give it to someone who will appreciate my time and effort,” you bite with your hand outstretched, palm up and open expectantly. 

Matthew shoves it away, suddenly defensive. “I never said that.” 

The sun slips behind the fence an hour later, and the sky bathes the house in purple-pink hues. As he gathers ingredients in the kitchen, Matthew watches the slow-moving clouds absentmindedly. He hasn't felt this content in a while.

Arms full, he wades through the arts and crafts on the way to the backyard. 

You’re still in the den, still hunched over in the same place he found you in. He shakes his head when he passes you, knowing he’s got an hour (at least) moonlighting as a masseuse in his future. 

You don’t startle or acknowledge him until the grill set you bought for his birthday clatters to the floor. 

“Why’re there two cowboy hats getting glitter all over my patio?” he asks, despite knowing the answer. And hating it. Vehemently. 

You fix him with an unamused glare. Your brow quirks, and your hands still. Then, you blink at him very slowly. Like he’s an idiot. Like he just asked a stupid question—because he did. 

Matthew’s head wags so intensely that his neck cracks.

“Oh, hell no.” 

II. it’s coming undone…

Matthew scowls at his reflection. 

“—looks so fucking stupid.” 

He can’t tell if he looks worse with or without the fur-trimmed, shimmery cowboy hat. And, honestly, it's a little distressing. After temporarily ditching it, he tugs at his curls. Then, the hem of the jersey. 

Resigned, he reaches across the bed for the homemade accessory. Wearing it will make you smile—and it gives his dignity something to hide behind. 

Twitter’s going to have a fucking field day. 

Your panicked voice spills out from the hotel bathroom, “Really?” 

“Of course, it fucking do—” 

His tirade of vanity grinds to a screeching halt at the sight of you, backlit and wilting. 

“That’s not—ah, fuck.” Matthew digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. “What I meant was—me, it looks stupid on me. Not you. On you, it looks… It looks…” 

“It looks, what?” 

It looks like he’s glad none of your friends were available because he won’t have to pretend you’re less than you are.

No lectures, no goading, no scrutiny. Just you. 

“Right.” That’s the word he settles for. “It looks right.” 

The emphasis chips away at what little believability the underwhelming affirmation had. That much is evident from the insecurity bleeding through your makeup. 

“Right,” you parrot. Skeptically, you drag out the vowel long enough that it disappears into the bathroom with you. 

Before the door clicks shut, Matthew’s already berating himself for whatever just happened. For acting like a complete doofus with a foot shoved down his throat. 

His mind is as quick as his tongue is sharp. He’s got confidence for days and a cocky demeanor primed and on-call, one that most women find endearing. Yourself included. He’s never had an issue dishing out pretty words or flirting before, especially not with you. 

With you, banter came easy. Sweet or salacious, it didn’t matter. The bob and weave, from platonic chatter to something charged and suggestive, is effortless. And it’s been that way for as long as he can remember. It's innate. He should be able to uphold his reputation in his sleep. 

What’s gotten into him? 

(You’d say the power of Taylor Swift, or some shit. Which is why he doesn’t open the floor for discussion. Among other reasons.) 

Matthew makes the executive decision to put things right. To redeem himself, to feel more like himself. 

His palms are hot and tingling as he sets off to do what he does best. Something fool-proof. Something that’ll erase the past ten minutes from the collective consciousness. Something to scratch an itch...

He won't make it through three and a half hours without catching a public indecency charge. 

Not with you looking like that.  

“I was thinking,” Matthew trails off as he comes up behind you in the en suite bathroom. His hands land on the counter, one on either side of you. “We should fool around a little bit before we leave.” 

With his chest flush to your back and his chin propped on your shoulder, he blatantly checks you out.

You, albeit begrudgingly, find it flattering. On principle, you roll your eyes. 

You snort. “Funny." 

Sarcasm pinches his face as he unintelligibly mocks you. 

Whatever witty retort he had died on his tongue when you lean forward to put some eyeliner in your waterline, inadvertently pushing the curve of your backside right into his growing bulge. 

Matthew turns you to face him without warning. 

The kohl pencil goes flying, dotting the pristine space as it tumbles to the floor. Its final resting place is unknown; you’ll follow the smudge-crumbs later. 

Later, when he doesn’t have you pressed tight between the harsh edge of the counter and his chest. 

Later, when the dull ache in your arched back dissipates. 

Later, when his attraction isn’t so painfully tangible. 

Later, when he isn’t looking at you the way he is now.  

You’re sinking in a shade of blue you don’t recognize. It’s stormy, vast and disquieting. Like any collision, you’re unable to tear your eyes away even though you know you should. It betrays an aura of foreboding, yet somehow, Matthew’s charged gaze carries a soothing effect. It's hypnotic in an stomach-twisting way. 

“I’m not laughing, sweetheart.” He breathes the words through the slight part in your lips, his voice rich and thick like honey. 

“W-We need to be quick—” 

Matthew buries his face in the sweet-smelling crook of your neck. Intent on shutting you up, he succeeds with infuriating ease once he’s latched onto your throat. He nips and sucks whenever you protest, and soon, you don’t even bother trying anymore.

Why lie and deny when what you want feels this fucking good? 

When your nails dig impatient little half-moons into his forearms, Matthew bares his teeth with a triumphant hiss.  

He grins against your skin, humming atop your erratic pulse. 

“Better hurry up and spread ‘em, then.” 

Matthew’s between your dangling boots as soon as you’ve hoisted yourself onto the counter. Kneading the soft skin of your thighs, inching up and in with eager hands, he doesn’t slow or stop until the white Self-Titled sundress is bunched up in the hinge of your hips.

“That’s my girl.” 

III. it’s delicate…

“All Tequila, No Crime” isn’t as diabolical of a cocktail as it sounds. 

Spending $100+ to taste test it and three other signature mixed drinks is. 

A robbery, if you ask him. 

What's downright criminal, though, is your inability to finish a single one. A “Last Great American G&T” with a few sips missing, a half-finished “Midnight Mule,” and a watered-down “Blue Debut” sit abandoned amongst an assortment of sweet treats and small bites. 

As he waits for what he ordered, Matthew picks at the vibrant fruit salad. He’s about to pluck a honeydew star from the pile stacked high in a bowl fashioned from a watermelon rind when the back of his neck prickles. 

“Knock it off.”

You blink, bemused. 

Matthew, having watched your reaction in a reflection, rolls his eyes. 

Back still to you, he clarifies. “You promised you wouldn’t make this a whole thing.”  

“I'm not.” 

“You've never been a good liar.” 

“Isn't that a good thing?” you deflect. 

You turn your attention back to the lively stadium, watching as it fills with laughter and anticipation. You're hoping he'll take the hint and drop it, that he won't pull the night apart at the seams. 

He abandons the sprawling buffet table in favor of the plush recliner beside yours. Once settled, Matthew slides a plate of your favorites across the small table between you. 

“Don't change the subject.” 

The cement under your boots makes for a captive audience as you sail into dicey weather. “I know—I know what I said, and I'm really trying my best, but can you blame me? I mean, c’mon, Matty. Look where we are.”

“A Taylor Swift concert?” Matthew does what he does best.

You know his tells and his tricks. You indulge neither. 

“My first Taylor Swift concert. Ever. I came out of The Queue From Hell empty-handed and shit out of luck, yet here we are. The Eras Tour. And not way up the nosebleeds or side-stage with an obstructed view. A suite. A private, fifteen-person suite—for just us. You did that.” 

Matthew shifts uncomfortably. He scratches the shadow clinging to his jaw. He looks everywhere, at everything. Everything except you. 

“So?” 

The probe is firm yet reluctant but not inherently dismissive. 

“So,” you heave a labored sigh of unease. “—so, how could I not? This ‘whole thing’ is the kindest, most thoughtful gesture anyone’s ever done for me. It means the absolute world, and I know you know that.” 

A thick, paralyzing quiet descends on the balcony. 

He does know that, which is what makes it so terrible. He knows, he knows, he knows. Matthew knows; he wishes he didn’t. For years, he successfully kept it at bay because… because you can’t just un-know something like that. Even entertaining the thought felt too big a risk. It jeopardizes the delicate peace only willful ignorance can safeguard. 

“Alright, alright. Jesus, sweetheart. Can't have you emptying the tank before the show even starts,” Matthew teases as he thumbs the tears away. “How d’ya know I didn’t pull some strings just to put an end to your perpetual pity party?” 

He’s trying to lighten the mood. Hoping to inch away from the emotionally dense zone of uncharted territory, hoping you’ll have mercy—or take pity—on him and his plight of avoidance. 

And you do.  

Ever the benevolent people-pleaser. 

You take your foot off the gas. You retreat to the status quo. You yield, but for a good cause.

Good and right aren’t synonymous. And we can’t will them to be. So, instead, we choose our battles and bide our time. 

There’s no reason to rain on tonight’s parade. 

“Thank you,” you acquiesce.  

Mathew smiles. 

This ceasefire, this tacit truce, is as fragile as rice paper. It feels as though, if someone pushed too hard from either side, they'd go right through it unchallenged. But, for now, it's enough. 

He takes your hand and squeezes. “And for the hundredth time, you’re welcome.” 

IV. it’s been a long time coming…

He gets it now. 

Truthfully, he understood after the very first bridge of the night. There’s just something about the intimacy of the spectacle; it's… indescribable. With thousands from all walks of life gathered in a single stadium to celebrate nearly two decades of singing, crying, and growing up together, it wasn't difficult to get swept up in the magic. 

For someone who’d consider themselves fan-adjacent at best, he wasn’t expecting to feel much of anything, let alone goosebumps, misty-eyed. 

He can’t even imagine how extraordinarily special it must’ve been for you, a lifelong fan, to partake in the world’s most cinematic sing-along. To luck out with your opener of choice, to be surprised with your favorite song during the acoustic set—you could probably die happy. Matthew can still feel your tear-streaked cheek against his shoulder and your shakey hand clasped in his. And he’ll remember the warmth of your joy for the rest of his life. 

He, however, doesn't have to imagine how much the experience took out of you. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t pass out on me yet, sweetheart.” 

You’re one minute into a five-minute Uber ride, and he’s already had to nudge you twice. 

Curled against the cool window like a cat, you groggily protest, “I’m not. My mind is alive, promise.”  

He snorts. “Then why’re your eyes shut?” 

“They aren’t!” 

They absolutely are. 

Matthew tugs you across his lap with a smile pulling at his cheeks. 

“Sounds like you need to get yours checked, Matthew Brendan,” you quip into his chest before drowning the backseat in delirious giggles. 

In the golden glow of the streetlamps, his smirk rests against your temple. 

Here is the moment. There have been hundreds like it in the years since you met. Lighthearted banter and late night laughter spill over into the early morning hours, all of it utter nonsense he wouldn’t trade for anything. It should be perfectly ordinary, but it's music to his ears. 

The cowboy boots he swore he wouldn’t carry home rest against his similarly sore calves. The ziplock bag, once bursting at the seams with bracelets, is empty and folded in his back pocket, and his arm is full from elbow to wrist. The glitter he contested clings to him like a second skin, there to stay. 

And he doesn’t hate it. 

💌 if you liked it, pls lmk! 💌

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[ikkyfics]

Snowball Fight

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: “You’re impossible,” you whispered, unable to hide the fondness in your tone. “And you’re stuck with me,” James replied, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and adoration that made your chest feel impossibly light.

Warnings: just fluffy - a snow fight with the Marauders, James finding any excuse for a kiss, Peter being a traitor (with good reasons, of course), Sirius and Remus because they're adorable

N/A: yeaaaaaaah did you think there wouldn't be a christmas fic? well, I thought so too - but here we are. I've never seen snow, so it's a little ironic lmao

Masterlist

It was a perfect Christmas morning at Hogwarts. Freshly fallen snow blanketed the castle and grounds like a white mantle, reflecting the pale sunlight and transforming everything into an even more enchanting magical world. James Potter, however, seemed to have boundless energy—perhaps more than usual, given the enthusiasm he showed while holding your hand and pulling you toward the castle’s main doors.

“James, it’s freezing out there!” you protested, laughing as you tried to keep your balance on the slippery floor.

“Exactly! It’s a golden opportunity, my dear. Snow and Christmas go together like... well, like you and me.” He winked dramatically, though the playful expression couldn’t quite hide the faint blush on his cheeks—and it wasn’t just because of the cold.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that threatened to escape. “And what do you have in mind, then? A mischievous Marauder plan or something truly innocent for the first time ever?”

