#fun to write! c:

[le-amewzing]

through and through

Parknight and danger just mix so deliciously in a heart-pounding way and I'm. 83c *Note: This is a combined request by Pinkyeti38 and by Kate on FFN, asking for a Parknight where Parker gets shot and Knight's there to save him, with some Parker whump.

Fic: "through and through" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: Alden Parker/Jess Knight, Nick Torres, & Timothy McGee, with some OC villains

Rating: T

Words: ~4,830

Additional info: romance, action/adventure, hurt/comfort, 3rd person POV

Summary: Their team is under fire, gets split, and is in dire straits. But, Parker thinks, there's no one else he'd rather face mortal danger with than [his very own, personal] Knight.

      The MCRT rolled up to the old Mullholland warehouse, an abandoned factory building in Virginia that had seen better days and hadn't been in use for several decades, going by the various shades of green and gray grime on the outside. Hell, even the old Mullholland logo was present but dilapidated, with the script M missing from the sign, along with all the vowels. And yet somehow all the broken windows were boarded up with fresh plywood.

      Parker huffed in the passenger seat while he scanned the imposing scenery outside the window. "Yeah, I think we're in the right place."

      He didn't need to turn or glance at Knight in the driver's seat to know which expression she wore, hearing his tone: brow pinched together accompanied by the tiniest of smiles. It was one of reluctant encouragement, since they were about to head into the lion's den.

      Parker would take any encouragement he could get right now, though, as he caught Torres' eye in the SUV with McGee and signaled for the other pair of agents where to park. Once the SUV and the sedan were hidden in the shadow of two abutting storage pods parked on the dirt lot in front of the Mullholland warehouse, they all clambered out and made for their trunks, exchanging blazers for protective vests.

      "McGee, did you finish downloading schematics for this place?" Knight asked as she pulled her ponytail free after slipping her NCIS jacket on over her vest.

      "Yeah, luckily," he answered, frowning at his tablet. McGee held it out for the other three to view. "I lost the signal a few miles back, but Kasie knew where we were heading and we'd already put in a call for backup. Kasie had said they might be twenty minutes out or more, though."

      "Better than nothing," Torres grumbled. He pulled a face when Parker and Knight settled him with matching looks of reproach. He pointed to the blueprints. "Please tell me I'm not seeing what I'm seeing, Tim."

      McGee gave them all a tight smile. "Afraid so. The Mullholland Company was a machinery factory with three floors. On the up side, no basement. Down side: Yeah…three floors to cover."

      Parker peeked around the nearest storage pod to double-check his count from when they'd first arrived. "And with four vehicles… Even a conservative estimate of two men per car, that's still double our number, McGee."

      "But Durmaz could be here himself," Knight reminded them.

      And there was the kicker. They couldn't delay when the big fish himself, Alim Durmaz, might be slumming it inside. "I miss the days when villains were more predictable," Parker groused as he checked his magazine before holstering his weapon.

      "Times definitely have changed," McGee said. "Not that Agah Bayar was a good guy, but…it still bothers me that someone like Bayar, at the top of the food chain in the arms trade, is off the table. Gibbs never trusted him, but Bayar was useful and precisely the sort of contact we needed for our case. But to dig up Durmaz instead…"

      Torres snorted. "Are you trying to say Bayar had a businessman's 'finesse,' McGee?"

      The pale fellow shrugged. "That's one way to put it."

      "At the end of the day, an arms dealer is an arms dealer, McGee," Parker pointed out. "Bayar, Durmaz—they'll be brought in at some point, dead or alive, by us or by another agency."

      McGee still frowned, but at least he nodded, seemingly accepting Bayar's fate.

      After a quick overview of the layout, Parker and the others armed themselves before rounding the storage pods to head in. He had half a mind to delay their approach and ask Knight and Torres to disable the vehicles of Durmaz's men—nothing serious, just puncturing a few tires to slow them down—but then Parker changed his mind, much as he hated to do so. While they were suited up and prepped for the worst, technically they'd come here after sending Durmaz several messages, reaching out, looking for information. It wouldn't do them any favors to get off on the wrong foot before even a simple "hello" had been exchanged, especially with someone rumored to be as aggressive as the young Durmaz.

      Torres led their group inside, with McGee and Parker not far behind and Knight pulling up the rear. There were no surprises for them in the former lobby entrance, save for how wide open the space was, as though someone had torn down a wall or two. That seemed easy to confirm, even, given the debris left scattered across the floor.

      "Hey, watch your step," Parker warned. "Last thing we need is anyone stepping on a rusty nail and catching tetanus." He kicked aside a board with the aforementioned protrusions for good measure.

      "Where to next?" Knight asked. "Left, right, or through the big doors?"

      "Big doors lead to the factory floor," McGee said while he squinted at a flickering light overhead. "Right takes us to the employee common areas, while left diverges. Stairs and some of the management offices."

      "Right then," Parker decided. "Even if Durmaz isn't with them, I wouldn't be surprised if his men set up shop there."

      The other three nodded with his assessment, and once more Torres took point. The closer the team got to the rightmost door, the louder sounds on the other side grew. So, Parker had been correct.

      That didn't mean they'd barge right in, though. Parker and McGee got behind the left side of the door, Torres and Knight to the right. McGee cracked it open on Parker's count, and Torres leaned forward ever so slightly—

      The door creaked.

      The sounds inside ceased.

      Parker held his breath. He swore he heard McGee, Torres, and Knight hold theirs, too.

      And then, the next second, they heard the telltale click of someone shifting a gun, aiming undoubtedly at them.

      Parker didn't waste his breath telling his team to run. They each turned on a dime and sprinted from the door as it fell to pieces, riddled with bullets. Parker ducked and felt a familiar hand on his back, keeping him bowed over while they ran.

      But their team's footsteps now had an echo in this abandoned lobby. It was hard to count how many people chased them, with the bullets spraying all around them, but Parker knew he heard extra footfall that wasn't his, wasn't Knight's, wasn't McGee's or Torres'.

      "Tim!" Torres shouted.

      Parker glanced over his shoulder at the same time Knight looked behind her. But there was no body on the floor, just the swinging doors that led to the factory floor.

      And, of course, two men each armed with an assault rifle still chasing the three of them.

      So now Torres ushered Parker along with Knight. They finished closing the distance, bursting through the left-side lobby door, with maybe three seconds to decide where they headed next.

      Their assailants kept shooting, however, even through the door, once more sending bullets and debris flying for Parker, Knight, and Torres to avoid.

      …or, at least, try to avoid, because either these guys had terrible aim or were enjoying some new toys without care or want for bullets. But even a broken clock was wrong twice a day.

      And even someone with shit aim was bound to hit something at some point.

      Parker hissed as a round pierced him by his right shoulder, just beyond where his vest could've protected him. The blow had the weight of a heavy punch behind it on top of the bullet slicing in, knocking most of the breath from him. Parker fell to his knees, trying to catch himself on either of his fellow agents, in the end feebly grasping Knight's forearm.

      Her tight grip on him signaled she knew exactly what had happened, even before she saw the dark, wet blossom on his jacket. "Parker!!"

      Her yelp made Torres do a double-take. He provided them cover as best he could while Knight dragged Parker to safety around the corner, into one of the nearby offices. "How bad?" he asked, reloading.

      "I—I don't know." Knight kept one hand pressed against the wound, making Parker grimace in pain, and she frowned as her eyes roved over his face. "I know, I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but—"

      More gunfire roared in the hallway, getting closer.

      Knight paled, her brow furrowed as she locked eyes with Parker. He patted the hand that kept pressure on his wound.

      "We're sitting ducks in here," Torres growled under his breath. He scanned the small office…and some of his anger dissolved. "Wait. Knight, look."

      The next thing Parker knew, Knight had his bad arm over her shoulders, her hand still pressed against his chest, and they began a slow shuffle on their knees, below the eye line of their assailants, to an old concealed door in the wall, revealing that these once had all been connected offices. Once they were two offices away, Knight propped Parker up in a mildewed chair to get a better look at him. "Nick, we need—"

      "No, you're gonna have to do this part on your own," Torres interrupted.

      Knight whirled around, and Parker caught sight of Torres' resigned expression past her torso. "Nick, you're joking right now."

      "I'm not." He jerked his chin at Parker. "Any other time, sticking together is the way to go. But they splintered Tim off from us so fast, Jess. And Parker…"

      Parker nodded, partly because he understood Torres' point of view and partly because he agreed it was their best option at the moment. There was also still a tiny part of him, of his old self, that wanted to call himself dead weight and insist Knight and Torres move on without him…but no. He'd been with this team well long enough and they'd been through far too many scrapes and close calls to try pulling that same old crap with them.

      "We draw too much attention together," Torres stated. Then he mustered a grin for the other two. "Besides, it'll help me worry less, knowing Parker's in safe hands."

