#also of course it ends well but after a long investigation and a lot of pain and suffering

[krimiqueer]

I need a Polizeiruf 110 episode where a small evidence everyone missed points to Adam. Only Vincent catches that, and he hides it as long as he can to lead his own investigation. And it doesn't go well.

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request Bruce x Bat Dad (and some bat fam)

What if reader knew about the darker things in the world like demons and horrors unimaginable from the time he was small and that's why he doesn't talk about things like growing up or his family.

What if reader gets captured by a cult that torture him in order to force reader to translate strange eldritch books and artifacts.

You can choose how long it takes for Bruce to find reader

(What if Bruce and the batfam find out that reader has been hunting and investigating the supernatural like a small base of operations that looks more like a library with hidden weapons)

Hi, I hope you have a good day or night too. Of course you can request. Hehe. Lets go. Also, I'm sorry for taking so long... I hope you like it! And yes, the ending may be rushed, but it's not that bad.

Summary: (Y/N) gets taken for his knowledge.

Warnings: cult, fight, implications of torture... Nothing is really direct per say.

(Y/N) sighed as he closed his old leather book. He wished he didn't have this knowledge, this... (Y/N) swallowed as he put his book back and left the room, closing the fake bookcase. He rubbed his face as he was tired from this life. He wished he didn't have this knowledge. He knows the things that would turn the world upside down.

He met with hell's worst demons and he saw some of the other unspeakable horrors. (Y/N) never had a good life. He grew up in a satanic cult, the one who was genuinely believing that Satan is coming and that they are going to be his loyal servants.

He was apparently marked by Satan when he was born, but then again, when you are in a cult, you believe what they tell you. (Y/N) escaped when he was 16 years old, running like the devil himself was chasing him. (Y/N) came to Gotham with only clothes on his back.

Soon he met a nice guy who helped him. (Y/N) is smart and intelligent and he managed to start high school. He graduated after 3 years and went on to study history and religion at college. He was always interested in those things and soon enough, he found himself working in a museum.

It was a nice change of pace for once. Learning about old things and older religions and he liked it when he could teach someone something new. Of course, he was vigilant of new people and people in general. He was careful when meeting someone new, hoping that the cult didn't go after him. He could only hope so.

Dating after being in a cult it's difficult. Always suspicious of any one coming into his life romantically. Men or women, being suspicious from the get go was a certified way to see if someone was from the cult. It was also one of the fastest ways to get your relationship destroyed.

Then Bruce Wayne came into his life.

It was a coincidence. Bruce saw an interesting exhibition and decided to treat Damian to a little treat. (Y/N) was making his way through the museum, just enjoying his day and making sure every visitor was taken care of. He saw Bruce and Damian, looking in confusion.

(Y/N) walked over and asked if everything was okay and the rest was history. He lead the two through the museum, enjoying the fact that Damian knew a lot about history and it was actually fun to debate a child who knew something over a fact.

Bruce was quiet, enjoying the tour and well... Love at first sight for Bruce. He was chatting with (Y/N) and saw how guarded he was. Sure, everyone is guarded around strangers, but this is a whole another level of being guarded.

Bruce was rather intrigued, but he didn't want to push any boundaries. So he left (Y/N) his number, saying no pressure to say yes, but do call.

To say (Y/N) was a nervous wreck is an understatement. What the hell was Bruce Wayne doing with him? Was he just looking for a one night stand? Or was just flirting to keep with the playboy persona? He came home and stared at the card for 10 minutes, thinking about it.

Should he?

Should he not?

You know what? He's not made from glass. He will go for it and whatever happens, happens. He texted Bruce, he wasn't really brave enough to call. He really wasn't.

He jumped when he saw that Bruce responded.

To cut a very long story short, Bruce and (Y/N) are together to this day. The date went very well and (Y/N) was happy for the first time. He has never been happier. Together with a man who loves him and the kids who love him.

(Y/N) may love the kids more than Bruce, but Bruce won't complain. Anyone who accepted his kids, he was more than happy and if that person loved the kids more than Bruce...

Of course, in platonic way.

But there was something that bothered the family, well, not bothered, but it was interesting to them. It was (Y/N)'s past. It was something he hid and refused to talk about. He would get closed off and cold and soon enough they learnt to not ask about it.

Of course, in a family full of detectives, they wanted to investigate, but they knew that they shouldn't have because it was an invasion of privacy. So, they have decided to leave (Y/N)'s past alone.

Also, one thing that they loved about (Y/N) was the fact that he was teaching them history, something they all loved. Jason was a fan of Egypt and Sumerians. Dick loved European history, more so medieval times. Tim loved the Enigma and the making of a first computer?

And Damian? World War Two and Arabic history.

Alfred loved (Y/N) too and he would love nothing more for Bruce to marry that man. God knows that this household needs another emotionally stable person. Somewhat...

Alfred was not the one to complain.

He saw how (Y/N) and Bruce complimented one another and Bruce gave (Y/N) a push to write his book about history of religion. (Y/N) has always wanted to write that and Bruce gave him a push he needed. But not financially.

(Y/N) said he would do it all on his own. Bruce had no problem with that statement. He agreed to not pull connections with anyone or any publishing house. But he wasn't against getting (Y/N) his materials. He had no problem delivering the materials right to his door or at his work.

(Y/N) knew that Bruce was Batman so he knew that Bruce was in front of his apartment or in his office. (Y/N) enjoyed and was happy to see them.

(Y/N) entered his apartment and went to the kitchen. He was completely oblivious to the fact that there was a dark figure in his living room. (Y/N) took a sip of the water before he heard a creak on the floor board. He acted like it was nothing before throwing the glass in the direction on the sound. He hit the figure and (Y/N) grabbed a knife.

(Y/N) watched as the figure doubled down in pain, before recovering. The figure has stepped into the light and (Y/N) recognized the face.

" You motherfucker... " (Y/N) said as he gripped the handle of the knife tighter.

" That's no way to talk to your leader. " The deep male voice said and (Y/N) sized him up.

Maybe he can make it out. But the leader is strong and full of muscles. He has to evade him. Somehow.

That plan went down to shit when he saw two more figures. Sure, the leader needs to have protection. (Y/N) glanced between the trio. Someone is going to attack first.

Which one is the question.

(Y/N) ducked a punch and tried to stab the incoming one, but he was hurled over the couch, taking it with him. (Y/N) grunted as he hit the floor and he stood up after a few moments. He didn't have his knife with him.

Shit.

He nearly died when there was a fourth figure picking him up, before throwing him into his glass coffee table. (Y/N) grunted as he hit his head. He hissed as he tried to get up, but a kick to his face sent him flying back and he was dazed.

" I'm not coming with you. " (Y/N) said as he wiped the blood from his face.

" Oh you are. We know you can translate the demon transcriptions. And we need those translations. " The leader said and (Y/N) glared at them.

He won't go out without a fight.

" You are outnumbered. There is no way out. " The leader said and (Y/N) glanced at the other two. They were blocking the exit. They only way is to fight out or at least try.

But there was no weapon in sight. So he was screwed. Kicking and punching his way out can only take him so far.

But he had to try.

So he did just that. He tried to fight, but he was punched in the jaw quickly that he was nearly knocked. He fell down, hitting his head hard once more.

His vision was swimming and he couldn't see who was where anymore. His only hope now was Bruce. He knew Bruce would drop by later in the night and that he would find him. Bruce would never stop looking for him.

The kiddos too...

His jaw got punched once more and he blacked out. Now the cult had him where they wanted him. They could do what they pleased.

And if that meant torture... Well, then so be it.

Two fucking months. Bruce was losing his mind as he was looking for his boyfriend. He was horrified when he learnt of (Y/N)'s past, who wouldn't be terrified? Learning and growing up in a cult?

Bruce remembers the first time he entered the apartment and he will always wonder about a lot of things. More so that (Y/N) is somewhat normal.

Bruce was shocked that (Y/N) turned out normal. The trauma he must have went through... He was even more shocked when they found out the secret library in his apartment... Bruce had to call John Constantine to see what the hell was happening here.

John knew exactly what this was. (Y/N) was a hunter who hunted demons and banished them back to hell. Bruce was officially in the dark now. His beloved, his significant other was a hunter? Who went after demons?

Bruce didn't know how the hell he was going to explain this to his kids. How can you explain something like this? Bruce analyzed every part of the apartment, trying to figure out what happened.

He saw that (Y/N) had a knife, but was threw around the room. Then he was put through his glass coffee table. Bruce sighed quietly as John looked through the books.

" This is an amazing collection. " John commented as he looked through the books and the weapons.

" Is that really important right now? " Bruce snapped at the man and John just shrugged his shoulders.

" I guess not, but I know people who would kill for this collection. Bruce, he has knowledge of the single handedly one of the most ancient languages in the world. I can only count people on one hand that know this language. " John explained.

Bruce sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

" I think I know why they kidnapped your partner. " John said as he picked up a book. Bruce raised his brow in question.

" The cult that took him wanted some translations it seems. " John said as he opened and old, leather bound book, more interested in the book at the moment.

" That's not good. I'm assuming he will resist... They are going to torture him. " Bruce said solemnly, eyes darting around the apartment.

" We will put the bookshelf the way it was. Maybe they were after the books and weapons. " Bruce said and John sighed as he put the book where he found it and then did what Bruce asked from him.

From that day, two months passed. Bruce and everyone else worked tirelessly to find their favorite person. Bruce his boyfriend, soon to be a fiancé, the boys their second dad, one that is more emotionally open and Alfred needed one person who is going to be somewhat normal.

Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin when he got a location. They boys and him piled into the batmobile and drove as fast as the car allowed it.

To say that they had to fight their way in was an understatement. Alfred was anxiously waiting in the cave.

Bruce nearly died when he saw (Y/N). Bloodied, bruised... Bruce didn't want to know the specifics. He picked his beloved up and moved to the car and he made sure to call the SWAT team from GCPD, alongside a few more organizations.

The cult deserves it, okay? Was he over reacting? Maybe.

But that didn't matter now. What mattered is the fact that (Y/N) is taken care of and is alive and well.

To say he drove like a madman... Would be the biggest understatement of the century. Once they came, they rushed their favorite person to Alfred.

Time was of the essence.

Bruce waited for his boys to finish talking to their second dad. (Y/N) had awoken and although still weak, he still talked to his sons. After 20 minutes, Bruce ushered them out, making them all protest a bit, but in the end they knew that they need to go.

Jason hugged his dad, very carefully and left. Dick kissed his dad's cheek and Tim squeezed his hand. Damian hugged his second dad before leaving and the two partners are soon left alone.

" I'm sorry for not telling you the truth... But it was too difficult. " (Y/N) said and Bruce kissed his cheek softly.

" Don't apologize. I understand that. "

" I'm assuming you found my base? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce nodded.

" John said you have a collection people would kill for... This is such shit timing, but would you like to move in? " Bruce said and (Y/N) snorted, but stopped because of his ribs.

" Yes, I would love nothing more. "

Bruce kissed (Y/N)'s cheek again. " Good. I'll leave you to rest. "

" Can you stay with me? "

Bruce smiled and nodded, changing into his PJs before gently laying down next to (Y/N), wrapping him into blankets and the two quickly feel asleep.

The two were finally reunited.

[petriwriting]

Vero amore - Theodore Nott X Reader (Part 1.)

Summary: Theodore is on trial for being associated with voldemort due to his father and family history, His odds arent looking so good. Luckily for him you are called to the stand to testify on his behalf, and you just might be the key to his innocence.

Fluff, established previous relationship, Exbf!Theo, Older!Theo and others. Post hogwarts.

A/N: My first longer(ish) story. Let me know if you want to be tagged for part 2 and if you like it overall, I always like feedback! also if it is poorly edited I will go back and change a few things here or there. nothing major though. Please heed my warning this will have a lot of time jumps and memories but it will all make sense in the end promise. (Mini Series is now a WIP)

Italic is memories

"This could be the end of me." 

Theodore sighs in defeat, he is exhausted, and takes a swig of butterbeer to calm his nerves. The years past had not been kind to the man, his shoulders were low, as if they were fatigued from carrying the weight of the world had weakened his posture. His eyes had sullen dark circles beneath them, and his hair was long and un-kept. There was a cigarette between his fingers, it was unlit, but waiting patiently. He wasn't so much nervous, as he was ready for this to all be over. He was more than ready to leave his family's reputation in the past and move forward to better things. He was slightly jealous of Draco Malfoy for that reason, Draco had even become much more acquainted with Harry Potter after the war, leaving his reputation in the past now as a mature adult. Theodore felt partially he hadn't matured enough, and that he was still the boy who was stuck in his 6th year. It was a harsh adjustment for everyone, but Theo was completely alone now, with his father pronounced deceased shortly after the war and an estate left to him. He was an only child, his mother was gone. He pushes away all his friends for the most part and had not bothered making new ones... Theodore Nott was a mess. With one hand holding the beer bottle and cigarette, his other hand found its way to his pocket, pulling out a tiny black stone, rubbing it between his fingers to self soothe. 

"Let's not be too dramatic." Blaise says, with a slighty comforting tone. luckily for Theodore, Blaise had been helping him through his depression despite his best efforts to push him away. It was an effort that was silently appreciated. "I doubt Y/N would lie to the council, especially since it happened so many years ago." He said, standing at the other end of the kitchen island looking over at Theo. 

"Well, considering my behavior... I broke their heart. I wouldn't honestly wouldn't be upset if they did, Maybe I deserve it.." Theodore said, running his hand through his messy curls. 

Things had been tense for him lately. The ministry began investigating all those who were suspected to be involved with Voldemort's operations, one by one. Some trials were famous for their unhappy endings, others not so much. With Theodore Nott being his father's son, he was one of the first people to be questioned, going through the lengthy process of trying to prove his own innocence. His fathers action had ruined his son's reputation. Of course many of his friends had tried to speak on behalf of his good character, but the court's jury still seemed unconvinced. They had called you to the stand to testify for him, and he was utterly terrified. Although some may argue that the odds were stacked against Theodore, with the trace of a dark mark still plaguing his arm, Though others stand to believe he was innocent. Many of his friends had gotten through unscathed, although due to his father's high esteem, Theodore felt conflicted and angry. He knew it wasn't right to put you in that position, especially after all the time that has passed. Being a pureblooded slytherin associated with all things evil, the cards were not exactly in his favor.

"Well, let's hope for the best, shall we?" Blaise says, after pouring himself a small glass to toast with Theo. They had managed to stay relatively close throughout the years, despite all the chatter.

*Clink. 

"thanks, I'll need it." Theodore says, finally lighting his cigarette.

.    .    .You were relaxing one evening when a stocky brown barn owl nearly crashed into your window, with it came a letter with a familiar silver wax seal. The ministry of magic. You were quite alarmed, as you had no reason in particular to be contacted by them. Was your wand permit expired? or maybe there was some urgent matter to attend to? These questions flooded your mind as you carefully opened the letter. It was a summons. "You are hereby summoned to testify in court regarding the alleged innocence and character of Theodore Nott."  Readinghis name made your heart flutter. 

You had to stop in your tracks, taking a deep breath. You would be in the courtroom, testifying on behalf of your old ex-boyfriend from your school days. You could not believe it. The rest of the letter was a blur, something about instructions and court behavior expectations and what not to bring. You and Theodore had had a very Illustrious history together. He was your first love after all. It was all you could think about, for days on end until the court date finally arrived. It felt like months of sitting and waiting in anticipation and anxiety. Your mind turned over every interaction you had that would somehow frame you in a bad way, you were scared they might open a case on you just for the affiliation. Part of you, maybe even the tiniest part, felt that this was some kind of fate. Perhaps you were simply destined to relive the past, even if it was some of the most painful memories, maybe you could finally progress and heal after this.

You ran your fingers over your hair, readying yourself for what was about to come about, how it could all blow up in your face, or worse... You simply had no idea what to expect. You didn't even know what Theodore was up to these days apart from the slight mentions you overheard from friends and gossip. Aside from everything you were scared to face the man who broke your heart.

With a sigh, you apparated to the ministry's main office. Rushing past you were business men and women, Aurors, and some office workers. everyone seemed in a hurry, which didn't help your heart rate at all. It was beating fast as the seconds ticked on by. You scurried through the busy halls to the elevator, you were instructed to meet outside courtroom Ten, on the tenth level. You approached the doors steadily although nervously. You were waiting to be escorted into the main room. This level was so silent, almost as if it was void of any people at all. 

Someone in a plumb robe appeared, with a soft smile. It was a much older woman, something about her was oddly comforting. "Alright love," she said, sensing how nervous you were. You were fixing your collar for the third time. "No need to be scared, You'll see a bright light, then I will escort you to your seat." she explained. "Very simple." you nodded along. You could feel your heart-beat in your chest, wanting to run away or apparate somewhere you were familiar with, but you managed to keep yourself collected. 

It wasn't that you were scared of the court or being sentenced, you knew you were innocent and that you had nothing to hide, but you were anxious about seeing Theodore. The clever and mischievous boy you fell in love with may not be in that room, he may have changed completely. You were scared of that change. For you, it was devastating, He was your whole world and you loved him with all your heart, but you were starting to think that you must not have been the same to him, as after the war he had moved away from the city with blaise, Never even bothering to send an owl or talk to you. You tried to justify it, maybe he had his own reasons. He was going through a lot, without a doubt. above all you were scared you would fold under the pressure of being on the stand.

"Alright dear." the old woman whispered, taking your arm. you were led into the hall, it was dark. The woman was truthful about that bright light, it was blinding, like a spotlight. You could feel the enchantments that had been done in this room, there was a fuzzy, but calming feeling washing over you. The jury were all dressed in the same robes, sitting in near rows of curved benches that opened up into a central clearing, where there was a large chair on a podium. That must be where they would question people, you thought to yourself. The bright light began to disappear more and more as your eyes adjusted, as most of everything else was dark. The Wizengamot stood, everyone followed suit. you were standing on the sidelines with your escort, there was so much going on you almost didn't see Theodore sat across from everyone. There were two Aurors on either side of him and he was in restraints. It pained you to see him treated like a criminal, especially after seeing how gentle he really was. He looked older, still as handsome, but tired. Exhausted even, with dark circles under his eyes and his curls a mess atop his head. For a moment, you saw him and your heart skipped a beat.