“I’d say you’ll just have to trust my charm,” he said with a grin so daring it was almost impossible not to go along with him.

A few minutes later, the two of you were outside, the cold morning air wrapping around you both. The world seemed incredibly quiet, save for the muffled sound of your boots crunching through the snow.

“So,” James began, his voice loaded with a false casualness as he bent down to scoop up a handful of snow. “Do you think you can get away from me so easily?”

You raised an eyebrow, noticing the mischievous glint in his eyes. “What—”

Before you could finish your sentence, a snowball hit your arm.

“Potter!” you shouted, already leaning down to retaliate, and within seconds, the two of you were laughing and running like children. James moved quickly, almost always dodging your attempts to hit him, but you weren’t exactly easy to catch, either.

That was when unexpected reinforcements arrived. Sirius appeared out of nowhere, dressed in a thick overcoat and sporting a grin that promised trouble. “Need some help, Prongs?”

“Knew you couldn’t resist!” James shouted back, already moving to Sirius’s side as you stared at both of them with a mix of desperation and determination.

“This is unfair! Two against one?” you exclaimed, though you were smiling.

“Two against one?” A calm voice chimed in behind you. Remus. “Doesn’t sound very fair to me.” He smiled slightly, tilting his head in your direction. “Perhaps I’ll root for you.”

“Don’t just root, help!” you said, laughing as Remus discreetly launched a snowball that hit Sirius squarely in the back of the neck.

At that moment, Peter came running in from the side, carrying what looked like the beginnings of a stockpile of snowballs in his arms. “What’s going on here? Need a referee?”

“More like a traitor in the making,” Sirius grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Peter.

“Traitor? I prefer opportunist,” Peter replied with a mischievous grin, tossing a snowball at Remus. “For now, I’m on their side!” He gestured to James and Sirius, but before they could celebrate, Peter had already switched sides. “Or maybe hers. Watching you covered in snow, Sirius, is pretty entertaining.”

The battle raged on with laughter and teasing—James and Sirius forming a chaotic duo while you, Remus, and eventually Peter balanced the scales with clever strategies (and a few playful betrayals). At one point, an explosion of snow flew in all directions, leaving everyone breathless and laughing uncontrollably.

It was then that James, with an unexpectedly clever move, managed to gently “knock” you into the snow. Laughing triumphantly, he leaned over you, his knees sinking slightly into the fluffy blanket of white. The wide grin on his face softened almost instantly as his vibrant blue eyes locked onto yours. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fall silent—not because of the snow’s muffling embrace, but because of the intensity between you.

The messy black hair that always seemed to defy gravity fell into his forehead, framing his flushed cheeks. His glasses had slipped down slightly, fogged up at the edges, making him squint just a bit. That small imperfection made your heart skip in ways that felt both ridiculous and undeniable.

“Caught you,” he said softly, the teasing edge in his voice giving way to something warmer. His breath came out in soft, visible puffs, brushing against your skin in the cold air.

You didn’t respond immediately, your gaze flitting over his features. The unruly hair, the slight tilt of his lips as if he were about to say something funny, the way his eyes seemed impossibly bright against the pale winter landscape—it was all so James.

“Well done, Potter,” you finally managed, a playful lilt in your tone. “You’ve bested me. What are you going to do now? Gloat?”

James chuckled, his weight shifting slightly as he propped himself up with one arm. “Tempting, but I think I’ve earned something better.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was a shyness underneath that made your heart flutter.

“Oh?” you replied, lifting an eyebrow even as your cheeks grew warm. “And what exactly do you think you’ve earned?”

He hesitated, his confidence faltering just enough for you to notice. That hesitation, paired with the way his fingers absently brushed the snow near your shoulder, was unbearably endearing.

You smirked, closing the small gap between you as your voice dropped to a whisper. “James,” you said his name with just enough tenderness to make him stop fidgeting and focus entirely on you. “You’re staring.”

“Can you blame me?” he shot back, his grin returning, though his voice was quieter now. “It’s not every day I get to see you like this. All…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely before rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re just… you know, perfect.”

The words hung in the air between you, his earnestness making your chest tighten.

“You’re terrible at this,” you teased, though your voice cracked slightly from the rush of emotions threatening to bubble over.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his own cheeks reddening even more. “But I’m not giving up.”

You laughed softly, the sound breaking the tension for a moment, though neither of you moved away. James leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin despite the chill of the air.

“Is this the moment I get a kiss?” he murmured, his voice low but firm, his blue eyes flickering between your eyes and your mouth.

His smile softened, and you nodded. “I thought you’d never ask.”

That was all the permission he needed. James lowered his head, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was right. The world seemed still around you, the snow falling silently as his warmth filled every part of you.

When he pulled away, your cheeks were an even deeper shade of red, and you could feel the heat rising to your own face.

“Oi, Prongs!” Sirius’s voice shattered the moment, his tone exaggeratedly scandalized. “Are you two snogging or strategizing? Because from here, it looks like we’re down a teammate!”

“Merlin, James, we’re trying to win here!” Peter chimed in, his breathless voice somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

“Get on with it already, mate!” Remus added, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

James groaned, clearly reluctant to move, but the way he looked at you—his nose almost brushing yours again—made your stomach flip. “Don’t mind them,” he muttered.

You laughed softly, reaching up to adjust his glasses, which were still slightly askew. “They might actually freeze solid if we keep this up.”

“Let them,” James murmured, stealing another quick kiss that made your cheeks burn just as much as his.

Sirius groaned even louder. “Unbelievable! Right, lads, let’s pelt them with snow until they remember they’re on a team!”

Before you could react, a handful of snow hit the side of James’s head, courtesy of Remus. Peter followed up with his own poorly aimed snowball, which hit Sirius instead.

James laughed as he pulled you to your feet, his hand lingering in yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as you both struggled to stifle your laughter.

“You’re impossible,” you whispered, unable to hide the fondness in your tone.

“And you’re stuck with me,” James replied, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and adoration that made your chest feel impossibly light.

The teasing voices of the Marauders grew louder as they approached, Sirius leading the charge with an armful of snowballs. But as James wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, the chaos around you seemed to melt away.

“I hope you know this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your temple.

You smiled, leaning into him as the snow began to fall again. “It’s definitely up there.”

“And next year,” he added, his voice low and full of promise, “I’ll make it even better.”

The snowball that hit the back of his head moments later didn’t do much to ruin the moment. If anything, it only made the laughter that followed even sweeter.

[mawlbone]

not on theme but what if......

pregnant ghost, pregnant nikto? pregnant krueger?????????

(i need them pregante)

WADDLE - GHOST, NIKTO & KREGUER

SNIPPET: A little peek into the domestic lives of these soldiers and their partners learning to adapt with a little one on the way.

[CW: amab reader, afab characters, and afab terminology usage, no reader’s pronouns mentioned, trans pregnancy, anxiety attacks, vomiting, cramps, slight rutting, implied sex, and physical and mental health issues mention.]

[COMMENT: Thank you for the request! Sorry about writing this so late, I wish to do the shorter asks to clean up my drafts because I am mentally exhausted everyone. Also since I already wrote about pregnant Nikto in “Cracked Cradles”, I advise new readers to read that to get some context for his part. And special thanks to fish for giving me more brainrot for everyone. And there is angst because unfortunately these men are so miserable.]

Before the deep dive, there will be a lot of personal headcanons and thoughts given to each character that I will discuss before divulging into the ask to give more context as to how they will act during pregnancy in the order above. But I will TRY to keep it short and do a whole post about it later to save you the trouble! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

For all what is considered “Simon” or “Ghost”, I wholeheartedly believe at the end of the day, he’s the kindest character in COD because of his upbringing and how he treats people he feels personally responsible for.

If you look back in the Modern Warfare 2: Ghost “Dead Life”, a lot of details are dropped of his childhood such as his father’s abuse, Tommy’s bullying and drug addiction later in life, and how it was only really having his mother defending him from everyone else. In this type of environment, it’s quite easy, hell even understandable for someone to become resentful and lash out. I won’t blame him if one of his main reasons to joining the Air Force was to escape the house once he was old enough.

But despite having to come home to his mother’s distress after his service to the news of Tommy’s newfound drug addiction and stealing to further fund it… He decides to take a long break and still decide to take care of the boy, now man that once too contributed to his troubles along with his father and get Tommy help and kick his father out of the house and declare he’ll be the one taking responsibility for them now as simply Simon.

He’s rational, he understands that his father is the root of everyone’s troubles such as introducing Tommy to drugs in the first place and constantly distressing his mother with his infidelity. And people may think this show of selflessness is only in 09’ Ghost but even 22’ Ghost, he is quite caring such as constantly joking with Soap with his dry ass humor to lighten up the tension during operations. Even dropping his professionalism when worrying about his sergeant during that specific scene when Soap collapses and didn’t hear a response from him with such a soft tone. All of that as if the nickname, “Johnny” wasn’t enough haha as Ghost too. Simon’s kindness never left him even after all his trauma.

He’s such a sweet boy.

Nikto and Krueger, while there is not a lot of detail for both of them canonically, (I cry miserably at this), I do imagine both of them led quite lonely childhoods and joined armed service to find some purpose in their life. Also the both of them having passive suicidal behaviors that never got really checked for their psych evaluation because the higher ups just need bodies at the end of the day to train, not humans.

Look, Nikto is considered still so useful and effective that the bosses declare him too valuable to waste post torture which is scary to think about, so I won’t be surprised if Kreuger has some issues of his own that he keeps covered underneath that mask of his. I’ll write a whole analysis for them later too like Simon’s because I love them too! But this is already getting too long, so hope you enjoy domestic life with them.

Ghost

Being with Ghost means that you will have to deal with death constantly at the steps of your door with the life he leads. So he will be the type of person who absolutely will refuse to get pregnant unless he’s retired or has some 30 step plan in place to keep himself safe during it. Listen, he’s older and more experienced now, therefore that means he made a lot of new enemies and he already lost his family once, please don’t make him go through it again with you.

Though it doesn’t stop him from contemplating the family life with you still whenever he sees a family on the streets while you’re out on a walk together. It makes him not exactly bitter, but somber if more so than anything wondering if he’s depriving you of that type of joy. He really likes his job, it practically defines him but staying at home and having a family again sounds a bit too good for him.

When he does get pregnant eventually after years of reassurance from you and preparation with the help of Price and Laswell to help him conceal his identity even further and moving somewhere quiet, Ghost will desperately try to be at peace throughout the duration of his pregnancy because he doesn’t want the baby to suffer from all his mood swings, and have issues because of all his hormones screwing with him. He heard it will have detrimental effects on the baby from the few parenting books he picked up.

Alongside this point, I do think the Rileys has a history of mental troubles and the last thing Ghost will want is to carry it down further to his baby. It’s not exactly that he’ll hate his child or his late family if they do inherit it but he will rather they led a much more happier life than he did without feeling like a burden all because he was greedy to have a family again.

He’ll heavily latch himself onto you whenever a nasty thought keeps cracking against his head. Getting all insecure and dealing with horrible intrusive thoughts wondering if he’ll repeat his father’s cycle of abuse onto his baby, it doesn’t help that he already looks so much like him. He will probably beg the baby to look more like you than him because the thought of seeing a resemblance to younger him makes him ill enough to lose any appetite for the rest of the day.

But months of watching you kissing and talking to the bump all while praising him for practically just existing makes his heart feel lighter about the matter when you stroke over his stretched skin and tell him how gorgeous he is still. His favorite however, that makes his heart unbearably warm is when he wakes up in the morning to see your sleepy head pressed against his tummy cuddling into the baby unconscious every time without fail. He doesn’t tell you about the countless photos he took of that moment with the golden light bathing you in warmth and illuminating that shiny ring on your finger.

During the pregnancy phase, you’ll have to move your shared bed to the corner of the room so he can feel safe while sleeping with the wall and you pressed again him, protecting and keeping the baby and him warm from the outside world. One of the many little things you had prepared for him to sooth his worries and insomnia, and when it gets so bad due to your husband’s anxiety, you’ll resort to taking Ghost into the car and driving endlessly throughout the night on long roads and around neighborhoods until the ride lulls him back to the gentle embrace of sleep fogs over his eyes once more. A large helping of sticky toffee pudding also gets him at ease enough to rest happily with how much he been craving sweets lately to end off dinner.

He becomes much more relaxed as he gets further along his pregnancy after his mind becomes more secure, just ditching the pants and wearing loose shorts and shirts around the house because he had enough dealing with soiled clothes due to his leaky chest and numerous bathroom runs because the child keeps kicking onto his bladder to annoy him for not giving her enough attention or when they just kicking Simon to go to you because they miss you too.