      Parker quirked an eyebrow at that and Knight spluttered, but Torres was done talking. He checked that the coast was clear and darted out the way they'd come. A minute later, from what sounded like the direction of the stairwell, gunfire rang out, but so did Torres' taunts, and Parker and Knight heard what seemed to be stomps up the stairs…perhaps two armed men hustling after one spry and plucky Special Agent.

      "Remind me to smack him later," Knight growled, turning back to Parker and wheeling him in the chair through another couple doors, through a few more offices, until the background noise was too dimmed to be discernible.

      Parker snickered—and winced, since the movement jostled his shoulder too much. "Ah, you don't really want to smack Torres. It's…" He took a breath, closed his eyes in an attempt not to focus on his injury, and tilted his head up at her. "It's frustrating when someone's right and you know you can't argue with them."

      Knight twisted her lips around but nodded. Then she bent over a little, her eyes lingering on his face before returning to where she pressed just beside his shoulder. "My annoyance with him and my desire to round up Durmaz's men aside—we've got to stop your bleeding first."

      "Yeah, I won't argue with that."

      He smirked a little at the dry look Knight shot him, but she otherwise ignored the prod. Instead, Knight set her gun down within reach on the desk to her right. "All right. I, uh. I'm going to take my hand away, because I need to assess how bad it is… Are you ready?"

      Parker swallowed and gritted his teeth. "Just go for it, Jess."

      He closed his eyes, as if that'd help any, and the last thing he saw were those big, brown eyes of her go all round right before she lifted her hand away.

      The pressure from having her hand there hadn't been pleasant. But taking it away? Sudden pain flowed freely through him, racing like fire, and only the reminder that there were people here hunting them had Parker biting back a scream. He clenched his jaw, didn't care whether he broke any teeth—he needed to stay quiet. But fuck if it weren't near impossible to do just that.

      "I know!" Knight whimpered in undertones. With his eyes squeezed shut, he could only picture the expression she made right now, accompanying that wet voice, as if she'd been shot herself. "It hurts, I get that. But, Alden, I need to see— C'mon, lean forward, just a bit— Your jacket's in the way—"

      He curled around her arm partly, letting Knight shimmy his NCIS windbreaker off to assess the damage. The nerve endings around the bullet hole hurt so bad, Parker felt bile rising in the back of his throat. But he focused on breathing, on keeping quiet, on Knight's fingers along his back, on her voice.

      "Okay… Okay, I think this is good," she said. Her voice sounded so close, inches from his ear. She prodded the wound's exit on his back, quick to apologize when Parker hissed again. "I'm sorry! It's just— Look, I think it was a clean shot. There's nothing lodged in you, Alden. This is good."

      Parker swallowed a little bit of saliva in his dry mouth while she leaned him back against the chair. He sighed. "…it could be worse," he conceded. Then he noticed how red and damp Knight's eyes were. "What?"

      She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, which was clean compared to the fresh red on her fingers. "There's—just so much blood. Your jacket's a mess."

      He glanced down at the white shirt he'd worn to the office today. Even accounting for Knight's handprints, the bloodstains had dyed the thing well. "My jacket's my least concern right now." He tried shifting in the chair, but once more he winced. Slight movements were not helping his right arm, through which pain radiated.

      Knight shed her windbreaker. "We can make use of it, though," she said. She wound her windbreaker up, twisting the thin material and knotting it at the sleeves' cuffs. Knight slipped the makeshift sling over Parker's head and gently got his injured arm into place. Then she balled up his own jacket. It had a hole in the front and was in tatters on the back, but, balled up and tucked into his sling high up, it could apply pressure and keep Knight's hands free for her weapon. "There. That should help."

      Parker got to his feet with Knight giving him a hand up. "You're right, it—" But he stopped and gave Knight a partial twirl. His heart sank. "Jess, you're bloody."

      "What?" Knight finally noticed the red smeared along her right arm. "That's probably just yours…yOWCH! DAMMIT, Alden, you didn't need to press a finger to it to prove your point."

      She scowled at Parker's raised eyebrows. But he pulled away a bloodied fingertip from her right shoulder. "It's more than a graze. We need to tie it off."

      "Well, we're not exactly in their infirmary—"

      Parker didn't need the obvious stated. While he couldn't reach the knot behind his neck, he started to slip his bad arm free from the sling she'd placed on him.

      But Knight grabbed his left hand, stopping him. "Hey! Okay, okay… I hear you…" She moved about the office, checking the drawers and the lone file cabinet for anything useful, to no avail. "…well, maybe it's time to get moving. We might come across something in a different room."

      Parker frowned, but he conceded for now.

      The maze of offices turned out to be a fruitless endeavor. Each room was as empty as the last, with the exception of a broken chair or a desk missing drawers here and there. Eventually they left behind the management offices and found what Parker presumed were maybe research and development. These offices had supplies, but nothing that would help them right now. With Mullholland having made machinery and only machinery, he and Knight were surrounded by abandoned mechanical tools. There was nothing but metal and grease and oil cloths, at best—nothing they could use for a fresh wound.

      And fresh it was. Knight had panicked over Parker's blood, but he kept a close eye on her right arm as they moved throughout this part of the factory. His current worry had been replaced with the sight of the crimson stream that kept trickling down her arm, not stopping, not crusting. "Jess," he said, pausing their crawl by stepping in front of her.

      "We haven't found anything to use," she said.

      But Parker shook his head. "If you're not going to undo part of the sling, then tear my sleeve to use." He held out his left arm. The long sleeve of his formerly pristine Oxford stood in stark contrast with the short-sleeve tee she'd worn today.

      Knight frowned.

      "It's going to be the cleanest thing we find in here."

      She gave a little huff and scrunched her nose up at him. But then she was leaning down to reach into her boot. Knight straightened up with a small knife in hand. "This way at least I don't have to tear it."

      He snickered, which didn't hurt as much this time now that his arm was more secure. "You know, this is not the way I prefer you wear my shirts," he quipped.

      Knight laughed but glared at him all at once. "Do not make me laugh while I've got a knife in my hand…!" she scolded. She punctuated that with a little slap to his good shoulder as further reprimand.

      Parker grinned, in spite of their dangerous reality, and he assisted Knight in wrapping the crude bandage around her gash and knotting it, since it was difficult to do it on her own. But finally the stream of red had stopped, and he and Knight could catch their breaths. He ran his good hand through her hair.

      She rested her cheek in his palm.

      "Never a dull moment with this team. Hell, with this agency," he remarked.

      Knight nodded. "But at least it's not on a boat, right?" Her smirk was small…but it was fragile, too. The jest was halfhearted, at best.

      So Parker kissed her—brief but strong, trying to convince them both that they would get out of this situation. Alive.

      They pulled apart and resumed their scouring of the main floor. It was a nerve-racking process, since McGee's tablet signal hadn't been the only thing dropped once they'd arrived; despite hearing no static, Parker and Knight knew their comms were down. On top of that, though Knight was trained to use weapons with either hand, Parker would be shooting with his non-dominant hand when they next faced an opponent.

      The odds really were not swinging in their favor today.

      On this side of the factory, the main floor came to an abrupt end, culminating in a narrow staircase which Knight insisted Parker take first. They emerged on a short landing that opened up to three large overseers' offices set slightly above, beyond a wide, squat, four-step staircase.

      But Parker and Knight didn't have a chance to go investigate those rooms, because two heads with guns cocked emerged from the nearest office.

      Knight knocked Parker aside, taking one gunman out and nailing the other after the second got off one round and missed. She heaved a sigh of relief, which Parker echoed when she drew him back to her. "I think I've had my fill of excitement for—"

      But their reprieve lasted but a second before Parker saw movement out of the corner of his eye and returned the favor. He shoved his bad shoulder into her bad arm, but Parker blinked the stars from his eyes and sought the third gunman out, taking aim and pulling the trigger.

      The bullet hit its intended target, the previously hidden suspect, but this time groans followed the shot.

      Parker huffed, struggling to catch his breath as he and Knight leaned on each other, half propping the other up. Damn pain was still capable of winding him…

      "Stars in my eyes, Alden—let's try not to do that again," Knight said.

      "Ah, yeah… Sorry about that, Jess." He straightened up a moment after she did, though. Once certain they had their bearings, they shuffled over to the bleeding gunman hiding around the corner near the stairwell that had brought Parker and Knight up here.

      Knight squatted and propped the guy up. "You're gonna wanna start talking, buddy."

      He scowled at them and then laughed, never taking his hand away from where blood spilled in thick, little rivers from between his fingers where he covered a spot on the left side of his torso. "Nothing left to lose," he said, though his voice was raspy, and he was close to gasping.

      Parker frowned at his response. "Why's that? You guys abandoning ship?" Ice ran down his spine as a new possibility occurred to him. "Hey. Is this place rigged to blow?"

      The gunman rolled his blue eyes. "You know nothing," he spat, each word coming out in short spurts.

