#I'M SO GLAD PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED IN THIS AU BECAUSE I WILL BLEED FOR THIS AU!!!!!

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Three: Bad Timing

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: It's that time of the month and some new innocent boisterous visitors to the house don't make it any easier, in addition to you still being muddled over Robert's behavior.

Word Count: ~5,128

Warnings: Descriptions of menstruation, period stereotypical gender roles, some angst, nightmares, infidelity hints, age gap, slight daddy kink (sorry not sorry)

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy (especially this chapter as the children and their mother are my made-up characters), and this is essentially AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer.

Part One

Part Two

Tag list: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman @uniquetacofun

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know.

It happened midmorning, the familiar feeling of a bloom of crimson staining your panties as you were in the process of pouring out a full bottle of wine in the sink since you decided to purge all bottles of it from the house. Robert wouldn't be that upset; he was not extremely fond of wine and you couldn't trust it to make you feel happily drunk, for it seemed to have the opposite affect and you refused to succumb to the negativity, plus being compared to Katherine didn't help matters.

You left the bottle in the sink for the time being and hurried off to the bathroom, uncomfortably aware of the leaking blood and you pulled down your skirt and panties, frantically searching for the box of sanitary napkins tucked under the sink and once you retrieved a fresh pair of underwear from the closet, you affixed one in and groaned at the incoming cramping beginning to pulsate through your lower abdomen. You were glad Robert was not around to witness, although he had always been supportive and understanding, men in general tended to be peculiar about menstruation and sometimes you couldn't blame them; it was an intimately awkward pain in the ass.

You popped in a painkiller pill from the medicine cabinet and went back to the kitchen sink, staring down at the vibrant red splash of wine; a parallel to what just began for you. So maybe last night had not been just you overreacting from alcohol after all... As you uncorked the second bottle, it then occurred to you that this was an awful waste and you stopped, setting the wine on the counter and sighing. Maybe keeping a few around wouldn't hurt, especially when company came over... You'd just have to practice self control, that's all.

Around midday (lunchtime for most people), Robert dropped by, but he certainly wasn't interested in eating and only came to retrieve his hat and a briefcase, casting a quick cautious smile your way as you were sitting at the kitchen table, intent with studying for your nursing degree. At least that took your mind off your bleeding and the cramps had numbed from the painkiller, making the day bearable.

But around two o'clock, you heard a loud unexpected knock at the front door and startled, pushing aside papers and an anatomy book to go greet whomever it could be.

The mother, Mrs. Thompson, whom you'd discussed babysitting her two young boys on the first day here was there with them standing on the front step. Her children Duncan and Douglas were close in age, around three and four respectively and nearly twins; strikingly similar in appearance with their matching towheaded short hair and big brown eyes set in cherub faces.

You hadn't expected them so soon and it must have shown on your face because she was instantly apologetic, speaking hurriedly.

"I'm sorry if this is an inconvenient time, but I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to watch my little boys for a few hours as we talked about?"

"Oh, sure, I did promise to after all," you replied courteously.

"I'd be appreciative. It's my tentative first half day on the job and they don't have the daycare in operation yet, so it's been rather hectic and of course my husband works at the lab, so he can't babysit."

"Of course. Now what time do you think you'll be able to come pick them up?"

"Six o'clock, but we usually eat at five for supper and they tend to get so cranky and peckish, so-"

"I'll feed them, don't worry," you offered and her eyebrows shot up.

"Are you sure? I'd be so grateful if you could. Oh, and if you tend to have trouble telling them apart, just remember this: Douglas is the older one with more vocabulary and about two inches taller."

She touched the tops of their heads and bent to peck each one's cheek quickly before straightening up, giving them directives.

"Boys, please behave for Mrs. Oppenheimer and Dougie, look after your brother. Mommy will come back soon, okay?"

They nodded distractedly and then bolted off into the house curiously, already taking in this new environment and starting to chase each other around the living room. Mrs. Thompson shrugged with an exhausted laugh.

"Well, as you can see they are the opposite of timid. They can entertain themselves for hours, but that's just the problem; they just give each other endless energy!"

"I'll do my best to keep them in line and safe," you told her assuredly before bidding goodbye and closing the door, taking a deep breath and moving to sit down on a chair in the lounge, where the boys had stopped racing and were quietly exploring the space, peeking on tiptoes at the bookshelves and out the windows. You watched them bemusedly, not accustomed to children very much and they almost reminded you humorously of puppies as they wandered about and began to chase each other, a game of tag it looked to be with Douglas tapping his little brother on the back and then racing off to the other side of the room with a laugh.

"Be careful," you called out as Duncan bolted after him, bumping into the furniture along the way. It took a few minutes for you to relax and adjust to their energy, and while they were busy tagging each other back and forth, you went to retrieve the papers and books from the kitchen to continue studying, but unfortunately your headache was coming back stronger with fatigue and you really had to use the bathroom, but worried if you left them unsupervised, would they get into mischief or accidentally ruin anything? Your head kept throbbing and so you leaned back to rest your eyes just for a moment... Until a shattering crush made you gasp and you saw a guilty faced Duncan standing at the foot of a smashed vase on the floor. His older brother quickly apologized and sat down to pick at the pieces, but you rushed to take over so he wouldn't hurt his hands on the sharp shards of pottery, telling both of them to go sit down now. They obeyed, clamoring up onto a chair and swinging their legs, pouting.

"Alright you two, this is your first warning. If you break something else, I'll have to tell your mother about it," you warned, but they only gave you doe eyed innocence that made you feel a little better. You plowed through for a couple hours, taking one bathroom break and then helping Duncan with his own potty break before there was a noise at the front door at four-thirty. The boys perked up and ran to it, presumably thinking it to be their mother even though she wasn't supposed to be back until six. You heard Robert's surprised voice and entered the hall just in time to see little Duncan run straight into his legs, bouncing off and appearing confused as he staggered backwards.

"Daddy?" he asked, craning his neck upward and face falling when he saw a different man.

"Oh dear, I certainly hope not," Robert chuckled with wide eyes as he gently maneuvered around the little boy and you walked to meet him with a smirk.

"Daddy, hmm?"

He nearly flushed and glanced away as you looked down, allowing Duncan and Douglas to go play outside in the yard for awhile.

"Just stay on the grass and by the window where I can see you both," you instructed firmly and Douglas nodded, taking Duncan's hand and dashing out the open door as you looked back to Robert, still smiling.

"I kind of like the sound of 'Daddy' for you."

His eyebrows twitched in perplexion and he held up a finger, speaking with uncertainty.

"I thought we agreed to hold off on raising any children - of our own that is - until later? Or have you changed tunes already?"

You reached for his tie, giving it a teasing tug and cocking your head, playing up to his confusion.

"That's not what I meant, darling. I think you do something to me when referred to as that... Don't you think daddy has a nice ring to it when spoken in my voice, though?"

He gave you a strange look, but smiled amicably.

"I, well, I suppose it's... interesting. You continue to surprise me and nourish my expanding knowledge of various feminine desires, so I thank you for that, my love." He walked away towards the living room and you trailed behind, unsure of quite what to think of that response.

"How long have they been here, the children?" Robert asked while setting his briefcase down to the floor and you causally glanced at your wristwatch.

"About a couple hours, Mrs. Thompson dropped them off at after two o'clock."

"Well, you must have your hands full," he remarked.

"It's been easy," you half lied, knowing that broken vase was very minor loss but you weren't completely sure of what you were doing, not being an expert babysitter, and you still had to make a somewhat kid friendly dinner.

He just nodded, walking over to the large window panes and staring out at the yard, where the boys were chasing each other around a pine tree and then Douglas crouched down, pretending to shoot at his brother with a little finger gun and Duncan copied him, dodging invisible bullets. You joined Robert's side and observed unsmiling as you considered how males have such an inherent tendency towards violence, even during mock play. It spoke volumes about the tragic times you were living in and how it all was filtered down to children.

"I'm sick of all the fighting, Robert," you commented sadly and he made no expression.

"We live in a volatile planet," he replied flatly and you pursed your lips, turning away.

"That doesn't mean I have to embrace it."

"You don't; it just takes you instead, a pacifist as prisoner."

"I'm about to start dinner, would you like to help for once?" you changed the subject with a snap and he clenched his jaw, following you to the kitchen where you fumbled with pots and pans, gathering ingredients for a simple chicken with mashed potatoes and side vegetables dinner. Robert pulled out the cans of peas and carrots from the cupboard and took his time with the can opener, muttering under his breath about explosive versus implosive and you side eyed him, asking him if everything was alright.

"Yes, fine. Only conversing with myself," he answered with a thin grin and you shrugged, beginning to cook and deciding to leave out ample amounts of spices on the chicken because of the children's likely tender taste buds.

The boys came in a few minutes later and you noticed dirt and dust all over Duncan's front and Douglas had filthy hands as well.

"How did you two get so dirty? I told you to stay on the grass," you exclaimed exasperatedly and they ignored this, distracted by the dinner preparation and you had to shoo them away from the stove.

"Can we have porridge?" Douglas asked hopefully and you stared, amazed at how children's thought processes work.

"No, that's for breakfast only. It's dinnertime."

"Cereal?" Duncan added hopefully, licking his upper lip and you shook your head, looking to Robert who wasn't paying much attention and fixated on spooning out the canned vegetables into a saucepan.

"Mac 'n cheese!" Duncan suddenly shouted, beginning to hop up and down while his brother added to this impromptu guessing game.

"Hotdogs? Momma makes us hotdogs, they're my favorite!" he exclaimed as you walked over and took their small arms, marching them out to the bathroom to clean up. You can't do much about Duncan's soiled shirt other than a wipe down, for there were no clothes in the house that would remotely fit him and you hoped his mother won't be upset.

When you came back to check on the cooking and having sent the boys back to the living room with a stack of blank papers to draw on with pens from Robert's study, you smell smoke - and not the usual odor from cigarettes. The pan of chicken is burning and Robert is nowhere in sight.

"Dammit!" you cried, furious at him for carelessly and bizarrely abandoning the hot stove, and you rushed to pour a cup of water on the pan, creating a loud hiss and puff of smoke and vapor. The chicken was too blackened for consumption, so you tossed it out bitterly before going to mash up the potatoes. You felt a tug on your skirt and you glanced down, seeing Douglas looking up at you, his tiny chubby hand clutching the hem of your skirt.

"I need to go potty," he declared, hopping from foot to foot and you sighed in frustration, taking his hand and leading him down the hall once again to the bathroom and making sure he could go by himself before returning back to the kitchen, where now the vegetables were becoming overcooked mush.

"Fuck," you muttered, hurriedly removing them and dumping forkfuls onto plates. You jumped at the sound of Robert behind you and you glared at him as he looked visibly distracted.

"Thanks for nothing! We almost had a kitchen fire because you went off to who-knows-where while I was cleaning the boys up in the bathroom," you chastised and he closed his eyes briefly, stressed and guilty.

"I'm sorry, I had to run through a calculation and I thought it would be fine to leave it for a minute as long as you were coming back," he explained and you scoffed, thinking that as no excuse.

"You should know better than to leave a stove unattended, even for a few moments. And you know, this is absurd. When are they coming to finish the kitchen? If we're going to host, we'll need a bigger space."

"Don't worry, they'll be working on it and I'll fix this." He moved to take the saucepan from you and ladle out the rest of the soggy veggies. You took a seat at the table, plunging your sore head into your palms just as Douglas came wandering back in, whining.

"I'm hunnngry, Mrs. Oppen-hemmer..."

"Oppen-heimer," Robert corrected over his shoulder with a smile and you rubbed your face, standing up.

"It'll be just a minute, how about you please have a seat to wait, alright? And where is your brother at?"

"Potty," Douglas replied and you gave Robert a glance.

"Can you go fetch him and leave the food to me?"

He gave a curt nod and left the room while you took the last chicken breast left and placed it in the pan to sizzle. Thankfully it didn't take too long and you were grateful your husband was dealing with one child while the other waited, watching you curiously and kept asking if he could have ketchup, presumably for the chicken.

"Just about ready?" Robert's voice made you turn to see him with Duncan toddling in, hanging onto the cuff of Robert's sleeve.

"Did he wash his hands?" you asked and Robert nodded again in affirmative, helping the kid onto a chair. You set out their plates and once everyone was seated, the boys dug in clumsily (Duncan was definitely the messier one and you tried to help him with cutting up the chicken), but in all considered, they were fairly civilized; their mother taught them well for their age.

Robert meanwhile was quiet, neglecting a smoke as he actually ate most of the food on his plate instead and you wondered if you should have young guests over more often if they influenced him to make a better impression of an appetite.

"So how do you all like it? Good?" you asked them towards the end of the meal.

"Yummy," Duncan said while Douglas vigorously nodded with a closed stuffed mouthful and Robert smirked, gently nudging your ankle under the table with his foot.

"It's delicious as is anything you put your culinary talents to is."

"Even though it burned initially and these vegetables are a tad overdone?"

"Perhaps we should try barbeques then," he suggested, the tip of his shoe suggestively tickling your stockings and you twitched in your chair, avoiding his piercing gaze.

"I'm glad you all are satisfied."

When the boys finished, you took their plates to wash out at the sink and Robert told them to go to the living room to play. He came close, grazing your shoulder and feeling around your skirt, but you flinched away from his touch and he frowned, taken aback.

"Not now," you murmured and he backed away, retreating from the kitchen as you finished the dishes, joining the others in the main room a while later, and immediately noticing Duncan posing in front of the fireplace with Robert's tobacco pipe sticking out from his mouth. You quickly swiped it out from him while your husband only laughed as he was seated on a chair in front of the boy, clearly entertained.

"That's for grown-ups only, young man," you chided seriously (with a scoff at Robert for encouraging this) and he giggled sheepishly before getting distracted by his older brother tackling him from behind. They wrestled on the rug before getting up and Duncan attempted a handstand which ended with him falling back down with a flump to his bottom. Douglas giggled and you could only shake your head in amusement as you sat down on the sofa, Robert abandoning his chair to join you with a sigh, tucking an arm around your body as he watched the boys, displaying a pondering expression.

"I don't recall Frank and I ever being that rambunctiously cheerful at their size," he remarked softly.

"Well, from what I've heard, you were a rather unique child."

"I was sickly often; these boys are as healthy as horses."

"Well, besides that. I doubt those two will be giving a formal presentation to the New York Mineralogical Club on geology at age twelve, although you never know."

"True, but look at them; they have such modes of sensory perception and imaginations that are lost on us adults. What if they could solve the most complex problems with simplicity?"

You leaned your head tiredly onto his shoulder as he rubbed your forearm, the cramps returning and you had the thought that you wouldn't entirely mind skipping periods for pregnancy... but child rearing full time was daunting and you weren't ready for it even though the mere thought of such breeding such domesticity with Robert made you a bit weepy... or maybe it was just the period swinging your hormonal emotions about. But there is still a bright flash of reality; wasn't this how modern life, the human experience, was meant to be and what awaited you in the future if you had Robert's children?

You glanced at him, trying to read his contemplative expression. Was he thinking similar family thoughts and reflective of his own childhood, or was he only pondering his work, scientific equations, the war, or even... Jean Tatlock? You hoped not on the latter. He could be difficult to read most times, on a different wavelength from the rest of humanity and you considered yourself one of the few people in his life that felt only a minor alienation from his brilliance and knew to leave him there in his mind, for it was his true home until he orbited back to the present with everyone else.

Duncan climbed up onto the sofa, yawning widely and his brother joined a second later, scooting to your side and his chestnut orbs looked up at you with a hint of longing.

"I miss Momma," he whispered and you glanced at the clock on the wall that showed a quarter to six.

"She'll be here soon," you told him comfortingly and sure enough, not five minutes past six o'clock, there was a rap at the door. Robert stood up as you urged Douglas off the sofa and went to awkwardly scoop up his sleepy tuckered out little brother in your arms, carrying him to the door. Mrs. Thompson was relieved and so were you as you handed her youngest son off into her arms (he was heavier than he looked!) and Douglas hugged her legs happily. She thankfully didn't seem to notice or care that they weren't spotlessly clean.

"You two are so gracious, I can't thank you enough."

"No need to, we are glad to be of assistance," Robert told her sincerely and as he invited her and husband for the soonest party, you were reminded of something.

"Hold on, I have something for you before you go," you announced to her and dashed off to the kitchen to snatch up the neck of a wine bottle off the counter from your earlier attempts of purging. You presented it to her as a gift, causing her to light up in surprised elation.

"Oh, this is a delight!"

"Take it as a token of friendship," you told her as Douglas pulled impatiently at her pant leg.

"Wanna go home," he moaned and she thanked you and Robert again before slinging Duncan over her shoulder and clutching the wine in her free hand.

"Goodnight," you and Robert both called out, and you gave Douglas a little wave as they walked down the pathway and to the road. You slowly closed the door and Robert turned to you, brushing a strand of hair back towards your ear and you almost thought he might lean in for a kiss, but then he moved away, occupying himself with lighting a cigarette instead.

Later that night when you both are laying awake in bed, he seemed to sense something was up as you were curled with your back to him, riding the waves of aching pain shooting through your lower abdomen and back, waiting for the second painkiller pill to kick in while feeling mildly depressed. His hand warily made contact with your shoulder and you stirred, rolling over to face his concern.

"What is so wrong? Is it because of those boys? It was very considerate of you, but we don't have to have them over again for awhile."

"No, not at all, it's not their fault. I've been dealing with my cycle that began this morning and it's been rather... difficult on top of whatever is happening with our relationship."

Realization dawned on him and he adjusted the sheets, cocooning you and him closer together.

"I suppose tonight isn't an appropriate night for any activity then?" he asked knowingly and you shook your head, but moved into his body, fingers needlingly grasping his night shirt and he put a hand to your hip, stroking your butt and crotch soothingly.

"Cramps?" he asked in a hushed voice and you only nodded, closing your eyes.

"Let me help," he offered and you shifted to allow his hands to massage into your lower stomach and thighs, making you squirm at the kneading pressure.

"Just let Daddy take care of you, alright?" he whispered huskily into your hair and the blush inflamed your cheeks, making you twist your neck to meet his seductive eyes.

"You understand it?"

He only shrugged, nonchalant.

"It's unusual and I feel a bit perverted for using such a term for romantic purposes, but I suppose there is psychology behind it."

You stayed quiet, letting him do rhythmic circles into your skin and if you didn't feel so raw and achy, you'd be wholly aroused to high heaven.

"Were there any calls today?" you asked curiously in a casual tone, testing if he'd tense, but his fingers remained steady and relaxed as they gently rubbed into the folds of your skin.