"Witches and Wizards of the court, we are gathered today for the testimony of Y/N L/N on Behalf of Mr. Theodore Nott. shall the information and insight given to us today be conclusive, we may not need perpetuation of this case."  The wizengamot says. "We will proceed with a brief summary of our evidence, and our trial shall commence with Mrs.L/N's Testimony."

A small, short stubby man wanders up to the front of the jury to recap the evidence. He explains the case in short detail. Theodore was being accused of being affiliated with his father's operations, and since his father worked for Lord Voldemort the evidence was conveniently stacked against Theodore. The first piece of evidence was Theodore's dark mark, and the jury had apparently stated that this was a choice made by Theo, although you knew deep down it wasn't. The second piece of evidence brought up from collections was a broken time turner, you could clearly recall the memory of this. Although that was the only physical evidence against him, The other witnesses were named. One of them was a Slytherin student who had a class with Theodore, but you quickly realized whatever she had said must have been against his innocence, since it was someone Theodore rejected countless times, and he even left her alone to pick up a project worth most of their grade during fifth year granted, he did have a good excuse it didn't matter. The other witness was named Theodore's neighbor, an old man who had been acquainted with his father. It was clear the old man hated the Nott family, having lived in silent hatred next to the Nott manor for many years. And then, the final witness was you.

After turning the thoughts over your head, and imagining all possible outcomes you realized that they were about to try Theodore Nott for an affiliation with Death Eaters that was not his doing. Theodore was about to become a criminal  .  .  . 

You knew in your heart that this wasn't right. It was unjust. You would be guilt ridden for the rest of your life if you didn't at least attempt to unravel these lies. You could disprove most of the evidence anyway, you also knew that it might not be enough. Your escort stood behind you as you stood on the central platform to be seated for the jury. The same man who spoke before and welcomed everyone to the trial turned to you. "Mrs. L/N," he said, you gulped and took a shallow sigh. "How do you wish to proceed?" he asked you. 

You looked at him for a moment, and then back to the jury. They seemed like they didn't particularly care about being there. Without thinking much, "I would like to request to present my memories as evidence." you said. "Very well." the man replied, receding back into the room. At this time, you had to be sure you were providing the best evidence even if it meant showing everyone in that courtroom your most vulnerable moments. It was a brave gesture. 

After a few moments of silence, some Aurors emerged into the room with a Pensive. A small silver bowl with runes and symbols carved on the inside and outside, within it contained a shiny silver liquid. It was placed in the center of the room. The Auror approached you, asking for your permission before proceeding with extracting your memories. You had read about this in school, but you had never seen one let alone used one for yourself. He placed his wand up to your head, twirling gently. You felt a tear escape your eyes, it wasn't painful, but it felt like a sudden rush and headache. The Auror added the memories to the silver bowl, and in almost an instant it began to glow.

"Mrs. L/N," one of the jury members began. "are you sure you wish to proceed?" they asked, you nodded quickly. 

You took a deep breath as you looked into the bowl, It was enchanted to allow everyone to see your memories, and the glowing ball of light sprung up to illuminate the center of the room, within it was your memory.  .  .

[guaxinimraccoon]

Agora, a pergunta q nn quer calar: por que o Toby roubou o livro?

MEU DEUS eu achei que já tinha dito isso em algum lugar, mas dei uma procurada aqui e nada de achar o link disso pq eu NUNCA EXPLIQUEI DJKSKJDSKJDS MALZ bora lá

My bud here asked a very important question: why Tobias stole a very sacred and important book?

The short answer is: because Tobias has a curse and he wanted to find a cure.

OMG HOW- calm down, first things first.

As I said before, when Alex and Elisa started to take their relationship more seriously, Alex would hang out in the Colony using a shrinking potion and preteding to be an imp. He was well accepted as one by Elisa's fellow imps and fairies and they never had many problems with his disguise.

But there was this one, powerful, envy fairy who took notice that something about Alex was... off.

She started to do her own investigations and ended up finding the truth out: Alex was no imp, but a human in disguise. Although, to her, this was actually very good news.

Why? Because this fairy - Irwalia - comes from a family that has been preaching an ancient propecy over a century now. Said prophecy omens that, one day, a being with the strongest of souls - a fairy soul - and the strongest of bodies - a human body - would be born to free the Colony from it's decades of war.

There are a lot of fairy families that preach this prophecy till this day, but all of them are taken as delusionals by most of the Colony's inhabitants. It's impossible to have a being that has a different soul from it's body, it just can't happen. But they hold onto their beliefs firmly regardless.

When Irwalia learned the truth about Alex, she couldn't help but be ecstatic: she had finally found a human inside the Colony's walls. And, if SHE was the one who discovered him first, then she must be the one meant to give birth to this prophetic child… right?

In a vengeful and spiteful spirit, Irwalia decided to not report Alex to the Colony's authorities, but instead take her anger out on what the human and his imp wife treasured the most: their only child.

Alex and Elisa didn't took long to find Toby, afterall she wanted to take her revenge in front of them...

Irwalia cursed Toby with something that not only breaked Alex's heart, but made the child defenseless if he ever encountered a human: if in close proximity to a human, Toby is completely unable to do any kind of magic.

This may not sound like a big deal, but imps, especially imp borrowers, take great advantage from their magic abilities to protect themselves from the sight of humans and their malicious intents. And, of course, Toby would never be able to obtain his full magic potential (which he has a lot of) around his own father.

Aside from all that, his hair is now bright blue, a side effect of the curse that makes it difficult for him to hide from humans and dangerous animals.

Toby grew up not being allowed to leave the Colony EVER because of his curse. So when he became an adult, after getting involved in a lot of trouble inside the Colony, being the little thief and vagabond that he is, he thought-

Unfortunately, he never had the chance to actually seek a cure for his curse in the book because he was discovered for his theft before that, yeah, it was all kind of pointless, he truly sucks at hiding.

Huh, I also wonder why it worked...

[e-dubbc11]

Still?

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of guns and gunshot wounds, smexy imagination (f! Receiving oral), mentions of death, a few tears, smooches, alludes to sex

Word Count: 3.9K-ish

Summary: After a run in with a shapeshifter and the local police, you end up with a bullet wound that you can’t patch up yourself. You call your best friend that you haven’t seen in a couple of years and that you’ve been in love with since you were kids

A/N: Spoilers for anyone that’s never watched the show, or watched past season 5. This takes place a couple of years after the apocalypse and Sam goes into the cage with Lucifer and Dean shows up at Lisa’s door.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

Your escape hadn’t been easy but you managed to get away and with only one bullet wound courtesy of the local police. Of course they didn’t believe you when you told them that the “person” they were tracking wasn’t you, it was only someone who looked exactly like you.

The shifter would have to wait, you needed this bullet out of your oblique muscle now but you weren’t going to be able to get it out by yourself and there was no way you could go to a hospital with your face plastered all over the news.

But you were alone without anyone to call. Well, that’s not exactly true, there was one person you could call but you did not want to see him. However, what other choice did you have?

After checking into a motel outside of town (they probably hadn’t seen the news yet), you texted him.

You awake? I need your help.

It was late so you were surprised to see the three dots immediately appear underneath your message.

On my way. Text me your location.

You gave him the address of the motel and he wrote back that he was about 40 minutes away so all you could do was sit and wait.

The sky had been in a vengeful mood all day and finally after a particularly loud crack of thunder, the sky split in half and you could hear the rain hammering against the roof and pelting the hoods of the cars outside your door.

Hoping it wouldn’t impede his arrival time, the incessant rainstorm dumped buckets of rain leaving massive puddles in the parking lot and the runoff water sounded like a waterfall falling into the storm drain.

After you sent the text, he was all you could think about…Dean Winchester. He was your childhood friend, fellow hunter and the man who’s had your heart ever since you were kids…although he didn’t know it.

**********

You met Dean, his brother Sam, and their father John when you were 12. Dean was 14 and Sam was 10. You and your mother were crashing at Bobby’s for a couple of days after a particularly draining hunt for a vampire nest.

The only familiar voice coming from downstairs was Bobby’s, but there were also three others so you decided to investigate while your mother was still sleeping off your first big kill.

Creeping down the stairs, you tried to make as little noise as possible and as you peered around the corner, the cutest boy you had ever seen was directly in your line of sight.

He was wearing a brown leather jacket, had light brown hair, eyes the color of summer grass, and a sprinkling of freckles across his nose. Immediately, your heart started beating faster and you felt flutters in your stomach. You were smitten.

Suddenly, the stairs creaked underneath your feet, they all turned and saw you standing there staring at all of them with a nervous smile on your face. Your heart was beating even faster now, heat rushed to your cheeks, and the palms of your hands became very warm.

You remembered you had just gotten out of bed after a long nap so you nervously and absentmindedly started to smooth your hair and adjust your clothes while averting your gaze from Dean to your Henley shirt and jeans.

“Well look who’s awake. C’mere, sweetie, I’d like you to meet some friends of mine.” Said Bobby.

Feeling your knees beginning to shake, you slowly walked over to them, and stopped next to Bobby. Your eyes darted back and forth from Bobby back to the Winchesters as you gave them a slight smile and wave.

“Y/n, these are the Winchesters. That’s John, Dean and Sam. Y/n and her mother are resting here for a couple of days after a vamp hunt.” Bobby stated.

Dean looked a little surprised to know that you were a hunter too but learned quickly after a few hunts together that your mother taught you well. Also, after meeting your mother, she and John went on to have a brief relationship. Sometimes, they left the three of you behind to go off on their own hunts so you got to know Dean and Sam very well.

It was just nice to have friends in a “profession” where you normally worked alone.

You helped them anytime they needed you to and they would do the same for you. The three of you had been through a lot together, losing the only parents you had left, helping them track down the yellow-eyed demon that killed their mother, and trying to help Sam get Dean out of the pit of hell.

As you grew into adults and while on hunts, there were plenty of shared motel rooms, literally being in tight spaces, listening to the water run while he was in the shower, wondering if there were eyes on the other side of the door as you changed clothes…your sexual feelings for Dean were growing stronger too and you had gathered up the courage to maybe finally tell him.

But then it all vanished like air from a popped balloon.

You weren’t there when it happened, you were off on a hunt of your own but Bobby told you about Sam getting locked in the cage with Lucifer. Knowing that Dean must be devastated, you tried to call but there was no answer. And the next time you called, a woman answered which prompted you to quickly hang up.

“I didn’t want this for ya, kid.” Bobby had said, trying to console you.

Fresh sobs escaped from your throat. “Why didn’t he come to me, Bobby?!! He’s my best friend and he went to someone else?! She doesn’t know him like I do! She doesn’t know the life!” You cried.

Bobby was like a father figure to you and he tried, he really did but he didn’t know what to do to try and make it better.

“I know, kiddo. I know.” Bobby said softly. “I got somethin’ to tell ya, though. We need your help.”

Confused by the term “we”, you swiped the tears away from your cheeks and heard the front door open. Sam walked in and they both explained everything that was going on, how they’re purposely leaving Dean out of it because he was happy living a normal life which just made you sad but you agreed to help hunt down a powerful group of djinn that was after the boys for killing one of their own awhile back.

They were closing in on Dean. They stalked him, caused him to hallucinate, see things that weren’t there which is when Sam and Bobby decided to pull Dean back into it and that was when you had to walk away. He was already on your mind all day every day but you couldn’t see him again. It hurt too much, he hurt you too much.

But the brothers were back together again, you were saving people and hunting things by yourself which probably wasn’t a great idea but you’ve hunted alone since your mother’s passing. Now, you’re stuck outside of a shit town and waiting for the best friend you haven’t seen in over two years to come and help you.

What were you going to say to him?

Well, you had about 20 minutes left to try and figure it out.

**********

You could hear the low growl of the Impala and as it grew closer, the growl became a rumble before it stopped completely when Dean turned off the engine. The room was completely quiet; you didn’t have the tv or the radio on as you sat at the kitchen table carefully listening to the drumming of the rain up above you and trying not to wince at the pain in your side from the bullet. Then you heard the signature door squeak as it slammed shut, followed by five loud raps against the motel room door.

“Sweetheart, are you in there? Open up!” Shouted Dean over the rain.

“Sweetheart?” You whispered to yourself. “He has a lot of damn nerve!”

Turning to face the door, you yelled out, “IT’S OPEN!”

Dean stormed through the door.

“Are you nuts?!!” He yelled, coldly.

“Jury’s out on that one, Winchester. Lock the door behind ya, will ya?” You replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

He glared at you. “Leavin’ the door unlocked, y/n…seriously, what is wrong with you?!”

You closed your eyes, shrugged and frowned in his direction.

“Alright…show me what happened. I heard your name all over the news…shapeshifter?” Asked Dean.

You nodded and showed him the wound on your back, right on the love handle.

“You sure the bullet didn’t come out?” Dean asked.

“Uh yeah, I think I would have noticed if I had another hole in front, Dean!!” You yelled through gritted teeth.

“Well you don’t have to yell at me! I’m here aren’t I? Actually, I’m surprised you texted me, Sam busy or somethin’?” He asked with a sly smile on his face.

“You know he’s working on something else so don’t play dumb with me Dean Winchester!” You hissed.

He was frustrating you to no end and he’s been there for five minutes.

“Get this bullet out of me now before I bleed out all over this floor!” You said.

Dean pointed toward the bathroom.

“Ok, ok, get in the bathroom, hands on the counter but before you do that, you’re gonna have to inch your pants down a little.” He said.

Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words.

“U-uh…y-you want m-me to do what?”

“Just inch them down a little bit; they’re just gonna be in the way if you leave them in place.” He said.

Dean set up everything he needed to extract the bullet on the counter. The only anesthetic he had with him was alcohol which took away only a fraction of the pain whether you were drinking it or pouring it on the wound.

The look on your face could have scalded paint off of the walls and your voice was tight with anger as you weaved a web of profanities so obscene, you would have probably made a sailor blush. Dean had finally managed to get the bullet out intact, stop the bleeding, and put a bandage on the wound.

“Thank you.” You said sheepishly as if you didn’t just spend an hour cursing his very existence.

Another sly smile stretched across his lips as he finally replied, “You’re welcome, sweetheart. You have some sweats or somethin’? Jeans are gonna be too harsh to rub against the wound.”

You did have some in your bag that was on one of the beds.

“They’re in my bag. I’ll get them.” You said starting to walk out of the bathroom.

He held his hands out in front of you, “Whoa, no…I’ll get them, just stay right here.” He said.

With your hand resting on the counter, you tried to take the weight off of your left side while Dean ran out to the other room to get your sweatpants. The bullet wound was really quite painful.

He set the sweats on the counter, inched closer to you and reached for the waistband of your jeans.

“Hey, hey…what are you doin’? I can do it myself, ya know.” You said in a scolding tone.

He folded his arms across his chest and with narrowed eyes, and asked with a smirk “Oh really? Ok, well I’ll be right on the other side of that door. Call me when you need my help because you will.”

He tapped you gently on the nose.

Scoffing at him, you tried your best to get your jeans off and put your sweatpants on but the pain was just too much. You were definitely going to need his help.

Softly, you called out to him.

“Deeeeeean?”

You could feel him smiling on the other side of the door.

“Yessssssss? You need some help in there or somethin’?” He asked in a semi-taunting voice.

Deflated, you replied, “Yes please.”

Dean slowly opened the door with a wide smile on his face, walked toward you and once again reached for the waistband on your jeans. Gently, he inched them down your thighs, all the way to your ankles before he had you rest your hands on his shoulders so he could take them off completely. If he only knew what this was doing to you.

He was eye level with your core, looking up at you through his long lashes with those beautiful green eyes of his and all you could think about was what it would be like to have his face buried in between your thighs, tasting you, and tongue fucking you until you see stars.

“I still can’t believe you fight monsters in a thong.” He chuckled.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you replied, “Oh my god, not the time! This is SO not the time for that!”

He laughed at you again as he gently pulled the sweatpants up, being careful not to touch your bullet wound, until he was gazing down at you fondly with a slight smirk on his face.

“Come on. I’ll help you to the bed.” He said.

After easing you down onto the bed, Dean started to gather everything he brought inside with him to bring out to the car.

You caught yourself staring at him. Actually, it was more like staring AND clenching. You’ve been in love with Dean Winchester since you were 12 years old and he’s never even tried to kiss you but you’ve wanted him to every single time you have been in the same room with him. He was all you had ever wanted.

As he continued to gather his things and clean up, you finally asked him with a hitch in your voice, “Why?”

“Why what, y/n?” He replied, still shoving things into his bag.

Tears stung the back of your eyes as you answered.

“Why did you go to her and not me after Sam went into the cage?! WHY?!” You asked. “I thought we were best friends, Dean!”

Stunned, Dean knew you weren’t going to let him leave without giving you an answer but the dejected look on his face told you he knew he made a huge mistake cutting you out like he did.

“I-I don’t know, y/n. I really don’t know. I got in the car and I started to dial your number but I stopped myself because I didn’t want you to see me like that! I didn’t want you to see me broken and hollow, ok?!” He said.

“So you went to someone who doesn’t even know you like I do? Doesn’t know the life? Doesn’t know that this life took the people that we loved the most in this world away from us?!! What kind of comfort could she have been to you?!!” You yelled. “Oh wait, nevermind. I actually know the answer to that one.”

“HEY! That is NOT fair!” Dean growled back.

“Oh you wanna talk about fair?! I called, texted, called again…one of those times, SHE answered your phone and I gave up after that. But you didn’t bother to call me back, EVER!! How fuckin’ fair is that, Dean?!” You sobbed with tears streaking down your cheeks.

You could see it in his eyes how angry and hurt he was. Dean’s lips were pulled tight in a straight line and the muscles in his forearms immediately tensed before tightly clenching his fists. He was trying his hardest not to snap back like you knew he wanted to.

Dean then shakily placed his hands on the back of a kitchen chair, leaned forward, and stared down at the floor for a minute before bringing his gaze back up to you.