      "Durmaz," Knight said. "Is he here? Was he ever here today?"

      The guy shook his head. "Durmaz left yesterday. He doesn't take meetings at the crash pad."

      Knight looked up and locked eyes with Parker. "Crash pad?"

      Parker shook his head. "Nothing came up in what McGee or Kasie dug up on him."

      Knight jostled the guy awake. "Hey. Hey. What's the crash pad?"

      "Here," he answered. He looked at her with half-lidded eyes. "Only funny business here…no serious business…just…" He took a sighing breath. "Test runs," he finished.

      Parker gripped the handle of his SIG tighter. "Great. We've walked into their firing range," he mumbled.

      He felt Knight tense beside his leg. But she shoved the gunman, harder this time. "All right, so this is your playground. You've got the upper hand," Knight told their suspect.

      He grinned. "We do…"

      "Yes, you all do. So it won't hurt to tell us how many more of you there are."

      The gunman closed his eyes again. For a brief moment, Parker worried that he'd lost enough blood, that that sickly pallor wasn't for show and they were talking to a corpse now. But then his eyes snapped open. He stared up at Parker as if facing Death—then his eyes refocused when Knight moved into his line of sight. He licked his lips and stared at the ground. "…your friends are gone. There are another three of us. You won't make it out of here."

      It wasn't a threat. There was no heat in the guy's voice, nor any hint of nastiness. Perhaps a trace of pity.

      "…thank you," Knight said, standing up and backing away with Parker.

      The gunman said nothing. Even if he had anything else to offer, he no longer could.

      "While I doubt they got McGee and Torres, I believe him about his own friends," Parker said. They retreated towards the short landing and made their way across after they caught sight of something they'd missed before: a small platform looking out over the factory floor.

      "Ditto," Knight agreed. They descended from near the overseers' offices onto the outlook platform, which had been blocked in by glass windows back in the day. But the glass was long gone, leaving them with a pair of thick beams to hide behind.

      They were right to doubt the dying gunman. From up on the platform, Parker and Knight had a wide view of the empty factory floor and spotted McGee and Torres entering the floor from opposite corners. McGee was a little bloody and Torres was limping, but they each had their guns tracked on an assailant who knelt in the middle of the factory floor with his hands behind his head, offering surrender.

      Parker and Knight exchanged a skeptical glance.

      Knight leaned slightly over the ledge—and then she grabbed a fistful of Parker's shirt and pointed.

      No wonder one gunman was a sitting duck…or acting like it. The remaining two suspects were busy sneaking up behind McGee and Torres.

      Things were moving slowly below them, but Parker and Knight wouldn't have much time to intervene. He pulled her back towards the overseers' offices so they could plan and not risk being heard. "Jess—"

      Her eyes were wide. "No, I know. We can't call out to them. Things would go to hell in an instant."

      He nodded. But, worse than that, Parker made a decision that sat like soured milk in his stomach: "We have to split up—you take the right, I'll take the left."

      Knight's fear was clear as day on her stony face, along with a hint, maybe, of anger in that vein pulsing along her jaw, anger that she had to execute her least favorite tactic for the second time today.

      But Parker respected and admired Knight for not delaying.

      She didn't kiss him. She didn't reach out for him.

      Knight trusted him to know what he was doing, to lead them.

      Parker returned to the outlook platform while Knight ran the rest of the length in front of the overseers' offices. There was a small nook where there had to be another staircase, mirroring the one Parker and Knight had climbed before, but there was also an opening, and Parker could spy Knight aiming her gun from his position.

      The only problem now was that they hadn't determined a signal…no, that and Parker wasn't certain Knight could see him.

      Parker rested his gun on the ledge, primed at Torres' would-be attacker across the way.

      Off to Parker's right, he heard Knight scuff her boot, and a pebble tumbled down the nearest steps.

      Ah.

      So they did have a signal, after all.

      "NCIS!" Parker and Knight bellowed from above.

      Down on the factory floor, the sudden noise caught Durmaz's men completely off-guard. Knight's intended target froze, even. Parker's turned his attention from Torres up to the outlook platform to shoot, but Knight and McGee were quicker. McGee noticed the man behind Torres and popped off two rounds while Knight sent two into the center mass of the one behind McGee, leaving the man pretending to be bait to Torres, who tackled and cuffed him before he could reach the assault rifle lying within reach on the floor nearby.

      Knight's target lay motionless on the floor, but McGee's stirred, so McGee jogged towards him and propped the gunman up, cuffing his hands in front and applying pressure to where McGee's bullets had glanced off his collarbone. "Thanks for the perfect timing," he called up to Parker and Knight.

      "I did say we draw too much attention together," Torres teased, going so far as to cluck his tongue at them. Then he shrugged. "But thanks for keeping my beautiful face intact."

      Knight groaned, but Parker snorted. "Eh, just doing the job." That had McGee beaming up at him, and Torres snickered and shook his head.

      Parker backed away from the outlook platform, the adrenaline wearing off now that the factory was welcomingly quiet…for a heartbeat. The next thing he knew, Knight came running to meet him back out in front of the steps by the overseers' offices. And she didn't slow down one bit, crushing him in a hug when she all but crashed into him. "OW, ow, ow, ow, Jess, ow—"

      "OH, God, I'm so sorry, I just—"

      He winced but tried to muster a smile for her, especially when she helped him holster his gun.

      Then Knight cupped Parker's face in her hands, her brow furrowed even as she ran her thumbs along the whiskers below his cheekbones. "I hate those five words, you know."

      Parker frowned in confusion.

      "'We have to split up.'"

      "…ah." There it was, the sour milk, just for being reminded of his decision.

      Knight rested her forehead against his. "I know the context, and it was a good call, but—" She paused to gather her thoughts, and she managed to smile when she met his eyes. "—it was hard to follow, Alden. Fucking difficult. Just so you know, it'll be extremely hard to get rid of me."

      Parker chuckled, gently, and returned her smile as he wrapped his good arm around her waist. "No one's looking to get rid of you," he assured her.

      At that, Knight relaxed against him. This time, when they kissed, it wasn't so brief, but it still conveyed as much as the one earlier had…

      They had gotten out of this, together, alive. And Parker was glad to have someone like Knight by his side, looking to be here, through thick and thin.

8DDD SO! First off, hello, fellow Parknight fans~ I took a brief break (scheduled but not announced) and I'm v happy to deliver this first new Parknight after said break! :D This is actually the last of my pre-s19-finale ideas, *LOL*; I've had this thing outlined since May 7th (I was so busy with Parknight feels back in April and May, like whoa), and I'm ECSTATIC I finally found the time to fulfill this awesome request, bc the plot bunnies rly multiplied here. For one, the casual flirting btwn Parknight? Nonstop. But for two? My OC baddie, Alim Durmaz, who didn't even make a physical appearance, *lol*—I sincerely wanna write him againnnnn. Like. I have some fleshed out notes for him, folks. He needs to appear…! :3c Now, for my fellow OG NCIS fans, I will say I'm not big on the idea of Agah Bayar being dead…but I never actually said he's dead, so. ;) (Ngl, I always found Bayar to be super interesting, yo…and it's also been a while since I last watched s12, so here I am, debating with my parents as to whether he was killed off then??? Bc idr but if so, then this fic is slightly AU and rightly so, dammit. XD) ANYWHO. Lessee… Oh, this was mostly Parker whump but also some slight Knight whump for me, *lol*—I like seeing them take care of each other…! And I guess I gotta write the Knight whump myself. ;P (I just like the idea of him fussing over her and her being exceptionally stubborn. XD) Also, random, but it feels ironic in some ways and yet ultimately appropriate, that this is the first thing I write after "Zeptosecond." XDD (But also after **and this is a spoiler-free zone** the s20 opener that kinda left me wanting. ;P) Final thoughts: The title is a reference both to Parker's thoughts at the end and to his injury (it was a through-and-through gunshot wound). :3c The song "Lullaby of Birdland" gave me Parknight feels when I outlined this, initially (it feels like a good Parknight theme -w-). Btw, the main joke for me while writing this was every time Knight physically had to move Parker or smthg close—all I could think was, "Manhandling: when you gotta handle your man." X'DDD Also, this was done for the 5, 10, 20, 50, 70, 100 Fandoms Challenge as well as the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #818: reaper) in the HPFC forum on FFN. AHHHH, this was a lot of fun to write…! I hope you two enjoyed this, Pinkyeti38 and Kate…! ;w; And tysm for requesting. For everyone else: Don't forget you, too, can request fic or art or just come gush about Parknight or NCIS with me, and do check out the parknights tumblr when you need some PK sweetness for your soul~

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

[magnusbae]

To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:

A post in 2023:

A post in 2014:

A zoom out of the same post:

This is what a community looks like.

See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.

It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.

Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.