"There won't be any for a while," he answered and now you were the one ending up tense.

"A while? What does that mean?"

Robert exhaled heavily, blowing his warm smoky breath to your forehead.

"I can't guarantee there will never be further word during the duration of our stay here. Two, three years can feel like eternity and she may still love me."

"Then she'll just have to move on. You need to get your head straight and devote your energies here to work, to life with me, not back in Berkeley."

"I intend to and I will, but Jean knew me like no other and she sees me as an incomparable love. She hasn't seen any other man since me."

"That's not what you should ever tell your wife," you muttered bitterly, hating that he was making this sound as if this was all her fault.

"Every affection I have for various women is different. You happen to be my life partner, an equal for the long journey, and I would never replace that. But Jean doesn't have what I do and one never forgets their first brightest flame."

"Must be nice to have a list of lovers to pull from. I don't care what she thinks, I care about what you feel. What is Jean to you alone?"

He didn't answer for a long while and finally you tilted your head to gaze at him with a frown.

"Answer me, Robert."

He licked his lips and spoke very softly, fondly.

"She was a possibility and then I found you and my world was altered. I knew I had to marry you instead and I did, didn't I?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No, never. There is only one Aphrodite in my universe and that is you, my love. No one else compares."

You bit your lip, refusing to tell him about the information you were given from his own secretary yesterday. Besides, you had no solid proof of that note anymore, just hearsay that he could deny, and as much as it pained you to shove this issue under the rug, you had to in order to protect your husband.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"For...?"

"All the bad timing and for being a mess through it, I suppose."

"You can't control it."

"I know, but..."

"But what?" he asked pressingly.

"What's happening to us? It's this place, I think there is just something about living here, it feels..." you trailed off, unable to dress up your emotions with words that would be tailored enough to fit the frustrated mood.

"Los álamos, the poplars," he stated abruptly and you blinked.

"Okay, what of that?"

"On the banks of the Acheron river of the Underworld, they were resurrected pillars of death-"

"You're citing Greek mythology again, aren't you?" you interrupted and he suppressed a chuckle.

"Yes, I am. Do you suppose we are living in our own version of the underworld here at Los Alamos? We have departed from the living in some fraction, rowing down such a proverbial river to Hades, outcast by the great Zeus..." he trailed off, sounding nearly emotional at his own metaphors.

"I'm not sure about that, but I do know only you could take such natural beauty and see it doomed."

Robert was silent for a while and then he sat up, tossing the sheets off and swinging his legs out of bed and you raised eyebrows, watching as he walked out of the room to return a moment later with a journal in his hands and climb back into bed. You scooted down to rest your head in between his legs, letting him place the journal in his lap as he flipped it open, ruffling pages and you had a feeling of what he was perusing.

"I've never heard your poems read aloud before," you murmured with your eyes half shut and he shifted self consciously, hesitant.

"I'm an inferior poet, it really isn't meant or fit for oratory sharing..." he protested.

"If it's legible, read it," you ordered and he sighed, beginning to read quietly and slowly, savoring every word.

"It... It was evening when we came to the river with a low moon over the desert that we had lost in the mountains, forgotten, what with the cold and the sweating and the ranges barring the sky..."

His voice gradually lulled you to a sleepy state and as he read the last line - "We didn't look back at the mountains" - you dozed off to muddle through dreams that were of strange visions of white pine trees extending into skeletal fingers scratching at the cobalt sky, shadows dancing down darkened corners in hallways as you ran, running towards the haunting sounds of children crying, but you never could get there to comfort them... and then you wondered if you were not aching to get to them, but far away. Glancing down, you saw a pair of shoes but no feet filling them, and you realized were as empty as a ghost; no body propelling anything forward as though there was no sense in motion at all. You opened your mouth to scream, but of course there was no existing voice in your throat...

You abruptly woke up with a jolt sometime in the witching hour of the early morning tinged in a sticky sweat and saw that Robert was out cold on his back, his journal having slipped from his clutch to lay facedown on his stomach and you very carefully picked it up to place it on the bedside table before exiting to the bathroom to change out your pad and fill a hot water bottle, and then you grabbed a thin blanket and sat down in a chair, straddling the warm rubber in between your thighs and wrapping the blanket around your chilled frame, watching the moonlight track ever so slowly across the wood floor as a hour gradually ticked by. You lit a cigarette and took a long drag, ruminating on Robert's poem (which now you barely remembered from the lack of consciousness) but that one last line lingered on your tongue.

"We didn't look back at the mountains."

It seemed symbolic to how you felt about the past with his ex-lovers and wishing he would learn to face forward in the saddle with you and focus on the horizon instead of taking trips back into old forays. Or maybe you had to be the one to move on from all the doubts and let this go because surely a marriage couldn't survive on such strings of sad suspicion, of done summits. Besides, he had more important mountains to conquer here, whether this location be just an expansive landscape in the American Southwest originally belonging to the Indians, or a version of the infamous "Underworld" that was imitating Robert's love of such old folklore.

Hell, this was only the beginning.

Thanks for reading, this one was interesting to write especially with adding the children in and they may come back later on. Next chapter though will definitely be more smut focused ❤️

[not-the-conversation-starter]

The Death Of A Website.

tl;dr click source to see an AU of my blog.

As many of you may not have heard, Cohost has gone read only. The website infamous for "Zero Discoverability" and its users "Not Being Funny." Servers will close down at the end of 2024, if not earlier, being backed up on the Internet Archive before that. Since their user counts were still low after 2 years (about half of all sign ups ever were from people evacuating twitter, which then didn't know how to use the site so most left almost immediately. Kind of hilarious) they didn't feel like anymore money bleeding OR the fact that a staff of only four people being on call 24/7 was worth it anymore.

However,

the people who DID use the site loved it. And they did some genuinely cool things on it, far cooler than anything I ever saw even in the glory days of Tumblr. You know, like Finn and Jake hi-fiving between 2 posts. Stuff like a playable maze, or a fully navigable 3d room you move around in with your mouse entirely within a post. They really did some cool stuff.

There were also a ton of really talented people, people like the composer Lena Raine(Celeste/Minecraft) who loved the site because you could just. Actually talk to people on it! Without an algorithm to boost their posts, the only people who saw it were genuinely looking for it.

Also some of them were just good posters, we did get Pikmin 18 billion and eleven from Cohost after all.

The point is, I think if anyone outside of Cohost actually knew what was being done on Cohost, it would of succeeded. There would of been enough active users for them to invest more. If I knew about all of this I would of been there way more!

But rather than just you blindly believing me, I decided to spend (almost) every hour I would of on Tumblr, on Cohost instead. Clicking that link, or the source, or the link on the source above in the tl;dr, will take you to my Cohost blog. At least while it's still read-only.

You should check it out. I reblogged a lot, but the first page or 2 (every 20 posts, I kept trying to stop but I got sentimental and reblogged more) is pretty much just people's last posts. I'd say give it 3 pages to see if you're interested or not in exploring more of what the website has to offer.

If you've ever wondered what people would post on a dying website,

If you ever wondered what some of the best posts people were making on Cohost that got shared again in its last dying moments were,

If you want some reference for what inside jokes would look like to an outsider,

If you're just bored and need something to scroll through,

if you ever wondered what I would of reblogged on that website if I remembered my password easily enough to log back in easily...

You could think of my blog as a small encapsulation of a small website. There's only 60 pages, including the ones from before the announcement from me just rarely using the site!

I reblogged all kinds of posts. Goodbyes, sarcastic hellos, mourning, long speeches about the spirit of Cohost set to sad music, nothing burgers, inside jokes I didn't understand, The New Garfield, posts I flat out didn't read past the title because they were too long and I just wanted to move on really there's a lot of posts to archive, CSS crimes, stuff I found funny, "Where to find me" and webrings and website posts for people I never knew, Love Honk, reviews for movies and games I never intend to play or watch, 88x31 buttons, music recommendations and history, entire games, signing up for RSS feeds, asks and answers related to other stuff I didn't share on accident, regular memes, Intern Secretary Eggbug, a post that's just an image hosted off-site so it'll update even after readonly, and so on.

(Nothing overtly NSFW. Tag search still works if you want that)

One that I, personally, am sad is gone. That I'm glad I got to see at least in its dying days. That I genuinely hope someone makes another attempt at creating.

[bianca-s-daily-reel-in]

It's really nice to see other people having AUS with same interests as me, I really thought this fandom/character was completely dead.

By the way, my quation: since when you decided to make this au and what inspired you?

☆Question for cc: How does cc feel about his fans?

Extra note: OMG, I love your artstyle😭😭 You inspire me, and I love the personalities you gave to the characters.

Thank u for reading this :D

Awww, thank you~ ! 💛 Not sure whether you're talking about the Cartoon Cat fandom or the BATIM fandom, but either way, I'm glad you like it here. And that you enjoy my art and interpretations, it's always nice to hear. 🤗

To answer your question, well, a good while ago (like maybe a decade), I was really into Bendy & The Ink Machine, because I really really love the concept of human creation gaining sentience and bleeding into reality, so naturally I created OCs for it, and that's how Bianca popped up. I didn't really have much going on for her within this fandom only, so for a while she was mainly an afterthought. Then I came across Trevor Henderson's art, and I was immediately charmed by his take on a twisted "toon" entity and the implications its existence meant for our reality. So naturally, I made the gap between BATIM and Cartoon Cat, and decided to have my silly little toon creature meet with this abomination against nature. I've always been a huge sucker for crossovers, so it kinda snowballed in my head from here, so I made its own thing. Now I have my silly little massive excuse for crossovers, and classic toon (and horror) appreciation.

And to answer your other question, well :

"{*groan* Oh boy... Well at first, I was flattered~, but wayyy too soon for my taste, y'people started disgusting me. Ah'm not yer """sugar daddy""" or whatever the hell y'freaks call it, nor am I yer cute lil' misunderstood thing~, that's Bianca's job.}"

"{Honestly if all of you freaks would take a step back and seriously consider what the hell y'all been lustin' over, it would probably do ya good. Or at least for MY earthly sake.}"

"{Well, at the VERY least it means easy prey for me. I guess.}"

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Ow, ouch, man, out of all the things you mentioned, I imagine if only one person is.. responsible, for all this, it would be interesting with a kind of Helmut Zemo (Movies) siche, where the person is just so deluded in their goal that consequences don't matter to them, they genuinely do not care, that they won't just die, but suffer for what they've done, it doesn't matter to them, because they got what they wanted. Maybe they come off as deranged (or not), but whatever their goal/mission is, gets the kids killed, it's not even a part of their plan, how the kids get involved/kidnapped is something to explore on, and it's not even necessarily world-ending either, it'd probably hurt more if their mission wasn't something catastrophic, something more mild like dismantling the military y'know casual friday stuff ;)

And If reader didn't know the yan adult was their parent, :D HEHE, maybe they wrote in a journal/computer log, telling about how they felt guilty for wanting that kind of affection, writing how whenever any of the adults did anything that made reader see them in parental manner, they felt shame because reader wasn't as close with them in ways maybe the other kids (possibly the older teen yans) were/are.

Dude, I'm really enjoying watching the way this is coming together! 🐑 Anon

I'm very glad you are enjoying the growth of the 🖤Dark AU! Im glad to hear from you again! Do you have any preferences for a few possible parent options for Reader? I'm up to hear a few of them, and explore it a bit. I'm really enjoying these too! If anyone has questions about this au or wants to explore it a bit, feel free to ask😊 (Just no requests for it at this time, okay?)

I was imagining what happened with the kids was kinda a blind hatred/not-care-about-the-consequences act. Whoever did it, one person or multiple, weren't seeing the four as kids or living beings. They didn't care that they were people, or what they'd do to them was illegal, sick, and inhumane. Their hatred of mutants blinded them, their thirst for power overwhelmed them, and the chance to study their remains... they weren't passing it up. Part of what they did was for "science". Part of it was out of hatred and fear. And the other part? To hurt the others.

And it would be the worst, and last, sin they ever made.

The second that the adults are within range of them, of the people who had done the wicked deed, those responsible realize something is... off. Different, this time. And it starts to click when their guards start dropping, bleeding out or burnt to ashes or frozen solid or impaled... And it only goes downhill from there. Their base falls under attack. They send soldiers, but nothing they do deters the older mutants... If anything, it enrages them. Anyone who faces them doesn't make it. They wind up as a fallen corpse, no matter who's hand brought them down. This time, they realize... there is no mercy. There is no grace. They won't be let free; they won't slip away. This isn't a rescue mission (the four are already dead, they showed them the footage they took), this is an act of vengeance...

And by the time the last of them are either fleeing or holed up in one of their labs, it's too late to do anything. Their guards: dead. Their soldiers: torn apart. Most of their staff: impaled, burnt, frozen, or bleeding and dying in some horrible way. Who is left is them... and they realize they have one card left to play. When the doors burst apart, revealing who they can only assume are the adults, covered in gore and smelling of rust and iron and death, they're soon attacked. A few of them are killed immediately, splattering the rest of them in bright crimson... Yet as the head scientist is about to meet their own deserved fate, they say what they hope is their saving grace: "We weren't the ones who ordered it!"

That pauses the world for a minute.

The grip on the tightens, almost choking them, until they're being asked in a tone that leaves no room for regret or mercy: "Who?"

And they spill what they can, all the while they feel their gazes drift over them, murderous and unyielding, sensing for lies and threats. They explain they were given orders to do it. A small branch of the government was interested in mutants powers and capabilities, as it were, and so they said to study the ones they chose. So they did. They only did standard procedures, nothing more than what happened with every asset-!

They're thrown across the room, head colliding with something metal, then there's one of the mutants looming over them. And what they see in their eyes... It promises a fate worse than death...

(And when the older mutants, adults and teens alike, find the government had something something to do with what happened... it leads to them taking control of the world... What happened to them all was bad, what happened to their kids/friends/siblings... It crossed a line that shouldn't have ever been crossed. And they're going to ensure it is never crossed again. That there is no need for lines in the sand, or vengeance, or suffering... They'll make it better. They will. If only... if only they didn't lose them. It's a heavy burden, a crushing weight, that drags them down and down and down, threatening to engulf them. But they manage, somewhat, enough to bring about a new peace, and to grow some more... Even though they're haunted by what they've seen, the videos they saw of what happened to them... They can't rest just yet. They miss them, and they love them, but... until they've done everything they can, or at least set up something to keep everyone in line, they can't stop...)

(And well, if Reader didn't know they were actually their kid... that would only add to the pain, the guilt, that they feel. This platonic yan adult didn't even know their own kid was there with them, wanting to be seen as their kid along with the other teens... And they would never know they were seen that way, or that they were their kid... It makes them feel sick and hollow, as though someone sucked the warmth and essence out of them, leaving nothing but a sorrowful, weeping shell behind...)

[doshiart]

Gallavich Lovefest 2024

I haven't read that many works yet, but I already have a small bookmarks collection. So I wanna share my love!

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

10. A one-shot by someone else that's less than a year old

7 Minutes in Heaven by @crossmydna

It may or may not be biased because it's literally based off on my fanart. BUT. I really enjoyed this one! It's funny, sensual and hot. And they're adorable high school teens who are exploring each other, locked in the cramped space. Thank you, Cross! <3

11. A multi-chapter by someone else that's at least 3 years old (and complete)

Like Real People Do by @gallavichy

I'm still in the process of reading, but I've read "Cooperative Gameplay" before, so I already want to praise the story in advance. I love texting au and this is amazingly written. A lot of emotions, worries, warmth and love. Thank you, Gray! <3 I noticed that there haven't been any new post updates for a long time and that's a little sad, but I hope you're doing well and feel happy!

12. A multi-chapter by someone else that's between 1 and 3 years old (and complete)

Teenage Dirtbag by @heymacy

That's what rocked me. First love. Love at first sight. Mutual pining reached all limits. I loved this music band au so much. The 90s make this story even more interesting. I am absolutely totally in love with this version of the Milkovich family. Ian and Mandy's friendship is briliant. It was like an awesome movie. Thank you, Macy! <3

13. A multi-chapter by someone else that's less than a year old (and complete)

Out of Nowhere by @suzy-queued

Gives me goosebumps. Love and betrayal? I'm gonna cry. This is a thrilling story, i love it so much and want to re-read it soon. And it's a story with a stunning covers. If for some reason you have not read this yet, then I just recommend reading it. GO READ IT. I have so many feeling. Thank you, Deena! <3 I'm looking forward to your next multi-chap story with great interest and intense curiosity. Your universes, worldbuilding and original characters are amazing!

30. Any fanwork (yours or someone else's) that's at least 7 years old

Is There Somewhere by andchaos

One of the very first fic I read in the fandom. I was very amazed by this story and I fell in love even more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

24. A Gallavich/fandom Tumblr blog

@callivich for this a huge impressive collection! I absolutely love every post.

@gallacrafts for creativity! I'm glad I discovered these inspiring monthly themes.

@gallavichthings for interesting events and community unity! This is truly wonderful.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

5. A fanart by someone else that’s at least 3 years old

I love the colors here.

6. A fanart by someone else that’s between 1 and 3 years old

This is so lovely and intimate.

7. A fanart by someone else that's less than a year old

I love the view of this scene from this side, it's very beautiful.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

...and lastly hehe

4. Something you're working on (either a fic that's still a WIP or plans for future works - feel free to add snippets/sketches/etc.)

cooking something for gallacrafts!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤactually no! the wall is lying. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ♡ love to all ♡

[lola-andheruniverse]

WIP Saturday - Caryl Fanfiction Rec

Oh, dear fellow caryler, what a happy week! I confess I cried a little bit yesterday because I'm just so fucking happy. I can't express how glad I am that Melissa decided to come back to us.

I trust her to do everything that is in her power to give Carol her happy ending. And we all know that it's Daryl. They are each other's home. They are each other's future and destiny. There's no feasible way for their story to end as anything else. So, yes, I'm hopeful, and after all this time?, hope feels damn good! Melissa/Carol returning also means our fandom is once again alive (we do have 9 lives) so what better day than WIP saturday to celebrate it, right?

Today I selected an incredible WIP written by one of my favorite caryl authors: @silversundown2. Dear Silver, you know I'm a fan of your work. This is my way of sending a little love to you, sharing a little of my hopeful vibes, and getting new people to read your WIP. I hope one day these versions of Carol and Daryl get their happy ending too.

The Forgotten, written by Silver, is posted on 9Lives and AO3.

Summary: All that matters to Daryl is securing his next bottle of insulin, at least until he finds a woman in the middle of the road covered in dirt and bleeding a river. Taking her to the hospital is just being decent but she ain't his problem and helping her unravel the truth of what happened isn't either.