“Look y/n, I guess I went to Lisa to feel better about myself knowing that I could protect her and Ben, to make up for not being able to protect Sam. You’ve never needed me to protect you, even when we were kids so I just went to them instead where I knew I could be of some use.” Said Dean.

Fighting back your tears but failing miserably, you replied, “When have you ever not been useful, Dean? All I wanted was to comfort my friend, my BEST friend, help you figure out how to get Sam out of the cage…something! But you didn’t give me that chance, did you.”

With his eyes shut tight, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a low growl. You knew the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you but it was too late for that. Over two years had passed since you had seen him last but not a day had gone by where you didn’t think of him, miss him, or not love him. You thought maybe those feelings for Dean would eventually go away, but they never did and they never will.

You were young and it was a childhood crush, it should have gone away but those feelings for him just became stronger as the years passed so when Bobby told you Dean was with someone else it felt as though someone was crushing your heart inside your chest.

That dull ache would never go away and it became a sharp pain as soon as he barged into your room tonight. Seeing him again brought all of those feelings back to the surface, made your entire body tingle, and you wanted him more now than ever before.

The only people that knew your true feelings for Dean were Bobby and your mother. She knew from the minute she met the Winchesters that you had eyes for Dean.

Bobby only found out after he told you about Lisa but you made him promise not to say anything which he had kept tight to his chest until his passing. But you were unsure if Dean had any idea about your feelings for him.

“When have you ever NEEDED my help, y/n?!” Dean asked in a raised tone.

You replied, “NEEDED? Never, I’ve never NEEDED your help or anyone else’s help but I’ll always WANT it! I’ll always want…”

A lump formed in your throat as you finished your sentence.

“You…I’ll always want you, Dean.” You said with trembling lips.

“Say that again.” Said Dean.

Your heart lurched into your throat as you tried to get your words out again. With a deep inhale and a forceful exhale, you told him again.

“I always want you, Dean. I always have.” You finally said.

You could practically see the words bouncing around inside his head like in a pinball machine.

“This is gonna sound really cheesy but I’m tipsy from those shots of whiskey so here goes nothin’…I have never wanted, nor will I ever want, anyone else except you, Dean Winchester. I’ve been in love with you since I was 12 years old, no matter how many times I���ve tried to push it away, no matter how many times I told myself it was ‘just a crush’, and I even told myself that you’d probably never love me back. I still love you!” You said with conviction through tears and a slight nervous chuckle.

“Son of a bitch…I need to sit down.” He said, pressing his palm to his forehead and planting himself in one of the kitchen chairs.

You started to get up off of the bed.

“Lemme get you some wa—“ You started to say.

Dean held out his hand to stop you.

“No! Don’t you dare get up. You’re the one with the bullet wound and I’m just a clueless asshat apparently.” He said.

That made you laugh.

Cutting through the awkward silence, Dean said, “I really can’t explain what it was, what I felt but something happened to me every time I saw you smile, every time you laughed, or hugged me, and even when you poked fun at me. I knew that I never wanted to NOT hear your voice, feel the extra squeeze at the end of your hugs, or see your eyes light up when I walk through the door. Even when you’re pissed at me like earlier tonight, your eyes never lie, you’re STILL happy to see me.”

“Dean…” You started to say but he cut you off again.

“I think that’s why I could never really be in love with Lisa because I was already in love with…you.” Dean said in a low gravelly tone.

His words made your stomach drop, those words that you never thought you would hear other than the love you shared between friends, but he was in love with you too which made your heart soar.

You wanted to go to him so you tried to stand up but again he stopped you.

“Whoa! What did I tell you about getting up, huh? Just stay there. Now what do you need? I’ll get it.” He asked.

“I need you to kiss me, Dean.” You replied in barely more than a whisper.

He stood up, slowly walked over to the bed and gently helped you up to standing.

“You ok?” He asked softly.

You nodded as he titled your chin up so you were looking up into his green eyes. With his hands cupping your cheeks, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. Dean’s tongue swept your lower lip before parting them and pressing it against your teeth wanting desperately to tangle with yours.

He pulled you flush against him as your arms snaked around his neck and he continued to kiss you hungrily while the ache between your thighs felt like it was going to explode.

Great…what a time to be wounded and in pain.

Dean loved to hear his name fall from your lips over and over again as he kissed up and down your neck and you loved to say it like a favorite song you had memorized all of the words to. You let your fingers glide through his hair as his lips collided with yours again and he whispered again and again how beautiful you were.

You always wondered what this would be like, to have his lips on yours, his calloused hands touching your body, caressing your face, telling you that he loved you and it was everything you hoped it would be; it was the best kiss of your life.

He accidentally got too close to your wound as he moved his hand to your lower back.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You said wincing in pain.

He apologized profusely.

“Oooh shit! I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…for everything.” He said as he gently brushed your cheeks with his knuckles.

You gave him a warm smile and replied, “It’s ok, I still love you, Dean.”

He kissed you again, his lips were soft and tasted like dark roast coffee; you never wanted him to stop.

“Still?” He asked with a wink.

You winked back. “Still.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the tip of your nose. “I always will.”

“Always?” You asked, biting back a smile.

Dean licked his lips before kissing you again.

“Always.” He said with a sly smile. “I’m taking you back to the bunker with me and when you’re all healed up? Plan on not leaving my room for at least a couple of days. I’m gonna show you how much I love you, over and over, and over again.” He purred in your ear.

Heat rose to your cheeks, you felt delightful sparks run down your back, and choked on the lump in your throat.

“Well…until then, can you just kiss me over and over and over again?” You asked.

He replied with a warm smile, “I think I can do that, baby.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @vaguekayla @stoneyggirl2

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @deans-spinster-witch @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

[yandere-sins]

just read your yandere! könig and it's adorable. 💕 curious, how would he react if his s/o is suffering from a fever? He finally sees them so needy, so peaceful, and when he places the back of his hand to check for their temprature?? his hearts is doing flips because they are voluntarily leaning into his touch (!!!) also, how would he act if he was sick? love your yandere works 💕💕

Thanks for requesting ♥ In sickness and in health, amirite? >:3

»»———————— ♡ ————————««        

♡ Of course, König is extremely worried after finding you coughing and sweating in bed, the blanket wrapped around you painfully tight as you complain about the cold in the apartment. It's unlike you to be vulnerable around him, even though König always tells you to relax and take it easy, he'll protect you. But when he reaches out to touch your forehead, skin burning against his calloused palm as you let out a long sigh before merely leaning into the touch, it's him who's melting by your side. Finally, it's his time to shine. Finally, you need him to be the big, strong protector and carer he knows he can be for you.

♡ If he learned anything from his childhood, then there are a lot of good remedies against your symptoms. A nice, warm shower is the first thing he orders for you, though when he notices your lack of strength, König is more than happy to draw you a bath and wash you himself, drawing out the process for as long as possible until your short from collapsing. After that, he's merrily humming as he puts you into his oversized hoodie, situating you on the couch for a moment so he can change the bedding.

♡ The tea water is boiling by the time he helps you back into bed, closing the window again after letting fresh air replace the old, your feet covered with his oversized, knitted socks. Once König gathered all that is needed—tea, water, and medicine—he sits by your side, ensuring you have a sip of everything while he watches your drowsy, feverish eyes slowly close before you return to sleep. He reaches out again, and a serene joy fills him as he pushes the hair out of your face, watching you nuzzle his palm in search of cooling your fever. He stays like that for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet, even more love for you spreading all throughout him. You are always amazing, but like this, it feels like he's experiencing a wonder.

♡ However, he knows what he has to do. Even if it hurts to part ways, he eventually lets you rest, making sure you are covered properly before leaving the room to allow you to heal in your sleep. All while he's on his way to fetch some chicken, soup veggies, and noodles for when you wake up. Once you open your eyes, you'll already hear the boiling of soup in the kitchen, König almost fainting as you come inside, disheveled and sickly, the blanket hanging off your body but looking so, so adorable. Like someone needing help. His help. He could watch you for hours as you investigate the concoction he's making. Still, even if you scrunch your nose at the thought of food, the real magic only happens once he serves you his soup.

♡ One bite, and you can't stop. König would have watched you scarf down the whole pot he made for two days, but after eating his portion as well, you seem full and a bit more lively. It returns some of the grumpiness you always show him, but you are suddenly overcome by energy as if you hadn't been knocked down for the last few hours. König doesn't mind. He carries your clothes after you as you discard them, reminding you to stay warm even as you scoff at him, a smile always playing around his lips as he sees you feeling so much better already, thanks to him.

♡ Eventually, your fever catches up to you, and you end up exhausted on the couch, barely able to watch the movie he let you choose. It doesn't matter what you want to see. Even the most cringe teen movie is good enough for him as long as he gets to watch it with you. Considering you slowly but surely lean against him, though, König doesn't try to stop you. You need your sleep, and he's glad to be your pillow. You don't even notice him pulling you into his lap, rubbing your back while the movie plays in the background as you fall asleep in his arms, but thanks to that, you also don't complain about him carrying you to bed with him, whispering his well-wishes and love confessions in your ear after he slips under the sheets with you, not afraid to catch your cold. It's nice as long as it lasts, and König knows he needs to treasure these moments. So while you allow him (unknowingly) to always be by your side, he takes the chance to do just that.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

Warning for Sexual Innuendo at the end

♡ While he might not catch your cold, even a strong soldier feels worn out occasionally. Given, his immune system is just as strong as he is, but König also suffers from a particular kind of sickness once he's under the weather... the man-flu. And yes, he's a huge, whiny baby about it.

♡ "Won't you take care of me, mein Schatz?"

♡ "Can I have a hug, please?"

♡ "Urgh, this is the worst. Don't leave me, please..."

♡ You might be able to run and hide from him for a while. Still, eventually, König will come to find you and drag you back to the couch or bed with him, forcing you into the little spoon so he can nuzzle his face into the nape of your neck or breathe in your smell as much as his nose allows. Somehow his shyness seems to go out of the window when he feels like "he's dying". He's just a big baby.

♡ Since you can't make him food, he'll order some for you guys, being very lenient in letting you get whatever you want. He'd order for you normally, but he's feeling too sick to do it. He just catches you from writing "I need help! I'm kidnapped!" in the comment box and sends it with a long groan of discomfort, but there's still some yummy food awaiting you, at least.

♡ If you do take pity, he'll be happy to drink whatever you get him. (If only he had sleeping pills accessible to you, right?) However, König insists that you praise him for taking sips and also drink from his cup to "prevent you from getting sick too". He also pulls you into his lap while you're holding the hot cup of tea, laughing it off when you burn him (which is a little disturbing).

♡ But in the end, needy as he is, you can't even escape him when he's sick. You go where he goes, be it the bath (even just to brush your teeth so he can lean against you since he's feeling "lightheaded") or the bed (meaning you just lay awake for hours while he smothers you with his body). I suppose it's nice he's a bit more honest with his feelings as he conveys that he needs you and to not fight him anymore, okay? You can try, but his grip around your wrists is still as firm as when he's healthy. So while he snores away, you simply have to endure being captured by him again, hip pressed to hip, as you feel the hints of a fever-boner poke you. But you're safe!

Until he wakes up.

[kohabielnin]

Truth & Inference headcanons working together

It's been a while since I wanted to put down on paper all the knowledge I have about the Truth & Inference universe, so… here it is

D.M/Désire Mélodis

• As a famous nobleman and art teacher, in front of others he treats you well and pleasantly, not so much when behind closed doors,

• He often sends you on missions with Noir or simply to come if Gatto is okay,

• Even though it doesn't seem like much, he actually cares about you, always teasing you and things like that,

• If you stay in the same environment as him, Noir and Tuberose, the only one who will defend you will be Noir because both Tuberose and D.M will provoke you,

• D.M is like a devil in human skin, but anyway he thinks you are a very important person in his life and will take care of you,

• He often likes to show you off as his, even though you are just an employee at his service, he is very proud of the little mouse he has in his hands

Gatto/Aesop Carl

• Gatto is by no means a person who enjoys company other than four-legged furry ones, but after so long he has learned not to care so much about you,

• Cat and the other kitties seem to just love you, so it makes Gatto feel a little better around you,

• Both you and him share the fear of being left alone with Tuberose,

• As you have a degree in chemistry, he usually asks for your help when he has some difficulty in an experiment,

• Usually trusts you to make his coffee and look after Cat while he's away,

• You are the only person he trusts to tell you that he has been leaking information about D.M to Sir Inference and you don't really care about it, but you still promised to keep it secret from the others for the safety of the Silent Rebel

Tuberose/Jack

• As soon as D.M told him that you would be his partner, be sure he held back a lot until the day he could have your confidence to tease you,

• Generally he likes to talk about Lady Rosemary and you can be sure that this conversation only ends when you end up sleeping,

• Even though he is an idiotic provocateur, he is very kind when he wants to be,

• As I said, he has his moments of kindness, presenting you with flowers, but then he goes back to teasing you again if he sees your face flushed,

• Pray you never have him and D.M in the same room, they both love to tease you,

• We all know that Tuberose is a hot man, and he clearly knows that so the normal tease he uses on you is just how you look at his six-pack on display.

Noir/Saphir Mélodis

• You and him always worked together because you both wanted to, not at D.M's request,

• Since you've known each other since you were children, it's as if you two can read each other's minds and that helps a lot when it comes to getting your hands dirty,

• It's not just him who has a certain affection for you, Leon your falcon also likes you a lot and likes to receive affection from you,

• D.M lets the two of you stay together because he says Noir is happy in his company and performs great on missions when he's by his side,

• Of course, not everything is a bed of roses, after all, there isn't a day that goes by that Tuberose doesn't tease you because of his childhood relationship with Noir,

• In the same way that Tuberose provokes you, Noir always appears at the right times to save you, of course, not before giving beautiful answers to Tuberose

Lady Truth/Emma Woods

• You, her and Mr. Inferece met at the orphanage and have been together ever since.

• She is very affectionate and dedicated to her two childhood friends, so there won't be a day that goes by that you are sad that she doesn't try to make a smile appear on your face,

• Unlike Mr. Inference, she is not as serious and is more relaxed, trying her best to make the agency's atmosphere light,

• She loves to surprise you with her favorite snack at least one day a week, it only changes when it's your birthday week which is every day and on your birthday she throws a surprise party for you,

• When it comes to investigations, she relies heavily on her deductive potential, so while she looks for clues, she usually lets you come up with the line of reasoning to solve the case,

• Once a month she changes the flowers in the vase on her table, always to her favorite flowers.

Mr. Inference/Naib Subedar

• He always saw you as a little brother/sister,

• Even with his serious demeanor, he cares a lot about you and often asks if you're okay,

• When the two of you are alone, he often shares his concerns about D.M.

• Usually you, him and Lady Truth go to events as guests and you can be sure that you are the only person who can calm him down when they meet D.M,

• D.M, in turn, really likes to provoke the detective and you, which clearly doesn't come very cheaply to the count,

• As your relationship with him is long-standing, you understand each other without needing words and he also trusts your deduction a lot.

White/Saphir Mélodis

• He is always extremely affectionate with you,

• You two haven't known each other long, but you feel like you've known each other for a long time,

• His owl also loves to sit on his shoulder and receive affection,

• He usually sleeps at work, according to him it's a nap to work better, but he usually keeps muttering things like "I really like your company" and things like that while he calls your name in his sleep,

• On his days off he loves going out with you to a park and being able to sleep under a tree on your lap, according to him it's a moment of peace for him,

• There's no denying that he's extremely cute, and sometimes he uses that to his advantage to get your attention.

[yukikogazingthestars]

“Oh, I guess that’s the way things go”

Dazai being dazai and his s/o wasn't too happy this time

fluff and angst/ verbal bullying (if you squint)/ Dazai is a little bully here/happy ending

Oh, Dazai is the world number one bully. He is mischievous, playful and even goes far to do harmless pranks. Kunikida is having high blood pressure and Atsushi has to fry his brain to understand Dazai’s strange jokes. But,the most miserable victim is his naïve and airheaded S/o who never knows or has a clue about what Dazai is doing or saying. Dazai loves seeing his S/O try to use all of her brain to understand what he is saying. She is struggling and even steam comes out from her head. But, in the end, she has to give up and asks him what he was talking. Dazai laughed and pinched her cheeks, calling her ‘’DUMMY, MY PRETTY DUMMY "and he will explain his jokes or his puzzles while he was still grabbing and pinching her cheeks. “Please stop, you’re hurting me” said his S/o while she was trying to remove his hands on her cheeks. But Dazai won’t stop. Instead, he would squash her cheeks and kissed her pouted lips telling her that how much he enjoys kissing and squashing her.His S/o scolded and struggled him but, in the end, she also loved to be bullied by her beloved brunette man. She would cry a little and Dazai will be, “Awwn, is my pretty dummy crying? Shh shh”and he will shower her face with a lot of kisses. “You are a meanie, bully”. She would scold at him while she was being showered with kisses and Dazai replied with giggles and more rough kisses.That is their daily routines that everyone in the ADA neglected. But his S/O sometimes suspected if Dazai is just teasing her or he really means that she is dumb. Of course, she knows she is not as smart as him, but, her brain function pretty well, and she can even solve mysteries in life-or-death situations. That has been annoying her mind for a long time. She met with Fyodor in her last job where she has to investigate a murder case. When Fyodor learned that Y/N is Dazai’s girlfriend, he decided to mess with their relationship, so he planted some doubts in her mind. He would gladly watch Dazai and Y/N breaking up and Dazai in great mental distraction with a sip of tea. Fyodor kinda found Y/N is cute, and a little dumb but he knew she couldn’t be manipulated easily since her mind is strong and her IQ is above average so he can only implant a little doubt. “If he really cares or loves you, why does he make those mean comments?“asked Fyodor when he heard Dazai is calling Y/N Dummy on the other side of phone. (OH GOD, THAT RAT’S WORDS ARE MESSING IN MY HEAD) She cursed in her mind remembering the event that happened last week. Y/n is feeling unwell today. Headache, mentally exhausted, hungry, energy drained, period cramps and not in good weather.It was her time of month and she sighed trying not to annoy herself. She overworks today since she couldn’t catch Fyodor that day thanks to her distraction. “Y/N channnnn” There Dazai is, rushing to her desk, putting his one of his hands on her shoulder and putting his chin on her head. His other hand is hugging her waist. Dazai is as usual, clinging on her and talking about his assigned job.She couldn’t fully concentrate on his talk because of period cramps and stress but she didn’t show it since she didn’t want to make Dazai sad just after a tiring job. “So, who is the culprit in this case” Dazai asked. Since Y/N didn’t pay attention in his speech, she couldn’t grasp small detail from the case and she is now too immersed in her current report, so she simply answered,” no“and put all of her focus on the report again. Dazai laughed in his signature pose and he hugged her tightly while he called her,” Of course, you won't know, My little dummy”. He even hugged tightly her waist and it pushed her to her limit since she had been working under period cramps and stress all day.