If you want more of something, reblog it.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Okay but a darling who tries their hardest to "fix" and train their yandere. They put up with every bloody, obsessive shenanigan in the hopes that they can have a semi-regular relationship with the person they thought they were dating. You see, everything was fine the first month of the honeymoon phase-- regular cute dates and normal presents like bouquets and nicknacks-- even if they were overly frequent. It didn't take long for Yandere's true colors to show, possessiveness chaining Darling to their home and rushes in relationship milestones that normally take years to achieve.

By the third month, Darling has moved into their Yandere's home. Sure, it's fast, but how else are they going to alter a bloodthirsty stalkers' bad habits? But Darling didn't realize how much of a chore it would be to handle their Yan 24/7. Other than the constant reassurances of love and physical affection, they have to talk them down from murdering any coworkers or adding a military-grade security system to the home in an event of Darling trying to escape break up with them.

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

" I love you, there's no one else, how could you accuse me of that!"

Even with Darling complying continuously, wearing the ankle bracelet their Yan begs them to keep on, not leaving (or atleast, not telling Yan when they do) the house without their loving spouse-- Yandere still has paranoid visions, imagining footsteps at night, clothes that belong to them that they think are from another. But Darling is persistent, denying any sort of sneaking around and consoling their Yan in the process. I mean, who could sneak around when all they do is think of and take care of someone else continuously? And even when Yandere gets threatening, drugging takeout that was supposed to be a fun surprise and keeping Darling in the basement for a week, Darling always waits patiently for them to come back to their senses, to negotiate and bribe their way back out when Yan brings meals and requests cuddle time.

Maybe once or twice they've worried about being murdered, but they know their Yandere just loves too much, has too much affection for them to rationally contain. So they see the beast as tameable, talking them down off ledge after ledge, never bolting even with open doors and free feet. But will that be enough to convince their Yandere, to satiate their fear of abandonement and desire to trap before their prey can even think of escaping?

[flamingtouya]

𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐩 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞) —

pairing: dabi + f!reader

word count: 4381

cw: getting to know each other (against your better intuition), flirting, bad flirting,some explicit language but nothing too bad, no quirk AU, dabi commits a crime or two

summary: In which Dabi meant to text Toga instead of a random stranger. But these things happen, and you were never one to shy away from troublesome men. This whole thing is told entirely through text messages.

a/n: check out my AO3 for different formatting! :)

Mar 02  10:07 PM

Unknown: Grab bleach while you’re out Unknown: And paper towels

You: who is this??

Unknown: So funny

You: u got the wrong number my guy 

Unknown: Shit Unknown: You don’t happen to have some bleach at your disposal rn? 

You: try the convenience store You: where’s the body at, anyways

Unknown: Ohara street by the fitness park, you should come check it out

You: sounds enticing You: i’ve always wanted to be on a true crime podcast

You: sort of expected myself to be the alive one though

Unknown: I was taught that women tend to be smart about stranger danger and stuff Unknown: You're out to prove me wrong

You: how’d you know i’m a woman? 🤨

Unknown: U sound cute Unknown: And men don’t listen to true crime

You: that’s so sexist You: and correct You: you'd do numbers on reddit

Mar 03 00:16 AM

You: hey don’t leave now

Mar 03 00:34 AM

Unknown: Had a body to take care of

You: you didn’t wait for me? :(

Unknown: … Unknown: Are u fr

You: ofc not You: i don’t hang out with edgelords

Unknown: Whatever u r probably boring anyways

You: entertaining enough for u to keep texting me

Unknown: We all have our moments of weakness 

Mar 03 01:09 AM

Unknown: So wyd

You: you don’t have anybody else to bother?

Unknown: I do Unknown: I want to bother you tho

You: damn, what’d i do to deserve this

Unknown: Is that a complaint

You: i have uni tomorrow and ur buzzing keeps waking me up

Unknown: Mute your phone, stupid 

You: can’t mute unknown numbers

Unknown: Save this one then Unknown: Or block me idc

You: what name should i put it under

Unknown: Dabi 

You: lmao i knew you were an edgelord

Dabi: Stfu

You: good night to you too

Mar 03  07:58 AM

You: fuck

Mar 03 3:56 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me that bad 

Mar 03 4:32 PM

You: i overslept and am blaming you entirely

Mar 03 5:19 PM 

Dabi: Sucks to be a useful member to society

You: why what do you do

Dabi: I'm actually a bit of a part-time freelancer, you regular uni folk just wouldn't get it

You: freelancing around ohara at 1 in the morning sounds like the truly fulfilling purpose we all long for You: did you just get up

Dabi: Hey now  Dabi: Yes  Dabi: I’m still in bed technically, looking at the ceiling fan is so interesting when I don't want to move a muscle

You: you are everything I am jealous of

Dabi: I promise you it’s not that good 

You: first time a guy’s been honest right away. i applaud u

Dabi: Omg no way 

Mar 03 5:40 PM

You: no way what

Dabi: No way you said something witty 

Dabi: Maybe you’re fun after all

You: i’ll have u know that deep down, i’m just a fragile being trying to make it thru this bitch of a world, running on fumes and caffeine all while chasing a childhood dream that i'll never be able to reach anyways because of my parents' expectations of me crushing my soul

Dabi: Damn, being vulnerable already 

You: your turn

Dabi: I’m not sad. My life is great and my parents never expected anything of me

Dabi: That was a lie 

You: so you’re a liar

Dabi: I suppose I might be

You: that counts as being vulnerable. i’m so proud of us. <3

Mar 03 9:12 PM

You: you probably have daddy issues

Mar 03 11:34 PM 

Dabi: Mind your business 

You: so i’m right

Dabi: Nosy sounds more like it

You: that’s a yes then

Dabi: When I tell you he SUCKS so bad 

You: LMAO You: i’m guessing you don’t particularly like your family then

Dabi: It's not the type of stuff I'd tell anybody, especially not to some nosy individual whose number is one or two digits off

You: alright i’ll stop digging You: wait how old are you You: am i talking to some 50 y/o dude You: please no

Mar 04 00:02 AM

Dabi: Chill I’m 48

Mar 04 00:06 AM 

You: say sike right now You: if u rly are then i’m half your age

Dabi: You thought Dabi: Are you actually 24 tho

You: give or take a few days lol

Dabi: When’s your birthday 

You: do you want my social and tax numbers while we’re at it

Dabi: Stfu I wanna see if I’m older 

You: 🤨 You: it’s at the end of this month

Dabi: Baby 

You: are u flirting with me or insulting me

Dabi: Can’t I be doing both 

Mar 04 06:30 AM

You: love me a guy who can multitask You: did you ever get your bleach and paper towels

Mar 04 11:11 AM

You: it’s 11:11 make a wish

Mar 04 2:02 PM

You: my wish is that you’d commit to a humane sleeping schedule

Mar 04 2:59 PM 

Dabi: Anybody hear sum 

You: i heard you’re a lazy bitch You: who doesn’t even do his own grocery shopping

Dabi: Maybe I do. Maybe I got the bleach all on my own like a big boy

You: X

Dabi: What's that mean

You: X for doubt You: it’s a meme

Dabi: Here I thought we were about to get spicy 😔

You: ew

Dabi: I was joking  Dabi: …unless 

You: has anybody ever told you that your flirting is immaculate

Mar 04 7:10 PM

Dabi: What do you study 

You: are you trying to find out my location

Dabi: Let it be known I’m terrible at geography and if I wanted to stalk you I'd already be on it

You: that’s a consolation You: forensic science You: i actually can’t wait for the semester to be over bc my professor is one of the most annoying individuals i have ever had the displeasure of meeting

Dabi: So you do have bleach 

You: never said i didn’t

Dabi: What do I have to do to make the list of annoying individuals. What's my current score

You: we haven’t met You: and i’m not sure if i’d survive u

Dabi: You have a point, I'm super nice tho

You: bet You: are you handsome You: asking for a friend You: the handsome ones are usually more annoying

Dabi: I'll say I’m frighteningly unique-looking 

You: ...well played

Mar 04 10:09 PM 

Dabi: My boss is making me do errand work in the morning like I'm some kind of functioning human being with principles Dabi: The next piercing I’m getting is a lobotomy 

You: thought you were “freelancing”

Dabi: Freelancing only gets you so far. You'll understand when you're my age

You: can't imagine what the back pain must be like You: do you have a tongue piercing 👀

Dabi: Perhaps I do

You: u r so mysterious You: tell me an opinion 

Dabi: Mint ice cream makes my teeth feel weird 

You: that’s not an opinion 

Dabi: Alright, more foods should have mint in them. And coriander. I want to make things inedible for 80% of the human population

You: nvm keep your opinions to yourself 

Mar 05 02:26 AM

Dabi: I've gotta burn this number. Txt u in a few 

Mar 05 05:16 AM

You: what are you, some kind of druglord This message could not be delivered.

You: I knew it This message could not be delivered.