Rating: E / Explicit

Chapters: 20 of ?

Word count: 85499

Published: December 06, 2022 - WIP

Silver is the kind of fanfic writer that can imagine and write the most amazing and unusual AUs (she even sent our beloveds to outer space once on Adrift) while staying true to canon characterization. every. single. time. The Forgotten is no exception to this rule. If you're not following this WIP, I honestly encourage you. Daryl and Carol deal with very real-life issues, some of them we're used to read on caryl fics (domestic violence), others not so much (US health care system) which makes this story refreshing and interesting. And you can trust Silver to deliver hurt/comfort and sweet romance as no one else.

Please, give The Forgotten a try. Leave a review while you're at it to feed our author's muse. Nothing is better than feedback to keep a fandom going.

And, don't forget, tomorrow it's your turn to rec a fic you love! Send me an ask with your recs and I'll be sure to post them. I'm counting on you to keep the positivity and joy flowing! Melissa is back! Carol is back! Caryl is coming! CARYL ON!

[owl-with-a-pen]

so I read your take on Jesse's pitch with evil Brainy replacing our Brainy and seeming to kill Nia (loved the fic, by the way) and now I'm wondering, would Winn still come back to the 21st century in this universe? Would evil Brainy work with the alternate Winn, separately from Lex? Also, how would the evil Brainy interact with Kara and Alex? What do you think his relationships with the rest of the super-friends were on his Earth? (sorry this is a lot of questions, this AU is so interesting)

First of all, thank you, I'm glad you liked the fic! 😁

This is a real difficult one, because when I imagine this canon-divergence, it pretty much means that I'm deleting every subsequent episode in the season after the Bottle Episode, so I didn't really think about the potential of Winn meeting the evil Brainy.

~*~UNTIL NOW~*~

Considering how those episodes played out in canon and how everyone was carrying the expectation that Brainy would be different anyway because of the inhibitors, it would be very easy for the evil!Brainy to slip into prime!Brainy's role in a similar fashion. The dilemma here, of course, is that the main thing that drives this divergent universe forward is that Nia has just been killed and so the story from that point onward revolves around that.

It would be kind of cool though if Winn did still travel back to the present just after Nia's murder and became involved in the investigation to figure out who did it. We know in the main universe he figures out Brainy's hiding something when he sees him react to Nia putting herself in danger and so I wonder if it would be similar but also sorta reversed here. Winn notices that Brainy isn't acting the way he'd expect from someone who just lost the love of his life. Maybe the others don't want to touch upon it because they think that it has something to do with his inhibitors being so freshly removed, but Winn sees through all that. Maybe evil!Brainy tries to break into Winn's ship to steal something that might help free his planet and that leads to him being busted and ultimately stopped for good. If that was case, I like to think Winn would be the one to interrogate the evil!Brainy to figure out where Brainy is and then, realising Brainy never made it out of the Fortress, he notifies Alex, J'onn and Kara immediately.

I've played around with this evil variant of Brainy before in my fics, usually to give him some form of redemption. That's because my headcanon for him - and continues to be in this canon divergent universe - is that he is likely the closest match to the prime!Brainy out of all the variants that we meet. What I mean by this is that the evil!Brainy has only recently removed his inhibitors as well.

There's this insanely unhinged quality to the evil!Brainy that I really like and it's all centred in his inability to control his own emotional range. Imagine being in a position where you remove these things from your forehead that have been limiting your emotional and intellectual capacity since you were a child - you're incredibly emotionally vulnerable, the weight of every little thing makes you want to laugh or cry or scream and then... Crisis happens. In the blink of an eye, your whole world is gone. All yours friend, your family. You'd do anything to get them back and that's what evil!Brainy does. He doesn't see killing as a morally wrong thing because he's so overwrought with emotion that he only cares about what he can do to feel good again. He becomes so warped and twisted by this that he doesn't even stop to think how the people in his bottled world might react to everything he's done.

I tried to throw in that emotional weight he was carrying by the way he teared up when he killed Nia and how he tries to process what he's done while she's bleeding out in front of him. It's almost like the aligned version of Brainy from the dark!universe, the one who couldn't quite match his feelings to his actions. Evil!Brainy is out of synch in a similar way, but he's also entirely capable of experiencing the full capacity of his emotions with no filter, only release.

I think Alex would be very cold to this evil!Brainy and she wouldn't in any way want to affiliate herself with him or try to see things from his perspective. In her eyes, he hurt her Brainy, he killed Nia. There's no coming back from that. And Kara... I think that a part of her would feel sorry for him. Even though she wishes she didn't, she can't help it, because a part of this Brainy is far too similar to their Brainy, and she doesn't even know how right she is about that yet.

Think about it, the evil!Brainy has killed multiple versions of himself before, so why would he keep prime!Brainy alive? Maybe because he wants him to feel the exact same level of suffering that he did when he lost his family, his world. Because Nia is Brainy's world. In the comics, when Brainy loses Nura he goes to a very dark place to try and save her and I really want to play with that in this canon divergent universe. How close is prime!Brainy, really, to the evil!Brainy, what lengths would he go to to bring Nia back? I think, ultimately, that's what the evil!Brainy was hoping for. To make him just as bad or even worse to justify his own decisions.

But Nia isn't completely gone, so his plan doesn't exactly work out. Nia will be visible to Brainy - only to Brainy - which might make everyone else incredibly worried that he's losing his mind or, worse, travelling dangerously close to his evil!counterpart's mindset, but so long as Brainy can see and interact with Nia, all hope isn't lost. Even if it's hanging by just a thread.

(Oh boy this went off on a tangent, I hope it answered some of your questions.. and maybe some others you didn't ask for too 😅)

[zepskies]

@writeroutoftime Hello, lovely!!

I'm very, very glad you enjoyed this chapter so much! I think it was the longest one of the series. 🤣 And I'm so glad to hear you were on the edge of your seat. I did my best to bring the tension and suspense!

I really like you’ve handled including Jo in this story and her feelings for Dean. Sometimes it seems like people are so quick to bash her for that but I appreciate how you’ve written her character and everyone’s reactions to her feelings.

Thank you for shouting this out, because I'm not one to bash a female character simply for being a potential Dean love interest that didn't work out. Even when she was on the show, I didn't support the fan hate that went her way.

Here in this AU I wanted to give her respect, but still try to write her feelings (and Dean and the reader's response to it) as realistically as possible. For example, the reader doesn't blame Jo for having feelings for her boyfriend, but it does threaten her a bit, considering everything else she and Dean have going on. 😅

And for his part, Dean doesn't hate Jo. He cares for her a lot, actually. But that love has become more brotherly than romantic.

The fire scene was super intense and I was so scared there was going to be another death so soon, but thankfully all is well! Also, everything with Azazel is finally bleeding over! I love the angst the angst so much and protective Dean is just 🥰 especially when he stood up to John there too!

Yeah I didn't want to create that much drama so soon, with everything else going on lol. The fire accomplished 2 things: Dean and Gordon coming to an understanding about Dean's leadership, and foreshadowing the incendiary device/Azazel at work.

I'm glad to hear that scene gripped you! And that you enjoyed Dean's protective side coming out again, even against John pushing his boundaries.

And man, I know we all do but I hate Nick so much! The entire time while reading I’ve just been thinking of this quote from The Mummy and I can’t wait to see Nick get what’s coming to him!

Nick is literal scum of the earth, and he'll eventually get his comeuppance!!

But omgggg I LOVE The Mummy!!! Perfect gif choice, friend! 😂👌🏽

The more I think about it, Dean and the reader give off major Rick and Evie vibes, especially in this chapter... 💗💗💗

Smoke Eater - Part 14

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Welcome back! Get ready for some more detective work, a pinch of Jo drama, another fire, and the reader finally meets John Winchester...

🔥Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, fire hazards, threats, and hurt/comfort.

Part 14: “Message in a Bottle”

A week before Christmas, John Winchester left his house for work before the sun had even risen in the sky. It was still dim when he stepped out onto his porch, which is why he didn’t see it at first.

He heard the clink when his boot kicked at something metallic.

He glanced down and found a small badge lying on the ground. He bent to pick it up, and on further inspection, it was a fire department’s badge. A replica, probably, because it had Dean’s number on it: 20579.

The badge was also splattered with blood.

Later at his office, John handed it over to his partner for his inspection.

“It’s actually paint,” John said. “Forensics looked it over. No prints, of course.”

“That’s a shame,” Cas said. His tone was mild, but his face was as grave as John’s as he considered the crimson-stained badge. They stood together in the bullpen of the 84th Precinct.

“And I got this little present a few days ago,” John admitted quietly. He grabbed a folder off his desk and showed Cas its contents: a picture of Sam leaving the courthouse while talking on his cell, climbing into his car. Someone was watching his sons.

“I already have a police detail on him,” John said, heaving a sigh. “I requested approval for Dean’s this morning.”

Cas’s frown was deepening, along with his furrowed brows. “We may need to ask for backup on this.” 

John shook his head. “Rufus won’t give it to us.”

Their esteemed Lieutenant thought John was on a vendetta with a ghost, stirring up a conflict of his own making. He only approved a temporary police detail for Sam, with the condition that John stopped what he was doing, let the Fire Department handle the serial arsonist, and let this blow over.   

But Rufus should’ve known better than that by now. This was personal, and John wouldn’t tolerate these yellow-bellied threats to his family.

“Azazel’s applying pressure, hitting your weak spots,” Cas said, perhaps pointing out the obvious.

“So let’s hit him back, goddamn it,” John growled. He threw down the folder back onto his desk.

“How?” Cas asked. “We still don’t know who Azazel is.”

The other man thought hard, rubbing a hand over his mouth, and feeling the overgrown stubble. He didn’t remember the last time he’d shaved.

“How’s your progress on questioning Savage & Co.?” he asked.

“Stalled. Nick Savage has lawyered up,” said Cas.

His face slackened from frustration to realization. He didn’t seem happy about his next idea, but it looked like he had one.

“Though now that I think of it, we may be able to apply some pressure of our own,” he said.

John raised a brow and crossed his arms. “How’s that?”

“Dean’s girlfriend works there, if you remember,” Cas said. “Something happened this past weekend at her company Christmas party.”

John nodded, despite his frown. He was set to meet you in a week, but it looked like they might need to question you before then. What a pleasant first meeting that was going to be.

But if you had anything on Savage, on the company, or even better, if you were willing to wear a wire, that could be the break they needed to get some headway on this case. They could squeeze Savage for any information he might have on Azazel—like his real identity.

“Tell me,” John said.

You returned to work on Monday with steel in your veins (and a taser in your purse).

You had about an hour of peace in your office, catching up on your emails and calls. Then there was a knock on your door before it pushed open without your consent.

Damn it, should’ve locked it. Your lips pursed when Nick Savage came in.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said firmly. Already you were opening a drawer in your desk, reaching into your purse.

“It’s my goddamn office,” Nick replied lazily. But he crossed his arms and stopped just behind the spare chair that sat in front of your desk. It gave you a good few feet of distance.

You stared back at the man with hidden satisfaction through your disdain. It seemed Dean’s threats got to him.

“Just thought I’d let you know that Josh’s been promoted to Senior Sales Manager,” Nick said. He checked his watch absently.

Your teeth clicked in irritation, but you let it pass. He was just trying to get a rise out of you, and you no longer gave a fuck about this company anyway. What you told Dean before was the truth: you were now here just to collect a paycheck, until you could find a new job.

“Good. He’s been working hard, kissing your ass,” you said with a fake smile. “Now if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work to do.”

Nick made the mistake of taking a half-step forward. Your hand subtly clenched on the weapon in your purse, but you tried your best to seem relaxed. In control of yourself. This was your office that you’d occupied for three years.

This was your space, and this man didn’t control you.

“Take one step forward, and I will quit today,” you threatened. And then you bluffed.

“I’ll call Mr. Greenway,” you said. “In fact, he offered me a job last month. Then I’ll make a few more calls, and I’ll take all of my accounts with me. I’ll kill your fucking sales team and leave Josh to continue sucking your lackluster tequila dick.”

Nick stared back at you with thinly veiled shock. You’d always been “no nonsense,” but you’d never spoken to him like that before. He smirked.

This was why he liked you. And hated you.

“All right,” Nick said. He didn’t come any closer, but he did rest his hands on the back of the chair. “How about I buy out your friend Greenway. His whole damn company. And then I’ll blacklist you with every other company that calls for a reference. Even the ones that don’t call.”

Your eyes widened incredulously. He had the gall to wink at you, boiling your blood.

“I’ll fucking sue you,” you said, hating the slight tremor in your voice.

Nick rolled his eyes. “This again? Please.”

You couldn’t help it. Your temper snapped, and you pushed away from your desk to stand up. You gripped the edge of it to steady yourself. You quirked a humorless smile.

“As it happens, I know a damn good lawyer,” you countered. “He puts murderers in jail every day. I doubt he’d struggle too much with a corporate asshole. And I’ll remind you, Dean’s father is a police officer. I’m sure he’d like nothing better than to lock you up after I report you for what you did. And I will.”

Nick scoffed at that, his eyes narrowing.

“If you take it there, I’ll have every resource at my disposal to make your life a living hell. I’ll drag this out for years. Until you’ve got nothing but your boyfriend’s charity to keep you from living in a fucking box.”

You were seething, trying to stay in control. He knew it too, and he smirked at you. He pushed away from the chair and started to leave.

But then, he tossed you a smug look over his shoulder.

“Just remember,” he said. “You could’ve just spread those legs for me.”

It took everything you had within you not to hurl a stainless steel stapler at the back of his retreating head.

“A double please, Ellen. Dry, lots of olives,” you requested.

After a ridiculously long day at work, you were now trying to let go of your frustrations at the Roadhouse, while you still had the money to drink. You rubbed through the ache in your temples.

“Long day, hun?” Ellen asked you. Her eyes were sympathetic as she made you the martini you ordered. You gave her an attempt at a smile.

“Long life,” you muttered.

“Hmm. Asshole boss?” she surmised.

You met her gaze with a note of suspicion. “Did Dean tell you…”

You knew he’d told his brother about what happened at the Christmas party. And you had a feeling he’d told Cas as well, to try and see what you could do from a law enforcement standpoint. The first step was filing a report. Now you knew, however, that you couldn’t. Not if you wanted your life to remain in one piece.

“Nothing, hun,” Ellen shook her head. “You’ve just got that look. I reckon every woman in the world has worn that face. Usually because of a man.”

You sighed and chuckled at the same time. It loosened some of the tightness in your shoulders.

“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.

“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”

You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.

“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.

“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”

Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?

You were soon distracted though, giving your boyfriend a smile to try and cover up how exhausted you were, in every sense of the word. He greeted you with a warm hand along your lower back. He dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“Waiting long?” he asked.

“No, just a few minutes,” you shook your head. You laid a hand on his thigh when he took a seat next to you at the bar. “How was your shift?”

This week he was on three 12-hour shifts instead of his usual 24-hour shifts, which meant you got more of him in the evening. 

“Fine. Just a couple of accidents to clear off the road, nothing major,” he replied. He ordered a beer from Ellen and gave Jo a smile. He was surprised to see mother and daughter working civilly together under one roof, after the scene he saw last week.

“How’s the studying going?” he asked Jo, once Ellen was out of earshot to serve further down the line. He turned to you and filled you in. “Jo’s gearin’ up to hit the Police Academy.”

“Oh wow, that’s great!” you remarked.

Jo glanced over at her mom, but then she smiled, looking back at you and Dean. She focused on him.

“The test is in a few weeks,” she said. “I think I’m ready, but I don’t know…”

“You’ll be fine,” Dean said, with easy conviction. “You’re stubborn enough to know it’s what you want. So I got no doubts about you.”

Jo’s smile was warm, with a hint of shy and gratefulness. You smiled at Jo encouragingly, but inside, you had a familiar unease churning inside your gut.

Dean then turned to you with expectant brows. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, curling it behind your ear.

“And how was your day?” he asked. His tone was quieter, laced with double meaning.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jo moving on to another waiting customer with a small sigh.

You met Dean’s gaze and you nodded. “It was fine.”

His brows rose a touch higher. “Very convincing. You took the taser with you, right?”

You sighed and had to smile a little. His concern warmed you, made you feel protected, even though you’d had to do that part yourself today. You soothed a hand over his chest, between the open panels of his plaid shirt.

“Yes, I did. I’m okay, baby. We’re at a standstill,” you said. And you reminded him, “I can handle myself, you know.”

Dean nodded, sighing through his nose. His hand rubbed up and down your back, whether to comfort you or himself, you didn’t know. Your fingers curled into his shirt, and you smiled up at him, just before you tugged him down for a kiss.

It was slow and sweet, until you became a bit more than sweet, grazing his bottom lip with your teeth. His hand came up to cup the back of your head as he accepted the warmth of your kiss.

You knew that you couldn’t tell Dean what happened this morning in your office. He’d likely go for the Halligan in his trunk and beat Nick Savage within an inch of his life.

While the idea appealed to you for several reasons, you didn’t want to be the reason Dean lost his badge, or ended up in jail.

So over a couple of drinks, you distracted him by having a healthy debate over what you two were going to have for dinner later: sushi or pizza.

You ultimately won with sushi. (Or maybe he let you win. Either way, you were getting salmon rolls tonight.)

Still, you had that uneasy feeling when you and Dean left the bar. You wondered how the hell it had taken you this long to notice the starry look of longing in Jo’s eyes.

You fell into step with Dean as you two headed for the sushi restaurant down the street. It was already dark out, but even on a Tuesday night, the streets and sidewalks of downtown were busy.

“Can I ask you something…potentially uncomfy?” you said.

Dean’s head turned to you, with a raised brow.

“Uncomfy?”

You let out a breath, and you could see it on the December chill in the air. Your hands were tucked into your pockets, and so were Dean’s in his.

“Did you and Jo ever have a thing?” you asked.

Dean blinked, but then his lips pressed together. “What makes you say that?”

You sent him a suspicious look. You’ve known him long enough to know when he’s hedging.

“Just please, answer the question,” you said.

He blew out a breath. After a moment, he nodded.

“Yeah, for a few weeks,” he admitted.

You sighed. That sure explained a hell of a lot. And really, with his track record, you couldn’t be surprised.

“You dated her, or you hooked up with her?” you clarified. Dean shot you a look.

“Dated,” he said, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

Your brows furrowed. “When?”

He’d told you that he’d been in one relationship before, briefly…

“About a few months before I met you,” he said at last. But he saw the incredulous, almost upset look on your face. “Obviously it didn’t work out.” 

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?” you asked. Your hands slipped out of your pockets to gesture at him. “How did it end?”