SHE TRIED SO SO HARD AND HER LOVER IS CALLING HER DUMB AND DIDN’T EVEN SEEM TO NOTICE HER HARDWORKING.

“WHAT IS WREONG WITH YOU? OKAY, IF YOU FEL SO SO UNEASY WITH ME, LET’S BREAK UP”

She screamed, pushed him away, left the office and slammed the door.

Everyone in ADA watched the drama with horrifying and surprising look since it was the first time they have seen the lovebirds (especially Y/n) to be in a fight. Thanks to Fukuzawa and Kunikida away for the meeting. If they were here, Dazai and Y/n will be reprimanded for not being professional in their workspace.

Dazai was shocked by his always sweet and lovely S/O out bursting but he suddenly realized that it was his fault, so he ran after her. Well, they aren’t the same universe with those Bollywood movies and Y/N is afraid of being cut off her salary, she didn’t run away far. Instead, she just visited Uzumaki café and ordered hot chocolate big cup to smoothen her tired mind and body. She sat down, closed her eyes and massaged her temples to relax the tensing nerves. Suddenly, the sofa sank, she felt warm, and a pair of warm hands hugged her warmly and securely. A soft kiss landed on her cheek.

It was Dazai.

A familiar fragrance of perfume soften her heart and she felt warm and wanted to cry, yell at him but she decided to ignore to get more affections and princess treatment.Dazai saw the token which was written “hot chocolate “on it and he realized it was her time of the month and she was clearly in pain, but she was trying really hard. He felt more guilty and remorse.

“Dear, I was wrong. I didn’t realize that I was hurting you. I am sorry”

“Go away “she pushed him but softly and gently.

Dazai sighed and lay down on the sofa, put his head on his S/O’s plump laps.

“What the hell are you doing? Get off me!”

“I am so sorry Y/N.” Dazai apologized again. Y/N knows this soft tone of his. He was really sorry and controlling himself not to cry. His gaze looked so painful and so regretful, so Y/n decided to forgive him. Actually, she also can’t be angry for too long. So, she gently rubbed her lover’s brown and silky hair and flick his forehead.

“Buy me hot chocolate and brownie and I’ll forgive you”

Dazai scoffed and nodded,

“As you wish”

''You are such a bully" She was tracing his face with her soft fingers'.

"But I still love you and I guess that’s the way things go"

[fatuismooches]

HII SMOOCHES OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM AHH OKAY I GOTTA CALM DONW, uhm so can I request like Dottore and segments with fragile reader who went outside without telling them? I imagined that reader went out to the market to the park or shop and stuff, and Dottore or the segments were worried when they realized that the reader were gone so they went out to find reader and when they come back to the lab they scold the reader a little bit but it’s out of worries but the reader weren’t scared or afraid cause they think it’s cute how the segment or Dottore were scolding reader out of worries, I JUST THINK ITS CUTE SOMEHOW CAUSE DOTTORE AND THE SEGMENTS WERE SEEN AS A HEARTLESS PEOPLE BUT WHEN IT COMES TO READER TEHY DROPPED EVERYTHING FOR THEM, ANYWAYS I LOVE YOU SMOOCHES I HOPE YOUR DOING WELL BYE BYE💗💗💗

It had been an impossibly long time since you had to deal with your illness, but over time, there were times Dottore was able to stabilize your condition enough to allow you to enjoy normal things more easily. One such thing was leaving the lab to enjoy the beauty of Snezhnaya. Very simple, but so fun for you, who had been deprived of such things for so long. It had taken a long time for Dottore to be convinced to let you go, still cautious about your health, (now that was an understatement) but in the end, you won (of course). Always, there was a segment or one of your friends accompanying you though. But this time, Bina couldn't come to pick you up, and it seemed like all the segments were too busy to even bother - wrapped up in the middle of an experiment or meeting... well, this was an issue. You really wanted to go! You had plans! Well, maybe if you return quick enough they wouldn't notice? If they did... that's it, you'd just tell Zandy to tell them the situation. And you'd take lots of Fatui agents, yes, everything would be okay.

And it was great! You made it and had lots of fun by yourself and with Bina... exploring the frosty nation and picking up a few specific ingredients you wanted for some recipes. Very fun. Unfortunately for the group of blue-haired scholars back at the lab, nothing was okay. One worried segment had turned into two into three into all of them who were currently flipping the lab over to discover where you could have gone. For themselves and also before Prime terminates one of them for not watching you properly. (Zandy had fallen asleep for a nap before he could convey your words.) All while you were none the wiser.

After very much scoping out every inch of the huge lab and discovering you are actually gone, for once they manage to work together flawlessly and it takes them no time to start investigating and discovering your exact coordinates. You may have succeeded in escaping their radar for a little bit but, you can't underestimate their tracking skills.

When you're entering the carriage to go back home and the original Dottore is there inside waiting for you, you nearly lose your footing. Needless to say, you have a lot of explaining to do...

You can tell he isn't exactly angry at you, just a bit annoyed but out of worry for you. Yes, he can understand why you did it, but you still need to be more cautious than that! What if your condition acted up and no one could help properly? The long lecture from him and mostly the older segments is thoroughly embedded in your brain, and although you feel bad, you can't help but think it's cute, how much your crazy lovers care for you this much.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 35

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 5972

Warnings: Dean being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Premonition, A look inside the PP&P, tense situations, Intimate moments - nothing too detailed, lots implied.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 35

With no premonition to implicate the leak, Missouri had to go through official channels, coordinating with the local police department. Charlie had made copies of all the evidence while also setting up the transport for Walker. He would be going to a different lock-up than Cole. The further away from each other the two were, the better. Both women knew it was going to be a long day, but if all went how they planned, it was going to be worth it. Henrickson and his team kept an eye on the leak, discretely, of course.

The same team that managed Cole’s transfer dealt with Walker’s. Another airlift, as it was the easiest to ensure that there wouldn’t be any incidents. Missouri would have chosen to stay and watch with her own eyes as he was loaded onto the helicopter, but she had other matters to attend to. The police station was a hub of organized chaos, the kind that only those familiar with the system could decipher. Phones rang incessantly, officers bustled from desk to desk, and voices overlapped in a constant hum of activity. To an outsider, it might seem like pandemonium, but Missouri recognized the rhythm of a well-oiled machine. 

Federal intervention had been an option, and it still might end up going that route, but right now, that was far too slow. The feds would demand their own investigation, layers of bureaucracy that Missouri couldn’t wait for. This needed to be handled immediately, and if the locals were quick and efficient, that was good enough for her—for now.

Missouri approached the front desk, her calm demeanor cutting through the station’s noise. “Detective Ramos,” she said, her voice carrying just enough authority to grab the officer’s attention.

The officer nodded and picked up the phone. Within moments, a stocky man with salt-and-pepper hair appeared, his expression unreadable. “Missouri,” he greeted. “I don’t typically see you in our neck of the woods.”

Missouri couldn’t waste time with pleasantries today. “Can we speak in your office?” Her tone was tight, the folder thick with evidence held carefully in her hands.

Ramos raised an eyebrow but didn’t question her urgency. He motioned for her to follow him, the two heading to his office. The noise of the station faded as the door to his office closed, leaving the two in tense quiet. 

Missouri took a seat in front of his desk while he took his behind it. “Alright. What’s going on that you need my help?” he asked, only a hint of curiosity making it into his question.

She handed him the file. “I need you to make an arrest. If we could handle this internally, we would, but there are no premonitions surrounding this issue. I need it done as quickly and discretely as possible.” she explained.

He gave her a concerned look before he began flipping through the pages of the file. Typically, an investigation would be launched, then they’d get a search warrant, then they’d go arrest him while they did further investigating. Page after page of detailed information, phone records, payments made to Gordon Walker, five innocent girls that had their lives stolen from them, and so much more. Missouri had brought him more evidence than he usually saw after weeks of work.

“Where is he now?” Ramos asked, still thumbing through the papers and having a hard time believing anyone would deliberately do something so cruel to anyone, even given his own profession.

“He’s in his office on the third floor,” Missouri replied. “I’m not sure if he’ll try to run. Please take precautionary measures. The Collection Team is on standby if you need more men.” 

Ramos leaned back in his chair, debating his options as he glanced toward the glass walls of his office. The station was bustling with officers, most of them good at their jobs, but Missouri was right—this needed discretion. An arrest like this, mishandled, could compromise everything.

He let out a slow breath, tapping his fingers on the desk as he weighed his options. “Alright,” he said finally, his voice measured. “I’ll handle it. Keep your team ready, though.”

Missouri nodded, relief flickering across her face. “Thank you, Detective.” As Ramos stood and watched the officers outside his office, Missouri headed out. This was only the beginning. By the end of the day, the truth would emerge, and the PP&P would be under new management.  

—---------------------------------

Hours later, you were wrapped up on the couch with Dean, tangled in each other with very little clothing between you. The bunker felt like a haven, its walls keeping the chaos of the outside world at bay. A movie you’d both seen a dozen times played in the background, but it might as well have been static. The steady rhythm of Dean’s heartbeat beneath your cheek and the soft circles he traced on your arm lulled you into a rare state of calm.

It had been hours since you’d spoken to Missouri, partially curious about what was going on with the things you saw in your premonition, but you pushed it away, focusing on Dean. Being close to him had a way of drowning out the things that wanted to consume you. 

Dean kept feeling how your emotions fluctuated from completely relaxed to slightly tense and then back to relaxed. He knew your mind kept wandering, but it wasn’t the spiral it had been. Still, it was progress, enough to allow him to relax and his mind to wander. At the moment, he was daydreaming a little about how things would be when the two of you could leave the bunker and have a normal life.

In his daydream, you had insisted he move in with you within the week. The two of you were like teenagers, laughing while he chased you around the house with either the threat of tickling you or tackling you against a surface just so he could hear those delightful sounds again.

During work at the garage, he’d steal moments with you, kisses away from the prying eyes of the others. Bobby would yell at him to focus on the job and not on you, which would just make you giggle. The boys would give him a hard time, but he wouldn’t care. He had you.

Then, he’d find the perfect ring after saving up, finding you something simple but that said everything he couldn’t, and he’d plan the whole night—dinner, dancing, then when dessert was brought to the table, he’d get down on one knee and ask you to marry him. You’d have tears in your eyes, but you’d say yes before he’d slip that ring on your finger.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” you asked suddenly, shifting just enough so you could look up at him, furrowing your brows a bit at how distant he felt.

He took a deep breath, holding you just a little closer as he met your gaze, a content smile finding his lips. “Just daydreaming,” he chuckled quietly, not quite sure how you hadn’t been able to see what had gone through his head, but thankful nonetheless.

“About what?” you persisted, now curious.

All he could do was smile down at you, getting lost in your eyes and the curiosity that swam in them. “You’ll find out,” he whispered, leaving a tender kiss on your forehead. When you pouted, he couldn’t stifle his laughter. “God, you’re adorable,” his words played through your mind, no longer in that whispered tone but in the way he would have said them if he had spoken them, making you blush. “Tease,” you quipped back playfully, enjoying the lightheartedness of the moment.

“Maybe,” he teased back, pulling you closer, his arms a sanctuary you didn’t want to leave, grateful that today, you didn’t have to.

You hummed, closing your eyes as a content sigh escaped your lips. Home, the only way you could describe the feeling of being in his embrace. It felt like it had been so much longer than a week and a half since that day at Crowley’s when you’d let Dean in, allowed yourself to connect with him, and accepted him as your soulmate. 

It was something you couldn’t put into words and wondered if you’d ever be able to. You glanced over at the movie playing in the background, a soft smile curving your lips as you basked in the warmth of his body behind yours. Thoughts of after leaving the bunker crept into your mind, questions swirling in the quiet space between you.

Would he go back to his parents? Would he come over and hang out all the time? Would he sleep over sometimes? Would he want to be affectionate in front of other people? Would things change at the garage since you were technically his boss, under Bobby and John, of course?

They were questions you didn’t share through the bond, not quite ready to broach those topics. Your fear was nothing like it had been before, and for that, you were grateful. Now, it was more of a nagging worry, teasing the edges of your mind.

“You’re in your head again,” Dean murmured, his lips brushing against your hair as he tightened his hold on you in a small, grounding hug. A reminder that he was there, and your worry began slipping away again.

You started to apologize, “Sor—,” but caught yourself. The memory of his last teasing threat, to kiss you silly if you said it again, made you reconsider. Instead, you let a mischievous grin play at your lips. “It happens. I’ll work on that,” you replied with a soft sigh.

His quiet chuckle rumbled behind you. “I know,” he murmured, knowing that when you were ready, you’d talk to him or just share what had been going through your head. 

For now, though, the two of you were content in each other’s arms as the movie played in the background. The outside world didn’t need to exist for either of you. It was these moments you’d both treasure—how it all began before it grew into something no one could take from either of you.

—-------------------------

By two o’clock, Ramos and his team pulled into the parking lot of the PP&P. It had taken some finagling, but he’d managed to get things sped through the tedious lines of red tape for a case like this one. This had to be done by the books, no mistakes, no cutting corners or he knew that the leak could get out on a technicality. 

Missouri watched from Charlie’s office as the police cars pulled up and the officers stepped out, making their way inside. “You think he’ll cause a scene?” Charlie asked from her side, watching the officers as well.

“Hard to say,” she sighed. “I never thought he’d betray the oath of the PP&P.”

Charlie looked up at her, a frown on her lips, before going back to her desk and pulling up the surveillance feeds. That girl could hack into anything. “Walker tried to fight the guards when they took him out on the landing pad,” Charlie began filling Missouri in on the events she missed while she’d been at the police station.

Missouri turned, eyebrow raised, “Did he?” 

“Yup. Kept going on and on about being wrongly accused and that he’d get a lawyer,” Charlie chuckled.

An amused smile found Missouri’s lips before she joined Charlie behind her desk, looking down at her laptop. On the screen, Ramos and his team moved through the building with quiet efficiency. No one stopped them—everything had been planned too well. Different members of the Collection Team had been stationed discreetly throughout the building in key locations, as that just in case. Even with the tension of what was about to happen, Missouri was relieved. 

Ramos and his officers stopped just outside the director’s office. The golden letters on the door confirmed they were in the right place. He took a slow, steadying breath before pushing the door open. The man behind the desk startled at the intrusion, not expecting anyone, eyes wide with surprise.

“Chuck Shirley, you’re under arrest for violating your oath as director of the PP&P,” Ramos said, his voice firm as the other three officers moved with practiced precision, closing in to restrain him.

Chuck’s shock melted into fury as he sprang to his feet. “What the hell are you talking about? This is bullshit! I haven’t done anything!” he shouted, his voice rising in indignation.

One officer calmly read him his rights while Chuck continued to flail, his denials quickly turning to threats. “This is a mistake! You’ll regret this!” he bellowed, his voice carrying down the hall.

But his struggles didn’t deter the officers. Ramos kept his expression neutral, his focus unshakable as the team efficiently secured the director and then began leading him through the building. The walk to the parking lot felt longer than it was, with every step drawing more eyes. The office staff, save for the Collection Team, wore varying expressions of shock and confusion. Whispers followed the group, a ripple of uncertainty spreading as the police paraded Chuck past his colleagues. Missouri had kept everything quiet, only telling those that needed to know. Charlie leaned back in her chair, shaking her head in amusement at how Chuck was behaving.

“Who would have thought he’d act like such a child?” Charlie mused, smirking at Chuck’s flailing tantrum on the screen.

Missouri had to admit that it wasn’t an expected behavior from the man who had been in charge of such an important facility, but she didn’t respond to Charlie. His behavior now was jarring, but it wasn’t what unsettled her. Something else tugged at the edge of her mind, a feeling she couldn’t ignore. This just felt bigger, and Missouri knew that only one woman had the answers she needed. Whatever it was was over, she knew that much now that Chuck was in police custody. She just needed to understand why so much had to happen before this point.

Within the hour, the entire staff had gathered in the largest conference room.  The atmosphere buzzed with curiosity and tension as the weight of Chuck’s arrest lingered. Henrickson had explained to everyone what had happened, leaving out things none of them needed to know. He’d have a private conversation with the new director, once she was sworn in.

Charlie stood in front of who would be the new director in only a matter of minutes, a woman who had proven herself time and time again for the company, the empaths, the innocents, and her coworkers. Kelly Kline was one of the sweetest women with a fiery streak and a heart of gold. Her expression was a mix of resolve and humility.

This wasn’t how she imagined herself getting promoted, but she wasn’t about to turn down the chance to help more people from this new position. This was her chance to enact real change, and she intended to honor it. She gave Charlie her full attention as Charlie led the oath, pausing after each line for Kelly to repeat the words.

Missouri watched from the back of the room, her arms crossed. Her mind was still focused on her thoughts, her suspicions, and getting to the bottom of it all. With the evidence against Chuck, she knew the feds would be called in, and within a week, Chuck would be in a federal prison without the possibility of getting out. 

As the oath concluded, the room erupted in polite applause. Kelly smiled warmly, a glimmer of determination shining through. But Missouri didn’t clap. She slipped quietly out of the room, her phone already in hand, making her way down and out to her car. This was a phone call that needed to be done in private or in person, and Missouri couldn’t wait the time it would take to reach the woman’s house.

The moment she closed the door of her car, she dialed the familiar number. It only rang once before the woman answered. “I know you want answers. Give me a chance to explain,” the woman asked, exhaustion of a different kind lacing her words.

“I’m listening,” Missouri replied pointedly, leaning back a little in her seat.