Mar 0512:03 PM

You: ayo are you still there This message could not be delivered.

You: this is only funny if you come clean right now This message could not be delivered.

Mar 05 4:16 PM

You: "text you in a few" minutes? hours? days? This message could not be delivered.

You: just know that if it takes to long i'll forget about u This message could not be delivered.

You: won't even miss u This message could not be delivered.

Mar 06 09:00 AM

You: hello is this thing on This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 3:15 PM

You: my social security number is 6007 0023 6799 0324 This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 8:46 PM

You: eggs, vinegar, panko, sprite, sliced ham, parmesan, deodorant sencha if they have the good one ground pepper, lemon juice This message could not be delivered.

Mar 08 04:44 AM

Unknown: Am I still the man of ur dreams

You: I'm killing you You: violently

Unknown: I was hoping softly Unknown: With your song

You: are these messages being monitored You: am i a suspect

Unknown: If they were, could I write that I'm a ruthless baby killer anti-government fuck the police pro abortion the prime minister is an idiot bomb. bomb at the airport, terrorism, detonate Unknown: I guess now they are

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: just when i thought i'd have to find another witty asshole with a tongue piercing

Dabi: Aw you missed me Dabi: Does my tongue piercing make me hot be honest

You: what are my chances of getting an explanation for the past few days You: are u a murderer fr, that would be so cool You: i totally didn't use our abandoned chat as a grocery list btw

Dabi: The only thing I slay is pussy 😎

You: somehow i have doubts about that statement You: animal abuse is no joke

Dabi: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100, if you guess it correctly I'll tell u everything

You: 69

Mar 08 08:21 AM

Dabi: It was 72 Dabi: Because you were so close I'll give u one free question. But I want another one in return

You: you're a dirty little gremlin who plays dirty little games You:: do i get to ask a follow-up question

Dabi: No

You: in that case You: which of the following activities did you partake in? 1.) vandalism 2.) drug dealing 3.) drug trafficking 4.) violent crimes 5.) violent crimes that resulted in the death of one or more individuals 6.) assisting someone in a violent crime 7.) assisting someone in a non-violent crime 8.) theft 9.) robbery 10.) hate crimes against a minority 11.) politically motivated acts of defiance 12.) consumption of illegal substances 13.) running and/or hiding from law enforcement 14.) domestic terrorism 15.) human trafficking 16.) money laundering 17.) having a good time

Dabi: What the fuck Dabi: What is this, a multiple choice? Dabi: 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13 Dabi: My turn Dabi: What's your favourite food

You: fr, just like that You: that's your one question out of everything you could ask? am i really that boring

Dabi: I ask what I ask

You: spicy miso ramen with minced pork You: can we go back to the part where you ran from law enforcement

Dabi: Don't we all have demons that we run from Dabi: Mine are just a bit more persistent

Mar 08 10:52 AM

You: i want another question

Dabi: If you come up with one that's not related to the past few days, go ahead

You: fine i'll take it You: have you ever been caught and gotten in legal trouble for one of your… dubious activities

Dabi: Yeah

You: …and?

Dabi: That's another question. Gonna trade?

You: fine

Dabi: When I was 16, two Officers Of The Law 🐷 caught me dumpster diving behind a 7/11 Dabi: The dumpster diving wasn't the crime but because it was on private property they charged me with trespassing

You: damn, that's a lot of truth from u in just two sentences You: i wanna know ur tragic backstory so bad

Dabi: You could try to get me all sentimental for the 6 minutes after really good sex before the post nut clarity sets in

You: uh huh, taking notes You: anyway. you get one question. think hard

Dabi: If you couldn't have minced pork on your ramen, what would your second topping choice be

You: you're impossible

Mar 08 1:27 PM

You: tori karaage or extra ni-tamago i guess

Mar 08 2:23 PM

Dabi: Doesn't the Karaage lose its crispiness if it's in the broth for too long Dabi: I wouldn't know

You: please let me recommend you a good ramen place, you seem like you'd need it

Dabi: You have no idea. Take me out

You: like romantically? or are you asking me to murder you

Dabi: I love surprises

You: i just laughed out loud in the middle of my lecture

Mar 08 7:18 PM

Dabi: Need your forensic expertise for a sec

You: …oh no

Dabi: It's a purely hypothetical scenario

You: alright lay it on me big boy

Dabi: If a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person were to climb over a 4,60 meter high fence that has electrical wiring on it Dabi: What would the most likely way for them to die be?

You: this is not forensic at all You: how strong is the electricity You: is there a way to shut it off You: where would you hold onto the fence You: can it be damaged

Dabi: Not me, a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person

You: where would THE 176 CM TALL AND 67 KG HEAVY PERSON HOLD ONTO THE FENCE

Dabi: The only points that provide decent grip surface are the hooks holding the wires in place

You: so the most likely way to die would be electrocution You: will that be all

Dabi: How would one determine whether the electricity has been properly shut off Dabi: In the theoretical scenario that you couldn't get close enough to hear

You: the 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person should tap the wiring from the bottom with the back of their hand You: that way their fingers curl downwards and not around the wire You: so the person won't DIE from ELECTROCUTION

Mar 09 00:08 AM

Dabi: Excellent Dabi: Gonna do some field research Dabi: Will report back in maybe a day

Mar 09 08:01 AM

You: i'm gonna be so mad if you die before you've had decent karaage This message could not be delivered.

Mar 11 6:10 PM

Unknown: So it turns out that the person did not have to climb the fence after all. Pliers are such useful tools Unknown: Thanks for the electricity tip tho

Mar 11 6:39 PM

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: you're so hot when you're alive 

Mar 11 9:14 PM

Dabi: Do u think I'm a catch 😏

You: judging by the way law enforcement is trying to get their hands on you, i'd say you're pretty slippery

Dabi: The slipperiest Dabi: You couldn't handle me

You: i'd trap you using cheese and a paper box  You: put you in a jar and turn you into spicy miso broth 

Dabi: Would you hold the jar tight at night and tell me everything's going to be okay 

You: of course 

Dabi: I'm liking this scenario 

Mar 12 01:07 AM 

Dabi: Ever thought about what Mint Karaage would taste like

Mar 12 01:23 AM

You: i need u 

Dabi: Tell me more

You: to shut your mouth

Dabi: Are you trying to romance me

Mar 12 07:15 AM

You: i'm actually so upset right now  You: can i vent

Mar 12 07:27 AM

Dabi: Listening Dabi: Am I gonna have to get the tissues out

You: you're not empathetic enough for that 

Dabi: How would you know 

You: call it a woman's intuition  You: i just need someone to bother about my hot girl troubles

Dabi: Let's hear it girl  Dabi: Men ain't shit 💅

You: damn right they aren't You: but unrelated to that You: i ran out of my medication a few days ago and thought if i stretched the remaining 3 pills to last me 6 days i'd be able to make it till the end of the week  You: now my doctor's office is closed and i can't seem to get an appointment anywhere You: and i'm super jittery and on edge and almost had a panic attack just trying to make coffee

Dabi: What type of medication 

You: Ativan You: it's prescription only

Dabi: Nothing is ever "prescription only" 

You: i'm not gonna try some experimential backalley drug You: just feel like dying rn

Dabi: Who said anything about backalley? You actually came to the right guy for this  Dabi: What's the name of the nearest druggery 

You: ...fukuju pharmacy

Dabi: So I've been talking to a Setagaya girl 

You: only moved here for uni, hate to disappoint if ur expecting a wealthy maiden 

Mar 12 10:02 AM

Dabi: Don't you feel like getting a snack from the vending machine  Dabi: Specifically the one next to the pharmacy  Dabi: A bag of skittles sounds nice, doesn't it?

You: ? ? ?

Mar 12 10:34 AM 

You: did you commit a crime for me  You: how did you get your hands on actual fucking Ativan this fast

Dabi: I don't kiss and tell

You: did you follow me home  You: is this how i die

Dabi: You make it so hard to be nice to you Dabi: What do you think I am, a creep

You: if you were here i'd suck you off so good rn

Dabi: Whore Dabi: (Respectfully)

You: lmao ur right You: thank you for real though

Dabi: Stfu

Mar 12 1:33 PM

Dabi: Do u like cats

You: yes

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: Noodle thieving menace 

You: 🥹 You: that has got to be the fattest street cat i’ve ever seen

Dabi: He’s hella fast 

You: how does it feel to be the one chasing the culprit for once

Dabi: Not nearly as thrilling as being the one committing the crime 

Mar 13 00:00 AM

Unknown: Congratulations! You have been selected as an eligible member for a free trial of Osaka Daily Post. Unknown: If you would like information about your benefits, reply 'BENEFIT' Unknown: If you would like to stop receiving these messages, reply 'STOP' 

You: i know it's you shithead

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: this is the unfunniest you've ever been ngl

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: you're truly one of the most annoying individuals in my life

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: STOP

Unknown: LMAO you thought

Dabi was saved as a contact. 