So you’ll have to deal with grumpy Ghost who become more needy and squirming to fit underneath your shirt to feel you skin to skin with him. Badgering you and all to help him with his aches because it’s too uncomfortable and he’s tired! Despite those annoyances, he becomes much more playful and all smiles when you decide to work from home so you can watch over him during the last few weeks until his due date. Long slow days where you get to see him sleep more and become louder, already preparing dad jokes and all that jazz.

But it’ll only be his misfortune one day when he laughed too hard at his own lame joke, and causing his water to suddenly burst like a broken dam as you watched in pure dismay, and leading him out the door with the bags to the base’s hospital with your now sheepish husband covering his reddened cheeks.

Nikto

Personally, Nikto in my interpretation has endometriosis and therefore has much more issues with getting pregnant in the first place with the additional pain onto him. So in “Crackled Cradles”, it was basically luck that he was able to get his daughter in the first place with more than enough affection to heal his pain away with the amount of pampering he gotten while pregnant.

With the newest addition in the family now, he’s perfectly content with you being out of his sight while he’s bonding with his baby and doing some housekeeping when you’re stuck in your home office for hours on end, just crying to yourself silently that you cannot be with Nikto despite only being a few rooms away because you have deadlines to meet. But hearing the happy cries and the warm raspy voice of your husband just outside your door motivates you enough to continue on. Even if you have to endure the droning old instructions that your superiors have to repeat continuously.

Days where he peeks into your office to drop off lunch and for some kisses or hearing your daughter crashing in on her walker babbling for some attention from you too, only for her to be dragged back outside as her protests fade away by Nikto’s hand dragging her car back outside are your favorite parts in your life nowadays. If she comes early enough, somehow miraculously avoiding Nikto’s detection, you’ll settle her on your lap for some snuggles while you work.

With the abundance of affection that Nikto receives from you and his daughter, that doesn’t stop him from constantly pawing at your pants though as he whines and demands for another baby from you. You’ll find him begging, all teary eyed for one during his birthdays, anniversaries and even during the holidays because he wants more little you’s running around the cottage. It makes you sigh at his baby fever, especially when it gets the worst during his periods as he drag his bottom against your thigh to relieve his aches, trying to tempt you into knocking him up again, praying for hopefully more than one this time. He became so greedy and it’s your fault that he became like this after keeping him all sweet and warm, so take responsibility why don’t you?

If you wish to be mean to him, you can put on a condom on last minute to ease his aches and watch him sob when he feels rubber instead of you as he curses you for being to horrible to him. Thrashing and scratching up your back because while you’re relieving all of his bad aches, he truly wants another baby so he doesn’t feel lonely again once you two grow old, he doesn’t like the idea of an empty nest in the next few decades.

So you shouldn’t be surprised the next night after tucking your daughter to sleep when you have to face your dear husband sitting atop of your bed, glaring at you enough to kill you twice before you turn your head to see his knife embedded into the empty box of condoms besides him. “Do it properly this time”, you’ll hear him growl as you feel cold sweat begin to drip down your back. It’s not exactly that you wanted to be mean to him, it’s that you will rather save him from the heartache since he’s already at a high risk during pregnancy. But you feel that’s too late to say as you watch Nikto begin to stalk towards you.

It’ll only be a few months later when you are met with a positive pregnancy test in your hand with Nikto with a smile so smug, he practically looks like the cat that ate the canary. You should had already learned to never mess with a dedicated soldier, especially if you are married to one. You don’t exactly have the heart to scold him gently that day for risking his health once again when he’s beaming so brightly at his bump once again.

You decide to hold it in and now just enjoy watching your daughter sleep in between her father’s legs for nap time, trying her best to lay her head as light as possible on her sibling when you came out of your office to check up on them, worried about the long silence for too long before joining their cuddle pile. You’ll take any chance for them to rest, as you gathered more cushions surround them as you continuously had to guide Nikto to go nap as well after spending too much time making matching clothes for the baby already.

Though his skin is already marred with heavy scars from the torture he had experienced, it’s not exactly he’s insecure of them much anymore with the new stretch marks littering about his arms and thighs after his first pregnancy when you made no shame in showing your appreciating by smoothing over the leftover flap of his stomach and helping him bathe and taking over his scarred skin. It makes him feel satisfied with this new life, even if he’s reduced to be more “harmless” now.

He doesn’t get what you mean when you say he looks “beautiful” when he feels all sweaty and disgusting from the labors of pain, but all that matters is the opinions of his children and you in his life, so he’s quite content even if it gets a bit busy and you have to work overtime sometimes to free your weekends to spend time with them, but life is good. He’ll have to get a bigger bed soon to fit everyone later and perhaps do some renovations on the cottage later.

Kreuger

For all what is known and isn’t known about the ever changing operator, under cold lights and the sturdiness of his form, he’s ever so reflective in the way tiny green toy soldiers are. You’ll watch dark beady eyes gaze upon you when he comes crashing into your clinic. And there you’ll become fascinated with the way his back muscles fold under your hands like cheap plastic.

There’s no label for this, that’s just how it works between you, him, and the silence that envelopes you all into nothingness in the long quiet. So as long as no one knows what happens behind the closed doors of your office, this standstill will continue between you and him. Even when the heat becomes unbearably nauseating when teeth meet flesh.

It’s a familiar tango, there’s no rush for you to evade the cloak he surrounds himself with. Always rummaging through your file cabinets to help himself to your snacks, you had since learned to order more of his favorites for him. Greedy bastard…

He’s cute enough to get away with it when he sleeps so soundly atop of you, with his head buried within your neck or in one of the clinic’s bed while you work. But you had been getting a bit worried with how he’ll been more sleepier nowadays. You’ll get an answer a few days later when you hear the familiar sounds of boots hitting tiles, only to be jolted at your disgruntled partner staring at you before sliding the positive test onto your desk.

There’s very little things that Kreuger can keep himself attached to. Constantly switching jobs and names entirely, except for skin and bones. It’s a shame that he keeps resting from his loneliness, he rather not open himself up for a knife to be rammed inside his chest. So forgive him if he’s a bit awkward, foolish at worst with how he tries to talk without sounding like an automated machine. He rather not leave himself all exposed but years of exposure under your hands left him trusting enough to tell you. If he wasn’t, he would’ve ran away long ago.

Arrangements had to be made immediately for him as he heavily insisted on keeping his career and the baby, but it’s fine, you had already understood this long ago when he first begin crashing into your life. Kreuger had always been adamant on having the freedom to move around, so if anything, it’s quite nice to see him more standstill if anything, all curled up and hogging the sheets. You’ll deal with the earful from your superiors later for taking him off the field for a bit.

And with how elusive Krueger is, it shouldn’t be a surprise that his pregnancy is too a mystery as you held his practically nonexistent bump. Feeling over the alabaster skin, you’ll move your hands to his newly formed love handles instead and squish the side of your hips as he complains about how much your child had been squeezing itself into the back of his stomach and them giving him back pains. You’ll laugh though when you gently poke the child to feel them and watch as they push against your hand all annoyed for bothering them. Before Kreuger deciding to grab your own to hold instead.

He’ll heavily complain about how clumsy he feels nowadays, unlike his agileness before, he more or less been could be taken as a penguin on olive oil with how much he has to hold himself onto you now. It makes him unbearably angry sometimes with how bad his legs cramp up and you’re not there to hold him. He doesn’t like anyone else touching him and he already shuns away from most of the base anyways, thankfully his silence is enough to scare most people off anyways. So you’ll try your best to massage his aches away and help him tidy up his scruff when he becomes too tired to do anything.

Eventually when he reaches his third trimester, you relocated him back to your home with him to be more comfortably situated. No longer is he confined to the cafeteria’s slop or your cabinet to fulfill his strange addictions. Here in your kitchen, he can thrive on making his fancy little sandwiches with all types of breads, cheeses, and jams filling up your cabinets now. And other small finger foods like hard pretzels to eat throughout the day. He would rather not deal with the nausea from a full stomach nowadays. But the child seems to be delighted by the taste of apple juice nowadays as Kreuger bemoans about how they are the most active whenever he’s drunk some to satisfy his cravings and kicking him excitedly before resorting back to his spine out of all places.

Desperately needs some quiet or ambient music playing whenever he goes because he doesn’t look the fogginess of his brain screwing with him and despises vomiting, so often you’ll have some gum of smelling salts for him to cool down. It leaves him a little too raw for him to deal on a regular basis. You regularly go on your knees to massage his swollen feet and put socks on for him when he cannot anymore.

While Kreuger huffs and puffs all he wants about the pain, you’ll hear him speak little endearments to the child and catch him sleeping outside with a blanket over his stomach in a porch’s chair, letting the cool evening breeze rock him to sleep. You decide to make yourself cozy and settle beside him in another chair, watching how soften his face had become without the harsh lines of anger and that net casting his face into obscurity. His face become more rounded now, sharp lines turned puffy from sleep and more weight holding onto him. He’s more human than he ever been, no longer that statuesque toy soldier you once knew before. The moment would had been endearing if it wasn’t for Kreuger’s noisy snoring scaring away the birds.

Even with a few rough patches here and there, you’ll watch Kreuger pace around the house carefully as he holds his bump and asking you to rearrange the nursery around to fit his preference. With full drawers and the sight of your sleepy husband partaking in this joy of picking out what he wishes is peaceful. You’ll have to hire someone to help you both for the birth later with how Kreuger’s lack of identity will cause trouble for the baby later, but in the present moment, you’ll simply partake in watching your man trying to choose between the two different floral sheets to align the crib with.

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 1)

I was so excited to hear this Takeover since it is only Sonic and Shadow talking to each other and answering question. It is one of those times where you get to see their dynamic without anyone else's input.

Since I feel like I could write an essay about these two, I decided to instead put all my thoughts into bullet points, this being Part 1 of my list:

First of, congratulations to Shadow for hosting the Takeover! Shadow sounds so proud of having managed to take over the channel and having gotten a whole year for himself. At least until Sonic reminds him that he is also there.

Why does Sonic's mind immediately jump to ''marriage'' when he hears the word proposal? Is he still bummed over the fact that he didn't think of proposing to Shadow?

I never thought I'd live the day to hear Shadow saying ''Sonic x Shadow''. I know it's referring to the game, but shippers are going to have a field day with this.

Shadow finally got his #AskShadow. Sonic is not happy to lose to him.

The best way for Sonic to annoy Shadow is to just be around him, with Sonic adding how he'd slowly take his time when they're racing and drag it out, much to Shadow's chagrin. God, I love how Sonic trolls Shadow.

Sonic doesn't know about Doom Wing... and he forgot about Black Doom! X3

I love how Sonic's idea in a body swap scenario with Shadow is to brag about himself, while Shadow's idea is to tell everyone how Sonic is stupid... and more importantly, telling that to Amy. Sonic sounds really flustered, and while I get the Sonamy joke... I'm pretty sure they threw that in because they knew the Sonadow fans will go wild over this.

There you have it folks! Shadow doesn't hate Tails, but he will beat him up if he stands in his way. I also love how Sonic immediately jumps to Tails' defense - big brother gotta protect his little brother.

Sonic loves the journey, while Shadow points out how you need to learn from the experience to not make the same mistakes. I love their philosophy, since they mesh so well together... and it also feels as if Sonic wants to go on a journey with Shadow.

I love the scenario of Sonic and Shadow babysitting Cream and them arguing over their methods (Sonic, the twelve scoop ice-cream cone scenario is really specific).

Did Sonic just invite Shadow on an ice-cream date? As Cream's babysitters, but nonetheless, it is a date. And he also knows what Shadow's favorite ice-cream flavour is.

Okay, start the counter for how many times Sonic attempts to convince Shadow to go out with him.

I love how Sonic knows how to challenge Shadow and Shadow falls for it despite his reservations, even if it's something silly like a thumb war. Sonic knows exactly how to get under his skin and Shadow just goes along with it, much to his chagrin. X3

Sonic, Shadow and Silver have a Big Brother, Little Brother relationship! Love how they're ready to help him at any point of time and how Shadow respects Silver.

So, Sonic forgot about Elise? To note Sonic 06 technically did happen, but the universe did get reset.

I adore that Shadow acts like he doesn't care whether he's Sonic's biggest rival, but the moment Sonic starts trolling him by placing him between Zavok and... Dodon Pa? (What?) - Shadow gets irritated. It's obvious that Shadow wants the recognition of being Sonic's main rival, and knows Sonic is messing with him.