Pamela had known the call would come. She’d seen it too many times, dabbling in the threads that had a tendency to shift themselves often. “I know what you’re thinking. That everything could have been avoided if I’d said something sooner and given you Chuck’s name,” Pamela began, the typical playfulness of her voice gone.

“It had to be Y/N’s premonition to bring Walker in. I wanted to save all of them. I wanted to stop all of it,” she sighed, leaning forward and taking a sip of her whiskey to settle her nerves. She’d lived with the knowledge for years and hadn’t been able to act on any of it. “If Walker wasn’t Collected and transferred before Chuck’s arrest, Dean would have died, and Y/N would be married to Cole. I couldn’t let that happen. Not after everything she had been through, not with the warnings of what that future held.”

Missouri began understanding; even if it didn’t make it any easier, she understood her friend's reluctance to speak a word of the things she’d seen. “Is it over? Or is there something you don’t want to say?” she asked tenderly.

Pamela chuckled lightly, her gaze far off, watching something play out for a moment. “It’s over. Chuck will be in federal prison. Kelly is the perfect person for the director position. She’s going to bring many needed changes to the PP&P. Y/N and Dean will get the happiness they deserve that had been taken from them.” For a moment, Missouri mulled over Pamela’s words. “So, why did you tell them to stay in the bunker for three days after Dean’s birthday?” she asked quizzically, a hint of slight amusement in her tone.

“I figured they could use the alone time,” Pamela replied, her playfulness back in full force. “Just make sure you call her, let them know that it’s over so those two can actually relax.”

Missouri laughed softly at Pamela’s words. “I’ll make sure to let her know. Take care of yourself, and keep in touch.”

They said their goodbyes, and Missouri finally exhaled a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. It was over. Well, this thing was over. There would always be other things. That was how life worked. But for Dean and Y/N? They could finally have peace—no more looking over their shoulders, no more wondering when the next storm would hit. A relaxed smile tugged at Missouri’s lips as the tension slowly bled from her body.

—-----------------------

The soft buzz of your phone on the coffee table pulled your attention from Dean. His lips were on yours, his kisses lingering, sweet and unrelenting. Every time you tried to pull back, he followed, stealing another kiss, enjoying the playfulness of the moment.

“It might be important,” you murmured against his lips, the words losing their conviction as he coaxed another giggle from you.

“Mmm… whoever it is, you can call ‘em back,” he muttered, his voice low and warm as his hands slid along your sides, finding the spots that made you melt.

Your resolve wavered as his fingers traced over your skin, but something in the back of your mind whispered that this call mattered. “Dean,” you tried again, weaker this time. “I need to answer it.”

His lips left yours only to find the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He didn’t need to say anything, being able to feel just how much he was distracting you through the bond. You gave him a playful warning glare, but it didn’t deter him one bit. You reached for your phone, your hands fumbling as you tried to focus. “Hello?” you managed, trying not to get caught up in the way his lips felt along your neck or his hands on your sides.

“Hi, sugar,” Missouri greeted warmly, her voice carrying that familiar motherly tone. “I have good news.”

You giggled due to Dean’s hand nearing your hip, sliding slightly over your stomach. He wasn’t making it easy for you to pay attention, and he was enjoying every second of it. “Yeah,” you barely got out, using your free hand to try to stop his before he moved it any lower. All that did was make him smirk against your skin.

Missouri had a fairly good idea what the two of you were up to, and she didn’t intend to stay on the phone longer than she needed to. “It’s over. You and Dean are safe but heed Pamela’s warning. You’ll get some paperwork in the next few days. It was thanks to your premonition that all this was able to happen. You did good,” she told you proudly. “You did real good.”

The weight of her words hit you like a tidal wave, sending emotions through your body that you weren’t used to feeling—hope, relief, anticipation? You weren’t sure. 

“Really?” you asked in disbelief.

Dean immediately tuned in, watching you closely, his hands stilled their movements. Your emotions surged through the bond—relief, anticipation, and a hope that was brighter than he’d ever felt from you before. His heartbeat quickened, syncing with yours as he tried to make sense of it.

Missouri chuckled softly on the other end, “Yes, it’s over. We’ll be in touch.” And with that, she hung up the phone.

The line went dead, but you sat frozen, her words repeating in your mind. It was over. You were safe. The two of you were safe. The longer those words repeated in your mind, the larger your smile grew. Dean was trying not to be impatient, but it wasn’t like you were sharing your thoughts.

Dean’s hand brushed against your arm, his voice careful but steady. “Sweetheart?” he asked, trying not to let his own emotions get ahead of him.

Tears welled in your eyes, spilling over as you placed the phone on the table and turned to meet his gaze. Those green eyes you loved so much were full of concern, but they softened the moment you spoke. “We’re safe,” you whispered, emotion thick in your throat. “It’s over.”

For a moment, Dean just stared at you, his breath catching as relief began to take hold. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tenderly as your tears came freely. They were the best kind of tears with the best kinds of emotions. Even without the bond between the two of you, they were radiating off you in waves. You knew he was murmuring something, but you were lost in your thoughts and, for the first time, not being afraid. 

Dean just held you close, rubbing your back tenderly as he spoke softly. He hated seeing you cry, but these tears were different, and he understood that. It didn’t make seeing you cry any easier, though. The tension that always lingered in his body began dissipating as those words truly sunk in. 

It was over. 

The future he had daydreamed of with you was possible now. Your overwhelming fears were gone, and hope had blossomed in its place. As his happiness washed over you, you let out a shaky breath, trying to get your sobs to slow down. He gently lifted your head, brushing his thumb along your cheeks to wipe away the tears. You swore you weren’t going to cry more, seeing the love in his eyes as they scanned your features.

For a split second, he almost said it—almost asked the question that had been on his mind for over a week now. But he knew it would only overwhelm you. So, he decided he’d stick to his plan and work out the details another time. When a smile began toying with his lips, your expression softened. For the first time in your life, you saw a future that didn’t involve being alone or living in fear.

I’ve got you, his thought brought a smile to you as his lips ghosted over yours. Then, he tenderly pulled you against him again. Breathe.

You took slow, deep breaths, allowing his emotions to calm your racing heart and ease the last of the tension from your body. It was over. The thought repeated in your mind as you let out another breath, melting into Dean’s embrace. The truth of it wrapped around you like a blanket, and for the first time in your life, you let yourself believe it.

When he felt you completely relax, he smiled. Plenty of thoughts played through his mind, wanting to share with you his joy and his hope for the future. But right now, in this moment, he was just going to hold you. It was what you needed from him and he would give it freely. No words needed to be spoken. The movie that was playing, completely forgotten. 

The two of you spent the rest of the movie in each other’s arms. The evening was nothing but tenderness, peace, and love between the two of you. Dean wanted to get playful with you, hear your laughter, and see your eyes sparkle with every giggle. However, he knew that wasn’t what you needed tonight. You needed something deeper, something tender, something shared only between lovers. You needed what only he could give—a reaffirmation of those unfamiliar feelings that were blossoming inside you.

—--------------------------

The next morning, the room was dark but peaceful. You stirred, the weight of Dean’s arm draped protectively across your waist, his chest warm against your back, and his steady breath fanning over your hair brought a sleepy smile to your lips. There was no urgency to move away from him. It was over. 

Not wanting to disturb his slumber, you rested your arm over his, absentmindedly letting your fingers dance over the back of his hand before lacing with his. The slow rhythm of his breathing kept you nestled against him. I’ll never get tired of waking up like this. A quiet sigh of contentment slipped past your lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he murmured, his voice gravely from sleep as he pulled you just that much closer.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice just as soft.

Dean nuzzled his nose against the crook of your neck, finding that sweet spot and leaving a tender kiss. “You sleep okay?”

A quiet hum slipped past your lips as his woke your body in an entirely different way. “Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

You felt him smile against your skin, “Good. You deserve it.”

Just as he was about to let his hand wander along your naked body, the faint rumble of your stomach broke the silence. Dean chuckled, propping himself up on his elbow. “Guess that’s my cue to feed you.”

You rolled onto your back, meeting his amused gaze as your hand came to rest on his chest. Even in the dark, you could imagine the smirk playing at his lips. “Or,” you teased, letting your fingers trail lower, “you could stay in bed with me.”

Dean bit his bottom lip, a quiet groan slipping out. He knew he’d never get tired of the feeling of your hands on his skin or your body against his. Just as you reached his hip, he gently grabbed your wrist, effectively stopping you from going further.

“Breakfast first,” he told you, letting out a shaky breath, making you giggle.

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh, you think it’s funny, do you?” he asked in that tone that already had you giggling again, mischievous, teasing, playful. 

Dean pinned your arm over your head as he moved so that he was half lying over you, using his other hand to take the wrist he’d been holding. With that hand now free, he teased slowly down your ribs, leaving a trail of fire behind. Then, without warning, he began tickling you. 

“Dean!” you gasped between fits of laughter, squirming helplessly beneath him. 

The sound of your laughter filled the room, bright and unrestrained. It was music to his ears, and if it weren’t for needing to let you breathe, he might have tickled you longer. Dean kissed your cheek before flicking on the bedside lamp, smiling like a little kid as he climbed out of bed.

All you could attempt to do was catch your breath while giving him a playful glare. He laughed at how adorable you were while he slipped on his boxers. “I’ve got you all to myself for today and tomorrow,” he said, his voice low and suggestive. “Come on, I’ll get coffee going. Then, I’m making you breakfast.”

There was almost a skip in his step as he headed to the kitchen, his mind playing out all the things he wanted to do with you over the course of two days. It wasn’t like either of you were going to anywhere, and no one was going to come visit. That alone allowed his mind to wander while he started coffee, then breakfast.

You laughed softly as he disappeared out of the bedroom, wondering how you’d gotten so lucky to have him as your soulmate. Reluctantly, you got out of bed and pulled on one of his flannels, the soft fabric and his familiar scent wrapping around you like a hug. It was an odd sensation, not having to worry about anything. The peace from the night before still lingered, and you found yourself smiling as you joined him.

In the kitchen, Dean was already bustling around, wearing an apron he had found months ago in one of the drawers. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sight of him, spatula in hand as he flipped the pancakes with exaggerated flair. Seeing and feeling how truly happy he was brought that warmth to your chest, a feeling you’d never tire of. 

As you poured yourself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to watch him, like you usually did, you let yourself daydream of what life would be like after the two of you could leave the bunker. A smile toyed with your lips, your gaze on Dean while you sipped your coffee. Life was never always perfect, and you weren’t expecting that. It was these sorts of moments that you knew would get both of you through whatever new challenges life tossed in your path. 

Dean set a plate of pancakes in front of you, his own already piled high, gave you a quick peck on the cheek, and slid into the seat across from you. For a moment, you marveled at him, like you were really seeing him for the first time. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt it, and you knew you’d never let that go. 

“Eat up, Sweetheart. You’re gonna need your energy today,” he told you, waggling his eyebrows with that mischievous glint in his eyes again.

“Oh, and why’s that?” you mused, feigning ignorance before taking a bite of breakfast.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest as his smile reached both his eyes. “Oh, we’re gonna christen every surface in the bunker,” he replied, his voice dropping several octaves, sending that tantalizing shiver through your body.

Part of you was a little nervous at the thought of that, several different places in the bunker flashing through your mind. However, even with your slight nervousness, the tenderness that came through the bond, soothed it all away. I promise I’ll go slow.

His words brought a small, appreciative smile to your lips even if the butterflies were back, dancing a jig in your stomach. The things he’d taught you on his birthday barely scratched the surface of the things he wanted to do with you, but he’d be patient, taking things at your pace.

Dean kept to his statement. It started when you were halfway through the dishes. He’d been practicing the same bubble technique you had and was getting rather good at it, being able to surprise you. Something he hadn’t even mentioned was how he loved seeing you in his shirt. If it hadn’t been for the two of you needing to eat, he would have bent you over the table the moment he’d seen you in his flannel. 

There were just as many tender moments between as there were intimate ones. You’d never be able to look at the bunker the same again with the memories made in those two days. Dean kept track of how many condoms were left, wanting to make sure they lasted till the two of you could leave. Sometimes, he’d just tease you, endlessly, edging you for what felt like hours before he’d finally give in and give you the release you desperately needed.

With the leftover roast, neither of you needed to worry about cooking dinners, but he took advantage of every single time you washed dishes. It helped you see the bunker in an entirely different light. At first, it had been a requirement to be down there. God, that felt like so long ago now. It was a place to have to hide from Cole during a time when fear was all you knew.

Now, it was a place you could remember where you learned how to love, trust, and hope. A place where Dean had gone from being your friend and your rock to being a part of you. It held so many wonderful memories. Memories you never wanted to forget.

That second night, the night before you two could finally leave, your mind was full as he held you close. All those questions still wandered through your mind as the slight worry trickled through the bond. Dean pulled you a little closer, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“What’s wrong?” he asked sleepily, still worn out from the day but in the best way.

At first, you didn’t answer, not quite sure how to explain it. “Stuff,” you mumbled.

Dean furrowed his brow, “Wanna talk about it?” he asked softly.

Technically, yes, you did want to talk about it, while at the same time, no, you didn’t want to. You didn’t want him to worry like you were. That was about when you realized you never felt worry coming from him over the last couple of days. “Are you worried about how things will be different tomorrow?” you finally asked in an almost whisper, breaking the silence between you.

“No,” he answered without hesitation, and you could tell he was smiling again. “I’ve got you, and no matter what comes up, I know we’ll figure it out. As long as you’re smiling and happy, I’ll be happy too.”

So many things went through your mind with the speed of a freight train. It was everything you wanted to ask of him but weren’t sure how he’d feel about any of it. “I don’t wanna sleep alone,” was all you could manage to get out.

Dean gave you a loving squeeze and a tender kiss on your neck. “Then you won’t. Truth is, I don’t want to sleep alone either,” he replied softly, feeling your worry melt away.

Over the last several months, one thing he’d learned was that you had a hard time asking for the things you truly wanted. You hadn’t been sharing as many of your thoughts and he had a feeling why, but he wouldn’t push. This little thing had been your way of trying to tell him you wanted him close you, that you wanted him to move in. You just couldn’t bring yourself to say those words.

“Thank you,” you whispered, letting yourself finally relax to drift off to sleep. 

----------------------------------------- Epilogue

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If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[ummmlife]

realistic nanami's d analysis

warnings! ; nsfw (kinda) , headcanons (obviously) ; educational 🤓☝️

as a nanamin simp i've been reading and hearing about nanami's 9 inches manhood all over the internet and, honestly?, that doesn't sound accurate to me

something that happens to people who like nanami a lot is that they portrait him like a white man and, consciously or unconsciously, i feel that the 9 inch thing has been motivated by that current of thoughts

that's why i've decided to make a long research about the male genitalia comparing the average sizes all over the world, asia and finally, japan

of course, i did not give him a micro penis, but please don't expect the king cobra between this man's legs

i stress again the fact that this is my opinion and if you don't agree... well, there's not much i can do about it :)

context ;

for us humans, diversity comes in different styles of things, perhaps no topic elicits as much curiosity, speculation, and even anxiety as the dimensions of the male reproductive organ: the penis. from ancient myths to contemporary media portrayals, societal fascination with penile size permeates cultural narratives worldwide. however, amidst the myriad myths and misconceptions lies a scientific inquiry into the fascinating variations of penile size across different populations and ethnicities.

so, repeat after me: not every hot man has a 9 inches long d– / jk

in a comprehensive analysis conducted in 2020, researchers examined studies on penis size and determined that the typical length of an erect penis ranges from approximately 12.9 cm( 5.1 inches) to 13.9 cm (5.5 inches.) They suggested that the actual average tends to lean towards the lower end of this spectrum. (King, 2020)¹.

Another study indicated that the length for a flaccid penis was 9.16 cm (3.61 inches). (Veale et al., 2015)².

and that is what i’m basing my analysis (headcanons) on.

let's take a look on this chart (of dubious origin):

in this one we can see and compare the different sizes of the male reproductive system in different countries. if we look at it, japan has an average of 13.56 cm (5.3 inches).

investigating more in detail the male population, i managed to find that the average penis size in japan is about: 13.56 centimeters (5.33 inches), with a diameter of 3.53 cm (1.39 inches) at the head and 3.19 cm (1.25 inches) at the shaft when it's erect. (日本人の平均ペニスサイズが明らかに! | TENGA FITTING(テンガフィッティング), n.d.)³

knowing all of this, let's get into the heart of the matter that concerns us today.

his size ;

i'm using using this essay for a reference (since my humble self does not own a peewee) (男性器の大きさについて|大東製薬工業株式会社, n.d.)⁴.

to keep it simple:

erected :

length; 13.73 cm (5.4 inches) ~ 15.37 cm (6 inches)

girth; 11.73 cm (4.6 inches) ~ 12.73 cm (5 inches)

flaccid :

length; 9.73 cm (3.8 inches)

girth; 9.37 cm (3.6 inches)

the shape ;

i imagine it with a base a bit wider than the head (it gives fat dick ohohoho) and slightly curved up, the foreskin is still there and the skin is more pigmented there (#967a68). i can imagine a notorious vein coming from the base to the tip from below. his glans is paler than the shaft (#aa8483) and when it gets stimulated it turns into a #c96c60 shade.

nuts! ;

how do i say this?

they look heavy, somehow. also notoriously asymmetrical, the left one hangs lower.

is the carpet matching the curtains? ;

no, and this is my personal headcanon since I like the idea of ​​kento bleaching his hair since high school, from dark brown to his blonde tone he all see now. but if you don't think the same, it's alright, it doesn't affect anything.

he's hairy, everywhere, yes i'm also talking about his butthole!!

but he like to keep the hair trimmed and nice, not a crazy jungle of hair, since he also like to keep his face clean. it is a routine procedure that he does once every one or two months, always using an electric shaver.

so if you plan to give him head (or eat his ass, idk and idc), please expect to feel his pubic hair tickling your nose

+ his buns ;

his glorious glutes are made of 90% pure muscle, it also look squared shaped.

amazing, wow.

sources ↓

anyway, you don't have to take everything i wrote literally or personally, nanami is a fictional character and it doesn't really matter what his penis should or could look like. if you imagine him differently, great, i do too lol, my brain is never going to imagine him with some exact measurements or shape

hope you enjoyed my little essay on nanaken's penis :) it's the first time in my life that i talk so much about cocks lol

bibliography ;

1. King, B. M. (2020). Average-Size Erect Penis: Fiction, Fact, and the need for Counseling. Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy, 47(1), 80–89. https://doi.org/10.1080/0092623x.2020.1787279

2. Veale, D., Miles, S., Bramley, S., Muir, G., & Hodsoll, J. (2015). Am I normal? A systematic review and construction of nomograms for flaccid and erect penis length and circumference in up to 15 521 men. BJU International, 115(6), 978–986. https://doi.org/10.1111/bju.13010

3. 日本人の平均ペニスサイズが明らかに! | TENGA FITTING(テンガフィッティング). (n.d.). 日本人の平均ペニスサイズが明らかに！ | TENGA FITTING（テンガフィッティング）. https://www.tenga.co.jp/special/fitting2012/

4. 男性器の大きさについて|大東製薬工業株式会社. (n.d.). Copyright (C) 2015 更年期障害・勃起不全・早漏のOTC医薬品は大東製薬工 All Rights Reserved. https://daito-p.co.jp/essay/penil_size.html

[alovesongtheywrote]

nightmare academia puts me through the ringer EVERY TIME and i love it

♥ Summary: in a few chapters, it's gonna get worse!! for now tho... In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, case stuff ensues and you prepare for heartbreak. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: cops. cops being terrible, cops exploiting the system, and cops shaming a woman for being a sex worker. also, violence, implied violence, and past violence.