The man sighed, looking up at the sky.

“Come on, Dean,” you prodded.

“All right,” he placated with a hand. “It didn’t end great, put it that way.”

You couldn’t help a frustrated huff. You crossed your arms and kept walking beside him down the street, albeit in silence.

Dean glanced at you in slight exasperation. He was with you now. Why did it matter to you so much?

“She still has feelings for you,” you said, though you still weren’t looking at him.

“How do you figure?” he asked. But if he was honest, even he knew the truth.

“Because I could see her eyeing you like a honey glazed ham,” you snipped. At that, he let out an incredulous chuckle. 

“Are you jealous?” he teased.

You stopped walking and looked up at him, frowning. “Do you want me to be?”

Dean stopped as well. He sobered, realizing you weren’t in the mood for jokes. You’d been through a lot recently, and he knew then that you didn’t need this kind of stress on top of everything else. He drew closer and gently grasped your arms.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. Though he thought to himself, I’ll talk to Jo if I have to.

You sighed in frustration, but he soothed his hands up and down your arms. His touch plied you, along with his smile.

“Hey,” Dean said, dipping his chin so he could catch your eyes. “You should know how I feel about you by now.”

You sighed and nodded in agreement. He wasn’t satisfied.

“Okay,” he said, squeezing your arms and earning your eyes on him. It took him a moment, letting out a breath, but he was honest.

“I love you," he reminded. "And if that damn elevator hadn’t broke down on you, I’d still be missing something.”

…Damn it, you thought, even as a blushing smile grew across your face. Dean Winchester was too smooth for his own good.

But you also saw the sincerity in his eyes. You couldn’t help but be warmed by his words, down to your toes.

“There she is. All right,” he said with a grin. He nodded in satisfaction and gathered you into his arms. “My soft girl again.” 

Your smile deepened, but you still pinched his side, making him flinch and laugh. You held him back and looked up at his handsome face. He still looked amused and his eyes were warm. You leaned up on your toes for a kiss that lingered on wind-chilled lips.

“I love you,” you whispered back, against his lips.

His smile against yours was your answer.

Two hours and two salmon rolls later, Dean drove you home. You had taken an Uber to the Roadhouse, which reminded him that he needed to make another trip to Singer Salvage.

He’d been scoping out potential cars to fix up for you. He’d even recruited Bobby’s help to find something good, something with strong bones. Dean could do the rest.

Even after he watched you get inside your house safely, he let out a subtle breath before he peeled away. He wished you were coming home with him tonight. More often, he was feeling your absence when you weren’t in his bed. But it also reassured him, that he knew you were safe with him and Sam at their apartment.

He later found his brother eating leftover chicken parmesan at the kitchen counter.

“Why’re you eating standing up?” Dean asked, tossing his keys onto the counter. He reached into the fridge for a beer. “You look like Big Bird if he wore a suit.”

Sam sent him a dry look. “I don’t know. Force of habit.”

He barely had time in his day for an uninterrupted coffee, let alone a meal. When Dean wasn’t here, Sam fell back onto his work habits. He took his plate and actually went to the table.

“You eat already?” he asked. Dean nodded and said he’d eaten with you.

“Oh yeah? How’s she doing?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed and sank down heavily onto the chair opposite his brother. He rubbed at his forehead.

“She’s okay, considering,” he replied. But he knew you hadn’t told him the whole story about how your day went at work. Whether you were trying to spare him, or protect him, or yourself, it still drove him up the wall. Knowing Nick Savage was still your boss, and he was there, an ever-present threat just a few floors above you in that building…

It made Dean’s skin crawl. It had his teeth grinding and coiled his spine tight with repressed rage. And worry.

He met his brother’s eyes. Sam had been watching him, hiding his wariness.

“What can we do about him?” Dean asked. He knew he didn’t have to explain who he was talking about.

Sam started to shake his head, but Dean wouldn’t have it.

“I mean it, Sam. Because I almost…” His hand and forearm clenched and unclenched on the table. He could almost feel the way his arm had pressed into Nick’s throat, slowly but surely crushing his trachea. Just a couple of minutes more, and Dean could’ve done it. In that moment, he saw it so clearly.

It was the first time he’d ever wanted to take a man’s life.

“I know,” Sam said. His brows furrowed in sympathy. “But you did the right thing.”

Dean’s lips pursed as his hand once again fisted on the table.

“If I hadn’t been there,” he said. “If I had been just a few minutes off…”

These were the what ifs that kept plaguing his mind, ever since the party. Sometimes, it added to the catalogue of waking nightmares that wouldn’t let him sleep.

“And now she’s gotta go back there, every day, where that animal is just waiting for an opportunity,” Dean gritted out. Then his fist dropped more heavily onto the table, rattling Sam’s silverware.

Sam held the table steady and looked at his brother, calm but firm.

“You can’t touch Savage,” he said. “Don’t even go near him. Whatever you do, he’ll use it against you, and potentially against her. Unfortunately, she’s got the best plan right now.”

Dean looked up at him with angry eyes.

“Wait him out,” Sam said, “until he makes a mistake he can’t easily cover up. In the meantime, she’ll find a new job and get the hell out of there.”

Dean forced a sharp breath through his nose. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fist more calmly on the table.

“I don’t have to like it,” he said.

Sam nodded in agreement. “No, you don’t.”

The fire was wild. It was eating up the four-story apartment building in a full blaze. The Truck 79 team was geared up outside of it, with Chief Singer already calling out instructions along with Dean.

Benny and the Rescue Squad were already on the roof, rappelling down to get the ones trapped on the top floors out through the windows. Dean was on the ground. He had Gordon, Jack, and a few others behind him. Meg and Chuck were on standby, waiting for the firefighters to pull out any residents still trapped inside.

Dean had to wonder if he was walking into another arson, like the Richardson fire. Against his will, he thought of that day. He thought about everything his father had told him about that arson, about Azazel and his mom’s death. He thought about you, working for a man who was potentially tied to Azazel.

“Winchester,” Gordon tapped him on the arm. “You good?”

Dean glanced over at him, then nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s rock and roll.”

When Dean was at work, he couldn’t let the outside world into his mind. All he could let himself focus on was the scene ahead after he put his mask on.

Inside the first floor of the building was like entering a living furnace. It was hot as shit, and layers of smoke choked the room. The mask was the only reason Dean could see, let alone breathe.

He turned to Jack. “All right, take it room by room. Stay close. We don’t got a lot of time.”

Jack nodded his agreement, and Dean split his team. A few of the others took the first floor on his orders. Dean, Gordon, and Jack would take the old stairs to clear the second floor.

Fuck. This whole place is just wood and plaster, Dean thought, shaking his head. These old buildings were all the same. Easy to build, easy to knock down. And usually they weren’t up to code, often thanks to cheap property owners.

He got apartment 201 open with his Halligan. The shoebox studio was smokey as all hell, but it was clear of any tenants. Gordon moved on ahead quickly, but Dean’s brows furrowed as he listened to the unsteady creaking of the floorboards. He moved more carefully forward.

Until he felt the warmth under his boots, saw the orange glow underneath a thin patch of flooring.    

“Walker, wait!” Dean called, at the same time he held Jack back.

He reached out, just as the wood floor splintered and broke underneath Gordon. His eyes flashed wide just before he fell.

Dean dove for him. His Halligan clattered away, but he managed to grab onto the man’s sleeve before he disappeared. Gordon grabbed onto Dean’s arm and nearly pulled him down too. Luckily, he managed to grab onto the splintered edge with his other glove-covered hand. He gritted his teeth at the strain of the other man hanging off his shoulder, but he didn’t dare let go.

Jack grabbed Dean’s belt to keep him from sliding further down. It let him grab onto Gordon with both hands. The men panted for breath; Dean had a better vantage point to see that the middle of the ground floor below was engulfed in flames. The glow of it flared in the corner of Gordon’s eyes. He could feel the heat making both of them sweat.

The wood flooring under Dean creaked ominously, but before anyone could move, it broke further. He almost lost his grip on Gordon as his torso hung over the edge. He managed to get a new stronghold under the other man’s arm, and Jack did his best to keep Dean from falling by pinning his legs down. Jack was strong, but he was still a smaller man than Dean.  

“Jack, call for backup!” Dean gritted out. Jack nodded behind him and radioed in for help.

Gordon stared up at Dean with wide, but resigned eyes. “The floor’s gonna cave before you can pull me up.”

Dean stared down at him, even as lines of sweat poured down his forehead from within his mask. They both knew that if that happened, Dean would be pulled along for the ride down, maybe even Jack too. Dean gave a sharp shake of his head.

“Just hold on. Backup’s comin’,” he said. All his strength was going into keeping a firm grip on the man’s arm and jacket. He called to Jack over his shoulder. “Can you get next to me and grab him?”

To his credit, Jack tried. But the jagged edges of the floor around Dean were unsteady, creaking and groaning under Jack’s added weight, a bit too much.

“Stop, stop!” Dean shouted, halting Jack’s movements.

Gordon licked his dry lips and blinked sweat out of his eyes. “This might be the part where you let go, Winchester.”

Dean took exactly a beat to process his shock. Then he glared down at the man.

“Shut the hell up, Walker. You don’t let go, you hear me?” he barked. “Jack, grab the back of my jacket and my belt.”

Jack followed the order, and a combination of him pulling Dean up and Dean straining every muscle he had to heft up Gordon slowly, painfully, brought them back up and over the ledge.

Jack had an easier time then of helping Dean pull Gordon the rest of the way out of the hole.

And the rest of their Truck crew came to help them onto their feet, before the fire consumed the rest of the second floor.

Once Dean was out of the building, he took off his mask and breathed in cooler air on his face. He made a beeline for the fire truck. In the back was a cooler, and grabbed a bottle of water to dump over his overheated head and face while he caught his breath. Gordon and Jack were following suit, and the men stared and one another. All of their faces said the same thing.

We made it. We’re alive. That was almost fucked.

Gordon’s gaze met Dean’s, sobering further. For a moment, he looked like he was searching for words.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked eventually.

Dean nodded, rotating his right arm. He was going to feel that bitch tomorrow.

“Fine,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Gordon nodded. Another hesitation, followed by an honest gaze. “Thanks, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s face broke into a smile, wry but also genuine. “Yeah, thank me by layin’ off the burgers.”

He swatted the other man’s stomach and went for three more waters. He handed two of them to Jack and Gordon. One was smiling, while the other just smirked and shook his head.

“You callin’ me hefty?” Gordon remarked. “I’m averaging 6% body fat, man.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, right. What’re you, the Rock? That’s why you almost sunk.”

He dropped his fist into the air and made an exploding sound. Jack was wide-eyed, but Gordon just chuckled. They started making their way to the front of the truck to start packing up their gear. The Truck and Rescue teams had done what they could, and all the residents that made it out of the building were being seen to by the paramedics.

“I’d rather be weighed down by muscle than all them Little Debbie’s you’ve been putting away at the station,” Gordon shot back. “Cheap cake is not your friend.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “All right, that’s just uncalled for.”

“Dean,” Chief Singer called, beckoning him over with a hand. His free hand wore a glove as he held something steaming.

Dean nodded at his men and joined Bobby outside his department-issued SUV. Dean’s gaze focused on the bottle-shaped object in Bobby’s hand. There was a small digital box attached to the front, with wires wrapped around. The entire device was now blackened, but the smell of chemicals was unmistakable.

“Molotov cocktail?” Dean quipped, but his face was as grave as Bobby’s. The Chief nodded.

“Lafitte pulled this out of the fourth floor,” he said. “Looks like the same kind of incendiary device Arson found at the Richardson fire.” 

That night, you made dinner for Dean at your house. He was forced to explain what happened at the apartment building, and why he had his arm pinned to his side like a chicken wing. You made him sit down and relax, all while you tried to hide your worry and relief that he was mostly all right.

Later in the living room, you sat on your knees beside him on the couch and lifted the bag of ice from his shoulder. You peered at it in concern, gently rubbing your hand over the joint and surrounding muscle. Dean sighed through his nose as your gentle touch was both soothing and painful.

“Are you sure you should do another shift tomorrow?” you asked, replacing the ice. He shot you a glance.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Right,” you said dryly. “That’s why you can barely move this arm.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made his point by raising his right arm, slowly, but easily back down.

“I’ll be up and running by tomorrow. Just need a good night’s sleep.”

“Dean, are you sure? You seem to be in a lot of pain,” you asked.

He tried to hold in his annoyance. “I think I’d know if I’m fine.”

“You forget, I know all too well what downplaying looks like,” you countered, giving him a chiding look. Dean didn’t appreciate it. He didn’t need you to mother him.

“This is my job, all right,” he said.

You gave him a steady look. Your hand moved up his shoulder to rest along the back of his neck. Your fingers slipped into his hair.

“I know that. But I’m allowed to worry,” you said. Your brows furrowed. “Please don’t get upset at me for that.”

Dean let out a breath. He relaxed against the couch and met your gaze. He knew he had no right to ask you not to worry about him.

“Yeah, okay,” he said.

To you, he still seemed a bit annoyed. You nodded and continued to gently sift your fingers through his hair. You had to wonder if his resentment was coming from a different place.

“Are you still mad at me for going back to work?” you tested.

Dean breathed out deeper this time, but he didn’t answer.

Bingo, you thought with a frown.

“Dean—”

“All I want is for you to be safe,” he said. His voice was harder as his face tightened up. His hand gestured in frustration. “This whole thing…that fucking douchebag…it’s killing me. Fucking killing me. And you know that.”

Your eyes softened, and you unconsciously bit your lip.

“Ditto,” you tried to joke. It landed flat, because your boyfriend was deadly serious.

He looked away from you with pursed lips and a frustrated shake of his head. You sidled closer to him and tried to soothe, with a hand on his chest.

“Look, I’m trying to find a new job, but it takes time,” you said.

“You could quit. You could quit right now,” Dean replied hotly.

You sighed; you couldn’t believe you had to remind him about this. “I can’t, Dean. I have bills to pay, just like you do. You think I like this situation any more than you? I’m the one who’s had to deal with this for months!” 

“I know that!” Dean snapped back. “Or should I say, now I do.”

He pulled away from your touch and pushed off the couch, onto his feet. You looked up with your mouth agape as he left the room. You got up and followed after him.

“You’re leaving?” you asked in shock. You watched him grab his keys and his wallet from the kitchen counter.

“I’ve got a long shift tomorrow and I gotta sleep,” Dean said, rather gruffly.

You followed him all the way to the door, where you grabbed onto his wrist. He stopped in the doorway, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“Dean, please,” you implored. “Don’t go like this.”

After a beat, he seemed to soften. Just enough to lean over and press a brief kiss to the side of your head.

“I gotta go.”

He left you in the doorway with tears swimming in your eyes, and he pretended not to notice them.

When Dean woke up the next morning, his shoulder still ached, and he still felt guilty. He rubbed the offending join and tried to slowly roll the stiffness out of his arm. Fuck.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes next. They blearily took in the digital numbers on his alarm clock: 5:00 a.m.

He slid out of bed and got ready for work. He definitely wanted to check in with Arson about the device that likely started that fire, and he knew his dad would need to be brought in on it. It would give Dean a reason to press John for an update on his investigation.

By 6:00, he was finishing his coffee, about ready to head over to the station. He could hear the pipes running, meaning Sam was in the shower.

Dean was startled only slightly by his phone vibrating in his pocket. His brows furrowed, but he fished it out and found your name crossing the screen, along with a smiling picture of you. He sighed.

Part of him hesitated. If you were calling just to try and convince him to call out of work, he was going to get worked up again. And he’d rather not have anything disturb his first cup of coffee of the day.

Still, he answered. “Hey.”

“Dean, did you come into the house last night?” you asked.

He didn’t like the wary, almost scared tone of your voice.

“No.” His brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Look at the text I just sent you.”

He put you on speaker so he could check his messages. Sure enough, he found a picture from you. It was of a glass bottle-shaped object on your nightstand. There was a black box attached, but its digital screen was blank. Dean’s breath caught in his lungs as his eyes widened. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Dean, what is this thing?” you asked. Your voice was shakier, more worried. “It looks like a bomb. And it smells awful, like chemicals.”

“Don’t touch it,” he said quickly. “Get out of the house…better yet, wait for me at your neighbor’s place. I’m coming over right now.”

And I’m calling Dad.

Dean tried his best to calm you while the police and the Arson Department swept your entire house for devices, fingerprints, and any other evidence on who broke in.

You had a hand over your mouth by the front door as you watched them turn over cushions, move tables and shelves, ruck through cabinets. Your entire life turned inside out.

Dean’s hand rubbed up and down your back. You eventually had to look away and sigh. You pressed closer to his side, and he wrapped his good arm around your shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he said quietly, and kissed the top of your head. Inside, he was furious. Mostly at himself.

If anything had happened to you last night, after he left…he would’ve never forgiven himself.

So it was a welcome distraction when John and Cas’s police car finally pulled into the driveway. Dean led you outside, away from the chaos happening in your house.

“Hey, Dad,” he said, with a nod at Cas. Both men nodded back.

“Son,” John greeted, His brown eyes turned to you next. He offered you a hand. “Good to finally meet you, despite the circumstances.”

You blinked up at him and curled a stray strand of hair behind your ear, a bit nervously.

“Oh, it’s…it’s great to meet you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, sticking out your hand and shaking his.

A smile flickered across Dean’s lips. He realized then that this was the first time you were meeting his father. You were adorably nervous.

A reserved smile tugged at his father’s lips as well.

“John’s just fine.”

You smiled back, with a bit of a blush tinging your cheeks.

“Now, can you tell me what happened here?” John asked you, not unkindly.

Dean’s good humor faded away as he explained about the device left on your nightstand. He filled them in about the fire he’d responded to yesterday as well.

“What the hell is happening, Dad?” he demanded to know.

John let out a breath and nodded, swiping a hand through his dark hair.

“It’s another one of Azazel’s signatures,” he said, lowering his voice so only the four of them could hear. “It’s a message.”

“To who?” Dean asked.

“To me,” John said. “Warning me to back off the case…there’ve been other threats. I’ve finally got a police detail on Sam, and I just got approval for you. I’ll add her to the list.”

John glanced at you. Your eyes widened in confusion as you tried to hold in your fear.

“Who the hell is Azazel?” You turned to Dean. “Is this…does this have something to do with your mom’s killer?”

John’s brows shot up at his son. “You told her?”

“You’re over here talking about him too,” Dean retorted. He gathered you closer and met his father with steely eyes, to mask how his gut was churning with worry.

“You need to get this guy,” Dean said, almost through gritted teeth. “Get him now.”