You: i'm reconsidering if the tongue piercing is really worth it 😤

Mar 13 04:55 AM

Dabi: Any particular reason why you chose forensics 

Mar 13 06:09 AM

You: i've always admired criminals but been to scared to become one You: and if i know about psychotic assholes it might help me to steer clear of them, or so i thought

Dabi: Is it working

You: evidently not

Dabi: Use me in ur thesis  Dabi: I'll be your lab rat

You: nah you're more beneficial to me when you're not stuck behind bars You: what do you have me saved as in your phone

Dabi: I don't save contacts  Dabi: Especially not yours  Dabi: You mean nothing to me 

You: aww do you know my number by heart, that's adorable You: i'm kinda genuinely impressed at how persistent you are at bothering me, it's almost like you like me or smth

Dabi: No fr though lmao if anybody finds my phone you'd be on a list

You: do u delete these chats

Dabi: Always

You: that's so romantic You: admit it you're actually a softie

Dabi: Would that make you more interested in me  Dabi: Then I'm the softest 

You: what do i need to do to make you the hardest

Dabi: ... Dabi: There's absolutely no correct way for me to respond to that  Dabi: You've left me speechless 

You: 🥵🥵

Dabi: What's your worst quality  Dabi: Besides being an irresistible smartass  Dabi: *irritating 

You: was that a freudian slip You: you're so obsessed with me it's adorable

Dabi: Proving my point so diligently 

You: you don't seem like the kind of person who would use words like 'diligently' You: i'm rather talkative at times You: to the point where it gets unbearable to listen to me

Dabi: I never would've guessed

You: what's yours? You: besides the obvious

Dabi: Still putting up with you 

Mar 13 7:45 PM

Dabi: Wyd 

You: i burned my rice a little You: but it's edible

Dabi: Don't you have a rice cooker? Who raised you 

You: my very strict but sweet and committed grandmother who made the best teriyaki salmon in the whole world You: i'd kill another human being to eat her home cooked food one more time

Dabi: So your parents ain't shit either 

You: eh, they're alright You: they're Business People overseas and aren't around a whole lot, means i get my own place though You: so i can have visitors at any desired hour 😏

Dabi: Omg sick Dabi: Me next

You: it was implied

Mar 13 11:11 PM

Dabi: Ok but do u actually wanna meet up sometime  Dabi: No strings attached ofc 

You: i'm down

Dabi: What if I'm a creep after all

You: if anything, it means i won't have to attend my lecture about carbon dots tmrw

Dabi: I can't tomorrow  Dabi: What about the day after Dabi: I'll give u my credit card info if it makes you feel more safe, don't bother trying to buy anything with it tho, you'll be disappointed

You: you may not show it a whole lot, but are you actually a considerate person? You: the day after sounds good

Dabi: Preem

You: oreryu shio ramen, right by harajuku station You: about time you had some good karaage You: my treat You: unless that's too far away for u

Dabi: I would fly across the world for u Dabi: Yes Harajuku works fine

Mar 14 08:49 AM

You: how will i recognise u You: what do u look like

Dabi: As my dad once said. I'm impossible to miss 

You: i laughed

Dabi: Guess it was all worth it then  Dabi: Do tattoos scare you

You: i was gonna ask cause there's no way you got only a tongue piercing and nothing else You: stand there with your tongue out

Dabi: Shouldn't we at least get to know each other before 😳

You: don't get any ideas  You: i don't intend to fuck u You: ...for now

Dabi: That's a relief, I thought I might have to file a restraining order afterwards 

Mar 14 1:42 PM 

Dabi sent an image. 

Dabi: If u see this guy u can still run the other way 

You: hhh fuck You: are u trying to intimidate me You: how do you have so many tattoos but no bedframe

Dabi: Cut me some slack, I just moved into this place 

You: fair warning i'm not as hot as u

Dabi: Bet 

You sent an image. 

Dabi: Why do women always lie. I thought you were better. I thought you were different

You: 😳 You: i'm actually worse

Dabi: We're such a good match

You: don't get ahead of urself. u r still a guy with no bedframe

Dabi: Please shut up

Mar 14 4:16 PM

Dabi: To be clear I'm not bringing flowers or anything  Dabi: And I'm actually willing to let you pay this time lol 

You: you have such a unique way with words 

Dabi: A bit tight on money rn but I'll pay u back some other way 

You: can we make that the first line in our sextape  You: dw i said it's my treat and i mean it You: does that make you feel emasculated

Dabi: Who would I be to say no to free food tf Dabi: If there's a next time I can take you out for drinks  Dabi: Nothing fancy but an old friend of mine owns a bar downtown and his girlfriend mixes a killer mule 

You: if you're gonna poison me after gaining my trust over my favourite food i will be incredibly sad 

Dabi: Give me some credit here. I'm trusting u to not rat me out to law enforcement 

You: you're giving me ideas You: is there a bounty on your head

Dabi: I'm not that important 

Mar 14 9:44 PM

You: so you're just too good to get caught

Dabi: Both flattering and factually correct Dabi: For the record I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it 

You: thanks for clarifying  You: i feel so safe now 

Dabi: Anytime  Dabi: If you're having second thoughts lmk before 10 am so I won't spend time getting ready for nothing 

You: 10 am is crazy  You: u r so vain 

Dabi: Alright then I won't 😔

You: i take it back You: be pretty for me

Mar 15 5:30 AM

You: can't sleep 

Mar 15 7:12 AM

Dabi: How the turntables  Dabi: Are you alright

You: yes  You: it's the good kind of sleepless 

Dabi: It's fine if you're having second thoughts, I won't hold it against you at all  Dabi: Just texting like this is nice too

You: fuck no i wanna meet the man behind the screen You: the myth, the legend, the crimelord himself 

Dabi: I'm never showing consideration for ur wellbeing ever again 

You: should've ghosted me before i got attached

Mar 15 9:54 AM

Dabi: Last chance to bail gracefully  

You: you make it so tempting 

Dabi: Getting out of bed then 

You: it's not a bed if it doesn't have a bedframe

Dabi: Shut, and I mean this in the gentlest way possible, the hell your mouth

Mar 15 12:08 PM

Dabi sent a location pin.

Dabi: Is this the place

You: that's the one  You: be there in a few minutes 

Dabi: I'm waiting outside 

Mar 15 12:13 PM

You: omg i think i see u You: im shy

Dabi: U literally have so much blackmail material on me 

You: give me a second You: alright I'm coming over This message could not be delivered.

[teethkid67]

PAYDAY

aka a valentine for the lovely @itsnotmystic / @corvids-calling - fanart for stars fic of the same name, which you can read here !!! i really enjoyed this concept and wanted to do some art for it :3 hope you like it because i REALLY loved your work & i hope this shows that !!! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!!!

this is also a loose love-letter to the wonderful @arginnit 's crazy background-drawing-ability and style/skill at portraying environments . wadds your stuff is insane and i love it

happy @mcyt-valentines exchange !!!!

[noxious-fennec]

3 years and I'm STILL IN THE FUCKING BUILDING... unbelievable... anyway happy re-bday to my pathetic cringefail politician

Alt ver. under the cut

***Massive disclaimer: i do not support the cc this is strictly about the fictional character

[bleue-flora]

Ok, I recently wrote an essay [here] talking about the definition and duties of civil engineering as well as the ethics because of the brain rot @swordfright gave me with calling Dream Sam’s ultimate engineering project. So, because I actually am a civil engineer I took it upon myself to design the title and summary of quantities sheets just like I do at work for roads but with Dream as the project instead. And in honor of angst day sponsored by @sixteenth-day-event, I figured I’d share it because I feel like it kinda works for the prison of the mind prompt.

“Sam’s “ultimate engineering project” he deemed too damaged like a bumpy road or crumbling building that wasn’t worthy of patching and filling in the cracks or reinforcing, that’s too eroded to be fixed and preserved. So, Sam strived to tear him down to the bedrock so he could remake, remold, and reengineer Dream according to his design for the common safety, public health and well-fair.”

{These are very similar to the actual sheets I make day to day, which I shall not share for the sake of doxing my location, but yea pretty much everything has a significance. Some of it doesn’t necessarily make sense but that was because I was more so taking inventory of what we see in lore (so you know I counted ;) lol)}

[tblsomedoodles]

The Preferable Alternative - part 13

Start - previous - next

Alt-Don has no immunity to Mikey's puppy eyes stare : )

[llumimoon]

@kaseyskat and I have been scheming up this AU since April and the latest episode gave the both of us massive brainworms so we're finally posting about it!!

Welcome to the Perfectly Regular AU <3 It's Scary and Normal centric and takes place shortly after the Hell Arc, it diverges from canon when Scary rejoins the teen's side and Willy decides she's a lost cause, causing him to shift gears into a different plan. Scary notices that Normal's been acting really weird lately- and what's this about homunculi?