Did Shadow just laugh at the Joe Mama joke?

Shadow correcting Sonic's Macarena bit is hilarious, especially since neither of them know the lyrics. Also, obligatory Macarena singing is obligatory.

I love how Shadow shares Omega's ''enthusiasm for blowing things up''. We saw him enjoying himself blowing up G.U.N. property alongside Omega and Rouge in Sonic X Shadow Generations: Dark Beginnings, so I'm not surprised. Sonic then immediately figures he also needs to hang out more with Omega,... perhaps in hopes to get closer to Shadow?

Shadow pointing out how Tails is the reason why Sonic's always in trouble is not wrong. These two can be a disaster when together as siblings tend to do.

''Shadow, have you ever given Sonic a present on his birthday?'' ''No, my presence is more than enough.'' There are several things to discuss here:

Shadow is willing to buy Amy a present in The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, but couldn't bother get anything for Sonic, which is hilarious. Especially since we know that it was Rouge who convinced him to go to Sonic's birthday by promising him a rocket.

Shadow arrived at Sonic's birthday just after he was traumatized by watching Gerald and Maria return to their own timeline, knowing this was the last time he saw them again. I doubt getting a present for Sonic was on his mind at that time.

Shadow claims his presence is enough of a birthday present. I interpret this as him claiming that he is Sonic's birthday present and you can't stop me.

Sonic teasing Shadow about the Hot Honey concert is so hilarious... until Shadow reveals they're going on another concert, and Sonic's mood drops. Honestly, Sonic, if you want to go to a concert with Shadow, ask him out!

Sonic being so intrigued and even saying that he's jealous over Shadow smiling in Big's presence, and then suggests a fishing trip with all three of them. Not only does he want to see Shadow smile again, but he is still persistent about getting his date.

Shadow chooses to save Sonic from danger because he knows Sonic will get himself into trouble, so he needs keep an eye on him. This is completely out of Sonic Prime and I'm loving it! It really shows that Shadow cares about Sonic.

Sonic isn't too enthusiastic about going with Amy on shopping trips. Shadow, on the other hand, just buys what he needs, which is understandable... Sonic then immediately uses this as an opportunity to invite him on a shopping date, even saying how he'll make it fun. Shadow immediately accepts the moment Sonic turns it into a race.

They mention the matching outfits (possible reference to Sonic Speed Simulator)! Sonic believes they have similar tastes, Shadow calls it a coincidence and insists it means nothing, which Sonic doesn't buy at all.

''But if we do ever go to a party, you know I'm picking the outfits.'' Sonic is still desperately trying to get that date and Shadow is not budging. These two sound like a married couple.

I love how Shadow respects Sonic enough to refuse beating him in a swimming competition, even if he reasons that it's because Sonic would drown, so he wouldn't be able to see the look of the defeat on his face.

Sonic immediately mentions a ''plummeting to Earth contest'', which is just... woah! I didn't expect him to go that far. Shadow gets an UNO Reverse on him by teasing him about needing floaties. Go Shadow!

Sonic keeps his chest fur short to stay aerodynamic and run laps around Shadow. You guys do know that hedgehogs circle around each other in order to court?

Frontiers!Sonic voice is back! Shadow sounds baffled. X3

So, Classic Sonic is just chilling in the room. Shadow likes him because he's silent, though. I suppose Modern Sonic is taking notes... or not.

#Sonic X Shadow Takeover Analyzer (Part 2)

#Sonic Cyber Revolution (Masterlist)

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

Alina Starkov - the most inconsistent main character. A tragedy of not wanting to have an identity.

The main character in Shadow and Bone trilogy, a prime example of "she deserved better". A.k.a. soldier, Sun Summoner, Sun Saint. In reality, a false saint and a false hero, who has less personality, goals, spine and consistency than her three love interests. How did this happen? Short answer - bad writing. Long answer? Here we go.

Her character at the beginning - a blank slate.

Physically small and weak, sickly, fragile, with a sour face and sourer attitude. Grew up in an orphanage funded by a Duke, who they were taught to basically worship while looking down on religion and beliefs in saints. Children in the orphanage were beaten if they misbehaved or didn't do chores, but were given education and fine food, which means they were faring better than peasants and farmers. Alina had not many, but several options in her life. She could learn a trade that would not require physical labour, like sewing. Or, she could marry and hope her husband was gracious enough to buy a donkey instead of making her carry heavy sacks of salt on her back, as we see a random man do to his wife. But Alina had no hobbies, interests, aspirations or ambitions in her life. Except her childhood friend Mal. Mal gets a mandatory draft in the First Army, and of course Alina follows, and settles for being a mediocre cartographer. Mal thrives in the army, showing off muscles and hooking up with women, while Alina dutifully waits for him saints know why. She doesn't have other genuine friends, she doesn't like people, she doesn't like anything. This is not a bad start in a sense that there is much room for growth and improvement.

Refusing to belong

Alina discovers she's a long awaited sun summoner, who can vanquish the Fold and unite Ravka. She doesn't want to be special, but not for the reasons you might think. Instead of fearing the burden of such an important task or genuinely becoming paranoid of being assassinated (she gets over those in five minutes), she just...doesn't want the responsibility of actually being useful for something. She'd rather not have powers at all, and go back to being in a constantly sickly state. She'd rather be tailing Mal like a mouse. Which doesn't make any sense for following reasons:

Alina's insecurities in SaB:

Not being pretty and talented

2. Not being as pretty and talented as Grisha

3. Being an orphan, being unwanted.

Being a Grisha actually solves all those problems for her. She gets prettier and healthier once she stops repressing her powers, has a unique cool power, and a community that cares for her. Plus, the support from important figures in Ravka. In time, she could have a family.

Instead, she refuses to acknowledge she's one of them, doesn't train properly, preferring to cling to her prejudices and make digs at Grisha. She'd rather complain that they're prettier, confident and pampered than acknowledge they are serfs, nothing but glorified servants with no basic human rights. Instead of her superstitions and prejudices being shattered when she starts living with them and realizing what Grisha have to go through, becoming rightfully enraged that her people are being treated this way, she still doesn't feel any empathy. In fact, she still doesn't see the General as a HUMAN BEING WHO MIGHT HAVE FEELINGS, even though he makes time in his busy schedule of running an army to make sure she's comfortable, jokes along with her, listens to her fears and reassures her, etc. Why would he go through the trouble if he was heartless? He's the General of the Second Army, by the King's law, she's his soldier. She is obligated to obey him regardless.

The narrative supports her delusions.

I get missing her friend, I get struggling to adjust, but it's more than that. Alina is getting dragged along from a plot point to a plot point kicking and screaming, as if she has anything better to do. She doesn't have a life, why is she so against of getting one? Once she finally somewhat adjusts to her life in the Little Palace, it turns out Darkling has had malicious intents towards her powers all along! Aha, you were right to be prejudiced, Alina! Now abandon your people, your country, and run!

“He … he said that Darklings are born without souls. That only something truly evil could have created the Shadow Fold.”

Imagine telling a person who saved your life that he was a soulless abomination, even though you do not know him, and he is still kind to you and reveals as much about him as he can. There is no grooming and manipulation here, it's just called not being a bitch. Darkling tells Alina he's over 120 years old, Alina is an adult, and the damned kiss was consensual. Of course he didn't tell her everything. Even regular people don't reveal their life-long ambitions and deepest childhood trauma to their crush after several conversations. It took Alina months to stop being in denial about being a Grisha, still didn't like being one, you're telling me if Darkling set her down and explained the complex political situation and his plan to overthrow the corrupt monarchy and bring an end to the war, Alina wouldn't jump out of the window?

Alina running away, not confronting the problem, and straight up deciding Darkling was evil incarnate with no evidence snowballed into Darkling deciding she couldn't be trusted and taking more drastic measures. Liberation of his people was on the line and one pesky girl screwed up a carefully planned coup because she couldn't handle her feelings.

False badassery

Throughout the whole three books, every time Alina makes a decision, it's immediately followed by self-doubt, shame and scorn. But no actual objective criticism. We often see variations of "It was foolish, but I didn't care", "I knew it was reckless but I couldn't bring myself to care", but never her actually analyzing why, or deciding not to do something like that again. Her small victories are immediately followed by thoughts on how would others feel about it, even though the person in question isn't even there and couldn't give less of a shit: "Never is it to be said that Ana Kuya didn't teach us manners", "A cheap trick, but a good one. Nikolai would be proud". Ana Kuya was an abusive mother figure, Nikolai was using Alina's status to get the throne. Sure, it's good that Alina is capable of learning useful things from every kinds of people, but she doesn't think "That was smart of me. I learnt that. I'm proud of myself for an accomplishment". She thinks "Is it good? Would they like it? They like things like that, right?". She attaches herself to people that fit her view of "deserving" and helps them, even though it might not be for the best. Extreme lack of self-worth, combined with entitlement.

When Alina hears a rumour Darkling ordered his heartrenders to sew a traitor's mouth shut, she's horrified. Even though that's hardly the worst punishment for a traitor in an army. But when some pilgrims insult Genya, she orders to have their tongues cut out after they're given only one warning. When Alina commits violence at slightest provocation, it's baddass. But when Darkling commits a controlled necessary military act to stop enemies from overrunning the country, it's madness and is falsely labeled genocide. Look up the definition, genocide is what was happening to Grisha.

The Darkling never kidnapped children and put them in the war zone. He only lied to Alina that he did, a clever strategy with no bloodshed. Meanwhile, Alina let her cult fight for her, whose members were brainwashed children, some only twelve years old.

When Alina faces a dilemma or a tense military situation, her go-to strategy is suicide. That is not martyrdom, nor it is badass.

Darkling became a bad person out of good intentions and desperation, Alina is just a bad selfish person.

Desperate people are the ones capable of the worst acts. Darkling didn't go nearly as crazy as he could, and frankly had a right to on behalf of his people.

"Aleksander had marched south with the king’s soldiers, and when they’d faced the Shu in the field, he’d unleashed darkness upon their opponents, blinding them where they stood. Ravka’s forces had won the day. But when Yevgeni had offered Aleksander his reward, he had refused the king’s gold. “There are others like me, Grisha, living in hiding. Give me leave to offer them sanctuary here and I will build you an army the likes of which the world has never seen.”

It doesn't matter how much genocide, prejudice, abuse and dehumanization the Grisha suffered through for centuries all around the world, Alina never bothers to look at the big picture. Her help is only for those who she deems worthy of it.

She attaches herself to people who fit her narrow-minded view of "worthy". She immediately believes Baghra's rather flimsy expose of Darkling, even though the old woman has been nothing but unhelpful to her, only insulting her and beating her. But Alina associates her with her only mother figure, Ana Kuya, another old hag she had a toxic relationship with. And even though Baghra is an immensely powerful Grisha who refuses to help or even lift a finger, or just spit out vital information, Alina coddles her and provides protection. Instead of telling her to fess up the useful information and save her unhelpful comments, Alina looks up to her as a mentor.

When Genya tells her story, Alina feels bad for her, but not bad enough to see things her perspective. She only becomes protective of Genya once she gets mutilated, out of pity. If it was genuine compassion, she would've forgiven and understood her from the start.

Every Grisha has been hunted and shamed for merely existing, almost every Grisha has lost a loved one to war. But Alina pointedly ignores it, because she doesn't personally know and care for those people. Therefore, she doesn't feel empathetic. Because if she feels empathetic, she might start feeling guilty about how she runs away from her responsibilities at every given opportunity. Just look at this passage:

“You know what he plans to do, Ivan.” “He plans to bring us peace.” “At what price?” I asked desperately. “You know this is madness.” “Did you know I had two brothers?” Ivan asked abruptly. The familiar smirk was gone from his handsome face. “Of course not. They weren’t born Grisha. They were soldiers, and they both died fighting the King’s wars. So did my father. So did my uncle.” “I’m sorry.” “Yes, everyone is sorry. The King is sorry. The Queen is sorry. I’m sorry. But only the Darkling will do something about it.”

The Darkling never wanted power for selfish reasons. He didn't want to take over other countries or lift Grisha above regular people. He wanted his kind to have basic human rights. Centuries of diplomacy and servitude only gave him enough power to make a school for Grisha children and save adults from slavery and getting slaughtered by serving nobles. He wanted to use the Fold as a border, to stop enemies from invading whenever they pleased, so he would have the time to save Ravka from collapsing. What has Alina done? Started a civil war, destroyed the Second army and helped put a morally dubious man with no claim on the throne to continue an outdated absolute monarchy tradition.