♥ A/N: holy shit, this chapter is Very Long

♥ Word Count: 4885

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

In the weeks that followed, Spencer brought the BAU to you.  Of course, not everyone could make it.  Kate Callahan was off raising her children.  Penelope Garcia was the target of several  hitmen (whereas Frank was probably the target of a single hitman.  Massive difference.  Trust me.)  And Derek Morgan remained at Quantico with Garcia- so you really weren’t sure what to expect.  The agents you had the strongest feelings about were out of commission.  The last time you’d met his team it did not uh, how would you put it?  End well?  So you were- justifiably- a touch guarded.

That changed. Eventually.

It started with Adam.  

At that point in the investigation, local law enforcement had only shown your friend cruelty, distrust, and skepticism.  Honestly?  You were about to start biting people about it.  (Yeah, maybe it would have gotten you arrested, but at that point, you did not care.  At the very least, biting would make you feel productive.)  You were well and truly prepared for Spencer’s law enforcement team to behave in a similar manner to the local cops- and to be honest, you probably should have been.  Most Feds would carry that same suspicion and distrust, and if they didn’t they were probably faking it to try and get a confession.  

The BAU, however, are not most Feds.  For several reasons.  Either way, you were well and truly prepared to maul the next person who treated your friend like garbage, fed or otherwise.  There was never a need.

The BAU showed Adam basic decency.  They didn’t talk down to him or dismiss him as a demeaning stereotype- and yes, that was the barest of bare minimum, but it was still something.  While they regarded him with mild suspicion for the first like, two minutes, it only took the team that same two minutes to come to the conclusion that Adam was innocent.  After that, the BAU was just as dedicated to clearing Adam’s name as you were.

“Adam had an incredibly emotional response when we mentioned Frank,” Hotchner explained to the local detectives, “He’s genuinely devastated by what happened.  He couldn’t have done this.  Even if he did attack Frank, it wouldn’t have been a clinical hit.”

“Emotions tend to make things messy- we would have seen something much more personal, with more violence and more remorse,” Rossi added.

The detectives did not listen.  The detectives did not care.  

“I’d say a gunshot wound is pretty messy,” one laughed.

“Yeah,” another jumped in, “Try telling the vic’ that things aren’t messy.”

You bit your tongue to keep from screaming, but you didn’t stay entirely silent.  If the detectives weren’t going to give a shit on their own, then you were going to make them.

“Have you actually?” you asked, crossing your arms, “Have you spoken to the victim?”

“Eh, someone else got around to it,” the first detective asked, looking at his partner with the special kind of uncertainty that came with getting called out.

“Did you read the report, then?”

“Well, I’m on the case, aren’t I?”

“Answer the question, detective.”

In the telling silence that followed, Rossi had to turn away to hide his (failed) attempt to suppress a grin.  Hotchner looked proud, despite not knowing you very well.  Spencer looked like he might grab you by the waist and kiss you until you were out of breath.  He didn’t, though, for lots of reasons- his boss was there, he hadn’t asked you if you’d like to be kissed, there was more serious stuff to focus on, and like… you already looked fucking pissed.

The detectives just looked embarrassed.  

“I- uh.  I’ve skimmed it,” the first detective stuttered out.

“Yeah, cool, not good enough,” you nabbed the case file from a nearby desk and pressed it into the officer’s hands, “Consider reading the report.  You’ll find that the victim disagrees with you.”

Both detectives stared at the file as if they were seeing it for the first time- as if they were seeing a file for the first time.  You sighed.

“Detective, if I may ask, how much overtime have you put in on this case?”  the man in front of you blanched at your question.  You would’ve laughed if you weren’t so fucking angry, “Cool.  I thought so.”

“Ough,” Rossi winced with faux sympathy, “Overtime?  And you haven’t even read the case file?”

“Hey, we’ve been very busy these last few weeks!”

The second officer nodded, “Just last week, we had five break-ins in the downtown area.”

“Alright, I’ll accept that,” you turned to leave before doubling back, “But before I go, I need to ask- do you care about the wellbeing of the break-in vics the way you care about this case?  Do you care about all victims so dearly?  Or do you treasure their testimony the way you “treasure” the testimony in this case?”

“What?  What are you saying, what do you-”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume it’s the latter.”  

“What?  Okay, what the hell do you know about police work-!”

“They’re an expert criminologist,” Spencer said, seething slightly.

“Dr. Reid is right.  I know a thing or two about crime- and if I’m just gonna put it this way.  I’ve seen the data.  I’ve heard testimony from victims and offenders.  I know the local and nationwide statistics for unreported crimes.  You’re concerned about the victim hearing that his case isn’t messy?  Look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never told a victim that their situation- their serious situation- was a waste of police time.”

The officers couldn’t look at your face, much less your eyes.  You had done what you needed to do.

“You wanna solve crimes?  You wanna be the hero?  Then take a goddamned ethics class, read your fucking case files, care for your community, and do your fucking job.”

The detectives tried in vain to defend themselves.  They were unsuccessful- especially in the face of the three FBI agents that immediately backed you up.

“Dr. (L/N) is right.  The number of unreported crimes will astound you,” Rossi said, smirking like the little shit that we all know he is.

“This is especially prevalent with sexual assault cases, theft and scams, and other crimes where the victim may feel a sense of embarrassment- or crimes where the victim feels like their case won’t be taken seriously,” Spencer added in a very Spencer-like way.

“And everything you need to know about this crime is in the file.  If you’d read it, you’d know that the victim is very insistent that your guy didn’t do it, and one could say that, oh, I don’t know, he’s a strong eyewitness.  He is the victim and all,” Rossi continued, getting their asses.

They struggled to respond, “Well- I-  We-”

“And even if you discount the eyewitness testimony, there’s still the matter of alibis and ballistics.  Security cameras have placed Adam away from the community center at the time of the shooting.  The ballistics aren’t a match to any weapon that Adam has ever come into contact with.  Even if they were a match, he hasn’t handled a weapon since his release from prison as a condition of his parole.  But if you had checked the file, you’d know that,” Hotch added, also smirking like a little shit, but with a slight edge to it- that edge, kids, is called “pissed off authority figure.”

“Hey, it-”

“It just sounds like poor police work to me,” Spencer had the biggest smirk of all- the smirk of a little shit who’s proud of his team and of his hot co-professor, “Had you actually done any of your research, you would realize that the suspect you have in custody is being held on police bias and circumstantial evidence.  Any good lawyer can get this case thrown out, and then where will you be?”

His smirk turned to a full grin when you shot him a small smile of your own.

The detectives continued to sputter out responses.  For once, the second one spoke, “Now, we may not be fancy FBI agents, but this precinct has a solid track record of convictions-”

“Were those convictions based on circumstance and bias?” Neither detective answered Spencer’s question.  He continued, “Even if this precinct had a perfect track record, that wouldn’t make it invulnerable to mistakes- and even if it did, you would still have the responsibility of approaching each case like professionals to ensure the wellbeing of victims, suspects, and families.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” you slid forward, putting a hand on Spencer’s arm, “Now if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go speak with the victim.  His name is Frank, by the way.”

And just like that, you pulled Dr. Spencer Reid away- and he did not resist in the slightest.  In fact, he held the door open for you as you exited the precinct.  Rossi was pretty sure he saw the kid get behind the wheel.

As the detectives scurried away with their tails between their legs, the older agent let out a long whistle.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say that our young Dr. Reid is officially smitten.”

“He was smitten the last time we were here,” Hotch said, pulling another copy of the case file from seemingly nowhere- one of his many unit chief powers.

“Yeah, yeah, but this time it’s bad.  Garcia’s gonna be mad that she didn’t get to see it.”

Hotch nodded, solemnly.

“Y’know, I think the three of them combined could probably take down the whole FBI.”

“You’re right,” Hotch snapped the file closed with a tiny little proud-dad-type smile, “We’re awfully lucky that they’re focused on something else at the moment.”

-

Missy got your guard to drop further.

Initially, she was hesitant to have the Feds drop in on Frank’s case- you both were.  You were used to local law enforcement treating her like shit.  You didn’t stand for it- every time a cop or lawyer so much as dared to look at her wrong, you bared your teeth like a damn dog and threatened to bite where it would hurt.  Y’know.  Lawsuits.  Missy wasn’t exactly a pushover, either.  She was one of the strongest people you knew, and you were well aware that she could hold her own.  If Missy wanted to be scary, she could be fucking terrifying.

Still, it was a little exhausting to fight all these battles against people in positions of authority who were so convinced that their series of events was correct, and anyone who went against it was nothing more than a lying ex-con.  Having the BAU in your pockets certainly helped with that.

“I already told you what happened.  I’ll tell you a thousand more times if I have to, but the story isn’t going to change,” Missy groaned, voice muffled as she buried her face in her hands.

“Okay, then.  We’ll go over your testimony again.  A few more times, if you don’t mind,” One of the local detectives smirked, ignoring the death glare you sent her way.

“Fine.  Frank was walking me to the community center.  I was taking a class on resume writing.  It was cloudy, not raining, but cold.  We came around the side of the building when a man in a leather jacket walked around the corner.”

“And what did this man do?”

“He- he shot Frank.  He tried to kill my-” she took a shaky breath.  You put a hand on her arm, aiming for gentle comfort and reassurance.  Missy nodded, letting you know you’d hit your target.

“Did you see his face?” The officer continued.

“No.  He was wearing one of those bike helmets that block off the person’s eyes- but I swear, it wasn’t Adam.  This guy was too bulky.  Adam’s made of wires, he needs to eat more.”

“You seem to have a lot of affection for Adam,” the detective leaned forward, “Now, we know you’ve claimed to be in a relationship with Frank- but could you describe your relationship with Adam for us?”

“I already said it!  I took a couple classes with him!  He’s a friend, that’s all.”

“Mhmm.  That’s all.  And in your previous line of work- the one that earned you a prison sentence of twelve months and a little over minimum wage- you had a lot of ‘friends,’ yes?”

“Excuse me?” your fingers bit into the table that separated you from the cop.  You had half a mind to jump over the thing and throttle the smug detective sitting before you.  

“What?” Missy growled, “You think just because I used to hook I fuck all my friends now?  I’ve taken a few classes with Doc (L/N), I haven’t fucked them!”

You nodded in solemn agreement.  The detective shrugged this off, ignoring everything that came out of Missy’s mouth.  When she spoke again, her voice rang with the faux pity of someone who held themselves leagues above Missy.

“You know, I can see why you were looking at writing up a resume- your old line of work is so degrading.  You know you’re never the same, afterwards.  You can never wash off the shame.  You’ll always be a little broken.  A little-”

“Okay, that’s enough-” you stood up, slamming your hands down on the table.

“Hey, fuck you, man-” Missy leaned forward, “Don’t tell me what hooking did to me.  You don’t know me.  You don’t fucking know.”

“And now you’re lashing out.  Poor thing-”

“Detective Foy.  A word,” Tara Lewis, a newer BAU agent who you hadn’t really had the pleasure of meeting materialized in the doorway like a perfectly timed ghost, ready to right some wrongs and keep you from committing a murder.  Her request for a word was perfectly intimidating, disclosing the not-so-secret secret that the request itself was not actually a request.  

“I’m sorry, Agent, I’m in the middle of an interrogation-” 

“It’s not an interrogation.  You’re questioning a witness.  Agent Jareau will handle things from here.  Now, a word?”

You and Missy watched as the detective slunk out of the room with her tail between her legs.  Moments later, JJ joined you, but she didn’t bother to start a line of questioning.  Instead, the three of you watched in giddy silence as Tara Lewis destroyed Detective Foy where she stood.  You couldn’t hear her through the glass, but you could vaguely read the words, “You are a police officer meant to serve and protect the people in your community, and uphold the law.  You should educate yourself on the law, and on what it means to serve and protect.”  On her lips.

You could’ve been off on that translation, but either way, it was sick as fuck.  By the time Tara was finished, you and Missy were barely holding back your laughter.  You probably would’ve held it in if JJ hadn’t turned around with a pleased grin on her face.

“Ok, well, I’ve known Agent Lewis for about three minutes, and already I adore her,” you cackled.

“Oh, she’s excellent,” Missy said, eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Well, we certainly like her,” Jennifer grinned, clearly proud of her teammate and happy to see that someone outside the BAU had taken notice.

A few moments later, Tara re-entered the room with a tired sigh on her lips.  It didn’t take her long to realize that you were all staring right at her.

“What?  What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, we just think, as a group,” you looked around like you were the leader of the world’s weirdest (and maybe coolest?) group project, “That you are, objectively, excellent.”

“Yep.  Not bad for a Fed.”

Again, you nodded in agreement, “I concur.”

Tara raised an eyebrow, slightly confused, “Thank you?”

Missy gave Tara a thumbs up.  You followed her lead.  Not really knowing what else to do in this situation, and figuring there was no harm in joining the madness, Tara returned the thumbs up.

“Well, like we said, we’ll take over the questioning from here,” JJ took a seat as she spoke.  Tara joined her at the table.

“So, after Frank was shot, did you see where the attacker went?”

“No.  I was kind of focused on my partner bleeding on the ground.”

“That’s fair- but try to think back.  Did you see anything in your peripheral vision?  Did you hear anything?”

Missy paused for a moment, and when she spoke again, she still sounded lost in thought, “I heard a bike.  It makes sense with the helmet- I think it might’ve been a Yamaha?”  

“Wait, you can tell which brand a bike is by the sound?” you asked, not disbelieving Missy, but distracted by the new knowledge that a person could do such a thing.

“If you let me think about it, I could probably give you the make and model.”

“Holy shit, really?” your eyes were wide.  Your expression betrayed just how bewildered and impressed you were by vehicle knowledge.  It might’ve been basic knowledge, but fuck it, the author can’t drive.

“Oh, absolutely- different bikes make different sounds.  Cars are similar,” Tara nodded her agreement.

“You can tell cars apart by their sounds!?”

“Yeah?  Can’t you?” Missy turned to face you, slightly bemused.

“I can tell that they’re old?  Or like, electric, I guess?”

“Okay, when this is all over, I’m giving you a lesson.”

“I’d like to get in on that,” Tara added.

“Excellent!” Missy smiled, “Now everyone shut up and let me think.”

-

The way the BAU treated Frank dragged your guard down further.  They were gentle, but not dehumanizing or infantilizing.  They just treated him like a human person, and you found that neat, and more importantly, Frank found that neat.  

Also, the BAU laughed at Frank’s anecdotes and jokes.  I will be fully honest.  That was more of a relief to you, especially because a decent chunk of those anecdotes and jokes were about you murdering the shit out of Spencer Reid using nothing but your words.

It really started on that very first day, when you and Spencer had gone to visit Frank.  He could see it from his hospital bed- Spencer’s hand on your shoulder, the way Spencer was very clearly trying to comfort you from some unknown upset, and that was it.

Frank said, “Wow.  Those two have sure come a long way from Doc telling him to go die in a ditch.”

And JJ, who had been questioning him, choked on her coffee and wheezed out a, “What?”  

And that was pretty much it.  Frank explained that Spencer had pissed you off, you’d hit him with the “die in a ditch” thing, and he looked so sad that you literally forgave him the next day.  (He left out the bit about the stabbing, because stabbing doesn’t just kill people, it kills moods.)

From then on, Frank was the premium source of gossip on you and Spencer.  Of course, Missy got in on it, too.

When they told Rossi about the time you’d called Reid a “shit-licking asshole fed,” the agent laughed so hard that he literally couldn’t speak for a solid minute.  Was he a big fan of the anti-fed talk?  Not particularly.  But you had gone at it with such gusto, and with such anger, that he couldn’t help but cackle.  

You knew none of this, but you knew that everyone involved seemed happier after the BAU took the case.  That was good enough for you.

-

Your guard fell because of Spencer.

Wasn’t that always the way this was going to go?

While the BAU took care of your friends, Spencer took care of you.  He made sure you got home safe.  He kept you in the loop about everything case-relevant.  He made sure you remembered to eat, which was kind of hypocritical of him, but oh well.  He offered to drive you to and from the hospital, which was a fun kind of hell, because the man obeyed every traffic law ever made, but you got to bully him for it, so it all evened out in the end.  He distracted you from the nightmare you were living through by offering fun facts.  He made the nightmare better just by being him.  

And he was the one to get Adam out.  

He didn’t announce this victory to you.  He just showed up one day, at the hospital, following behind Adam as the newly freed man burst into Frank’s room.

“Frank!  Hey, are you good man?  I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, I would’ve been, but you know how it is with cops.”

“Shit, dude,” Frank beamed, “All things considered, I’m not too bad.”