Nyx has written the first installment of the AU here please go check it out!! :D

edit: here's part two btw <3

[vapolis]

first meeting: echo

"What does your boss have to say about it?" "He doesn't mind," they say and it's almost convincing.  "No?" "If he does, he can take it up with me." Then they look at Echo again. Grin, this one just a little more convincing than before but not by much and Echo thinks, who is it that helps you when you need them to?

ko-fi

[awesomehoggirl]

GUARDIAN ANGELS?

[spaciebabie]

you get ta college and realize that everybody here is just Some Guy™ and has been Some Guy™ for their whole lives. the veteran seniors are having breakdowns right next ta the freshmen in the library, our final essays for the semester are started and finished two days b4 its supposed ta b turned in and all our rough drafts look like somebody rubbed 3 braincells on a google doc and then puked on it

[oceans-beloved]

Meme dump yayyy🥳✨️

(off to make more now muhahaha >:3)

[nuclearanomaly]

something something First AU? pose ref

[themratts]

A Surprise For Papa

[ A mysterious 'gift' arrives at the ministry, addressed to Copia, and he's not quite sure what to make of it ]

Rating: Teens and Up (May be subject to change)

Chapter One • Delivery (word count : 2.3K)

—— 🍼

It was easy enough for Papa to get into the zone when it came to his ministry work. Despite how tedious and time consuming it could often be, by now, at his age, he was more than familiar with the grind and it came simply enough to him every day.

He’d sit, at his usual deskspace with his usual documents and reports and church budgets and he’d scribble away at them for as long as he had to. The trick was not to get knocked out of his focus once he was already in. That in itself, was the hard part. As he set his coffee mug down, three sturdy knocks met the door of his study, and when the Ghoul’s voice followed, Papa knew he was in for a long day.

“Hey,” Before Copia could even respond, the door was being opened and his eyes were greeted by the sleek and feisty figure of the fire ghoul. Dewdrop leaned against the doorframe, he told him, “Something’s here for you,”

“What?” That was odd. Not that things - fanmail, letters, whatever else - never came for him, but they were commonly delivered to his personal chambers. The odd part was the way Dew had shown up just to tell him about it, “Here for me?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it?” He asked but the ghoul only shrugged.

“Haven’t opened it. But it’s weird.”

Copia wasn’t sure if he was more curious, or worried. He turned in his chair now, papers forgotten for the moment. “Weird how?”

“Come and see for yourself,” As he left, Dewdrop flicked his tail and then it disappeared into the hallway. Papa knew he shouldn’t. He needed to stay, to get things done. Yet, he couldn’t help the urge to follow him. As if something was pulling him from his chair. Copia rose to his feet, and made his way after the ghoul in the distance.

He led him through the hall and down the main staircase. Before turning, and gearing them into the ghoul livingspace. A widened room with separate halls that would lead to ghoul dormitories, but the open area served as a nice space for them to hang out. Ahead, Papa could see two ghouls crowded around a small table. And when he got closer, he recognized them to be Aether and Swiss. Aether was especially close to whatever was on the table, nose twitching when he sniffed so curiously. Dew stepped to the side, hands on his hips.

“Guys, move.”

The other ghouls looked up, and backed away when Copia approached. Now that he could see what they were looking at, he was even more weirded out. A basket, it looked like, covered by a lumpy, stuffed-in sheet with a single folded piece of paper sat atop. A note, it looked like. It simply read “Papa” on the front. Copia’s brows furrowed, creasing the paint on his forehead. He looked at the mysterious package, to his ghouls, and then back down.

“Where did you get this?”

“It was left at the gate this morning,” Swiss answered, crossing his legs where he sat on the other side of the table.

“The gate?” Copia almost laughed, “This isn’t a prank, is it?”

“Nope,” and Dew shoved his clawed hands into his pockets, “Although that’d be hilarious.”

On the other side of Papa, Aether was taking another step back. He shook his head and crossed his arms, “It smells so strange,” He noted, tilting his head, “You should open it.”

“It smells strange? What does it smell like?”

All three ghouls exchanged a look. A hard to read expression, but it was enough to creep Copia out. He shivered, and when none of them answered, he reached instead for the note that was laid atop the blanket. It was written in unfamiliar handwriting, on thin, ordinary lined paper. He scanned the front and the back, before flipping it open. In big letters on the inside, the words read,

“Your problem now.”

Disturbing. A deeper confusion coursed through him and Papa turned back to his ghouls, “you are sure this isn’t a prank?”

“Not a chance,” Dew raised his hands innocently. Feeling defeated , Copia once again forced his attention back to the basket. He was almost scared to open it. He felt a pressure in his chest, an uneasiness. The circumstances were just so weird. But what choice did he really have?

“Alright,” He sighed. And Copia let his gloved fingers grace the edge of the basket. He hovered there for a second, before moving again. And when he did, he jumped backwards. Something inside the basket had moved, too. “Wh-what the hell!?”

“Dude,” Dew pushed him forward, “Open it!”

“What is it!?”

“We don’t know any more than you do.” A blatant lie.

Papa grumbled. He went to push and rub at his temples but halted when he remembered his face paint. He had to resort to a groan instead.

The thought that whatever was in the basket was alive was both alarming and very concerning. His hand crept forward to the blanket again, as he decided not to waste anymore time in getting to the bottom of it. Carefully, he removed the sides from their tucked position, and lifted the blanket from the basket.

It was barely in his hand for a second before he’d dropped it in shock. Papa gasped, stumbling backward and letting his mouth drop open. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to be inside- but it definitely wasn’t that. A tiny, wrapped up, sleeping little baby.

“What-what the fuck!?” He yelled , slapping his hand to his head. Way, way too startled to care about his paint anymore, “what.. what!!?”

The ghouls were looking at each other, but none of them seemed as surprised. They’d known, of course, what was in there the whole time- from the moment they’d picked it up, the sound of the infant’s heartbeat had been a giveaway.

Copia spun around to them, “what is the goddamn meaning of this!?”

But Dew shrugged, “I feel like we should be asking you that,”

“che cazzo vuoi dire!?”

“I mean, it’s pretty obvious,”

“No it isn’t!?”

“Well,” Swiss leaned forward on the table, “it must be yours.”

“My…..” Copia felt like he’d just hit a brick wall. His stomach absolutely dropped, and he stared blankly at the small baby in confusion and disbelief. “..it… n-no, it can’t be. It can’t be,”

“Why the hell else would it be here?”

“It-It’s not mine.”

“Dude-“

“It isn’t!” Stressed, Copia’s fingers raked through his hair, “It-It just can’t be!”

“Hey, Relax,” Aether placed a hand, soothingly to Copia’s back. Well, about as soothingly as pointed claws can manage, “we’ll figure this out,”

Inside the basket, all the commotion had begun to rouse the sleeping infant. Its hands grabbed weakly at the sheet it was swaddled in , eyes barely opening. Copia just watched. He could hardly breathe.

It… it couldn’t be….

..Could it?

Dew’s tail thumped against Copia’s leg, “why the fuck would someone leave you with their baby if it’s not yours?”

“Can you, please…” Papa groaned. He pulled a chair out from the table and slumped himself into it. “I need… to think for a minute. I just… oh my god…”

Swiss leaned a little closer. Nose angled toward the baby’s hair, “little thing’s super fresh too,” he said, then looked up, “what were you doing nine months ago? Or. I guess. Who?”

Copia remained slumped against the table. He shook his head, “how-how should I know..”

“Nine months ago… nine…” Aeth suddenly snapped his fingers, “We were still out on tour nine months ago,”

The realization settled in on all of them, and all three ghouls slowly turned their heads toward Papa. He was staring blankly at the table, unmoving, stiff as a board but the piercing red that painted his ears was a clear indication that he was in fact, still listening.

“..So, did you..?”

“-on tour?”

“I mean, that’s about right, but-”

“Please.” Copia groaned and leaned back in his chair. His head was pounding, even as he tried to think back to however many months ago, just entertaining the idea that this baby was somehow his had him shaken. What were the chances of this!? He felt… extremely unprepared. “Just… just let me breathe for one moment..”

The ghouls managed to silence themselves, and exchanged looks instead. They weren’t entirely sure how to feel, either. As humorous as it partially was, this was also a very, very serious deal. If this was, in fact, the child of an Emeritus.

The baby made a small, fussy noise and flexed its little hand again. Aether reached forward, allowing it to grab hold of his claw. He smiled, “Cute,”

“Do you think it came from on tour?” Dew asked, and leaned forward on the table beside Papa. The man was quiet for a second, mind running a mile a minute. It was moments until he answered. Quietly, palm against his forehead.

“It’s… it’s not impossible,” he groaned, “but-but unlikely, no? This wasn’t.. I mean, I..”