Alina Starkov was meant to be the sun, but turned out to be a trick of the light.

Every time it felt like Alina was emerging from her cocoon as a beautiful butterfly, embracing her true self, she went back to the toxic situationship and the toxic mindset. The narrative also always struck her down. Every book begins and ends with her being sickly, fragile, missing an essential part of herself. It would be good if it was written differently and showed themes of being disabled or having a chronic illness accurately, but it's not. It started out well. Alina was removed from an abusive environment, found a purpose in life, started loving her newfound powers, outgrew the stupid crush who she was way too dependent on, but it all went downhill from there. And then some. This constant vicious cycle does not fit the theme of growth and improvement, and neither does the ending, where Alina loses her powers and goes back to the orphanage. Once again, she's frail and strange, servants (who she now employs) don't respect her, sneer and make fun of her, while her now husband Mal turns a blind eye. Everything is back to the way it was: Mal thrives, Alina is...there. The ending is supposed to be bittersweet, a couple who survived a war building a new life together, but I don't see the sweet part.

Trick of the light - definition: something appearing different from what actually is as a result of the quality of light.

Darkling wanted her to be a strong Grisha, his equal and balance. Grisha wanted her to be a capable leader, Bataar twins wanted a living saint they could worship, Nikolai wanted a wife interested in Ravka and politics. Alina tried to be all of that, but never really wanted to be any of those, so she half-assed it. Mal wanted the version of Alina who was small and insignificant, because anything more made him insecure, and he got his wish.

Illusion, mirage, spectre.

No matter how much the author tries to tell us that Alina's every problem is Darkling's fault, her thought process and actions paint a different picture. Alina was never mentally healthy and she never addressed or resolved her problems. Growing up in a controlled and abusive environment affected her more than anyone, including herself, wants to admit. I am not a licensed psychiatrist, so I will refrain from officially diagnosing Alina, even though she's a fictional character. I am NOT saying I know for certain that Alina has these, if any, mental problems, but she does have some alarming symptoms. It seems like depersonalization. While her symptoms don't fit into one particular mental disorder, I am reminded of psychiatric infantilism, but it is not a mental illness with symptoms. Psychiatric infantilism doesn't necessarily mean the person acts outwardly childishly. To explain very roughly and simply, it means the psych is not as developed as it should be (even if the person is very smart and clever). It shows in avoiding responsibility or not feeling it at all, problems with social connections, not seeing the big picture and taking it seriously, etc. When Harshaw tells the story of his brother getting brutally murdered by people who hate Grisha, even brash Zoya is appalled and expresses her condolences. While all Alina thinks about is that Harshaw might base his hope of having a better life on her now.

Alina also might have Dependent Personality Disorder, but it's hard to say, since we are never shown her being on her own long enough to see whether or not she can take actually care of herself. But her relationship with Mal, Darkling and Baghra (after she no longer objectively needs them) is weird, to say the least.

She never gains the sense of self or an identity, she refuses to become something, then delivers an inner monologue of accepting her fate and five minutes later goes back on her words. Her willingness to sacrifice her life is never out of thinking of the greater good and future, justice, or patriotism. She just doesn't want to live, especially without Mal, who has been doing nothing but shitting on her. Her titles are slapped on her, and she peels them off. Her personality never really changes. Everything she went through feels like a really bad exchange program she was in for a year, and from which she has learnt nothing.

P.S. I don't hate Alina's character, I just mourn her lost potential.

If you have made it to the end, I salute you, congratulations and thank you. 😊 🙏 ❤️

[bethanydelleman]

To be frank, I find the introvert/extrovert discourse online insane and completely ridiculous. People will fight to the death about if a character, Elizabeth Bennet, is an introvert or an extrovert, and people: they are opposites. If I/E aren't easy to tell apart for a main character of a novel, the categories are meaningless. But then oddly, considering that no one can tell I/E apart, extroverts are also some weird totally different species from introverts.

But Elizabeth Bennet is an extrovert and checks every single extrovert box and the reasons real internet people keep giving that she isn't are bonkers:

She takes solitary walks. I have some crazy news for you, extroverts can walk. I, a certified extrovert, take solitary walks nearly every day because I have a dog, whom I adopted knowing I would take her on these walks. It's shocking I know; I don't even die of loneliness at all! Consider for a moment that Elizabeth Bennet spends all day surrounded by four sisters and a very talkative mom, not surprising she takes walks alone occasionally. You'll also notice that she does invite her sisters along most of the time.

She reads. More shocking news: extroverts can read. Some of them read a lot. You know enjoying being around other people doesn't exclude reading. In fact, in the Regency you could even read aloud as a group activity! That is something we see in the novel. And Elizabeth also puts down her book when she finds a conversation more interesting.

She processes issues internally. That is not her preference, she likes to talk it out with Jane. When she's leaving Hunsford, Elizabeth is desperate to finally talk with Jane about all the crazy stuff that has happened to her, but she is forced to conceal a good deal of it because it's about Jane. She can't discuss Darcy with the Gardiners because his proposal is a secret, but she is eager to talk about the Lydia thing and learn her uncle's opinion. Also, extroverts are fully capable of processing internally, because again, not a different species.

She has trouble talking/feels awkward after the second proposal. Who wouldn't be awkward? Do people honestly think extroverts never feel awkward??? Not even when they love a guy that they verbally destroyed a few months ago? Not even during a confession of love? We uh... do. We get awkward too. In fact, sometimes when an extrovert talks rapidly, they are trying to talk their way out of an awkward situation. I have to work myself up to making phone calls.

Anyway, it drives me totally up the wall. Elizabeth Bennet is an extrovert, she thrives around people. Both end couples, Jane & Charles and Elizabeth & Darcy, are introvert/extrovert pairings, which is fun. If you want an introverted heroine, Jane Austen wrote five of them and they are all excellent: Elinor Dashwood, Marianne Dashwood, Fanny Price, Jane Bennet, and Anne Elliot. Catherine Morland, Emma Woodhouse, and Lady Susan round out the extroverts. It's awesome that Austen had such range in heroines.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Croatoan | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, canon violence, canon gore, medical stuff lol

Word Count: 6176

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Sam had another vision; one involving Dean killing some dude strapped to a chair. Apparently, the dude had been begging, saying, “It’s not in me!” 

‘What’s not in him, though? A demon? THE demon?’ you thought as he relayed his story.

“Well, I’m sure he had good reason,” you told Sam when he was finished.

“Well, I sure hope so—”

“What does that mean?” Dean grunted.

Sam didn’t reply.

“I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man,” he scoffed.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“He wouldn’t, Sam,” you stated, your tone warning.

“I never said he would!”

“Sure seemed implied,” you commented.

“Look, we don't know what it is,” sighed Sam. “But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine,” Dean said.

“Fine,” said Sam.

The rest of the drive to Crater Lake, Oregon, was done in silence. 

***

You pulled into the small town of Rivergrove along the main strip of small businesses and homely apartment complexes. Most of the shops almost looked like wooden cabins, and you approached a man sitting under one of the wooden overhangs cleaning a rifle. 

“Morning,” Dean called.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” He turned to you.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled out his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Kymberly Herrin. U.S. Marshals.”

The man furrowed his brows. “What’s this about?”

“We're looking for someone,” he answered.

“A young man, early twenties,” added Sam. “He'd have a— a thin scar right below his hairline.”

The man seemed surprised. “What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us,” Sam replied. 

“Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet,” Dean chuckled. He looked down at the intricate tattoo on the man’s forearm. “I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal.”

“What company?” the man asked.

“Echo-2-1,” Dean replied, smiling proudly. 

Sam got back to business. “So, can you help us?”

The man hesitated before talking again. “Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

Dean nodded. “Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?”

“With his family, up Aspen Way.”

“Thank you.”

You bumped into a telephone pole as you and the brothers headed back to the car. You looked down at it, and something caught your eye. There was a single word etched into the pole: “CROATOAN.” You brushed your fingers over the etching. “Guys, look.”

“Croatoan?” Dean read.

“Yeah.”

Dean looked at you blankly.

Sam gave him a look. “Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?”

“Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills become laws…” Dean trailed off.

“That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock,” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Anywho,” you cut back in. “Roanoke was one of the first English colonies— late 1500s-ish?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that,” Dean said excitedly. “The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.”

“Yeah. There were theories,” you continued. “Native American raid, disease, famine, but nobody really knows what happened. They were all just… gone. Wiped out overnight.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean—”

Sam cut him off with a sigh. “Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?”

“Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…” Dean trailed off.

“We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?” Sam suggested.

“Good idea,” you said. You pulled out your phone to call Bobby, only to discover you had no signal. “Great. No signal.”

The two brothers took their phones out as well. 

“Huh, me neither,” said Sam. 

“Nada,” Dean stated.

“Payphone, maybe?” you tried, leading the boys over to one. Unfortunately for you, all you heard was a beeping to signify no signal. “Line's dead.” You hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step,” Dean noted, pointing at the payphone. 

***

You pulled up in front of a homely, slightly tacky cabin. Sam rapped his knuckles against the door, and almost immediately, a teenage boy opened it.

“Yeah?” he grinned.

Dean flashed his badge. “We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he's my brother,” the boy nodded.

“Can we talk to him?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Oh, he's not here right now.”

“Do you know where he is?” Dean pressed.

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, they're inside,” the boy nodded.

“Jake?” a voice called. ‘Oh, that’s his name.’ “Who is it?”

Dean spoke as the owner of the voice appeared. “Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane.”

Mr. Tanner seemed confused. “Wh— Why? He's not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all.” Dean flashed a winning smile.

“When's he due back from his trip?” questioned Sam.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows.”

The man’s eerie smile was far too cheerful for the current conversation. “No, I don't know, she's not here right now.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Your son said she was.”

Jake seemed caught. “Did I?”

This whole thing was weirding you the hell out.

“She's getting groceries,” Mr. Tanner smiled. “So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said. “We'll just check in with you later.”

The three of you turned back down the steps, and you waited to talk until you heard the door close. “That was kind of creepy, right? Little too… Stepford?”

“Big time,” Dean replied.

You headed around the back of the house, ducking down to avoid being seen by the Tanners. You caught sight of a poor woman with mussed up blonde hair tied to a chair sweating and crying. You cocked your gun as Dean kicked in the door, and you quickly shot Mr. Tanner in the chest when he tried to charge you with a knife. You turned to Sam and Dean who were over by the window.

“He got away,” Dean grunted, referencing Jake who had leapt out of the window.

“Great,” you sighed. You turned your attention back to the woman in the chair and noticed a profusely bleeding wound. “Dean, start the car. Sam, get her to the backseat. I’m gonna patch her up as best I can til we can get to a doctor.”

The boys nodded and rushed to do your bidding. You rushed to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out your makeshift first aid kit— a collection of wraps, bandages, antiseptics, antibiotics, sutures, sewing needles, thread, and painkillers you gathered from random pharmacies and kept in a small, vintage tin box with roses etched into the lid and occasionally refilled. You hurriedly got in the backseat with the woman, and you kept her conscious by asking her questions about herself. You learned her name was Beverly, and that her two sons, Duane and Jake, went fishing and hunting together all the time. Her first sign that something was wrong was that Jake didn’t go with his brother on the trip. After her hiccups mourning the death of her husband— for which you profusely apologized to her— and hissing in pain as you kept pressure on her wound, you finally arrived at a small clinic on the main stretch of road. 

You held the pressure on her shoulder as you led her into the clinic, yelling, “Doctor! We need a doctor!”

A young woman in a pleasant floral jacket and cute pink headband came rushing out, concerned. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” she asked the woman on your shoulder.

“She’s been attacked,” you explained, hurrying past her.

“Dr. Lee!” the young woman called.

The doctor instructed you to head down the hallway into an examination room. You gently placed her down on the bed, and Beverly moaned as you shifted position around her to continue holding her shoulder. The doctor came into the room moments later followed by Sam and Dean, who stood at the doorway. You filled the doctor in on the medical history you’d gathered from Mrs. Tanner on the way to the clinic, and the doctor immediately set to work stitching the wound. You tossed the tattered and bloodstained jacket Mrs. Tanner had been wearing into the garbage and washed your hands up to your elbows. 

Beverly began to explain what happened to the doctor, who seemed shocked. “Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?” the doctor asked.

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I don't believe it,” the young nurse breathed out. 

“Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?” Dr. Lee questioned.

“No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them.” Beverly shook as she spoke.