John agreed with a nod.

Once again, you covered a trembling hand over your mouth. Dean squeezed your side a bit to earn your attention.

“I want you to come stay with me,” he said. His tone was boding no argument, not that you would. You nodded and fairly melted against him. Your head rested against his chest.

“Dean, this is insane,” you whispered.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know. I’m sorry…I’m so fucking sorry about this.”

You looked up at him, your brows furrowing. “It’s not your fault.”

Dean met your gaze, but he couldn’t quite believe you. He was the one who kept pushing his dad for answers, to let him in on this. This was his family’s bullshit, not yours. You didn’t deserve to get dragged into it too.

The spell between you two was broken by Cas, awkwardly clearing his throat.

“We do need to ask you some questions,” he said. “About Nick Savage.”

You frowned. You peeled yourself away from Dean enough to face the detectives.

“What does he have to do with this?” you asked.

“His company is linked to a money laundering scheme, which ultimately leads back to Azazel,” Cas explained. “But we’re having trouble getting through his wall of lawyers.”

You scoffed. “Not surprising.”

However, it did worry you that Nick was possibly doing business with a criminal. Not that that should surprise you either. 

“What do you want to know?” you asked.

“Well, first of all, would you be willing to file a police report,” Cas said, more gently, “regarding your assault at his home.”

Your eyes widened. Your mouth fell open slightly before you looked over at Dean. His face tightened, along with his hand on the curve of your waist.

“Why do you need me to do that?” you asked Cas.

“It’ll give us the leverage we need to dig deeper into his business,” John said. “Knock loose any shady dealings. We could get him to cough up what he knows about Azazel.”

You wanted to help, but at the same time, you were reluctant to mire yourself deeper in this. Dean saw your reservations, and he could guess why.

“Won’t that just paint a bigger target on her back?” he asked.

“We’re gonna protect her,” John promised. His eyes went from Dean, back to you. “But we need your help. This could be the break we need to get to Azazel. To find out who this bastard is.”

John could see your indecision. “All you need to do is fill out the report. Maybe get up in court to testify.”

You tightened up at that. “Testify?”

“If it gets that far,” John nodded.

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “That man can make my life hell without a serial killer’s help.”

You looked to Dean for support.

In the beginning, he had all but begged you to do what his father and Cas were asking. But now, this was just too much. He pressed you more securely to his side.

“Dean?” his father prodded.

“You heard her,” Dean said. “It’s her choice.”

You sighed and held onto the back of his shirt gratefully. The detectives shared a look, with John’s brows furrowing. He regarded you with a gruff, slightly strained look.

“Listen, don’t you want Savage in a cold hard cell?” he asked. “You could put him there.”

“Dad, she said no. Lay off,” Dean’s tone sharpened. Unfortunately, he knew how stubborn the man could be.

“Dean, I’m trying to nail this guy, but I’m missing pieces,” John said. “Right now, I can’t do it without her.”

“Well, figure it out,” Dean snapped.

John frowned in near disbelief. "Excuse me?"

“Look, I know where your priorities are, but mine is making sure she’s safe," said Dean. "If you can’t handle that, then we’ve got a problem!”

The strength of his retort took everyone by surprise, but no one more so than John. He hid it well behind a deepening frown.

He glanced between you and his son. You were looking up at Dean with unshed tears in your red-rimmed eyes, grateful, and holding on tight to his shirt. He still held you to him. His entire frame was tight and angry.

And John knew that he would react the same way, if he were Dean. He also knew then that he was pushing too hard.

So he sighed, and pulled out a card from his wallet. He handed it to you.

“I’m sure you’ve got Cas’s number already, but here’s mine,” said John. “Call me if you change your mind.”

“I’m sorry for invading,” you told Sam that night. He was helping you and Dean bring in your suitcases. You were pretty much moving into their apartment, indefinitely.

“You’re not,” Sam said, shaking his head. “We’re happy to have you here.”

You gave him a tired, thankful smile. “I appreciate that, thanks.”

“We’ll get to have an in-house chef,” Dean chimed in, earning more amused look from you.

“Need I remind you that I’m not an actual chef?” you said. You set down your smaller suitcase, full of shoes and toiletries, to grasp the front of his shirt. You leaned up on your toes and met him with a kiss. It was sweet, but it was also tender. His arms came around your lower back and pulled you flush against him.

He parted from you gently, afterwards pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a brief sigh through his nose.

“I’m sorry, about how I left last night,” he said.

You shook your head, despite the tears that wanted to burn in your eyes. You wanted to tell him, It’s fine. I’m fine.

But you couldn’t lie to him.

“You came back when I needed you,” you said instead. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, his hand resting along the back of your neck. It was familiar, and soothing.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted you to move in,” he admitted. You chuckled wryly.

“Really,” he said. “…I was thinking of asking you. But not ‘til, you know, down the line.”

You softened at that. You raised up on your toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then you circled your arms around his neck and hugged him close. He held you back just as tightly.

“Thank you for always being there for me,” you said. He couldn’t see your smile, but somehow, he knew it was there. But he could also hear you sniffle, and feel your body tremble with tears.

“You’re safe here,” Dean said softer into your ear. “Nothing’s getting to you, all right?”

 You nodded, pressing your face into his neck. He continued to say and do whatever he felt he had to in order to reassure you that night, and make you feel safe.

All the while, he was trying to reassure himself.

AN: *burrr* That tension, huh? What did you think of her finally finding out about Jo's lingering feelings, plus a bit of Dean's resentment, him and Gordon coming to an understanding, and the reader meeting John for the first time! 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Good news though. Next time, we'll take a huge break from all this drama and have a nice fluffy Christmas special. (Plus a healthy dose of spice. ❤️‍🔥)

Next Time:

You hadn’t undressed yet from your jeans and sweater, but you crawled across the bed to come up behind him and drop a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“How’s your slugging arm?” you asked.

Dean quirked a smile at you over his shoulder. “Just fine.”

“Dean,” you said. Your tone was gentle, but warning. No downplaying.

You pressed your lips against the side of his head and soothed your hand along his shoulder and down his arm. Still, he was resistant.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he said.

You hummed. “Okay. I guess you don’t need a massage then.”

He paused. His head tilted just so, once again turning to you over his shoulder. You spied the edge of his piqued interest, his grin.

“Well, if you’re offering…”

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

I can't stop thinking about your madame red au and the headcannons you wrote last. Can I ask for Joker and reader where she helps him during the dance and all and defends him behind his back when some ladies are shocked because ,,how dare a woman lead a man?!". And maybe Madame Red notices the reader and her behaviour towards Joker and the others and already ships them? Sorry it's so long. Headcannons or scenarios are fine. 😅😁

PLEASE DON’T BE SORRY, THIS IS ALL I EVER WANT IN LIFE AND I OWE U FOR REQUESTING IT

it got so hecking long omg I never plan for things to get this long but when I like something a lot it just kind of happens!!!

The fact that your new companion is missing an arm seems to bother you far less than it does him, at least in the context of trying to figure out how to position yourselves to dance.

“I just, ah ― oof, Lord ― I-I dunno if this is gonna work.” His face is about as red as his hair by now, and he just draws himself away from you. “I’m… I’m sorry. This pro’ly ain’t such a good idea, beauty. Why, uh, why don’t ye go dance wit’ someone else?”

Able to feel other people’s eyes on you both, you shamelessly step back toward him. “Because I want to dance with you. It’s not really that big a deal, is it? There has to be a way.”

He offers you a timid smile. “Be m’ guest, m’ lady.”

The sound of several other girls tittering behind their fans as they watch the man flounder is all the determination you need.

“So I shall!” You return his smile before analyzing the situation. After a moment, you make a move: you wrap your arm around his waist and draw him flush against you. This might be a good start… “Hm, this may work. If I keep my arm here, then I can support you. That way, we can hold hands and you don’t have to worry about losing your grip or anything, because I’ll be holding you.”

Another round of blush blooms over his cheeks. “T-this ain’t exac’ly proper, though, is it? I mean… Mum said th’ man’s s’posed ta be th’ one wit’ ‘is arm round the lady’s waist. Heh, treatin’ me like a lady, are ye? Makin’ a joke like ev’ryone else?”

You can’t help but to burst out laughing, though you take care not to be too loud. The two of you have enough attention on you already, and you get the sense that it’s not the good kind, so you don’t want to attract more. “What?? I wouldn’t make a joke of you. It’s just that we have to do things a bit differently, and we have to do whatever works. It doesn’t mean I’m treating you like a lady. If this is what works, then that should be the proper thing, shouldn’t it?”

“… Well…” His good arm scratches at the side of his cheek as he seems to think that over. It makes a lot of sense, as far as you’re concerned. The very definition of proper is that something is correct. If the way you normally dance doesn’t work when dancing with him, then clearly it isn’t proper. “I, ah, guess I never thought ‘f it that way b’fore. Good way ta put it. This is… alrigh’, then? Dancin’ like this? Ye don’t mind it?”

“Of course not. It’ll be kind of exciting to do things differently.” With your free hand, you take his, weaving your fingers into the spaces between his and noting how it just feels right. “I think this is song is meant to be waltzed to, so… one, two, three?” you tease.

When he chuckles, it’s a sound like golden honey. He has such a lovely voice, and a bright laugh to match even as he’s keeping it soft. “One, two, three, it is, m’ beauty.”

So the two of you start to move. As you lead him around the dance floor, you focus on him rather than all the people who are staring at you. “By the way, I don’t think we introduced ourselves. I’m (Name). And your name?”

“Ah, it’s JOKER,” he hums. “Mum told me she’d never heard ‘f anyone wit’ tha’name, but I picked it m’self a while ago. Never ‘ad any other one.”

“Huh… Lady Durless-Barnett isn’t your mother by blood, right?”

“Aye, tha’s right. She found us all an’ took us in.”

“So, what about the woman who gave birth to you? She didn’t give you any kind of name?”

He averts his eyes down toward your feet with a halfhearted shrug. “She didn’t. Rather not talk ‘bout any o’ that, ‘f ye don’t mind.”

You frown, but recover quickly. “Oh… no, that’s fine. I understand. Then ― all the others that Lady Durless-Barnett took in along with you. You were all basically a family before she found you? You’re all brothers and sisters?”

“Mhm. Tha’s ‘ow we’ve always thought o’ each other.”

“That’s so sweet.” You glance around the room for a minute, spotting some of them, and you can’t help the smile that settles on your lips. “What are their names? What are they like?”

His own smile is back at those questions. “Well… th’ two over sittin’ in th’ chairs, that’s Mally an’ Dagger. They’re each missin’ a leg. Both a bit ‘otheaded, if ye ask me, but that jus’ means they’re also passionate an’ determined. Go ta th’ ends o’ the Earth f’r ye if they think ye deserve it.”

“What about the tall fellow standing by the punch?”

Joker laughs and this time a little snort makes its way out. “Aw, that’s Jumbo. Ye can tell righ’ off what’s goin’ on with ‘im, can’t ye? I knoo he looks scary, but ‘e’s got the biggest ‘eart I ever seen. More afraid o’ ye than ye are o’ him, I’d wager. That suit don’t fit ‘im right; Mum did ‘er best.”

“And the girl next to him by the refreshment table ― the one with cake all over her dress?”

“Ah, God! She’s got it all dirty already, does she?” That grin of his is… really something. “Tha’s Freckles. We call ‘er Doll sometimes, too. Ye knoo, she’s pro’ly the brightest outta all o’ us, ‘r at least brighter’n I am. She’s pretty much th’ heart o’ our li’l group, always got a smile f’r us all.”

“I think the last two are… running around flirting? They seem to be half everyone else’s height?”

It’s obvious that the image is hilarious to him. “Oh, Peter an’ Wendy. Those two only grew ta a certain ‘eight, an’ they’re ‘bout as inseparable as anythin’. Peter can be a bitter pill ta swallow, rough round the edges… come ta think ‘f it, so can Wendy, she’s jus’ quieter. Once ye get ta know ‘em, though, ye see they ain’t bad at all.”

You give one more look at all of them, then return your gaze to Joker’s face. “… So, how about you?”

He blinks a few times, looking surprised. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” you giggle. “Now that I know that everyone else is passionate, nice,energetic, loyal… what are you? How would you describe yourself the way you just described your family?”

“Oh… er…” And he’s blushing again. Precious. “I… dunno, really.”

A hum vibrates up from your throat. “I suppose I’ll just have to find out for myself, then. As it stands, this is one of the most pleasant dances I’ve ever had with someone, so I would use charming as a starting point.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Ye think?”

“I’ve done this a few times, you know.” You lead him in the next step, twirling around with him in your arms. “So far, you’re probably the best dance partner I’ve had. You’re very sweet.”

“Awh, ye’re havin’ a go at me. Don’t make me blush, beauty.”

As the song transitions into a new one, you lean over and give a very light kiss to his cheek. “Oh, don’t limit me like that. You’re very handsome when you blush.”

You loosen your arm so that he can move away if he doesn’t want to dance for another song. “So,” you say, “would you like to go for another song?”

He shifts himself out of your arms. “Actually, sure. But first, would it… maybe be alrigh’ if I brought Mally an’ Dagger over? They both been poutin’ over not bein’ able ta dance, an’, well, if ye can find a good way ta ‘elp me dance, I bet ye could f’r them too. Sure make ‘em real happy, if ye’re up f’r that.”

“Oh… of course! I’m nothing if not up for a challenge.” You step back and give him a curtsy. “Hurry back!”

-

“Joker, darling, did I just see you were dancing with (Name) (Surname)? Goodness, and you didn’t think you’d be confident enough to ask anyone to dance, yet you asked the most beautiful, eligible woman in the room!”

Joker shoots a nervous grin at his mother, who’s currently fanning herself as she surveys her party. “Actually, she… she was th’ one who asked me.”

“What?” Anne’s eyes get even wider, sparkling devilishly. “Oh, my!! That can only mean one thing. She’s interested in you.”

“Her? Oh, Mum, she’s lovely, she really is, but… I-I dunno.” Just thinking about you makes his heart skip a beat. He’s very much interested in you, but the two of you did just meet, and he’s… missing pieces. “She couldn’t be int’rested in me.”

Anne pauses in the motion to point her fan toward the dance floor. “Then why is she doing that?”

When Joker turns his head where his mother is pointing, he not only sees what you’re doing, he hears it too. Currently, you’re positioned as if in a stand-off with one of the other attendees.

“― And you don’t know anything about him! You want to insult someone, pick on someone your own size and come at me. Go on! If you want me to tell my father to cut off business with yours, I dare you to say something. A woman leading a man in a waltz isn’t that strange! Well? Suddenly you don’t have anything to say? Just turn around like the coward you are, and if I hear you so much as breathe another word about him, you will be sorry.”

Joker’s attention isn’t even on the fact that the other lady turns bright red before flouncing off with her friends. He doesn’t care about her reaction; he cares about what you’re saying and doing. What…?

It would appear you’re defending him from someone who tried to make rude remarks about him. Why? Isn’t that the kind of thing that could ruin your standing if you get too heated about it? Why would you risk that just because someone made a cruel comment about someone you barely know? Why would you threaten such a big thing as changing your father’s business partners for him, who’s basically a stranger to you?

Anne’s giggling as she nudges Joker with one elbow. “Keeping that in mind, we should start thinking about whether you’d like a June wedding or a December wedding.”

“Mum!!” he snorts, though his face is all aglow with a soft pink. “That’s not… I’m not… she’s…”

“She likes you. Which, of course, proves that she has excellent taste.” Anne runs an affectionate hand through her son’s hair. “Why don’t you set up a date with her, sweetheart?”

Joker’s gaze returns to you, still standing in the middle of the dance floor, arms crossed, silently daring anyone to say anything mean about him or any of the others, while he remembers how kindly you treated him.

“… I just might do that, Mum. Just might.”

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Matters of the Heart

Pairing: Best friend! Yeonjun x gn. reader

Genre: Fluff; Angst; Maybe eventual smut (I'm not sure about this, but if my bestie wants it, I might add I lmao)

Content Warnings: University au!; mutual pining; our main leads being stupid; I haven't planned smut for this one, but it might well turn suggestive

Word Count: 1.96k words 

Mellow speaks: The first part is here!!! I honestly can't believe I came up with this idea in a dream lol. I'm enjoying writing it, so I hope you guys look forward to more parts!! 

Tagging: @sweethyuka @yedamology @enhacolor @axartia @hyunsuksmygod @yogurteume @duolingofanaccount @zurimochi @yogurteume @blahbluhblahbluh @yeonyeonyeonjun @yjs6x @silent--cry (this one's for you my love)

(Taglist is open!! Send in an ask/dm to be added, or simply comment under this post!)

Next》

You're back at last, and despite having had been away for months on end, it seems that the campus you had come to adore over your years as a student hasn't changed one bit during your absence. No, it's still the same, buzzing with people both known and new, some roaming across the gravel and others seated at the benches. The fro-yo shop at the left-hand corner catering to a whole line of of expectant customers, and the sound of Kai's voice, slightly off-note on purpose to "attract listeners" (his own words, not Taehyun's) filtering through the speakers and telling you it's time for the radio's afternoon show. Yeah, everything's the same, and boy are you glad to be back.

Don't get this twisted though. You were more than grateful for the opportunity of going to Australia for the exchange programme, and you're even more grateful as you think back to all the interesting stuff you learned and all the sweet memories you made during your stay. But that doesn't mean you didn't miss being back home in Seoul, didn't miss your weekly trips to the fro-yo counter just to get a student discount. Didn't miss seeing Beomgyu being weird in class, or didn't miss sipping on your latte with Taehyun while judging Soobin as he tried to ask his crush out (something he finally did manage to do while you were away, much to your dismay). 

And most of all, it definitely doesn't mean you didn't miss a certain someone, because you did. You did miss him, much more than you'd care to admit. The late-night and early morning video calls weren't nearly enough to fill the void that having to navigate your days without him had left inside your heart, and it's no lie that right now, you're counting down the minutes till you can meet him again. That's the thought you have in mind when Kai's voice breaks you out of it, a giggle to be heard from the tiny intercoms spread throughout the balconies and roofs of the buildings.

"You're favorite boy Kai is back!," his high-pitched tone carrying through the air as a groan from Taehyun follows soon after, their wordless banter making you let out a chuckle. "Some things never change," you mutter to yourself, tuning in to the news segment just so you know all the juice before stepping back into college life. But what you hear instead is nothing short of a scream of excitement, a gasp slipping past your lips at the suddenness. 