“Holy shit, Adam?” you let out a hospital-appropriate screech.

“Oh my god,” Missy stood from her place at Frank’s bedside to give him a hug.  For a moment, she held him so tightly that it looked like Adam legitimately couldn’t breathe.

The moment she saw Spencer lingering in the background, she switched from one wire-shaped man to the next.  Spencer hugged her back politely, and then, in an instant, she was onto you.

“You sons of bitches did it!  You actually did it!”

“Did we?” you asked Spencer, lowering your voice as Missy, Frank, and Adam enjoyed their reunion.

“We did,” Spencer confirmed, stepping closer to you until you were side to side, whispering to each other to avoid disturbing your friends, “We found bank statements proving that this was a targeted hit, unrelated to Adam.  We’ve only been able to find the unsub’s side so far, but it won’t take us long to find whoever contracted him.” 

“Shit- that’s both really good and mildly fucking terrifying.”

“I know,” Spencer answered almost too quickly, but he covered it up just as fast, “But it means that Adam is a free man.  It’s almost over, (Y/N).”

You let out a small exhale, trying to maintain some semblance of calm, “Almost.  Thank you, Spence.  For all of this, for everything-”

“You don’t need to thank me.  It wasn’t just the new evidence.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, there was this local criminology professor, maybe you’ve heard of them.  They were incredibly insistent that law enforcement look deeper into the case, and because of them, the conviction vanished.”

A smile slipped onto your face as you turned to face him, “Was that a joke, Spence?  You’re doing ha-ha funny jokes now?”

“I’m saying you did a good thing, here, (Y/N).  Look,” he nodded towards the hospital bed, where your friends were talking, beaming, clinging to each other’s hands like they’d been shot, traumatized, and separated for months- which was an accurate summary, actually.

At your side, you let your hand slip into Spencer’s, weaving your fingers between his slender ones.  You felt his grip tighten, his palm pressed tightly to yours.  His hands were warm.

“We did a good thing,” you whispered.

You pulled him closer by the hand.  You weren’t harsh or forceful, but Spencer still stumbled into you with what can only be described as a somewhat lovestruck grin on his face.

And then his phone rang.

You watched his face fall as he answered it.  His fingers drifted away from yours.  You could almost hear Hotchner’s voice on the other end.  The call only lasted a few moments, but it changed everything.  The air in the room grew heavy.  The room fell silent.

“We found the unsub.  My team is confronting him now, I-” he paused.

“They want you to go with them.”

“I have to.”

A shaky breath escaped your lungs, and you were kinda pissed at it- how dare that shaky breath reveal how you actually felt?  How dare it break free from your body, alerting Spencer that your world had just spun out sideways for the millionth time that week.

You were gonna square up with that fucking breath.

But first, without saying another word, you nodded towards the door.  Spencer nodded back.  Like that, he was gone.  You watched him go.  You stared at the empty doorway after he’d left.   The room remained silent.

I mean, it did until it didn’t- your friends couldn’t watch that and say nothing.  I don’t think anybody could.

“Holy shit, you’re just gonna let him leave without saying goodbye?” Adam asked, looking between you and the door so quickly that you were almost surprised that his head didn’t fly off.

“He’s down bad,” Frank whispered, nodding in agreement, “Go get him.”

“I- he’s gonna be back in five minutes,” you tried to reason.  It didn’t work.

“He could be back never!  He might die!” Missy ran forward, gripping your shoulders.

“He’s got a bulletproof vest-”

“THERE IS SO MUCH THOSE THINGS DON’T COVER!!” Missy progressed to shaking you, slightly, “Go get him!  Hurry, before it’s too late!”

“I really don’t know what you want me to say here.”

“Tell him you’re also down bad!” Frank exclaimed, no longer whispering.

“Down bad-?  What the fuck does that even mean,” you said, your voice growing quieter and quieter as you left the room and headed down the hallway.

“... Y’know, they taught me what ‘down bad’ means.”

“Same.”

As your friends continued to discuss, you were already halfway down the hallway, walking as fast as you could given the hospital setting.  Spencer was nowhere to be seen and you really didn’t have time to look.  You really had one choice.  The elevators.

You reached them just in time to watch that lanky noodle motherfucker step inside.

Giving up on decorum, you raced through the hospital corridor, yelling out apologies at every human person you passed- fortunately there weren’t too many, so it wasn’t like you caused a massive disturbance.  Most people just thought you were having your rom-com finale moment.  Maybe some part of you was trying to, but honestly, you weren’t really thinking about it.  You were mostly just thinking, “Shit, shit, shit, I have to get in that elevator.”

And you did!  You made it!  You stumbled through the doors and came to a stop in the middle of that tiny box.  Spencer reached out to steady you, his expression letting you in on his amused confusion.  You smiled up at him, trying not to pant- and then you came to a realization.

You had no fucking clue what the hell you were going to say.

To be fair, what the fuck is a person supposed to say in that situation?  “Heyyyy, my friends think I’m in love with you, so now I’m here, wanna talk about that before you head into a dangerous situation involving a hitman and many guns?”

Or perhaps, “Hey!  You’re a good person even though I keep insisting you aren’t one, so I want you to know that you’re a good person before I send you off to get murdered!”

Or maybe, “You’re hot, I’m hot, wanna spend the next thirty seconds doing terrible things to this elevator that will get us forcibly removed from this hospital?”

Or even, “Hi, you just did a really nice thing for my friends, and I really appreciate it, and even though I don’t express it, I do care about you a lot, so maybe don’t die in the next few hours.  For me.  Please.”

In the end, you just settled for, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Spencer replied, not taking his hands from your shoulders even though you were more than steady, “Is everything okay?”

“Okay?  Yeah,  yeah, everything is, um.  Everything’s fine.  I just-”  you froze again, because seriously, what the fuck could you say right then and there?  What could you say that would let him know everything you wanted him to know?

“Are you sure?” he looked at you, held you with such delicate concern.  You kind of wanted to partake in elevator ruining activities with Spencer until the two of you got kicked out of the hospital together. 

“Yeah- yeah!  Everything’s- I’m okay, it’s just,” you raised your hand, letting it hover between the two of you for a moment before you placed it over one of his, “Come out of this alive.  Make sure everyone else does, too, but… come out of this okay, okay?”

Spencer hesitated.  And then he wrapped his hand around yours and brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles ever so briefly.

“I will.  I promise.”

The elevator bell dinged.  You’d reached the parking lot.  Spencer let go of your hand with a different kind of hesitation.  

“I’ll see you soon,” he offered, “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Spencer disappeared into the parking lot, dashing out of sight and into danger.  You stood there, watching until the elevator doors slid shut and that infernal box pulled you back up again.  The humming metal lights above and the clanking metal around you harmonized into the perfect soundscape for your empty mind.

Spencer was heading into danger, as he always did.  You were returning to serve your community, as you always did.  Spencer might not come back, and you would always remain, and you realized that when the case was over, he would go back to Quantico with the BAU, and you probably wouldn’t see him ever again.

And it broke your heart a little bit.  Maybe more than a little bit.  A little bit, perhaps.

You were a long way from, “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, go die,” indeed.

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife, @80katie, @ms-ks-world, @logicalhorror if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know!!

[that-fall-guy]

⭐ Hello fellow writing friend!

For the directors cut asks I hope it's not too much to ask for a commentary on our shared fic (Case 8008135) if you want. (I had so much fun with it!) Otherwise I'd love to hear more about All Ghost Stories are Love Stories.

OUGHHH I WOULD LOVE TO DO A CASE 8008135 COMMENTARY (it will be very long so I'll hide it under the cut)

But!! If you haven't read Case File 8008135: The Disappearance of Impulse EsVee and Skizz LehMan then please do, it's so unbelievably good. We put so much work into it over the 3 weeks of prep time we had and we're both super proud of it!!!

Once we'd come up with the concept (a story told entirely through found media), I knew the order of the evidence was going to do a lot of heavy lifting when it came to putting together a cohesive story. If we'd left evidence of a kind together, once the reader hit the transcripts they'd know the plot—they could click away. To create the suspense we needed, we'd have to focus on splitting up the sections. Once we had a list of the evidence, I highlighted them all with three colours to categorize them as worldbuilding, evidence, and plot. Then I rearranged them (on the list) to have a worldbuilding heavy beginning, then add a bit of plot, then slowly shift more towards evidence and plot.

The YouTube videos at the beginning were an idea we'd tossed around but hadn't quite settled on until the very end because the CSS.... ew. Props to Am, because it looks sooooo cool. I knew that, if we did add that section, I wanted it at the top: first, to show it off, and second to establish a sense of the universe. For the uninitiated, Sam and Colby (the first thumbnail) is a very popular pair of ghost hunters; they also once explored with Tommy, so I just took his outline from that thumbnail, cut it out, and pasted it in with them. I had to turn the sky red in my thumbnail because I couldn't get the red tinge from their thumbnail out of his hair lol. Insym is, of course, the Phasmophobia streamer, so we had to include him; and LoeyLane is one of my favourite other spooky streamers, and did a video on McKamey Manor.

The Yelp reviews (I have been informed they just broke this morning... thank you for fixing them Am!) set the scene—folks are spooked, and we're in or around Maple and Brule (small towns in Northern Wisconsin where I grew up). It's also the first instance of ghost text, although you likely won't notice it on your first time through.

The first article is our first heavy lore drop, explaining the doctors (E.V. Ilxisuma and Hels Knight) and introducing a conflict between them. When I was writing my article (the second one, super long) I was like, 'Oh, well obviously I'll use Pix as the author, he already does a lot of archival stuff so he's perfect!' and then I scroll back up and see we've both had the same idea?? So I, after a very long, boring, intense writing session, decided 'Eh, this is Pix's grandson, Pix III.' And I went to bed. But can I just point out the beautiful formatting of the articles? Because I love it so much. They're beautiful <3

The HR complaint establishes Sunny Meadows as a case only GIGGS could solve, and references (of course) a variety of other MCYTers for the funsies.

Am did such a wonderful job capturing the characters' voices in the texts and transcripts, and I just tried to follow through by implementing capitalization errors as I think they use. Impulse uses a lot of emojis— :) :> <3 o.o—and while I know that he doesn't use capitalization, I needed someone in the groupchat to use capitalization, so I gave it to the responsible dad. The texts are from Skizz's phone, which was recovered from the 'crime scene' by investigators. Gem later references the time of these texts in her witness statement.

The receipts!!!!! I'm exposing Am, she made the receipts and they look wonderful but you don't wanna know how long she spent making the Kwik-Trip receipt look as accurate as possible lmao. But it does! It looks incredible. It also holds one of my favourite ghost text moments lol.

And finally! Our first radio transcript! I had volunteered to write some of the transcripts, but Am is just too good at capturing character voice, and I'm glad she was willing to write them in the end. I just went through with a few grammatical edits. I will say, I learned a week or so ago that the ghost types are supposed to be capitalized.... which seems wrong to me. So they're all common nouns in our fic. I'm not sorry. I love the cutoff point for this transcript—in such a dark fic, the '"I'm going to chuck it at you." (Laughing) "You'd miss."' felt like the perfect place to cut the transcript and bring in a bit of that nervous happiness that comes when you're reading a tragedy. The dramatic irony of knowing the characters are going to die and all that.

Ah the witness statements! The first section so far that I've actually written lol. Scar's was the most painful because my method was to just tune into a stream, but when I tuned into Scar's he was in a very compelling frozen pickle discussion which turned into an anti-AI rant, so I couldn't just ignore what he was saying and write. Instead I spent half an hour actually invested in his stream before I could get anything done. Scar's witness statement is pretty useless from the detectives' PoV, but what can ya do?

The journal was really funny, I threw it together super fast. I'm very happy with Skizz's little doodle of their new outfits, it's just fun and cute. Adds a bit of lightness to combat the fic's weight.

We debated over who was the one to report the incident. Generally we wanted it to be an Emperor, and I mainly decided Scott because his witness statement would be easy to write (I understand his voice) and he's played Phasmo before. Skizz's ghost text is perfect lmao I love it. Absolutely something he'd say.

From Gem's witness statement I wanted to give readers the takeaway that Gem put in the work to figure out the timeline of what happened. The transition from her saying the ghost probably killed them to the transcript wherein the ghost kills them is... chef's kiss.

Boo! appearing image! That one's so fun to find. Back in July or August or so, I actually spent like 12 hours making my own copies of the UV prints by extracting them from the game because I needed them for a Powerpoint night, but I deleted them afterwards because why would I ever need those? The image you see in the fic was found on the internet. I'm disappointed in myself lol. The blood splatter was also a really cool detail that I love! I also found that one on the internet... but why reinvent the wheel, I suppose? The ghost text during hunts! Yes details! Am really brought my worldbuilding from the therapy journal to life with the ghost's hidden text moments. Impulse's scream there is from his Hermitcraft s9, when he was just chilling in his storage room and Pearl jumpscared him. The death sound is from the stream where they taught Pearl and Oli how to play.

I wrote the therapy journal in a few sittings because I kept hitting points where I just didn't know where to take it. I was, of course, trying to write from the point of view of a man in the mental hospital for a reason, but his problems were less intense before the doctors tried to step in. The character is based on Francis Delilez, who did murder his brother-in-law and referred to the voices compelling him as 'demoniacs.' His book is linked after the article, and I used it as a very influential source when writing any of the historical lore. My general concept for his treatment was that the medicine gives him a Hels; when medicated, he believes the pain (headache) grounds him to his body and lessens the delusions. His suicide attempt is an attempt to tether himself more, gone wrong.

Grian's statement is the most thorough and informative, giving detectives a rough idea of the events leading up to the deaths. I wanted to be more specific about their system, but Skizz likes to switch it up to mess with Impulse so I really couldn't make blanket statements like "Skizz takes the basement and Impulse takes the first floor."

The detectives were a rather last minute addition in the grand scheme of things! We didn't really plan their strong presence from the beginning, but realized they were necessary in order to move the plot forward (and also obstruct the plot lol). Frank Columbo, the experienced and collected detective, is of course a reference to the titular character of the show Columbo. John Dalton, the spooked newbie, is a reference to Jack Dalton from the original MacGyver, a character always getting himself into awkward and deadly scrapes.

Tango's statement was hard to write simply because he wouldn't actually know anything useful, but I wanted so badly for him to have information. Oh well. He's the one who identified and explained equipment from the evidence collection for the detectives.

The evidence images took so long to collect. I needed a picture of the objectives—the ghost event one was supposed to be "escape a ghost hunt" but the other two were what we intended, so once I got those objectives I decided to settle for that screenshot lol. Am had written some descriptions before I started trying for the pictures, so I had some guidance. The candles being next to the crucifix was easy enough, as was a random picture of the door to the padded room (framed like an interaction photo). I couldn't force the ghosts to be in the correct room, unfortunately, so the photos are mostly from other rooms. The ghost photo is notably from the entryway—and didn't glitch as much as I'd wanted it to, so I threw it into my photo editor and added some aftereffects and such for a better effect. The first time I tried to get a ghost photo, I got 3 stars but discovered the ghost had been a phantom. The Worst Luck lmao. The Employee of the Month certificate is absolutely perfect—it's in the evidence section because it was supposedly on the wall of the truck, but of course I can't fake that in-game. Paul Tergyst, their boss, is a play on poltergeist. I also have to say that getting a monkey paw photo was AWFUL. I'd show up and the cursed object would be missing? And after like ten attempts I found they were just glitched into the floor. I had to go to every spot and try to pull the cursed object out of the floor, and then it took so long to actually get the monkey paw (had to do a custom level that just gave me the monkey paw). Skizz's death scream is unfortunately a bit cut off because someone else started talking as his second scream ended, and I had to edit that out. I really don't remember which stream that's from and I didn't label the file :/

I loved Joker's statement! I managed to tune into the end of one of Joker's streams (it was late at night) and oh how I've missed him playing Phasmo honestly. I'm so glad he finally returned to the Phasmobros recently! Please oh please I want another JITS reunion stream so bad now that Jokes is feeling better.

Ah, the article. The Article. This took me so long, I wrote it in one sitting referencing Delilez' book constantly. It's a 1.6k essay on real things that happened at the Northern Wisconsin Hospital in Winnebago, WI. I changed the city and name, and we added MCYT characters, but the facts in the article are all true to real life unfortunately. The ghost's name, James Norfolk, is a reference to the Norfolk hospital, the medical records of which I used to create James' files. Pneumonia was the most common reported cause of death for males at the Norfolk hospital during the year of his fictional death.

The Google search histories were just fun little ways to show poor John's descent into paranoia and terror. The code for these sections is so incredibly finicky, really just awful. Broke every time we tried to make an edit to the draft. Personally I'm a fan of "escort hiring near me" -> "escort security hiring near me -sex"

The interview with Grian is so fun. Here is a man who knows exactly what happened and how to resolve the case. And here are two men who are going to do everything possible to stop him from doing that. Now make them talk. The officers lying to Grian about evidence was absolutely perfect to raise the tension and further the scene. Dalton cracking first out of desperation is such beautiful characterization—the loaded exchange between him and Columbo at that point is perfect. I do have to mention that, while I in no way coded the CSS or HTML, I formatted this transcript (via copy-paste) and adding timestamps was the bane of my existence the whole time. I had to consider how slowly people talk, how much empty space there is between statements... awful!

I just have to point out that the kids ribbing each other in the gc sounds so real and organic!!!

The big meaty action-scene transcript! The poor detectives think they're being clever. The jinn slows its LoS speedup because Impulse and Skizz turn off the breaker from beyond—while dead players can't manipulate the breaker, it can be turned on an off during a hunt by a living player, so we nixed the first mechanic in favour of the second. I played a couple rounds to test this. I died the first time, oops (it was dark and I walked into the ghost...) but the second time I made it to the breaker downstairs in Sunny Meadows. I turned it on as the ghost rounded the corner, turned it off knowing I was cornered, and the ghost changed speeds. Somehow I managed to get a jinn while testing a theoretical jinn mechanic?? I won't question the universe I guess, just a very strange coincidence. In the meantime, Grian's "I hope this works" is him guessing jinn and leaving. The mechanic we went for was that dead players revive when the living players drive off with the correct ghost type identified.