You walked out into the hallway with Sam and Dean.

“Those guys were whacked out of their gourds,” Dean commented.

“Ya think?” you snorted. “And what I don’t understand is, if they already beat and subdued her, why put that giant gash on her shoulder? That wound was fresh; like it happened this morning. Everything else seemed a few days old, at least.”

“Yeah, this whole thing is weird, man,” Sam added. “What do you guys think? Multiple demons, mass possession?”

“If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention,” Dean grumbled. “Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside.”

“I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs,” Sam reminded his brother.

“Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about,” the older brother chided.

Sam huffed, “I'm sorry, alright? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!”

“Boys, relax!” you scolded, standing between them.

Dean looked over your head at Sam. “No, it was an ‘it’. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

“Dean,” you murmured harshly. 

Dr. Lee stalked out of the lab, heels clicking loudly on the floor to let the brothers know it was time to stop arguing. 

“How is she?” you asked her.

“Terrible! What the hell happened out there?” she questioned.

“We don't know,” Dean shook his head.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.” Dr. Lee crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you told her. “All of us would’ve been dead if I hadn’t.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner —”

Sam cut her off. “Phones are down.”

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?” Dr. Lee pleaded.

“Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else,” Sam said.

The blonde ran a hand through her hair and began to pace. “I don't understand what is happening.”

“How far is it to the next town?” you asked her.

“It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“Alright, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help. You’re coming with me.” He looked down at you before clapping Sam on the shoulder. “My partner 'll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee questioned pointedly.

“We'll get back to you on that,” Dean responded. He then led you away from Sam and Dr. Lee and out to the Impala.

“What’d you do with Mr. Tanner?” you asked him.

“He’s in the lab somewhere. Man’s heavier than he looks,” he joked as he began to drive off.

“Dean, I killed him,” you mourned. “He was just a guy. Now, his two sons don’t have a father. He was a person.”

“(Y/N), since when are you all morally gray?” Dean questioned gently. His usual bite behind his sarcasm was missing. “I get it, but he wasn’t ‘just a guy’ anymore.”

“I know that,” you said. “That’s what I’m starting to get worried about. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice. Vamps used to be people. Hell, one of my first vamp kills was my parents. I don’t know what’s happening to me, man. I don’t hesitate— hell no— but… I don’t know.”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached across the seat and grabbed your hand. “I’m a straight shooter, too. I’m in the same place you are.”

You scooched across the bench seat and kept your hand entwined with Deans, playing with his fingers. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving the road. 

“Things keep getting weirder, dude. Since when do we second-guess?” You tried to muster a laugh, but your heart wasn’t in it.

“I know. This whole thing is spinnin’ out of our control. I hate it,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, me, too,” you murmured. “I wish we could’ve met under normal circumstances.”

He chuckled. “Hm. Me, too.”

The rest of the drive was spent hand in hand and silent. You continued to play with Dean’s fingers and kept your head on his shoulder. Only when you saw two cars blocking the road and men standing with their large guns drawn did you pull your head up. Dean’s grip on your hand tightened— whether to reassure you or himself, you weren’t sure— as he rolled to a stop. You noticed one of the men in front of you was the teenager from the Tanner house, Jake. He stopped the car, frowning. Something banged on the roof of the car, making both you and Dean jump. His hand never left yours, and he shifted his body toward the man leaning down into the window almost protectively in front of you. “Oh-ho-ho. Hey,” Dean awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry. Road's closed,” the man at the driver’s side window grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that. What's up?” Dean questioned.

“Quarantine,” was his simple reply.

“Quarantine? Why?” you asked. Dean stiffened and tried to hide you more with his body when you spoke.

“Don't know,” the man tsked. “Something going around out there.”

“Uh-huh. Who told you that?” Dean asked, sass lying just below the surface of his tone.

The man’s face was blank when he responded. “County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?”

“No. He called. Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?”

Dean laughed nervously. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, sorry.”

“I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute.” The man’s stoicism was beginning to drop, and the anger bubbling just below the surface was becoming visible.

“Yeah, I'll bet you would.” Dean released your hand to quickly throw the car in reverse. The man grabbed his collar and held on for dear life as you tried your best to pry his fingers off. Thankfully, Dean swung the car around, finally cutting the man loose, and sped away. The sound of guns firing at the car filled your ears, but none of the bullets seemed to be hitting their desired target.

“You okay?” Dean asked you, throwing you a worried look.

“Yeah,” you heaved. “You?”

“Peachy,” he grunted.

Suddenly, the ex-military man you first met in town stepped in the path of the Impala, brandishing a rifle.

Dean slammed on his brakes, and you put your hands on the dashboard to steady yourself.

“Hands where I can see 'em!” the man yelled.

“Son of a—” Dean grumbled, holding his hands up. You did the same.

“Get out of the car! Out of the car!” he commanded.

You slowly slid across the seat to the passenger’s side door as Dean started climbing out. You took the opportunity of your hands being hidden behind the door to quickly whip out your handgun.

“Drop the gun!” you ordered.

“Put it down, now!” the man yelled back at you. “Are y’all part of 'em?!” 

“No!” Dean answered. “Are you?”

“No!”

“You could be lying!” Dean protested.

“So could you!”

“Alright! Alright,” you broke in. “We could do this all day, alright? Let's just, uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other.”

The sergeant relaxed slightly. “What's going on with everybody?”

“I don't know,” you admitted.

“My neighbor— Mr. Rogers, he—”

Dean interrupted the man. “You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore,” the man responded gruffly. “He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone.”

“We’re heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left,” Dean explained.

“No, no way. I'm getting the hell out,” the older man stated.

“There's no way out, they got the bridge covered, now come on,” the older Winchester said.

“I don't believe you,” the man replied.

“Fine, stay here, be my guest.” It was then you noticed Dean was pointing a handgun at the man, too, who hesitated before walking over to the backseat of the Impala. He swapped his rifle for a handgun as he stooped down into the backseat, and you kept your gun trained on him over the back of your seat. The older man kept his gun aimed at you, but his eyes would frantically flick to Dean every now and again.

Dean looked between you and the man and put his gun away to be able to drive back to the clinic. “Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive.”

You pinned the sergeant to his spot in the backseat with a hard glare and your gun on him. He returned your glare and pointed gun the whole way to the clinic. Despite your aching arms, you refused to falter. “What’s your name?” you asked him, still on your guard.

“Mark.”

“Mark. Nice to meet you, Mark,” you smiled despite your situation.

Dean slowed to a stop in front of the clinic, and you and Mark mutually agreed to relax your guns. 

“Sammy? Open up!” Dean banged on the door to the clinic. 

Sam appeared at the glass a few moments later and allowed you inside. You kept your gun cocked and in your hand but pointed at the floor. 

“Did you guys, uh, get to a phone?” Sam questioned, looking between the three guns you were all brandishing.

“Road block.” Dean turned to Mark. “I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside.”

Mark looked between the three of you, hesitating, before heading inside.

“What's going on out there, guys?” Sam asked.

“Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus.”

Dean snorted. “Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she's right.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Really,” Sam answered. “And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The, uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“Cool. Demonic virus,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare,” Sam added.  “At least it explains why I've been having visions.”

“It's like a Biblical plague,” noted Dean.

“Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony,” Sam began. “Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “Well, that— that's terrific. Why here, why now?”

“I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people—”

Before any of you could speak, Mark called from the back of the clinic, “They've got one! In here!”

Dean entered the room behind Sam. “What do you mean?” he asked Mark.

“The wife. She's infected,” Sam explained.

“We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get,” Mark urged.

You hesitated, but only for a moment, before brushing past Sam and Dean into the lab with your gun drawn. 

“Whoa!” the sweet nurse from earlier exclaimed. “You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?” Sam pleaded.

“Can you cure it?” You turned toward Dr. Lee.

“For God's sake, I don't even know what ‘it’ is!” she cried.

“I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through,” Mark told you.

“Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!” the young nurse said.

You slowly walked over to the door of the utility room Beverly was being held in. You, Dean, and Mark held your guns steady on the door. Sam carefully opened it to reveal Beverly huddled on the floor in a corner, crying into her knees. She jumped as you approached. “Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them!” She pointed at you, Dean, and Sam, who stood over your shoulder. “They locked me in here, they— they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!”

“You sure she's one of 'em?” Dean asked, looking at his brother. 

Sam nodded. Mark pulled back, looking distraught, and you took the opportunity to step forward. 

In an attempt to hear as few of her cries for mercy as possible, you quickly fired one shot square between her eyes. Guilt immediately clawed at your throat, and you thought you could throw up. You stowed your gun and crouched beside her crumpled form. You moved her into a less disturbing configuration, laying her on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. You closed her paralyzed, open eyes and brushed through her hair with your fingers. With the back of your hand, you wiped your own eyes and stood, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you. 

Choked up, you pushed past a concerned Sam and Dean and headed out to the car. You grabbed your duffel bag to have some reason for going outside from the trunk when you heard a sound from down the street: a car approaching. Your breath caught, and you ducked behind the wall of the clinic’s entrance; back pressed to it. You peeked out briefly to see Jake was the one driving the car with the man who had tried to kill you and Dean earlier. Soundlessly, you slipped back inside the building and turned the lights at the entrance off. 

You locked both the door to the entrance and the door to the waiting room behind you, hurriedly pulling down the shades and turning off as many unnecessary lights as possible. You turned the light off in the waiting room and stormed into the lab where everyone was huddled together. You pulled down the shades behind Dr. Lee wordlessly.

“(Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re here. Everybody, get yourself a weapon from my bag if you know how to use one. Don’t grab one, get injured, and then get infected, got it?” you ordered.

Sam nodded and grabbed your bag from you. He threw you your bowie knife and pulled a hunting knife from the duffel for himself. 

The young nurse, who you learned was named Pam, dropped a vial of blood, and she screamed. “Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

Dr. Lee tried to calm her down. “You're clean, you're okay.”

“Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!” Pam cried.

“No, we can't because those things are everywhere,” Dean stated firmly.

Pam began to sink to the floor. “Oh god!—”

“Hey, shh, shh,” Dr. Lee told her.

Sam turned to you and Dean who stood together by the lab’s entrance. “She's right about one thing,” he said just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dean nodded. “Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice,” Mark cut in. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles— even with all your hardware we're- we're easy targets. So unless you've got some explosives…” he trailed off.

You looked up at the shelf of medical supplies and turned to Sam. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Yeah, actually.” He grabbed a bottle of potassium chloride and waved it at you.

“I’m lost, what’s happening here?” Dean questioned. “Speak, nerds.”

You deadpanned at him. “Potassium chlorate bombs. I’ve gotta figure out a way to ionize the chloride and get some oxygen in it; otherwise, this’ll never—”

Your explanation was cut off by a loud banging on the door.

“Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!” the voice called as you approached the door.

“It's Duane Tanner!” Mark announced. He opened the door to let him in, and you grabbed your gun in your jacket immediately.

“Thank god,” Duane breathed out, walking into the clinic. 

Mark locked the door behind him. “Duane, you okay?”

Dean quietly asked Sam, “That's the guy that I, uh—” he clicked his tongue.

Sam nodded, seeming shaken.

“Who else is in here?” Duane went to step into the lab, but Dean grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief,” he said. “Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

Dr. Lee led your group into the lab. “Pam?”

Pam seemed to understand what that meant and moved to gather medical supplies.

“Who are you?” Duane asked Dean.

“Never mind who I am. Doc.”

Dr. Lee nodded nervously. “Yeah, okay.”

“Duane. Where you been?” Mark asked softly.

“On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I— I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

Your heart squeezed in your chest and bile rose in your throat.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean whispered to you. 

You could barely hear him over your heart pounding against your ribcage. You then noticed a deep gash in Duane’s left leg. “He’s bleeding.”

“Where'd you get that?” Dean interrogated.

“I was running, I must have tripped.” Duane’s cool tone was making it difficult to read whether he was infected or genuinely had no idea what was going on.

“Tie him up, there's rope in there,” the older brother ordered. You complied and dug the rope out of the supply closet.

“Wait—” Duane said, attempting to stand.

“Sit down!” Dean commanded, pointing his gun at Duane.

“I'm sorry, Duane, he's right,” Mark agreed. “We've gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” Dean questioned, not answering the young man’s question.

“No, what the hell? No!” Duane frantically answered.

“Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?” Sam questioned. You could tell he was trying to deescalate the situation before his vision came true. 

Dr. Lee sighed. “I've studied Beverly's bloodwork backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane cried.