"Now as you all know, our lovely Y/N, the heart of our campus, has come back from her trip to Australia. And as her best friend, I think it's my duty to-," Kai says all to happily, only to be cut off by Taehyun's panicked voice as he says something that makes you raise your eyebrows in surprise. "I'm sorry for that Yeonjun. Everyone knows Y/N's your best friend, Kai was just being stupid. Ignore him,"his words bleed through, the mention of a particular name making your ears perk up. 

Yeonjun. Choi Yeonjun, the clueless campus heartthrob and your best friend since first year of college. Despite being a year elder to you, his annoyingly adorable ways did help him wiggle into your life, and eventually, your heart. You hadn't planned for it to happen, but how could you not melt when he was always popping up by your side at random times, just to "steal you away" and take you to his spot, the small room on the rooftop which he claimed to have discovered. How could you not melt when he was always there to stop people from waking you up when you fell asleep in the library, threatening to blast them off to space if they ruined your nap.

Yet, all you had thought of it was a simple crush, confident that it would go away when you left for your programme. But as your eyes scan the grounds and halls for any signs of his mop of hair (which you know from all the selfies is blue now), you're not so sure anymore. Because how can you be when the past few months, the only thing that's been keeping the homesickness at bay has been his constant words of encouragement, his efforts to sneak in a "Good morning" and "Good night" every day without fail, despite it not being an obligation. 

Yeonjun has been nothing but supportive of your effort to broaden your horizons, and he's been telling you the same thing over every text message and through every video call, day in and day out. He didn't need to put it into words, it was plenty evident from the way he told you he said "I miss you" but never lingered on that thought too long, afraid of making you change your mind. And if you had expected the softness in your heart to go away as the skyline of South Korea had receded into the distance, his actions and gentle sure did prove you wrong. 

That's why, here you are now, letting your feet carry you through the corridors of the university, your eyes peeking into every nook and cranny in the hopes of discovering the person you're searching for. Your best friend, after all, is the person you want to meet first  "He was supposed to meet me near the archway," you mutter to yourself, shaking your head a little as you continue down the halls, turning up no luck in the cafeteria or even the dance room, the two places you know he loves the most. Except......

"Of course!," are your words at the very next moment, your hand flying to your forehead as you think of the one place he can be. Before you know it, you're jogging, your feet slapping against the hard ground as you make your way towards the gymnasium hall. Why, you ask? Because in case you've forgotten, that's the building whose top floor happens to be the home to the radio room, the place where you had, quite literally, run into a wall during your freshman year, on your way for an interview.  

The wall in question, rather obviously, was the toned chest of none other than Yeonjun, the hottie who was notorious for being absolutely in the dark about how he made head turns and hearts ache with a simple smile of his. That was your first meeting with him, but by no means did it become your last, the stars aligning in a way to orchestrate meeting after meeting. Soon enough, he was your co-host on the morning show, the sleepy expression on his face as he walked into the station with a boba in hand making your cheeks flush every morning. 

To put it short, it was bit too adorable for you to handle. His hair a little messy from the shower, and his cheeks still puffed-up from the late-night snacking, something he had told you quite early on was his favorite pastime. And that wasn't all he had told you either, his witty oneliners and quirky, completely random thoughts always managing to catch you off-guard as you got ready for another "Wakey wakey" over your mic. But your chemistry with him was undeniable, the Y/NJun duo quickly becoming a fan-favorite. And with that, blossomed the beginning of a beautiful friendship with the man you had affectionately come to call "Jjun." 

The rest, as they say, is history, your mind swimming with memories that threaten to make you smile and weep at the same time. "He must be in there," you think to yourself, turning the last corner between you and the gymnasium. But the very next moment, you're suddenly stopping, skidding your feet against the gravel as you let out a gasp. It takes you a minute to process the sight in front of you, your eyes scanning over the giant blue and pink banner that welcomes you back. 

That's not all that's waiting for you though, because right under the banner, stands a whole group of people, the figures of most of them rather easily discernable as they face away from you. That is, until one of them, one with a fading blue haircolor, starts to turn around, the smile that you've missed so much finally greeting you in the face. And then, you're running again, actually dashing this time, your form throwing itself at Yeonjun as your arms get wrapped around his shoulders, his own snaking around your waist. 

Next thing you know, he's lifting you up, laughs to be heard from everywhere around you as he spins you, his own laughter rumbling through his chest. It's in that moment that you notice the tears that are now streaming down your cheeks, the months of being away from him hitting you like a truck. Everything fades away into the wind, only Yeonjun and you being left behind, at least in your mind's eye. It's just the two of you, perfect like always, not needing anyone else.

When he puts you down, it's like you can't being yourself to tear your gaze away from his eyes, his head bent slightly as he looks down at you with the softest expression on his face. "Hi," is all you can say, finding yourself at a loss for words the longer you stare at him. It's hard to fathom that he's finally there, finally in front of you, and not just waving at you through a screen. This moment is perfect, and you don't want it to break. Ever. 

Except it does, a giant Soobin lurching in to steal you away, hugging you super tight and crying about how he missed you. It's not like you can bring yourself to be mad at him though, because you did miss him too. After that, it's an slew of hugs and kisses and shouts of "Welcome back." The kisses, of course, are from Beomgyu, your eyes voluntarily flicking over to the eldest among you to gauge his reaction. 

But he's not there, making your scrunch your brows in confusion for just a second until Taehyun pulls you to the side, complaining about everyone, especially Kai. And all you can do is laugh at that, your heart warming at getting back all the things you missed so dearly. It's mid-laughter that you hear Yeonjun's voice cut through the air, your head turning towards the sound as yet another gasp slips past your lips. A huge cake, bearing your face, is what greets you, a grinning Yeonjun looking at you expectantly. 

"Surprise," he whispers, smile widening as your eyes move from the cake to him and back. After what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to squeak out a "I- Jjun-," only to be cut off by a feminine voice. "It's so nice to meet you at last, Y/N," a girl comes into view, his voice warm and his smile friendly. But she's someone you don't recognize, aside from the fact that she seems a couple years younger. "I've heard so much about you from everyone, especially Yeonjun," she quips, sticking a hand out for you to shake.

But you only look at her in confusion, your face morphing into one of perplexity when she links her arm with Yeonjun. "Your Yeonjun," your mind says, though he's not really yours to keep. Not yet, anyway. Seeing you zoning out, your best friend is quick to spill out an introduction. "Y/N, meet Sara, a freshman and my-," he begins, but it's the girl next to him who completes the sentence, saying something that you're not sure you hear correctly.

"His girlfriend." 

Girlfriend. Yeonjun has a girlfriend. That's when it all comes crashing down. 

[kraviolis]

do you have any wwdits fic recs?

oh buddy i sure do

blanket warning that uhhh some of these fics are rated explicit so. beware the warnings & tags and such.

first one, obvious, is scenes from an alliance.

its a fantasy & arranged marriage AU where guillermo from the de la cruz clan of vampire slayers agrees to marry the infamous vampire warlord, nandor the relentless. it's a very different dynamic between the two of them because they start off as equals but guillermo is just as ambitious & crafty and nandor is just as controlling & bad at communication.

it's still on going (100k words and counting) and normally i dont rec fics that arent finished/close to finished but this one is so juicy, like even if it doesnt ever finish i'd still be glad to have read it. fully recommend it.

going 180 from lengthy & meaty AU fics is this really fun and cute one called better get a chaperone. it's laszlo and guillermo fake dating to make nandor jealous and it fucking rules and i need like 7 more of these little bitches right now.

i lied about the whales is a season 3 finale au/fix it where nandor and guillermo do go on their roadtrip but also try to talk about their feelings. so fucking good so fucking delicious go read it rn.

this one is rated explicit so fair warning, but scars is a rlly good trans guillermo/nandermo fic. do be very mindful of the tags, it is not a lighthearted fic!! but it IS very cathartic and explores guillermo's religious trauma & his transness in a very enjoyable and realistic way. (it DOES make guillermo's dad out to be extremely transphobic btw cus i know thats a deal breaker for many people)

a different trans guillermo fic that isnt as heavy is portraits, which is technically nandermo but pre-slash. its by the same author as scars but its entirely fluff about guillermo braiding nandor's hair and coming out to him. its just cute tbh.

ofc there's also this absolute fucking delight there is a shortage in the blood supply (but there is no shortage of blood) which is also very much rated explicit. its a season 3 canon divergence nandermo slow burn with smut. very simple and fucking entirely delightful.

if you like accidental baby acquisition, here's a short and sweet and funny fic about that called Guillermo Has a Secret, Nandor Suspects Cats, and Laszlo and Nadja Couldn't Give a Fuck, Except That They Do. the title says it all i think.

OHHH okay i'm gonna need you to read this one called you're dead (and out of this world) which yeah classic title but it was written post-s2 and pre-s3 and is a funky and really fun and super fucking interesting AU about guillermo having more than just quick reflexes and sharp aim passed down from his great (x30) grandfather. so fucking fun i love it.

human teeth is just... man. MAN. it's a post-wellness center fic about nandor's deprogramming and its so fuckin...... i dont even know what to say just read it i promise its good.

of friendships, reunions, and wooden knitting needles is a season 4 speculation fic where guillermo is stuck in england with nadja. technically its also trans guillermo but thats only mentioned briefly. its a really nice fic and it definitely helped to sate my hunger for season 4 content.

another season 4 speculative fic is ship to wreck which is entirely nadja & guillermo being stuck on the ship together and having forced bonding time and i LOVE IT. its done so well and its so so so fucking good i really love it.

here's another season 4 fic about my favorite concept to think about these days, guillermo being turned into a vampire! its called to die in england is no fun. contrary to the title it is a very fun fic, short & sweet too, feat. nadja & guillermo friendship.

another fun vampire guillermo fic is we all bleed the same damned blood but SURPRISE its another fic with trans guillermo and trans laszlo !! its transgenderism just for you!! very fluffy & sweet and just nice 2 read.

and to round this up for now is another fun vampire guillermo fic that is actually mostly just a nandor whump fic called deliria.

and ok i KNOW that doesnt sound fun but its my favorite kind of hurt/no comfort which is kidnapping & torture with some yearning mixed in. dont ask me why its my favorite, im not sure, but its pretty good fic if you just want to hurt emotionally for a while. though i will warn you the ending is not satisfying and is very open ended. be wary of the tags ok i warned u you legally cannot get mad at me.

i hope you approve of these fics!! i didnt have them all bookmarked so i had to go scouring my ao3 history & the wwdits tag to find em.

[anchoviesinthenightsky]

I have some fic recs for you. I am personally VERY picky when it comes to fics so I feel your pain. 1. "Cool Blue" (You already mentioned this one, but it is really good) 2. "The Boy with Bright Brown Eyes in a Bright Blue Sea" (Human Alberto AU, ao3 - @nyungies) 3. "the cut that always bleeds" (Wattpad - @cygnus, internalized homophobia) 4. The "The Storm and The Sea" Series (Wattpad - It's a hard read with TW warnings, but it's really good, @TaraZamir) Lastly, "The Knack" (ao3-PeppermintyBoy)

Thank you for the recs!! I think it's so interesting to see what other people are reading and enjoying!

Cool Blue by isonlyme (Glad to know it is good!!)

"I think you dropped this," It whispered, in such a soft and shy way Alberto took in a ragged breath. Okay, fish definitely didn't do that. Was this thing...actually talking to him? The creature stuck its webbed fingers from the pool and took the paintbrush, staring at it for a moment before handing it out to a speechless Alberto. "Woah! Uh...H-Hello?" Alberto breathed, gingerly taking back the brush. ---- Where Alberto is a human artist, and Luca is the sea monster boy, his subject matter.

The Boy with Bright Brown Eyes in a Bright Blue Sea by Nyugies (what a great title btw)

Alberto has always wanted to be a hero, so when he spots a sea creature swimming about, he takes the opportunity to kill it. What he didn't expect was coming face to face with the prettiest boy he's ever seen, and the fact that his life will never be the same. Human!Alberto AU where he was adopted by Massimo when he was 13 years old, Giulia's his sister, and he grew up in Portorosso.

The Knack by PeppermintyBoy

In the race of romance, Luca’s always coming in last. Giulia’s in a steady relationship with her girlfriend and Alberto’s been in more relationships than Luca can count. Luca’s never been with anyone and he’s a year into college now. When Alberto shares that he simply has the knack for romance, Luca asks him for romance lessons. Luca hopes it won’t take a lot of practice because there’s only one boy Luca wants to love like that. AU where the events of the movie happened ~2010s, so at the end of the events of the movie all three went to school together, inspired by the song “The Knack” by Mother Mother.

I... do not know how to use Wattpad and the website wouldn't let me search anything without making an account, which I don't feel like doing (I've had to make so many new passwords for work. I'm passworded out lol).

Would you mind sending me links to the other two?

[bonny-kookoo]

Brave Girl (J.JK x Reader) ☁️💜🎀🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (ft. Med student!Namjoon)

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Good Girl!AU

Warnings: Heavy angst, traffic accident, injury, hospital, Jungkook is panicking, MC gets hurt, Koo is just lost and hates hospitals :(, Namjoon being the hero he was born to be, fluffy and dramatic smut, overstimulation, mild DDLG themes, protected sex because we wrap it up in this household smh

Summary: you were supposed to be home at 6 to help Jungkook devour the feast that is the freshly baked pizza he’d made to welcome you back from your trip to your parents, yet when the clock strikes 9 you’re still not home. Just when Jungkook is about to call you since you didn’t react to his texts, he receives a call from you; and he swore his heart stopped beating. Loosing you had never been a thought in his head until now, but he might just gotten closer to this reality than he ever imagined being. And he hated it.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl

"Alright, do we have everything now?" Jungkook asked, helping you place your pastel pink travel bag into his car, careful not to scratch all of the sparkling and colorful stickers on it. They looked a bit worn already, but you always felt a bit upset if there was another scratch to a prized posession such as your sticker-collection- yet when Jungkook told you not to put any more on your bag, you began to pout as well. You asked with a simple nod, already excited to meet your parents again after a long time apart. Jungkook offered to drive you to the bus station, not being able to bring you there entirely because he, quote unquote, 'didn't feel ready yet'. Many would've felt offended by that, but you knew not to read too much into it when it came to him- there were a lot of things for him that were still new, and his love was strong enough for you not to question it. You were both growing comfortable at your own pace, and that was enough for now.

Your parents had understood as well, even though your father had been a little more skeptic than the rest of your family; but he'd always been a little overprotective, so it didn't surprise you at all. While you were driving home, knees against the seat in front of you, you rummaged through your small backpack, taking out a small pack of gummi bears Jungkook had packed inside. He'd been so careful with everything, insisting on buying you this specific backpack because 'it's so soft, you can use it as a pillow inside the bus so you sleep better'. Maybe you were slowly making him soft as well? You were glad however that he had packed your headache medication in as well, long rides sadly having this effect on you sometimes.

Ever since you were a kid, you've always felt safe within public transport. You've been taking the bus and train to school for years, never truly thinking about the danger it could hold. Even now, with the pouring rain outside, you felt calm. Something that would change soon.

For now however, you just noticed how the jacket of the young man next to you slowly slipped off of his lap. He was asleep, you at least thought so, but you couldn't help but reach for the jacket before it could truly fall down onto the slightly muddy floor, your own shoes slightly at fault since it was quite muddy outside before you came in and sat down. "Ah, thanks-" He suddenly said, making your eyes widen at noticing how he only head headphones in. Maybe he hadn't been asleep after all?

"No problem" You said, putting your feet underneath your butt after having taken off your shoes. Your boyfriends' advice had proven to be quite nice after all, putting on comfortable loungewear such as your soft sweatpants and a large white shirt of Jungkooks collection (he had packed it in actually) were slowly proving to be way better than your typical attire. The guy next to you- Namjoon you'd found out on your first ride, having been seated next to him as well- looked quite casual as well. Instead of his more formal clothing he'd worn the first time you had talked to him he had switched to simply jeans and a loose sweater, something that made him seem a lot younger. "Listening to a podcast again?" You casually asked him, and he smiled, taking out one of his headphones.

"No, just music this time. That whole trip kind of drained me if I'm being honest." He explained, crossing his legs before conversing further. "What about you? Had fun with your family?" He said, genuinely interested it seemed. It was rare to find someone as honest as him. At first, you had been a bit careful, knowing that men usually had intentions that differed from what they were actually saying, but Namjoon had been just as friendly as before when you had told him about Jungkook. He just said that he seemed like a nice guy, nothing more to it, and still talked to you just the same.

You nodded your head at his question. "I was kind of sad when I had to leave again, but I also can't wait to come back home!" Excitedly you wiggled around a little, before you found a good position in your seat that didn't make your legs sleep in from being bend so much Namjoon smiled at you.

"I bet. I can't wait to fall into my own bed again as well." He said, before the bus swayed a bit, making you hold onto your belongings to keep them from falling down. Namjoon leaned into the middle a bit, to look at the front window and the driver. "Jesus, he's been driving like this for a few minutes now." He mumbled, making you a bit nervous. He was a very observant person from what you'd gathered until now, your first interaction had been him asking you about your headache even though you were sure it hadn't been too noticable. He was a med student however, top of his class he'd told you, so he probably had a third eye for things like that. "Hopefully they'll change drivers soon. He seems tired." He said, and gave you a reassuring smile. "It's gonna be fine-" He said, before the bus swayed again, this time however, pushing you against the front seat from the force. Seconds later the direction changed drastically, windows shattered, and the only thing you felt when you were able to gather your thoughts again was how cold it was.

The wet ground was slowly seeping into your clothes, the weird feeling of muddy grass underneath your hands as you pulled yourself into a sitting position foreign. One of the first things you were noticing was the incredibly high pitched ringing in your ears, sounds muffled as if someone was holding their hands over them. Things were blurry, lights passing by, and something was moving in front of you. For some reason however, you were only having one thought. Jungkook. He'd know what to do. But where was your phone?

You slowly got up, yelping in pain when your knee gave out and made you fall back down again, scratching the palms of your hands open on some random branches and.. glass? Suddenly you remembered the bus, Namjoon talking to you, and then- it was as if someone skipped a video you haven't seen before, an entire fragment missing completely. You crawled out of the bushes and onto the pavement when you spotted your wet and dirty backpack, your things and several unknown items of other passengers scattered everywhere on the street. And there, just a small distance from you was you phone- the hello kitty charm ripped off and probably lost forever. The screen was an absolute mess, yet it was still working when you reached it, unlocking it with your passcode because your fingerprint scanner was a definite goner for sure. Your headache was killing you at this point, your nose running from the cold, and your mouth had a metallic and bitter taste. It started to ring. One time. Two times. A voice.