The reunion gc is just fun, them razzing the dads because of course. We also throw readers a bone if they haven't yet found out about the ghost text by showing it off via Impulse and Skizz's texts.

[attorney-ramblings]

Okay, I have a fic concept living rent free in my head.

Miles has been helping Phoenix deal with the aftermath of his disbarment since the beginning, he pulled every string and called in every favor he could, and still nothing could be done.

He tried to assure Wright that things would work out eventually, that they would prove he’d been tricked. Wright had adamantly refused to have Trucy testify on his behalf, to lay the blame on her. Miles disagreed with the decision but didn’t push him on it, she was only a child after all.

As time passes, Phoenix struggles to make ends meet. He needs to go out and get a job but he can’t just leave Trucy alone in the apartment for his long hours. Upon hearing this, Miles reluctantly offered to watch her. He had not intended it to become a regular occurrence.

Yet here he was, slowly coming to adore the sweet and spirited girl. She was well behaved, and all around delightful. Of course she was a child still and sometimes he found her getting herself into trouble around the Prosecutor’s Office, however he’d never needed to scold her about something more than once.

He was careful about where he took her, often avoiding having her ever come near a crime scene. Whenever he had to go out investigating he would have Detective Gumshoe watch her for the hour or so he needed to get what was necessary.

Other than those times the girl was right by her side at all times, she asked a lot of questions when they were alone, about what was happening in the case. It was an interesting exercise for him, trying to explain the case to a child, he spared her any of the more gruesome details of course. He wouldn’t be held responsible for traumatizing her.

However, trying to explain the complex motivations of the human psyche for crime in a easily digestible manner had actually been a relatively helpful exercise.

Other times when talking to witnesses, she was mostly quiet, but sometimes she even landed up being helpful. Sometimes noticing speech patterns and little ticks that he would’ve otherwise overlooked. She was also amazingly emotionally intelligent, she covered for an area he was weak in, comforting others.

He had more than once, left the room for a moment to grab something just to come back and find her sitting next to a witness, them tearing up and suddenly ready to talk.

It was honestly incredible to him, and he found himself hopelessly enamored by this precious little girl. Phoenix often complained about how he spoiled her rotten, but he frankly couldn’t care less. It was payment for helping him with his work.

It was a few months after this pattern had started, and Trucy was skipping along behind him as usual. He needed to speak to a detective, so he was down at the station. A particularly peculiar case had just been set into motion and he needed more information.

Trucy wasn’t the type to wander off on her own, that had been a strict rule he’d implemented when he’d started bringing her with him places. She’d always been good about it, only ever getting lost in the madness once.

When he looked around and saw she was nowhere to be seen, he panicked. They were in a police station, surely she was safe, she had to be.

Except, often Police stations are filled with nearly as many criminals as officers, who knew what might happen if one broke out of their handcuffs.

It didn’t take him terribly long to find her thankfully, he heard crying in the distance, when he followed the sound, it seemed to be the voice of a child. Down a hallway and into a conference room, that was when he finally caught sight of her again.

Miles nearly shouted, he was sorely tempted to scold her for scaring him like that. However the moment he processed what he was looking at, the words died on his lips.

Trucy was sitting next to another little girl, she seemed slightly older than her, but only by a year or two. She wore her bright auburn hair in a side pony and she was sobbing, hysterically panicking.

Miles was all too familiar with that particular kind of terror, he made eye contact with the officer in the room and gestured for them to come closer.

“Prosecutor Edgeworth, I was a little worried when I saw your girl walk in here alone, everything alright?” The officer asked, she was a middle aged woman who mostly worked filing and desk jobs. She was always in the precinct, so she often saw them here.

He nodded curtly, “She walked off on her own while I was taking care of something, I’ll have a talk with her. I’m just glad she didn’t leave the station.” He looked back over to the two girls, Trucy was hugging her from the seat beside the the auburn haired girl. Trucy had given the girl her cape to wrap around her for comfort, and she was clutching it tightly and mumbling to herself softly.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She always seems to know when someone’s upset, makes it hard to be angry with her.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall for a moment. “Who’s the other girl?”

“Athena Cykes, the daughter of that astronaut that got murdered by the prosecutor. Surely you’ve heard about it… we don’t really know what to do with her. She has distant relatives from Europe we’re attempting to contact, but there’s some sort of hang up in the communications. It’s taking longer that we expected it to.” She sighed. “She’ll probably have to stay at the precinct tonight, I already offered to keep an eye on her. Poor thing.”

Miles did know the case, in fact it was the one he had just been assigned. Prosecutor Simon Blackquill confessed to the murder of Metis Cykes, the girl being the daughter of the victim.

Trucy finally seemed to realize his presence there and jumped in her seat, she scampered over to him and hugged his leg. “Uncle Miles! I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it when I run off, you just looked busy and I wanted to help her…”. She spoke softly for a child, clearly trying to be mindful of the young Miss Cykes.

“Miss, is ‘Thena really going to have to stay here overnight?” She asked the officer, looking deeply concerned.

“Sorry Lil Missy, that’s the way it has to be. She hasn’t got anywhere else to stay. Protocol would have us looking after her until she’s either put under the care of extended family or the foster system.” She explained, and Trucy glanced over her shoulder at the girl again. She had quieted down a little after Trucy gave her cape to the girl. When her gaze returned to Miles there were tears in her eyes.

“It’s so loud here though! ‘Thena has really sensitive ears, she usually wears these headphones when she goes out in public that her momma made for her. If she doesn’t then she gets overwhelmed really easily, and she doesn’t have them! She doesn’t even go to school at all because of it, even with the headphones.” Trucy had her fists at her sides and her mouth pressed in a determined line, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She can’t stay here Uncle Miles!”

The officer blinked, “She told you all that?”

Trucy nodded emphatically. It didn’t surprise Miles in the least… he looked over to the quiet trembling girl. He couldn’t help but see himself in her, traumatized, alone, having all of his decisions made for him by adults he didn’t know or trust. If what Trucy was saying is true, then.

He sighed.

“Trucy, stay with her. I’m going to see what I can do.”

[captain-aralias]

someone commented yesterday on my 8th year mpreg that i didn't finish because i had a baby 2 weeks early (a year and a half ago!) (he's still alive - all is well).

and i thought, after reading this comment:

OK, it's time to put the bits that i didn't finish on the internet!!

because i will PROBABLY never finish this fic at this point. but who knows? but also probably not. if you are reading this fic and you would like to finish it, crack on. get in touch. i will help you!

here's the stuff i didn't finish. it's about a thousand words, some cut scenes from chapter 1 and a rough plan for the rest. 👇👇

Chapter 2: Second Trimester

SIMON

Surprisingly, Penelope agrees with Baz about the wedding.

“Magicians are always claimed by their families,” she told me after I’d explained what had happened with Baz. And his mum. And after she’d asked a lot of questions. (Fortunately, I’d already told her about the Humdrum, and that Baz and I had slept together, but it was still a lot to take in.) “There are loads of spells that only work for people with the same name,” she explained. “Magickal objects that only work if they’re passed down through the family. And of course, the Pitches would want to keep an eye on someone with their blood. A lot of magicians have historically been killed by their own relatives.”

“You mean, for power?” I suggested.

“Often,” Penny agreed. “But also, because no one can hurt you like your own family.”

She’s been looking into wedding magic ever since. Baz has been helping her. And then, once she’s finally gone back to her own room, he helps me with the investigation into his mum’s death. 

I thought that would be terrible, but it’s all right working with Baz. Good, even. He’s got an organised mind. And he knows I’m always hungry – especially now – so he brings food up from the kitchen before we start. Unfortunately, we haven’t got much further. We still don’t know who Nicodemus is or why anyone would want to hurt Headmistress Pitch, besides the obvious. But Penny’s made good progress. Last week, she qualified as a magickal officiant. This week, they chose the binding spells. 

She and Baz also decided where the wedding would take place. It has to be somewhere significant to both of us – and our relationship. I suggested our room. 

Baz disagreed. “You’re not even trying,” he told me, like he thought I should put more effort into our marriage of convenience. 

Neither of us wanted to go back to Lancashire, for obvious reasons. And Baz already rejected the Catacombs. So, I said it was fine when he suggested the Wavering Wood. At least, it’s close. 

I’m regretting it now. Now I’m standing outside in the middle of a forest at midnight – because, of course, it has to be midnight – freezing my bollocks off while Penny conjures an altar out of a rock. 

Baz is at my side, looking cool and unruffled. He’s dressed for the weather: in a long dark coat and leather gloves. It’s all very Sexy Vampire. I keep catching dryads sneaking looks at him, then ducking away when I scowl at them. 

“Will you stop fidgeting?” he hisses as I try wrapping my arms over my chest and shift my weight again. “You don’t want to be here. Message received.”

I sigh and drop my arms. “It’s not that.” 

Baz looks surprised. “It’s not?”

I shake my head, although admittedly I don’t want to be here. Now. In the Wood – I’d prefer to be in our room – but I don’t want him to think I’m upset about marrying him when I’m actually OK with it. It’s only a ceremony, isn’t it? We’ve already had sex. We’re already having a baby. 

When you think about it, this is basically a repeat of the time we became roommates. Well, except that this time, there’s a bit at the end where we’re supposed to kiss. I don’t mind that, though. I think I might even be looking forward to it. I think I’d have kissed Baz again before this if I thought he wanted me to. If he ever looked at me the way he did back in Lancashire, instead of sneering in a way that makes it clear that he has no idea how we ended up in this situation. 

He's not sneering now, though. He’s just confused. 

“I’m cold,” I tell him. 

Baz frowns. I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “You don’t get cold.”

He’s right. Or at least, he should be. I can’t really control my body temperature anymore. I keep forgetting. I borrowed a suit from Gareth earlier (I told him I had a funeral to go to) and I’m not wearing a coat. Now parts of me I doubt Baz wants to hear about are aching. 

“I think it’s a pregnancy thing,” I say, sort of grimacing because saying things like that makes me feel like an arse. I’m not even sure I’m right. I haven’t read any pregnancy books, I haven’t had time – I just wish my nipples didn’t hurt. 

Baz grimaces too, though kind of … sympathetically, I think. 

“I see.” 

He looks down at his hands and pulls of his gloves. At first, I think he’s going to give them to me – which wouldn’t help, even if they actually fit – but instead he tucks them under his elbow and brings his palms together.

“Here.” 

There’s an outraged huff from the trees as a small, hot flame appears between his hands. Dryads hate fire – this one will’ve gone right off Baz. (Good, I think. He’s about to be off the market, anyway.)

He holds the fire out to me. “Take it.” 

I stare at him. “Huh?”

Baz scowls. “It won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It wasn’t. I just don’t know how to keep fire going the way Baz can. It either goes out or… it doesn’t. I might not be a fan of the Wavering Wood anymore, but I don’t want to burn it down either. Especially not while I’m in it. And Penny. And Baz is a vampire, he’s flammable. (Can Baz be burnt by a flame he started? I don’t want to find out. This baby needs two parents.) 

Before I can explain myself – Baz never lets me explain myself – he’s taking my hand in one of his, holding the fire in the other. I almost pull back. But … I don’t. I have to trust him. 

I let him drop the little flame onto my palm and it burns 

NOTES (what do they mean? in some cases, even i don't know, but i thought 'oliver' was a fun name for baby as it's simon's original middle name from fangirl without being an obvious reference like - 'davy' or 'jamie' or some ridiculous pitch bullshit)

Backstory – magic is too precious

telling Penny, she thinks its sensible. But weird. 

Baz spells it warmer. No actual ceremony. 

BAZ

Comes back from hunting. 

Sex

SIMON

Napping – Baz and Penny solving the mysteries 

BAZ

They work out the Humdrum hasn’t attacked. 

Carrying to bed

Actual husband / Simon, I am your actual husband.

Summon – backstory from Humdrum, your dad, Simon’s pumping magic into the baby 

SIMON

Confronting the Mage?

He’s like – Simon, this is weird, Malcolm Grimm just wrote to me about taxes, wants to help fight the Humdrum. Simon shouting at him. 

BAZ

“I’m going to be a terrible father.”

Baz tells him he was the Chosen One – wished for a way to end this.

Maybe more sex?

SIMON

Oliver.

cut scenes/different variations - usually i offer some editorial on what this is and why i cut it, but we're so far in the future now folks. again, who knows? i think i cut most of these because they were boring and facewithoutheart's eight months is all about being zippy

“You know when we––”

I nod. I don’t need him to say it, I was there. (We had sex. It was good, until it wasn’t. Until Snow realised who he’d slept with and what that meant for the relationship he actually cares about.)

“Well.” Snow’s looking at his feet now. At the ceiling. Anywhere but at me. “Something … happened after that.”

I imagine quite a few things did. I was kidnapped by numpties, for a start. And kept in a coffin for six weeks. (I doubt that’s what Snow’s referring to.) 

“I mean, because of that,” he says. “Also, the Veil lifted––”

“What?” This isn’t what I expected.

“While you were gone,” Snow says. “Your mum–– I wrote it down. But I left my bag in the hall, fuck. Anyway, she––”

He’s still not looking at me, so it takes him by surprise when I grab him and shove him back against the stone wall of the corridor. 

That gets his attention. His eyes flare with anger. “Baz.”

“What about my mother?”

“Let me go first,” Snow growls. 

I don’t have to do it. I’m much stronger than him and he would talk, eventually. I’ve riled him up enough that he 

//

I’m not going to do that.

Snow’s offering me everything I’ve ever wanted – or close enough. What’s there to think about? What am I doing here? 

I need to tell him I agree with him before he changes his mind. 

//

SIMON

Baz isn’t in Greek. 

That bothers me – although at least I know where he is this time. (Screaming into a pillow probably. Or throwing himself into the moat.) Obviously, I knew he’d be upset – why wouldn’t he be? But I didn’t think he’d be so upset he’d miss more school. He only just got back. 

I’m not expecting to see him in Magic Words, which is our next period, and I don’t. But he’s waiting for me outside the classroom door once the bell goes for morning break. 

“Finished processing?” I ask him. 

“Have you?” Baz retorts, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. (It would’ve been no. I haven’t finished. I’ve barely even started.) 

//

Miss Possibelf says it’s good to have him back.

“It’s good to be back,” Baz says. 

“What does that mean?” I say, even though I’m not in the conversation. 

Baz sighs. “What do you think it means, Snow?” 

But that’s just it – I don’t know. Is he just happy 

//

“Simon,” Penny hisses next to me. “Your magic.”

Now she’s said something I can smell it. Thick smoke. Suffocating. I can see other kids looking at me. Baz turns in his seat to look at me, too. For once he isn’t sneering. (He looks nicer when he’s not sneering. He looks nice. Too thin, but nice. We’ll have a really good-looking baby if it takes after him.)

Miss Possibelf asks me if I need to step outside. 

“No,” I say. “I’m good.” 

I can’t risk being thrown out right now. What if Baz gives me the slip after class? 

[populousgraph]

So... Thsc oc! Yay!

(This is an info dump about Devin, so it might get pretty long...)

Okay, so! It all started when two Toppat members loved each other very much and had a baby. Which was Devin! They took care of him until he was 8 or 9 when they took him on a mission and ended up getting killed in front of him.

With no one to care for him, the Toppat Leaders (Reginald and RHM) decided to take him in and raise him as it says above on his card.

He turned out to be one of the best Toppats in the clan (obviously), but he was also very reckless. He would often rush into things without a plan and end up succeeding by a pure miracle.

Devin is also pretty lighthearted and cocky with him facing his issues with a smile and joke.

Well, what are his relationships with Reginald and RHM?

I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

Reginald:

They have a close bond with Reginald being Devin's go-to for emotional support. Reginald shows his affection and concern for Devin a lot more openly. He's usually the one to fuss over him when he ends up doing something dumb that got him injured. He also taught Devin how to use swords with both hands, one he was old enough. (I read a fanfiction where Reginald knew how to fight with swords, and I thought it fit so well for his character.)

Right Hand Man:

RHM is a lot more subtle with his relationship with Devin but is not neglectful. They've spent enough time together that Devin knows that RHM cares for him just as much as Reginald does. He shows his affection and concern through his actions more than words, and it is the one to patch up Devin after he does something stupid. They like to train together by fighting one on one which is Right's favorite style of fighting.

(He's also pals with Burt, Carter (my oc), and Cathat (friend's oc), but I can always expand on that later if you're REALLY interested.)

What's he like during different endings, you ask?

Well since you asked!

Government Supported Private Investigator:

Devin doesn't show up on screen really for this ending, and instead has more offscreen importance.

When the government came to arrest the leaders and most of the clan, Devin fought his hardest to stop it but didn't succeed, which got a lot arrested. He also lost his arm in the airship crash and was taken by remaining Toppats to help him survive.

Once his injury was taken care of and he woke up, he was made the new leader. Of course, he took the position, but he wasn't ready for it. His main goal after this ending was to break the previous leaders out of prison. (Also, he gets a cool cybernetic prosthetic. Aw, like father like son.)

Pure Blooded Thief:

Devin isn't really on screen for this one either and really only shows up at the end with the leaders. Right wants to do something about Henry stealing the Ruby, and Devin is on board with it, but Reginald talks them both out of it. They all escape, but now they really don't like Henry.

Rapidly Promoted Executive:

Devin is on screen more as he runs with Reginald while Henry chases them down. (He would've been with RHM to fight with Henry, but he was told to go with Reg and who is he to disobey Right?)

Anyway, after Right is defeated and Henry tries to get Reginald, he's tackled to the ground and stopped by Devin. So they fight it out while Reg tries to get help. (I have fails and a success for this part, but I'll save that for another time.) Henry finally gets advantage over Devin and slams him into the wall, which knocks him out.

Of course, there's the whole betraying government thing, and Henry becomes leader. Devin is not happy with it...

Relentless Bounty Hunter:

Same thing as the previous ending, but this time, once Devin woke up and found out about it, both him and Right were rightfully pissed about it. Both of them become a terror to the government and work together to get that space station up in orbit so they can go break Reginald out.

(I might talk more about the Completing the Mission endings, but this is already long, and I have no idea how interested people will be in this guy. 🥲)