Dr. Lee continued. “It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so… no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

Sam looked over to his brother. “Dean, I gotta talk to you. Now.”

Dean looked over to you, and you nodded, standing up from where you’d tied Duane to the chair he was sitting in. You drew your gun and trained it on him while the brothers stepped out into the hall.

Dean reappeared a minute or so later.

“Where’s Sam?” you asked him.

He didn’t answer you. He simply cocked his gun and looked past you at Duane. Pam and Dr. Lee startled to their feet, chests heaving as they looked between Dean and Duane.

“No, you're not gonna—” Duane heaved. “No, no, I swear it's not in me!”

“Oh God. We're all gonna die,” Pam cried.

“Maybe he's telling the truth,” Mark tried.

“No, he's not him, not anymore.”

“Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!” Duane pleaded.

Dr. Lee shook her head and hesitantly looked at Dean. “I… I can’t tell.”

Duane began to sob. “Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I— I swear it's not in me. No, don't.”

Dean seemed to get choked up, too. “I got no choice.” 

You stared at him, eyes almost pleading him not to pull the trigger. However, you would also respect his choice if he did; you knew the risks. Dean trembled, hesitating, and finally lowered the gun. “Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

He left the room, and you followed. Dean let Sam out of the room he’d apparently locked his younger brother in wordlessly and kept stalking down the hall. Sam simply looked after him for a moment before turning back to the lab, but you followed Dean further.

He turned into a dark exam room at the end of the hall. You did so as well, making sure the curtains were drawn as tightly as possible before you flicked on the desk lamp. Dean sat in a chair while you sat in another, facing him. Neither of you said a word for a moment. 

“What made you stop?” you asked him.

He hesitated before answering. “Sam,” he replied simply. “And you.”

Your breath caught at his admission. “Me?” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear. 

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze. 

“Why?” you asked softly.

“Couldn’t let you watch me do that,” he muttered. “And… I want you to see me how I see you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean— You just— You remind me that there’s good out there. In all this crap. You make me wanna be better,” he admitted, gaze still pointed to the floor. 

You reached over and tilted his chin to face you with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. “Dean—”

He cut you off by surging forward to crush his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, winding your hands around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. He cupped your chin with one hand and grabbed your waist with the other. You kissed once, then again, then one final time before simply resting your foreheads against each other’s. You nudged his nose with yours, eyes still closed, and he stroked circles on your hip with his thumb. 

The two of you were broken apart by the sound of a scream and two shots being fired off. You barely shared a look before sprinting toward the sound with your guns drawn.

“It’s Sam,” Mark told you. “He’s infected.”

Your jaw went slack at the sight of Sam on the floor with an open wound on his chest and Pam lying dead on the floor beside him.

“Oh, god,” you breathed out, turning to see Dean completely shocked and terrified.

*** Your group had Sam tied to a chair with a bandage over his wound. Dean was angry, and Sam seemed defeated. Your heart broke for both brothers and for the fact that you were gonna lose an amazing friend soon. 

“Nobody is shooting my brother,” Dean stated firmly.

Duane argued, “He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.”

“Nobody is shooting anyone!” you shouted. 

“He was gonna shoot me!” Duane gestured toward Dean.

“You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!” Dean grunted.

Sam’s sad voice caught everyone’s attention. “Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself.”

“Fuck that,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things,” Sam pleaded.

“Sam, we've still got some time—”

Mark cut Dean off. “Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” He pulled out his gun.

“I'm gonna say this one time— you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? Do I make myself clear?!” Dean growled.

Mark’s face was set in hard lines. “Then what are we supposed to do?!”

Dean tossed Mark his kets. “Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now. (Y/N), you go with them.”

“Dean, no!” you said. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Sweetheart, you have to—”

“No!”

“Guys, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!” Sam cried.

Dean turned to his younger brother. “You're not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

Mark chimed back in. “No, he's right. Come with us.”

Dean just stared at him.

“Okay, it's your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee out the door.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dr. Lee told you as she left.

“Don’t mention it,” you said halfheartedly.

She shut the door behind you, and Sam began to cry.

You were repeatedly surprised by Dean’s sense of play and slight immaturity at the grimmest of moments. “Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something.”

“Don’t do this,” Sam pleaded. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“He’s right, (Y/N), you should leave,” Dean tired.

You crossed your arms and spoke with authority despite your soft tone. “Dean, we’ve discussed this already. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Give me my gun and leave,” Sam begged.

“For the last time, Sam. No,” Dean stated.

Sam slammed his fists against his chair. “This is the dumbest thing you've ever done.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” Dean shuddered.

“Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you two,” Sam sobbed. “You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?” Dean admitted.

“What?” you and Sam breathed out.

Dean pulled his handgun out of his waistband and put it on the file cabinet behind him. “I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life… this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it.”

Sam scoffed. “So, what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has—” 

“You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…” he trailed off.

“What is it about?” Sam questioned.

A knock at the door broke the tense silence settled over the room. “You'd better come see this,” Dr. Lee called through the door.

You quickly untied Sam and brought him out to where Dr. Lee, Dean, Mark, and Duane were already gathered. 

“There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished,” Dr. Lee explained.

“Croatoan,” you realized, looking over at the telephone pole opposite you.

***

Miraculously, the virus didn’t incubate in Sam’s blood. Strangely, when Dr. Lee looked back at the Tanner samples, the sulfur was gone, too. Confused and slightly uneasy, you and the brothers packed up the Impala. 

“Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come,” Duane suggested to Dr. Lee.

“I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care,” she told them.

Mark waved to the three of you as well as Dr. Lee. 

“What about him?” Dean pointed to his brother.

“He's going to be fine. No signs of infection,” she grinned.

You turned to Sam.

“Hey, don't look at me. I got no clue,” he said.

“I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just fuckin’ melted,” Dean griped.

“Why was I immune?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.” Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car and pulled away from the town. His words hung ominously over the car for the remainder of your drive.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[thesuperiorrobin]

Potential love troups? With a twist?

Friends to lovers ~

A classic love between two best friends as they try to hide their feelings for one another afraid it might ruin their friendship. Damian is brutal when he tries to hide his feelings—and sometimes wonder why you’re still friends with him. He falls in love with you because you understand him and aren’t friends with him because of who his father is. You fall in love because he’s a kind person despite being ruthless to everyone else. But to you he won’t return the feelings, will he?

Enemies to lovers~

Another classic expects it’s between the love of two sidekicks. You two fight around the city in the middle of the night while he’s on patrol. He hates how you’re always involved in everything and you hate how he stops you from everything. Won’t be a dull moment between the two when you aren’t throwing punches at each other. Until one day something bad happens and Damian dressed as Robin gets himself into trouble that leaves him bloody and bruised. You saved and cared for him—still keeping his identity a secret. He appreciated it.

Fake relationship~

Rumors going around about Damian dating this woman whom he does not like— so to steer clear from the news headlines he asked you, his long-term friend, to be in a fake relationship to get out of it. It works, but now the headlines are about you two, so you two play along for a few more months. Everything was fake. The dates that you purposely planned to get caught. But we’re the kisses fake too?

Forced marriage~

A marriage planned by your parents and his mother. Damian’s older now and now leads the League of Assassins with the burden on his back. You aren’t important to the league — and your only purpose is to give the Al Ghuls another heir after Damian. So you stand in the shadows, behind your husband everywhere he goes. Damian Al Ghul is a brutal man outside those doors, yelling at the people below him to work harder, a brutal man on missions he’s assigned. But behind closed doors, he’s a gentleman, towards you that is. A part of him pitty’s you. You didn’t ask to be married to a man like him. But you reassured him countless times you don’t mind it. A heavyweight leaves your shoulders when he promises to keep you safe. Maybe this forced marriage won’t be bad after all.

Soulmates/Best friends to lovers

An AU of mine where both you and Damian were married 100 years ago, so in love it made everyone jealous. You two were soulmates in another life, but that life was cut short after your lives were taken away from you. Now your souls are reincarnation to today's world. The world where you too are not a couple but rather best friends. There was some sort of connection when you two met and you instantly clicked. But you both have a small feeling you two should be something more than friends. “You think we were best friends in our past lives?” “I highly doubt that…”

Secret dating!

Can go both ways! You’re dating Robin, the vigilant sidekick that rides alongside the Dark night of Gotham. Ideally, you keep it a secret. For everyone—that includes Batman himself (but he knows) for many reasons the main one being He’s afraid of losing you. Some so many people want him and Batman dead and if they found out about you, you were as good as dead too.

Or

You’re dating Damian. You two agreed on keeping it private. Paparazzi doesn’t know what boundaries are in the world and Damian wanted to protect you from them. That was his main goal—that and keeping you a secret from his family. They’re embarrassing, to say the least, and if they found out about you he would never hear the end of it. Although Alfred already knows who you are.

[crab-people-overlord]

I was reading through someone else’s post who makes a great point about how both ‘Ginger Cow’ and ‘Humancentipad’ are both just…. painful episodes of Kyle suffering to watch, but how ‘Ginger Cow’ expands more on Kyle’s dynamics with the others so is an important one to not skip over. I already had an analysis of this episode queued up, but decided to share now lol.

What sets the two episodes apart is that ‘Humancentipad’ doesn’t really add much to any of the canon for the show, so you honestly don’t miss much if you skip that episode. It doesn’t really demonstrate any new dynamics or canon for any of them. We already know Cartman manipulates his mom and enjoys Kyle's suffering. And we already know Stan and others will try to help Kyle when he's in trouble. It's South Park business as usual.

But "Ginger Cow"? Even though this episode is similarly painful to watch, it’s very important in how it develops the relationships between ALL of the main four boys in relation to Kyle, especially the Kyle-Stan-Cartman triangle.

There's something very telling and interesting about how Cartman torments Kyle in this episode. It's not just his usual "ha ha Kyle suffers" routine - it's way more psychological and to an extent, more sophisticated than his usual tactics (funny to call breathing in farts sophisticated, but… eh, in the way he uses it as torture, it is). Cartman basically creates this whole elaborate scenario where Kyle has to CHOOSE to subject himself to humiliation, which is so much more twisted than just directly trying to cause him pain through the same remarks he usually does. He weaponizes Kyle’s own martyr complex against him, which is kind of genius in a fucked up way.

In the B plot, you have Kenny and Stan who just do not understand why Kyle is going along with Cartman’s whims. Stan has many scenes in which he confronts Kyle. He is genuinely trying to understand why Kyle is going along with this and not giving up - and Kenny to a lesser extent is in the background backing Stan up.

Stan tries many different tactics to get Kyle to stop succumbing to Cartman’s farting, and when he sees that Kyle is too stubborn to stop, he then tries to see where Kyle is coming from. He really respects Kyle, and in his mind, if Kyle won’t stop, there must be a reason for it, right? But Kyle won’t open up to the ‘why’ of it all. At one point, Stan starts his line of questioning again. “... Dude, we’ve been friends for a long time. Can you just at least tell me why you like Cartman’s farts so much?.... You like… how they smell? How they taste?.... Should I try them?”

He offers to try them himself to understand, which is WILD lmfao. But he just genuinely is so confused as to why Kyle is letting himself be tortured to the point that he offers to go try it as well, and if that isn’t a bro being a bro, then I don’t know what tf is. Of course, Kyle exclaims, “NO”, wanting to save him from the same fate as what he has to go through. Kyle is justifying it in his mind as he really does think he is being the chosen one to save humanity here.

While this episode is hard to watch, I do genuinely find the Stan and Kenny dynamics hilarious and underrated. The repeated scenes where Stan goes to recap his conversation with Kyle are so funny. At one point, Stan says, “I don’t get it, Kenny,” to a Kenny that’s been waiting patiently outside. Kenny just shrugs and says, “Dude, maybe he’s, like, mentally ill or something”, lmaoooo.

And then the moment where Stan goes on the big screen as he calls Kyle is genuinely funny to me as well. He tries to tell Kyle he found out Cartman’s been lying, and Kyle is like, “Duh, dude. Why the fuck do you think I’ve been going along with it 😭” And that’s when Stan finally understands why Kyle’s doing it. But he still tells Kyle he thinks he’s being a dick about it all, but ultimately decides to help Kyle out. I think the part where Stan tells Kyle sternly that he needs to apologize to Kenny as well is so fucking funny (and then Kenny’s cheery ‘It’s okay, Kyle!’) is everything lmfao.

Stan and Kyle’s dynamic here particularly is interesting to me because it is SO similar to their dynamic in the ‘Butterballs’ episode, just in reverse where Stan is the one lecturing Kyle for getting up his ass for trying to be a ‘savior’.