"Creepy, I was just about to text you princess. Are you close to the station yet?" He asked, you could hear the TV faintly in the background, then a little movement, his earring clattering against his plastic case he had around his phone, something that still didn't help him with his curse of breaking his screen in record time. "Hey, you there?" He said chuckling, when you eventually answered him. "Hm?" He said, suddenly furrowing his brows invisibly for you on the other side of town, ceasing his movements and instead getting up to grab the remote, silencing the TV. He could hear faint talking on your side, yet it didn't seem like casual chatter, but frantic.. almost as if someone was panicking in the background.

"I said uhm-" You started, swallowing the weird taste before looking around, noticing no movement, but someone began to shout a name, another one softly wheeping, noises increasing with every passing minute. You could faintly spot headlights behind the bus, someone driving past had noticed, and people suddenly stood at the sides. But your vision hadn't cleared yet, so maybe you just couldn't see. "I think- I think we had an accident 'Koo, I-" You said, suddenly chocking a little on the fluid in your throat, coughing to get things under control and your voice back. The mention of an accident, the way you spoke, and the cliche noise of you coughing made him get up immediately, frantically running to his jacket, reaching for his car keys. You always told him how funny it was to you how he always told everyone how organized he was, yet always loosing his car keys. Right now he wished you would make fun of him, he wished you would just say sike and reveal your joke, yet deep down he knew you would never joke about something like this.

“It’s okay baby, you’re gonna be okay, where are you?” He stresses, trying yet failing to keep his own demeanor calm over the phone. You answer him that you don’t know, and he just feels the confusion radiating off of you. Something was terribly wrong, he could feel it deep inside his veins by the way you seemed to be unable to catch an actual thought. “Are you hurt anywhere?” He asks, even though he fears the answer you might give him.

“I..don’t know? My head hurts.. I- Jungkook I think I’m bleeding, what do I do?” You stress, and feel your own panic rising in your throat, making your eyes water and nose burn. You wished you could just tell Jungkook where the hell you were but you didn’t know, streets completely strange to your eyes, shifting around like a fever dream, as if you’d never seen them before. “Kookie, ‘m scared.. I wanna sleep-“ you began to mumble, less and less conscious, your head beginning to rest on the cold ground, the bus now beginning to shift out of focus. There we’re a few people walking around and you wanted to wave, to tell them you’re here, but one of them who you recognized faintly as the guy who’d been sitting next to you during the ride noticed you anyways.

Jungkook started to panic on the other end of the line, desperately trying to pin your phones location. “No no no baby, you’re so brave, you’re such a brave girl, don’t sleep in on me right now okay?” He pleaded, growing more and more anxious the less you answered him. “Baby? Don’t stop talking to me now please.!” He said, trying to get an answer out of you. But the only thing he could hear was the soft white noise, no trace of your voice whatsoever. “Baby? Please-“ he said, eyes watering out of frustration as he noticed the sudden commotion outside, cars suddenly driving out of his nearest police station, sirens loud and clear. “Please, y/n, talk, say anything!” He begged, voice choked with unshed tears, throat closing up.

“Hello?” A stranger answered.

“Who are you? What happened to y/n? Is she okay? I-“ he tried to rush his questions as if that’d get him the answers faster.

“She’s- uh- I don’t know, the bus just suddenly lost control and she- I think she’s still breathing but uhm- look, we’re at, uh-“ Jungkook wasn’t listening after he’d gotten the information he so desperately craved. He knew where you were. He’d get to you. He needed to get to you. And for the first time ever, Jungkook actually started to pray.

He finally found his car keys, ripping the door open to close it with a loud bang behind him, TV running but long forgotten. His stubborn car door didn't open instantly, making him almost growl in anger at it, eyes watering again when he remembered how you always told him to just get it fixed instead of buying a new one. You always had this idea of things having a soul anyways, so you always told him he needed to be nice to his car, or it would be upset. Right now he was not fit to drive. He did it anyways.

He groaned at every red light, hating how he couldn't just run them over because your absolutely stupid voice kept ringing in his ear to drive safely, he hated it right now, so so much, he could've screamed at nothing right now at how enraged he was. Why didn't he just fucking jump over his own shadow and drive you to your parents? None of this would be a thing if he would just finally man up instead of cowering all the time, simply believing that his time with you was endless. He knew it wasn't. He knew one day you two would pass. But that was supposed to be when you both were old and wrinkly, when you both had kids and grandkids, when both of you had enough stupid and disgustingly sweet stories to be able to make them gag at how he would still call you his most beautiful girl. This wasn't happening. He was going to make sure of it.

He reached the destination a little too far away, cars already stopping traffic, people on the side, watching, and he felt agitated again. He decided to simply turn his steering wheel, half-hazardly parking his car almost in the bushes next to the road, before opening the door with his key and phone in hand, closing his car door way too harsh as he could hear something crack, but his legs were already making him run at the fastest pace he had ever before. His hair and clothes, the black zip hoodie he had thrown over his grey shirt were growing damp from the mild rain coming down, yet he didn't care. He had his hood up, before it slipped down, his hands pushing past people, the need to insult them for staring and taking pictures instead of actually helping strong inside his veins, yet he simply portrayed his distaste at his not so gentle shoving to get past them.

Somehow he had apparently arrived before police or the ambulance had, because there was no one there yet. "Y/N!" He yelled, his voice frantic and almost unrecognizable, even to his own ears. He could spot people laying around, some helping others, and some simply waiting for help as he searched for your figure among them. He saw some of your stuff, the travel bag you had, now wet and scratched, your backpack, thrown on the street and some small items he could recognize as yours such as the formerly white bunny jacket he had bought you before you went on this trip. "Y/N!" He yelled again, and got someones attention a bit off the side near the woodside next to the road. "Oh no-" He whispered under his breath when he could see the guy leaning a bit over you, your head on the ground below, soft socks a darker shade than usual from the moisture they had picked up by now. You were laying on your side, the young man pushing a flannel shirt against your hip. He ran straight towards you, reaching out to grab you, just to have the stranger grab his hands instead, pushing at his chest. "What the fuck-?!" He exclaimed, ready to burst.

"We don't know how serious her injuries are at the moment. If you move her you could make the damage worse." He said, serious. "It's better to leave her like this, and wait for the ambulance." He said, unable to make the younger ones angry and frustrated face calm down, but he listened anyways, knowing deep down that he was right. "Kim Namjoon by the way, Medical student- trust me, I know what I'm doing okay?" He refrained from telling the younger one that you would be okay, having sworn to himself when he started as a med student to never give out false hope. Jungkook nodded, tears finally falling as he swallowed hard, simply running his hand over your hair, trying to give you reassurance- or maybe he tried to reassure himself that you were still there. Maybe even both.

When the ambulance arrived, you slowly gained a little more consciousness again, hand grabbing at nothing. "..'Koo?" You said, unsure if he was really there or if the smell of his bodywash on the shirt you were making was playing tricks on you. He gasped, leaning down, his other hand running over your bare arm softly as to warm you up.

"I'm here, I'm here baby, you're okay." He said, this time saying these words to reassure himself purely. Namjoon noticed you shivering after Jungkook did, and he instantly took off his jacket, even though it was thin, simply to cover you up. Namjoon yelled for the ambulance to notice them, and both of the guys breathed a sigh of relief when they were running over towards you three.

However, now Jungkook had to face another fear, apart from still possibly loosing you. He hated hospitals. Not in the quirky kind of 'ugh I hate the smell of disinfectant' kind of way, the kind of 'I rather cast my broken wrist with duct tape and wooden icecream sticks just to not have to go near this place' kind of way. When he was asked if he would like to ride with you his terrified eyes looked at Namjoon, the answer he gave an unsure, yet clear nod. He had to be strong right now. You needed him right now, more than ever.

Inside the ambulance, he didn't let go of your hand. You had a hard time answering questions, so Jungkook had to step in now. He kept his eyes on your face, trying to blend out the equipment around you two to not get riled up. Someone had to be there a hundred percent. The nurse noticed pretty quickly, laying a hand on his shoulder to hopefully calm him down. "She's stable right now, okay? We'll wheel her in as soon as we reach the hospital, someone will ask you for her information since we couldn't find her ID or anything on the scene, alright?" He asked, and he nodded, clearing his throat before he resumed watching you breathe. He would've never guessed how happy he would feel just to see such a small thing from you.

A hot cup nudged his hands that were over his head, and he slowly looked up, surprised to see Taehyung of all people in front of him, his newly red hair in complete dissarray as well as his clothes. He looked like Jungkook felt if he was being honest. "Tae?" He asked, voice rough while taking the cup from his friend. His friend simply shrugged, before He sat down next to him, eyes red. "What-" He started, but Taehyung leaned back, speaking quitely, oddly calm, considering his usually loud personality.

"I-" He started, before he seemed to think a bit about how to phrase his next words. "Someone I know was on the same bus." He said. "I heard you talk to the nurse at the counter." He explained when Jungkooks brows furrowed in confusion. "They've managed to stabalize her, but she'll need surgery tonight." He said, and Jungkook wanted to ask who the person was- yet he refrained from doing so. Him and Taehyung were close, sure, but exactly that was what made him stay quiet about it. He knew when it was okay to ask, and when to just shut up. And right now, he simply nodded at him.

"So we're both gonna have a sleepover here?" He asked grimly, pathetically trying to lift the mood. Taehyung just nodded.

When you woke up, it wasn't like it was usually displayed in movies or cheesy novels. It wasn't a slow, gentle breeze from your window, or the way your boyfriend spoke next to you. No, it was actually absolutely silent, except the constant beeping next to you. You actually woke up way faster than you hoped for, your eyes opening like you've just got ripped out of a dream where you fall downstairs or something alike. You heard Jungkook groan sleepily, before he eventually moved his head a little, turning so you could see how exhausted he looked. His eyelashes looked damp, tiny hairs bound together into little groups as he sniffled, head on your hand, open palm holding his cheek as if he needed to feel you even in his dreams. The sight calmed you down.

The change of heartbeat and pulse made the machine next to you switch sounds, and soon you heard the door open, a friendly nurse walking in, smile on her face as her gaze found Jungkook still in the same position as hours before, unbeknownst to you. "How are you feeling, miss?" She softly said, quiet as to not wake the young man who had been switching between crying, watching, or sleeping next to you for the past days. You swallowed, mouth dry, and nodded towards the empty coffee cups next to you on the small bedside table. "I'll get you some water okay? Welcome back miss. I'll just check your vitals for a second." She said, and you nodded at that. Checking the machines and you, she walked out, leaving the door open so you could hear a bit of what was going on in the hallways. Footsteps and sometimes the tune of someones phone going off, random words you were too tired still to understand, and an elevator. Jungkook stirred next to you, opening his eyes after taking a deep breath, yawning before his eyes found yours.

It took him amusingly a couple of seconds before he shot up, immediately coughing from having inhaled his own saliva. You laughed at that, flinching a bit when it made your body ache, before taking him in. He looked horrible, hair a mess, eyes red and skin a bit pale, yet he smiled brighter than he did back when you bought him the new destiny 2 game for his playstation as a surprise. His eyes glistened, suddenly getting a sparkle to them before his lip started to quiver. He dropped his head on your shoulder, silently crying, but this time, he cried from relief. From happiness. From just how much he loved the world right now for giving him more time with you, for giving him a chance to be the embarrassing father and naggy grandpa he always wanted to be someday. Your arm bend and your hand ran through his hair, not minding the long unkempt locks one bit.

The nurse came back in, smiling brightly with a tall doctor in tow, who had a friendly face as well. "Good to have you back miss. How are we feeling?" He said, trying not to grin at Jungkook, who had yelled at the man several times when he'd tried to tell him to go home and rest. You were oblivious to this obviously. Jungkook raised his head a little, using his flannel sleeve to dry his tears, clearing his throat to at least try to look like he got his shit together.

"Uhm, I feel like I had to take my fitnessgram pacer test again, plus a bit more muscle pain in my hip?" You said, making the man chuckle.

"That's completely understandable considering you flew quite a distance miss. We were quite surprised that you were fine breathing on your own, considering everything. You're quite lucky; but we're gonna keep you under surveillance until friday. Your bodyguard can take you home after 12 whenever he likes." He said with a smirk in Jungkook's direction, the one spoken of growing a bit red on the tips of his ears. The doctor leaves after asking you general questions such as, if you knew the current year, your address, and your personal information such as your birthday.

The nurse left the cup of water and a straw on the small table. "I'll let you both catch up. Please make sure she drinks the whole cup, but only a couple of sips at a time alright?" She said to your boyfriend, who nodded, having calmed down a little by now. He moved, his hand a bit shaky as he ripped the top of the papercover of the straw off, before taking the plastic drinking help out of its minimalistic packaging. He put it inside the cup after bending it a bit, before he moved to you, helping you with outmost care to sit up a little. You winced a bit when you tried to move too fast, and Jungkooks face got a little more serious at this. You began to pout at him.

"What?" He said, voice still a bit rough from the lack of using- and the simultaneous shouting everytime he'd opened his mouth these days. He sighed. "Come on, you heard the nurse- you gotta drink." He said, but you stubbornly moved your head to the side, sideeying him. His brow raised in a questioning matter, before he noticed your posture. You had your arms in front of you in a hugging manner, and he suddenly realized how his behaviour must've looked for you. "I'm sorry princess I just.." He said, putting the cup down and running a hand through his hair. "I just.. I was so terrified when I saw you there-" He said, having to swallow hard again so he didn't end up crying again. God, what was it with him again? "Why didn't you call an ambulance? Why did you call me instead?" He asked, a bit of whine to it. You shrugged, deflating a bit in your position leaned up against the pillows.

"You were.. dunno, the first one I thought of." You explained. In Hindsight it had been a bit dumb, why did you call him as if he could magically appear in that second to make everything better, but somehow your brain made that story into a real possibility. "You always make everything better, and you know.. you always know what to do so.." You said, and Jungkook breathed out in a sight.

He leaned closer to you, tattooed hand brushing away some of your hair to place a kiss to your forehead. "Oh baby.." He simply said, resting his against your head for a second, before his thumb brushed over your cheek. "I'm driving you anywhere you need to be from now on." He said, and you nodded with a smile. "Alright. Now come on, drink something." he spoke before picking up the cup, helping you with the straw, taking it away from you after a couple of sips, making you whine. "I know doll, but we don't wanna overdo it alright?" He said. You looked at him with a smile, and he happily returned it.

"Jungkook I can do that-" You said, before he silenced you with a look.

"I'm sorry, as cute as you look walking around like a newborn babydeer, I really like to keep you from falling down again, thank you very much." He said, accusingly pointing to the small bandage on your knee from having stumbled on your way into the kitchen yesterday. Your visible wounds were healing well, but you still had a bit of nerve damage from your nasty fall, which made your legs feel like they're constantly in a state between sleeping in and waking up, minus the pins and needles. They moved, yeah, you could feel them, yes, but it felt like they were wrapped in plastic and someone messed with the controls. Jungkook found it a bit adorable, but he rather not have you give him a shock again from almost hitting the kitchen tiles. Slowly, he came back with a glass of water, making you smile and thank him. He'd currently taken time off from work, having explained to his boss that he had to nurse you for a bit until you could be home by yourself. His boss had been pretty understanding, agreeing to him taking his vacation earlier and with short notice.

One thing you noticed however, was how careful Jungkook was around you. Now, that itself wasn't a bad thing, since right now you're a bit more fragile then usually so, but he was careful in a different way. Ever since you both left the hospital on friday, he stopped giving you goodnight kisses. He rarely hugged you, only ever if you initiated it, and he refused to be close to you during the night, making up excuses like 'I'm scared I'll roll you over during the night babygirl.' That was utter bullshit, because he'd never been worried about that in the past. He's a heavy sleeper and barely moves when he sleeps, so why would it be an issue now?

That was when the goddamn thoughts came back to you. Maybe he realized how close he'd gotten to you and didn't want that anymore? Maybe he wanted to go back to his old way of living, without any strings attached to anyone?

That night, you decided to speak up. Jungkook and you were sitting on the bed, you criss crossed, and him with his back towards you, feet on the carpeted floor. "You can, uhm.. you know, drive me back to the hospital tomorrow so I can get checked back in." You quietly said. He instantly turned around, his phone no longer worth his attention as his brows furrowed.

"Why? Are you okay? Did the stitches open up again?" He said, a bit of panic making his words hurry on their way out of his mouth. You shook your head.

"No, but I don't wanna, you know. You don't like me saying I'm a burden so I won't say it, but yeah. I get it, you know? Its okay, really-" You said, head lowering until you stared your lap. You heard and felt him move, his hand softly on your back.

"What're you saying princess? Why the fuck would you think I don't want you anymore?" He knew your innuendos by now, and he didn't like that you implied a breakup in your sentence one bit. "Baby I'm gonna take care of you now and everyday you need me to, you know that." He said, confused.

You looked at his throat, unable to shift your gaze any higher up, in fear of what his eyes would tell you. "But, you know.. if we're good, why.. why 'm I not getting any kisses anymore? No hugs? No nothing? " You said, starting to pick at your fingers. Maybe you were just making it worse for him. Maybe he'd just tried to figure out how to tell you in a good way, and you just made it so much harder for him to do so. However, the hand on your back left, just so he could take your body into his arms. "I'ts okay, you know-" You started again, and he hushed you.

"None of that, please don't talk like that, please don't." He said, almost breathless as if he was scared to say the words out loud. "Getting told I could loose you for good was terrifying enough already, thank you very much." He said, a dry laugh escaping him, humor nowhere to be seen in it. Typically he would relish in the feeling of his broader and stronger frame compared to you, he would smile at the mere size difference of your hands or the way he could easily pick you up and carry you anywhere he wanted to. But right now it only reminded him how fragile you were, how careful he had to be not to hurt you. He felt helpless, and it was a feeling he decided he'd hate until he died. "I just- I'm scared I'll hurt you." He said, quietly, hoping that maybe you won't hear. But you did.

Holding his face in your hands you were reminded again just how inexperienced he was in this entire thing as well. You always thought he could lead the way without problems, that he knew everything and could teach you what you wanted to know. Yet maybe you both could learn from one another, more so than just you from him. "You won't." You said, and you stubbornly kissed him as he tried to protest, pecking his lips with a newfound courage you didn't knew you had until then. He tried again, just to get another kiss. This went on for a bit, until he deepened the gesture a bit, hand finding its way into your hair, before he pulled away.

"Don't rile me up baby." He groaned, running a hand through his hair. He hated how much you could get under his skin right now, covering his lower half under the blanket you both shared almost shamefully. You kissed him again, making him laugh, finally this time for real. "Stop, I'm serious. You're still healing, or did you forget?" He said, and you whined.

"But you can be gentle! My stitches are coming out on Monday anyways, I'll be fine!" You said, and he had to chuckle at you, his mind being torn from side to side. He didn't know if he could, but the way you trusted him made him wan't to at least try. With a little hesitance he dived in again, making you smile against his lips.

He made you lie down again, slowly, crawling over your form, unhurried, as if you both got all the time of the world. And you had, he knew you had. When you whined, he simply grinned at you. "No no Baby, let's just be close, okay?" He said, voice low and soft, making you melt underneath him. For the first time ever, as cheesy as it sounden, it wasn't about reaching your highs anymore for him. He was a believer that good sex had to finish with as much pleasure as possible for him, yet that had entirely began to shift when he'd met you. Suddenly things weren't about him anymore, suddenly he started to become less and less self-centered; but this time nothing mattered at all. It wasn't about reaching your goal and claiming your prize in form of an orgasm, it wasn't about pure pleasure and satisfaction. No, this time it was about feeling as close to you as he could, he needed to feel every inch of you simply to reassure himself that you were still here, real, and with him.

He reached for the first drawer of the bedside table, your kisses on his chest and biceps making his heart race. Slipping the condom on with your help, not because he needed it but because you wanted to, he made himself at home inside you, mind slowing down with every move he made, his thoughts and body being reminded that you were okay, you were fine, you were still here with him, you didn't leave. Maybe he should be scared of how dependend he'd become on you, how you had sneaked your way past all his walls and made yourself at home inside his soul. Maybe he should be afraid or worried how he couldn't escape you anymore, how he couldn't take a fast exit out of the situation you both had made. But right now, none of that mattered.

Your mind was fuzzy, no thought able to be caught properly, and you let yourself slip even further, giving your entire being into his posession. This was just about being close, and you felt protected and safe with him, his pace slow and unhurried, gentle, and his hands reaching for yours, intertwining your fingers in a soft gesture. It showed just how much he was actually hurting, how much the entire situation had affected him; this was so unlike him that it made you feel proud of yourself to be able to witness it at all. He was laying himself bare in every way for you, and you didn't dare threw salt on his exposed flesh.

He didn't notice if he or you had come at all, continuing to move, yet never picking up his pace. When he watched your blissful face underneath him, his eyes stung again, tears knocking at the back of them, and he gently placed his head on your shoulder, kissing every part of your skin he could reach there, gasping and breathing hard. Never in his wildest dreams he would've thought that this would be the situation he would found pleasure in, yet it happened in that moment, and god, he felt like he couldn't stop. He felt like he could torture himself like this forever if it meant he could show you how utterly terrified he had been of loosing you, how terrified he still was deep down, and how terrified he would always be. He needed you like oxygen at this point, and it scared him shitless, yet even that was something he accepted with open arms and a smile in exchange for your affection. He was whipped for you, deep down bound to you by iron shackles, but he would never ask for a change whatsoever.

The night ended with both of you exhausted yet happy, tangled together under wrinkled sheets and a blanket thrown over your forms.

"I absolutely love you." You said, eyes wide and sparkling at the amount of junkfood your boyfriend carried inside the living room, coat still a bit wet from the rain outside. He brought a wave of cool and fresh air with him, making you shiver for a bit before your hand dived into the first paper bag, the crinkling sound ever so present. He laughed, throwing his coat over the side of the couch before he sat down next to you.

"You only love me for food, how tragic." He said, playfully sighing at it, watching you pout at him. "sorry baby, 'm joking." ruffling your hair he snatched a fry from the small bag you had in your hands, making you whine, but laugh at the same time.

Straightening your back you tried to look taller than him, making him chuckle. "I see this as a reward for not crying today!" You said proudly, and he smiled, nodding. You had gotten your final stitches removed, and even though it was still terrifying for both of you, Jungkook had finally faced his fear and came with you to your appointment, although he had still been heavily uncomfortable, rushing you both out as fast as possible. He was proud however, because even though you had every reason to, you didn't cry- simply squeezing his hand a bit, but nothing too much.

"I know, I know." He said, rummaging through the second large brown bag to fish himself a burger. "That's because you're the bravest girl ever-" He said, yelping when you snatched the food from him. "And also the most daring it seems, you gotta share baby!" He said playfully accusing, reaching for it just for you to hold it further away. "Good girls share, come on, I deserve a reward too you brat!" His hands reached for the item of his desire, making him raise his brows at you. Kissing your slightly greasy and salty lips, he laughed when you made a whiny sound at him. "Come on, this shit was expensive, let's eat."

"I've never seen you cry so much."

"Shut up."

"It was cute though-"

"Oh I'm about to be really fucking cute, get over here young lady!"

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban

[friendofhayley]

Monthly shout-out to every fanfic creator for all fandoms! Thank you for posting your talent for free and making our fandoms a more creative place. <3 This fic rec includes 12 fics from One Direction, Harry Potter, and Teen Wolf fandoms.

Larry (One Direction)

1. Praise the Mutilated World by @eeveelou, @creamcoffeelou | dystopian AU - A/B/O - on par with Hunger Games for dystopian world/plot - maybe its the feminism but I saw some parallels between governing of vagina-welders and omegas - 106k

It was August when everything changed.

By October, the leaves changed, and so did Louis’ heart.

2. i'll be someone who won't be forgotten by @socialiststyles | oof oof oof this hit close to home (for Sagittariuses) - love confessions - friends to strangers to lovers - angst with a happy ending - 27k

"I’m just—" (Harry hiccups) "there’s a lot here."

And – yeah. There are oceans between them and mountain ranges surrounding them and Louis can feel tectonic plates shifting beneath his unsteady feet, pulling them further and further apart by the heartbeat. There are countries of distance, but there are pages and maps and textbooks of shared histories, moments documented and carefully filed away and Louis can’t remember thinking complete thoughts before he thought of Harry.

3. Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) by @lesbianiconharrystyles | this was so soft and lovely - gAyBO - omega/omega - fluff and anxiety - 1k

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

4. falling, catching by tsuneni | light academia - first time - strangers to lovers - creatives in love - 23k

Harry’s jotting down some more notes when he feels a thud on his right shoulder. He doesn’t flinch, thank God, because when he turns his head to the right his suspicions are confirmed. The boy has fallen asleep on Harry’s shoulder.

When Harry lets out the breath he had been holding, the sleeping boy pushes his nose further into the burgundy fabric of Harry’s sweater, and wraps his arm around Harry’s waist.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

Wolfstar (Harry Potter)

5. I Tried Writing Your Name In The Rain, But It Never Came, So I Used The Sun Instead by @lenscribbles | I loved that Remus was a POC and his Syrian mother is amazing - friends to lovers - mutual pining - and nothing bad happens to them ever in the future :) - 12k

Don’t get Remus wrong. He loves his friends, he does! Loves them to the moon and back in fact. They’re his people, his favorite part of everyday, his found family. He’d do anything for them. But the thing is that doesn’t take away from the very simple fact that his friends are fucking ridiculous. Remus knows this, has known it for five years now. But it doesn’t stop him from startling awake on the morning of his sixteenth birthday surprised by the sound of fireworks exploding in their dormitory and a raucous chorus of “Happy birthday Moony!” being shouted into his ear with jaunty gusto.

“You are wicked, wicked wizards,” Remus moans from where he refuses to get up on his bed, covering his face with his hands, a good call on his end considering that the very next moment he feels a cascade of confetti pouring all over him. “The worst of the worst! You deserve to rot in Azkaban!”

“Oh how you flatter us Moonykins,” Sirius croons, pulling him up while James and Peter begin a frankly awful rendition of For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow.

6. Our Destiny in the Stars by orphan_account | non-magical AU - body insecurity issues - trans Sirius - amputee Remus - 11k

Having no luck in the dating field, and insecure about his body, Remus checks out a dating website which offers the users the opportunity to get to know a person before seeing what they look like. It's during this time he meets Sirius, an enthusiastic teacher--and they immediately click. When they agree to meet, Remus sees a photo of Sirius and immediately panics. He's too good looking to ever be interested in someone like Remus. What the tawny-haired man doesn't know, is Sirius has already checked him out online and has fallen head over heels for the adorable editor.

Drarry (Harry Potter)

7. Old Magic (series) by @mystickitten42 | Drarry runs away together pree-HBP - very realistic getting-together - Narcissa is the GOAT - poor Sirius stuck in the middle - 2+ parts

Harry is undeniably numb. Still reeling from the sudden death of his godfather, he’s back at the Dursleys and everything seems hopeless. One day bleeds into the next. But, as they say, nature abhors a vacuum…

Draco is unimpressed. The Dark Lord and his infernal giant snake have taken over Malfoy Manor and he’s confined to his rooms. He feels like a prisoner and it’s just not right. He’s a Malfoy. Itching for confrontation he decides to go visit Harry Potter.

Things don’t go according to plan.

8. The Importance of Being Draco Malfoy (series) by @upon-poppyhills | this is just great, I love that without memories Draco is without prejudice - Harry goes from suspicious to denial to crushing - brief but wonderful Draco/Justin Finch-Fletchley - I can't wait for everyone to find out about Draco's head - 3+ parts

The answer to the age-old question, "What if instead of a scratch on the arm, Buckbeak had stomped on Draco's head instead and caused tragic memory loss?"

It was a truth universally acknowledged that the path to reforming a Slytherin prince never did run smooth.

9. Dear Cousin, Love Regulus by @xx-thedarklord-xx, @llap115 | I confused this with another fic so I never read it until now and it's THE BEST - Drarry talk like dark academia boys sometimes - I'm so glad Draco had Regulus T.T - when he meets the Regulus portrait!! *screams* - 86k

As the sole Malfoy heir, Draco understood that his path was set long before his birth; who to be, how to act and what his choices should be. What he had not counted on was the power of outside influences. Letters from his deceased cousin caused him to realize that he did have choices, starting with the choice to be someone else, to be who he wanted to be. The road to self-discovery was difficult and navigating that path in the shadow of Harry Potter was its own challenge but maybe, just maybe, his friends would help him along the way. And he would owe it all to Regulus Black.

10. bury the dead where they're found by @rocketdocket | THIS FIC is the ultimate found family fic - sometimes people prefer the closet and that's awesome! - PTSD and suicidal thoughts - queer people are just better than the straights, sorry not sorry - 52k

The war is over. Or at least, that's how it feels for everyone else. But not for Harry. He can't escape the memories and the nightmares of the war, or his guilt about those who died for him. While all he wants is to be alone, finding a family in the most unlikely of places may be just what he needs.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

11. A Californian Werewolf in New York by @dancinbutterfly, knight_changes | I love that Oz from Buffy is just there - friends to lovers - bottom Derek - misunderstandings - 16k

When Derek finally realizes that there's nothing left for him in Beacon Hills, he goes back to New York, gets a life, falls in love and finds his home.

12. (they say) this should feel something like fire by dallisons | mental and physical trauma - Boyd & Stiles friendship - dream!Erica - rebuilding - 11k

"Turn it off." The pack looked up, stunned into silence by the first words they'd heard from him in weeks.

Stiles stood, trembling - his knees weak. He tried to run and collapsed, his bad leg failing him once again. Derek caught him. "Turn it off," he said, his voice unmistakably a growl.

The water continued leaking from the loose faucet, and all Stiles heard was Erica's blood against the concrete. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip.

[cyclogenesis]

director's commentary for 'got a feeling that i'm going under' - especially the relationship bucky has with sam's family, and the scene with sam getting hurt.

Oh man, Got a feeling that I'm going under, the fic into which I put every single emotion I ever had. The idea came from the most fantastically random source - many years ago while chatficcing porn with a friend we were writing a 5SOS Harry Potter AU (yes, I deeply miss having someone to chatfic out my worst id garbage with) and I wrote a bit where I used the phrase "like being split open in reverse" about magical wound-healing. The image always stuck with me, and one evening I was thinking about Bucky Barnes, and what his whole fucking deal is, and the idea for the first scene popped into my head. The accelerated healing factor of super soldiers is so interesting to me, and we've seen so little about it - but like with any injury, it helps a hell of a lot if you set the bone/close the wound/etc. first.

I'm always interested in how Bucky went from sniper twink to the guy pitching himself off a motorcycle headfirst at another super soldier; that dude has gotten reckless as hell with his body! So he for sure gets hurt a lot, and I doubt that he was tended to with much care when he was the Winter Soldier, so I imagine he's gotten used to seeing to his own injuries while in the field, probably to the point of feeling awkward about someone else checking on him now. Thus: Local Man, 106, Really Trying to Go to Bed Still Bleeding, Realizes Horrified Partner.

I started writing it sometime after episode 3 or 4 (taking it on faith that the show was gonna have a HEA), initially because the other thing I was working on was taking too long to get to the porn, so I thought I'd write a one scene 4k or so little thing where Sam tends to Bucky's wounds, and they're tucked close in a motel bathroom and, you know, then they fuck, good for them. But then I was really enjoying the tension of that scene, and then I thought about artistically carved magical wounds, and things escalated.

Honestly, my usual approach to any fic is "write enough story to earn the sex scene", so that's sort of what I was doing, but in the way where I kept complaining to my friends that I was trying to get to the porn, but I just kept writing all these feelings. (I think at this point, with this pairing at least, I have to admit that I also always want to write enough story to make it clear that even if they don't say so in the fic, they are absolutely in love with each other.)

I was really struggling with how to finish out the first kiss scene, because I really wanted to get to the porn, but it was just kind of a logistical pickle. It took awhile to occur to me that I didn't have to write about the first time they have sex, which was mind-blowing as that's almost always what I write. Once I realized that, I also realized that (at this point, after the high of the show's ending) I desperately wanted to write a little established relationship for them.

So a kitchen injury to continue the theme was kind of a gimme, and having Bucky cooking dinner at Sam and Sarah's felt like it went right along with how clearly Bucky is part of their family now per ep 6, and would thus be comfortable enough there after awhile to cook in their kitchen (though he still wants to do a good job!). Plus the kids clearly adore him, and I think AJ's still at the age where he'd openly be more dazzled by Bucky and thus eager to help him do whatever. Indulge me in breaking down the following bit, because it's one of my favorite parts:

“I’m fine,” Bucky says again, looking at the stove as if it might betray him and his carefully constructed soup if he gets out of its sightline. “It just needs to simmer for five more minutes.” (Still trying to refuse help, but he'll get there, bless him! Also though he's put a lot of effort into becoming a good cook, he still doesn't entirely trust recipes and gets a little nervous when four other people are depending on him to be fed.)

Sarah, having already assessed the scene and identified what needs to be done, retrieves a wooden spoon from the drawer and pokes Bucky with it. “I got it, go.” (I love the mental image of the wooden spoon poke. Like first of all yes, jab the man, but also it shows quickly that in Sarah's mind at this point Bucky is basically her brother-in-law. 😭!!)

“The salad is looking good,” AJ reports to everyone. (Children are small insane people that still require attention and validation even when someone else is literally bleeding! Love that for them, sincerely.)

“It’s gonna be a great salad, buddy!” Bucky says to him over his shoulder as Sam directs him to the first floor bathroom. (But like, Bucky is so good with kids. He's happy to validate AJ and appreciates his help! He wants to help AJ grow up to be a good man and men these days have to know how to cook! 🥺)

Bucky is out here and he's ready to be a Barnes-Wilson (or a Wilson-Barnes. Or a Wilson. He's flexible)!!

And now the last scene, man, the last scene. Like the rest of this fic, it was absolutely not planned ahead of time in any reasonable way. Let me be super honest here: I ran across a Tumblr post that was basically like "fics where Sam takes care of Bucky are stupid garbage and so are the people who write them" (loosely paraphrased) and I was like OH FUCK this fic is thematically wrong and I Am The Problem, and after brooding about that for probably longer than I should have I realized, relatedly and fortunately, that the only way it made sense to end this fic was to flip the theme on its head and have Sam get injured and Bucky have to look after him. And how Bucky would freak out and become immediately invested in doing everything he can to make sure he can take care of Sam in every way forever. From there I sat down and wrote out the last scene pretty quickly!

I always get the most nervous about endings, so I'm really glad people enjoyed this one. I was pretty in my feelings after posting this fic, considering that I hadn't written a story since 2018, it was my first one for this pairing, it's a real stylistic switch from my past uh few decades of work, I hadn't written for a media fandom with a ton of canon in one thousand years, the central theme was magical wound-healing (?!), etc. The response to it was an extremely pleasant surprise and something I'm still grappling with as I've continued to write in this fandom. I hope someday I can write something else that connects with people the way this one did!

[mrkis]

UNPAID SHIFTS?!? girl im gonna have to have a talk with both your boss and your coworker

coworker... sir/ma'am... if you're gonna work here then at least do your damn shifts what the heck

boss... sir/ma'am.... STOP OVERWORKING MA GIRL AND NOT PAYING HER FOR IT BECAUSE 1) THATS ILLEGAL and 2) SHE NEEDS TO REST and 3) AGAIN. THATS ILLEGAL.

for GODS sake her vagina is bleeding too!!!!! 😒😒😒 people these days man....

- 🎡

ps. on another, much happier and not screaming note, how've you been?? without the, you know, work and anon's being rude and everything going on in your life?? i've honestly been obsessed with harry potter aus and fics (oMg hogwarts au fics are probably the best thing that exist on this world) and im like building a whole ass like discord server so i can talk about it with my friend who has very little knowledge on the subject (i still cant believe she didnt read the series... like miss girl how the heck did you not read harry potter) and also so that we can write about it (me and my friend do this thing where we both exchange writing with each other? we both have two characters and we make them interact, with her sending in a paragraph or two and me responding with a paragraph or two. its honestly great for my writers blocked ass to get my creative juices flowing so im like relying on this in order to make me write something lol)

i've been okay!!! thank you :) i want to start catching up on some shows/movies, i'm in the mood to binge watch an entire series tbh. PLEASE DONT HATE ME but i actually don't like harry potter? i've tried getting into it because obviously its big and my brother likes it but i seriously can't get into it :( i want to try and watch it again though coz i lowkey enjoyed seeing lil parts of the 20th anniversary they currently did lol. but that whole discord server sounds fun and i hope you enjoy yourself!!! the exchanging writing sounds fun too and i’m glad it helps with your writing block!!! id have to try and give it a go or something at some point :) i’ve also been wanting to make a discord for everyone here for awhile just to interact and play games (or just talk about nct/kpop in general) but i seriously do not have the motivation or time to set it all up at the moment BAHAHAH but would you or anyone be actually interested in that if i end up making one??? UGH IDK I JUST WANNA DO SOMETHING DOR EVERYONE