Stan mentions something like this many times, but when Kyle compares himself to Gandhi, Stan replies, “You know, I don’t think when Ghandi starved himself he was all ‘Dude look how fuckin’ awesome I am for starving. Check me out!””. This is pretty much the same parallel as Kyle telling Stan he was gonna end up naked and jacking it in San Diego in “Butterballs”. Both those episodes are painful for me to watch, but I do love how it shows how both Stan and Kyle care about each other enough to call each other out on their bullshit like real friends should.

I think that both Stan and Kyle both have moments where they get so caught up in trying to be the ‘hero’ that they don’t realize they’re being more performative and making justifications rather than actually helping. (other examples include ‘A Scause for Applause’ for Stan, and ‘Crack Baby Athletic Association’ for Kyle.) Note that I think these episodes are more the exception rather than the rule for both characters as I really do think both try their hardest in their own ways to be good, but those episodes are examples of what I mentioned above and add interesting depth to both their characters.

p.s. there’s a deleted scene where Stan and Kenny actually go to the doctor to try to find out what’s wrong with Kyle and it’s so cute lmfao. It’s giving the time stan went to the doctor to try to give up his kidney for Kyle. It’s short, but also shows how much they truly work hard behind the scenes to help their friend out. One of the screenshots provided is from that scene.

[zandicksz]

webttore x reader smut? :D i don't really have a plot in mind I just wanna have sex with him... also afab reader pls!!!

webttore my love

CW: messy sex, on the table, drool and saliva mentioned, somewhat subby webttore, getting caught (by original), segment is called Epsilon, somewhat established relationship, pet names (honey, darling), mentions of webttore being biomechanical,

the mechanical hum of all sorts of machinery echoed throughout the main parts of the laboratory, bouncing off of the steel walls while other iterations of Dottore worked, doing their assigned tasks for today, it was a mundane practice but one that they had all grown accustomed to over the multiple centuries they've spent 'rotting' or as the original likes to call it, 'working', it really makes for a dull work environment.

not when you're around of course.

ever since you came along productivity and morale has been quite high, tensions have been lowered and segments are less likely to bicker and argue over meaningless things about who's beaker is who's. with someone to seperate them of course, you.

earlier today, a segment, Epsilon, had gotten into a spat with the original, you don't remember what exactly but he was almost disassembled, so the most reasonable thing you thought to do was to just time him out, put him in an isolation room.

said isolation room was just one of the barren sleeping quarters the original had, a simple bed and a single light with a wooden table against the opposite wall of the bed, it was..normal, atleast.

"what a ridiculous statement!" the segment growls, "I don't get how hard it is for him to understand sometimes! it's simply that—" he began rambling on as you sat next to him on the bed, being his personal therapist for the moment as you did for all the segments in a bitter mood.

"honey.." you were half awake, your peaceful slumber was awoken by the earlier spat between Epsilon and your darling, the original. "all of you have different perspectives, yes? that's why all of you are different, because none of you see things from the same way. that's why Zandik disagreed with you, because he sees things another way from yours.." you tried to hold back a yawn but, eventually rested your head on his lap and let it out.

"come here, I have..work in the morning and I really need some sleep, okay? just..lay down beside me."

how it turned from gentle kissing on the bed, slowly sliding each other's clothes off, and eventually reaching the table, you don't know.

"Epsilon wait!" you cried out, it's been your nth orgasm and it's getting messy at this point, you can feel the mix of your fluids and his dripping all over the floor as you're bent over the desk, the chair laying haphazardly on the floor after you two had knocked it down trying to reach the table.

"nnh- just..just stay still- fuck!" he groans, he didn't pant or breathe like a regular human but his whimpers still left his lips, that's one of the things you loved about him.

not that you could think about it much, of course. his thrusts were rough and the gloved hands on your waist squeezed so hard you could already sense the trouble you'll be in with the original.

he kept his messy, messy rhythm as he was simply just chasing his own pleasure, going over to press his chest to your back and slot his face into the crook of your neck, gently licking a streak onto your face while he moaned into your ear, none his high pitched whimpers and moans were left unheard by you.

he leaned over a bit more, putting a leg on the table as he wrapped his arms around your body, one his hands going to fondle your breasts while the other helplessly and amaturely played with your clit, his whines picking up in pitch as he tried to make you cum before him, moaning into your ear while his thrusts got even sloppier and rougher.

this surely couldn't be good for his internal core, you could feel the heat it was generating inside his chest and how he looked like he was overheating but he didn't really seem to notice, not noticing the cooling liquid in his body that acted like blood was slowly starting to warm, not noticing how much he was pushing his limits just for you.

his mouth was hanging open, moaning and crying about how good it feels while he squeezed your breast, his whole body pinning you down onto the table while he got somewhat faster, one of his legs up gave him better access to your body, allowing him to hit every, single, one of your precious little pleasure points inside of you, the head of his sensitive silicone cock throbbed and ached as it just kept pushing against your womb over, and over again. the table rocked

as the table rocked underneath his thrusts, he grut his teeth before crying out, "nngh! hah- fuck! w- cumming! cumming I'm gonna cum!" he cries out into your ear, putting his whole body weight on you as he releases something way warmer than usual, his length aching as he stayed inside of you, groaning with an almost drunk expression, you panted underneath him, your eyes half lidded as you tried to recover from your plentiful orgasms.

you reached up a hand to gently cup his face, your breath slowing down as he practically was almost limp on top of you, causing you to overheat as well, how strange that you can still feel that sensation in a place as cold as snezhnaya with no clothes on.

"Darling please get up." you sigh,"no." he pouts, squirming his hips to reach even deeper inside of you, he doesn't experience this everyday, so of course he'll savor it.

your eyes were beginning to shut, the exhaustion from earlier catching up to you as you rested flatly against the table, letting them close for just a moment. the serenity in the room was soothing, it was quiet, cold and you were in the arms of an iteration of the man you love most.

the silence was broken as the door suddenly slid open with a hiss. "I assume you've taught Epsilon his less—" he looked up from the clipboard he was holding, his mask on but you could still see the scowl starting to form on his face. this wasn't good, for either of you.

"..oops."

[l-egionaire]

After getting into Epic The Musical, hearing the songs and seeing the Warrior Penelope AU, I can't help picturing this; Main universe Odysseus meeting a version of Warrior!Penelope.

Maybe it's just after Odysseus escapes Calypso's island. He lands on another one just for a few minutes to grab food from the trees when he hears a rustle in the woods. He withdraws his sword and a figure in a sheepskin cloak, armor, and a helmet emerges bearing a pair of twin labrys. The two prepare to clash, but then she sees his face.

"....Odysseus?"

His voice makes her freeze. She slowly removes her helmet, and his eyes fill with a mix of shock, trepidation and the slightest bit of longing.

"Penelope....?"

Both just stare at each other like ghosts. This woman looked so much like his wife yet so different. Her face had a number of scars hers never did. Her arms were strong and muscular, bearing their own marks. She was much older, though some part of him couldn't help thinking she was no less beautiful.

Quickly, he thinks this must be some kind of trick. Yet another cruel joke played by the fates. Perhaps some Siren of the land, another monster wearing his wife's face and voice.

And then, with shaking hands, she withdraws a bow. Not just any bow, HIS bow, Palontonos, looking just as pristine as the last time he'd seen it, twenty years ago.

His breathe goes heavy and his eyes start to flow with tears.

"Penelope....

"Odysseus...."

They both tightly hug each other, somehow knowing they weren't QUITE the lover they'd lost, but something close enough to soothing their fractured hearts.

Over a meal of roasted wild boar and fruit, the two talk about their lives. How they were so similar and yet so different.

The Penelope that both was and wasn't his told him of her life growing up in Sparta. Training as a warrior, learning to judge both might and wisdom and attracting the attention of Ares. How she'd taken the position as leader of the army that would march on Troy as she begged him not to go, reasoning Ithaca would need it's king there not risking dying in war and he'd allowed her to go, taking his bow along as a keepsake of home. Her voice chokes up when she speaks of having to kill the son of Hector and he hugs her again, giving them both a chance to share their guilt.

She then speaks of her own journey. How she and her crew had landed on the isle of the Cyclops. How with their help, she'd slain the monster once he'd killed some of her crew....and then went on to slay the Lotus-Eaters for putting them in such danger, unknowingly getting the attention of another god: Dionysius.

The wine god, furious with her for slaying his followers, struck her with madness. Tears fell from her eyes in a flood as she described being overcome with visions of a massive army of monsters on the beach, one by one, slaying them all...until she had come to and realized that the ones she had slayed had been her own crewmen.

She spent many despondent weeks trying to sail home, haunted now by nightmares and the screams of her fellow soldiers. Unfortunately, her troubles were far from over. As with no crew or navigator, she veered off course and sailed for days on ebd, eventually runnibg out of food. She landed on an island bursting with red cows and immediatly hunted one down, before being horrified to see the golden ichor that spilled from their veins. As she fled for her ship in fear, a bolt of thunder hit the ground. And she was once again met with the king of the gods.

The thunder god inflicted on her two punishments. The first.....she gripped the front of her chest, and he could see her throat tighten, it being too horrible to say. But she choked out that the second was to have the god of winds conjured a terrible storm that whipped her around and blew her far off course....all the way to the land of the giants.

With shaky words, she spoke of how the beasts smashed her boat to pieces with rocks and she spent more years than she could count, scrounging on their scraps like a rat, avoiding being eaten, struggling to fight and survive. Until one day, the goddess of the hunt appeared before her. The lady of the wild offered her aid, giving her a quiver of gorgeous silver arrows that never ran out, telling her to slay the monsters keeping her prisoner by becoming a monster in turn. And thus, the hunted became the huntress. She slew each and every giant she could find with her husband's bow and the huntress gods arrows. And once she was done, and had made a small craft, Artemis instructed her to follow her brother the sun and she would find her way home.

Odysseus saw the pain and fear and loss in her eyes. And without thinking his own story came out. The cyclops, his break with Athena, Aeolus, Poseidon, Circe, The Underworld, the sirens, Scylla, Zeus, Calypso (this time HIS throat tightened just as hers did talking about it and he could see the recognition of his pain on her face.), Hermes, and how was also on his own journey home.

They spent the rest of their time holding each other (that's all they would do, for they knew while they looked similar, they weren't the ones they loved) and then they both departed, Penelope after the sun and Odysseus towards the north star.

Neither quite knew why this meeting happened. A gift, cruelty of the gods, a mere freak chance, but both still took a moment to get small smiles, knowing they'd met the one other person who could understand their pain.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Another common way in which I think criticism of OFMD can fall apart is when people don't take the show at its word about what genres it's trying to inhabit.

This was one of the most annoying aspects of the few negative pre-release OFMD reviews, for me. Like I said, the vast majority let us know that we were in for a wonderful treat, but there were a few that complained that it took forever for "plot" to happen, and this is just such a bizarre criticism for me because I find it so hard to believe that someone who professionally reviews media could have so much trouble figuring out what the "plot" of a show is supposed to be.

But then this criticism just kept popping up, and it still makes me roll my eyes. Post-s2, in some Izzy fan circles there's been an argument that Izzy is a more important character than he actually is because "the plot only happens when he's around." And where these analyses fall short, I think, is that they fail to consider that OFMD has always been a character-driven show, not an action-driven one.

There's a difference between the main plot of a show and things that happen in that show. OFMD is a romantic comedy, it exists to tell us a story of Ed and Stede's romance. It plays with the romcom format, and a lot of the humor in the show comes from juxtaposing this with piracy as a backdrop. But piracy is not what OFMD is about; it's about a romance that happens to take place within piracy as a setting. Complaining that there's not enough action in OFMD is like watching Black Sails and getting mad about its overly-serious tone - that's a feature, not a bug.

If you expect OFMD to look like an action-driven story, there's really not a lot that happens, and you'll be disappointed by how seemingly jerky and slowly the "plot" moves. But it's actually a character-driven story, and if you watch for the main characters and the development of their stories, it's a very smooth ride. Bigger background elements, like Chauncey and the Act of Grace and Ricky's attack on the Republic of Pirates, are not meant to be a focus, they're meant to force Ed and Stede into situations that will reveal more about their characters and move their arcs along.

And I can't help but wonder if this criticism of OFMD is so common because people just don't expect a queer romcom to actually be a queer romcom. We're so used to stories where even queer main characters' romance has to take a backseat or only be hinted at. OFMD stands out because the romance actually is the point, and some people, I think, for whatever reason, just can't believe that.