“I guess you’re a father now,” Dewdrop suddenly slapped him on the back, “Congratulations,”

“Fermare, we don’t know that,”

“There is literally no other reason this baby would be here right now,”

“You know, it’s addressed to ‘Papa’ and not to ‘Copia’, notice?” Aether pointed out, then. He picked the card up, and flipped it around on all sides, as if in search of a clue, “Maybe it came from someone inside the ministry? You know, a congregational member?”

Swiss shrugged, “Yeah, but on tour?”

“Those Sisters who come along and help out backstage?”

“Ohhhh,”

They both looked to Copia, awaiting an answer or reply but he just sat there, blank look on his face. His eyes descended toward the baby in the basket, who was looking at him now, too, and smiling. His heart felt a million things at once, “I can’t believe this..”

“What about a DNA test?” Aether suggested with a shrug, “You know, just to make sure.”

“Yes,” Papa swallowed. It was almost like the reality had started to settle in, and the longer he gazed upon the infant the realer it started to feel. Was it true? Was he really a father now? And if that were the case… who the hell was this baby’s mother?

He felt regret, fear and uncertainty. Guilt. Copia leaned forward, exhaling deeply and covering the upper part of his face with his already paint-stained gloves. He shook his head, mumbling something not quite audible. The ghouls looked at each other. And Dew took a step back, “I’m gonna go get Sister,”

“No,” Copia lifted his head, “Please, per favore, she cannot know about this!”

“What?” The ghoul let out an amused hiss, one of laughter, “You expect to hide an entire baby from her?” He could practically see Papa sweating.

“we-well… eh…”

“They’re gonna know about this one way or another.”

He knew they were right. Groaning again, Copia just shook his head and slumped back in the chair. He didn’t notice when Dewdrop turned and left the room, but even then, he didn’t care. His body felt numb, and he stared and stared at that little bundle on the table. How could something so small carry such a heavy weight of responsibility? He couldn’t even imagine what this would do to his schedule. To his… everything. Copia trembled.

“I.. I-I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a baby,” And Aether placed a hand on his shoulder, patting it there.

“It’s alright,” He did his best to comfort, “You’ll figure it out,”

“How could this have happened…” Papa shook his head, slowly. And when he turned, and looked up at the ghoul beside him, his eyes appeared damp, “How could I be such an idiot?”

“You aren’t an idiot,”

“The thought of..” He paused, and his lip quivered. Copia turned his head away, emotions hitting him somewhat suddenly. He told him, “...the thought of someone, someone carrying my child, while I am far away, with no idea, no way to care for her, to be there or to help… that breaks my heart,”

“Hey,” Aether continued to pat his shoulder, “Hey, It’s alright. And… besides. She seemed to know where you are, yeah? She left the baby here. So.. if she’d wanted you for anything, don’t you think she’d have reached out?”

Papa hung his head, low. The words weren’t nearly as comforting as they might’ve sounded. Whoever this woman was, she likely wanted nothing to do with him. Nor with the baby, apparently. The longer he thought about it, the sadder he became.

Copia rose from his seat. The baby gazed up at him, eyes wide and curious, and made a small babbling sound. The man sighed, “I don’t know. I don’t know.. where this came from, or what’s going on here, but. We certainly aren’t going to leave it here, and certainly not without a home.”

From the basket, he lifted the little baby, still wrapped and swaddled in its blankets. It was warm, precious, and when its little head lay against him he felt himself melt. He mumbled quietly, “You are certainly adorable..” And brought one finger up to let it grab. The baby giggled, gently when it did and Copia couldn’t fight his smile. “I wonder if you have a name,”

“I guess you’ll pick the name,”

“I guess…” Papa sighed. He only watched, still and mesmerized by the tiny being in his arms, how sweet and sound, and resting on the possibility that this baby was his own. He just couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t. It had been so quick, so sudden. And yet.. after only ten seconds in his arms, Copia knew. If this baby was his… if it was really true. He wouldn’t stop at anything to be the best, the best Papa that he could possibly be.

[jubilantmedusa]

Untitled Zukka Hurt/Comfort Ficlet #1 (because practicing drawing means I need to write little mini fics I guess...)

“You’re sick.” Sokka’s voice was as calm as the surface of water on a still night. Not a hint of accusation or contempt. No softness, no sting. Only observation. Reflection.

Zuko took a breath, deep to sooth his limbs that were threatening to shake. “I’m fine.”

Sokka frowned, and Zuko felt a knot form instantly in his stomach. His shivered, vision swimming as he saw the flash of another frown, superimposed. A different frown. Harsh. Sharp.

Sokka’s movements were calm. Fluid. Gentle as he raised his hand to Zuko’s forehead and pressed with just the right amount of pressure. “You have a fever.” Zuko felt his heartbeat pick up as Sokka’s lip began to curl, but as his expression settled Zuko realized that Sokka wasn’t angry, just concerned.

Zuko breathed deeply, pinning his arms to his sides before the other boy could notice that he was shaking now. Only, he must not have been fast enough because Sokka dropped his hand from Zuko’s forehead to grab Zuko’s trembling fingers. 

“Your hands are freezing.” Sokka hand tightened around Zuko’s as he pulled it upwards, pressing it against his mouth. Zuko couldn’t stop his hands from shaking even harder as Sokka’s breath warmed his skin.

—

“I can do that.” Zuko reached to grab his sleeping bag. “I’m fine.” Sokka lifted it over his head like they were kids playing keep away. Zuko huffed, crossing his arms, but let Sokka keep it.

“You’re not fine.” Sokka spread of the blanket. “How long have you been feeling sick?”

“Ugg.” Sokka paused. He looked up, holding  Zuko’s gaze until Zuko finally drawled, two days? maybe three.”

“Three days?!” Zuko felt his pulse quickening again, his shoulders bracing. “Why didn’t you say anything!” Even though Sokka’s voice voice was high he didn’t sound angry. In fact… Sokka’s eyebrows were scrunched, lips pressed thin. “You were training Aang this morning. Zuko, you shouldn’t be bending like that if you’re sick “ Sokka was worried.

“I’m fine.” How many times had Zuko said that now? “It’s just a fever. It’ll go away.”

“I mean, sure it will, if you rest. Can you, uh…” He gestured towards the sleeping bag, laid out and waiting.

“Oh.” It felt awkward to lower himself down when his legs felt so much like jelly, Zuko was sure it wasn’t graceful. But Sokka didn’t say anything, just stood there, eyebrow raised. Waiting. Zuko realized, then, that he was supposed to lay all the way down. So he did, somehow feeling boneless now that he wasn’t holding himself up. 

He blinked as Sokka settled a blanket over to his shoulders. It took Zuko and absurd number of seconds to realize that it was a blue blanket, one of Sokka’s own. Woven. Thick. Soft.

“Comfortable?” Sokka asked. When Zuko met his eyes he smiled.

It was nice, seeing Sokka smile. Zuko wanted to smile back, but he… there was a quivering in his stomach. Not sickness, just… waiting. “I’m fine,” Zukp said. When Sokka raised an eyebrow, he added, “I… feel fine.”

“I doubt that,” Sokka said.

“I do,” Zuko insisted. Yes, his body felt suddenly heavy. And his skin buzzed strange sensitivity that made event he gentlest touch feel like a scratch. But he was lying on his side, on something soft, and he was warm. “I… thank you.”

Sokka shrugged. “I didn’t do much,” he said. “Do you need anything else?”

Zuko thought for a moment. “Water?” He croaked.

“Coming right up, bud.”

Zuko let his eyes close for a moment, just listening to the sound of Sokka’s footsteps as he went back to the packs, the rustling of fabric as he was digging through something. Then there was a feeling, something hard brushing his fingers. Zuko opened his eyes to see a small, green glass. “A Ba Sing Se souvenir cup?”

“It was on sale,” Sokka said, chuckling. “Drink it. It’s medicine.”

“For what?” Zuko asked.

“The fever?” Sokka reminded him. “Do they… umm… not treat fevers in the Fire Nation or something?”

“Of course they do.” Zuko propped himself up just enough to tip the bitter liquid into his mouth before settling down again.

More sounds of shuffling as Sokka lowered himself, and then Zuko felt weight on his back as Sokka pressed into him, a hand settling itself onto his arm. Sokka’s touch was firm, but quiet. Soft. Sweet. “But not yours?” Sokka sounded sad.

Zuko swallowed. He remembered that feeling, tossing and turning as his skin crawled and his stomach churned. Waking up with a sweat drenched face but father still expected Zuko to do his katas. Run through his katas, go to school, sit up straight. There was punishment for slouching, even if he only slouched because he was shivering so hard he couldn’t mind his posture. “We were being trained to rule, Azula and I. Countries don’t stop because you have a cold.”

Sokka didn’t say anything, just started rubbing his arm. 

“You can rest now,” Sokka said after a while. “I can take care of you.”

Take care of him? Zuko tried to remember the last time someone had taken care of him. His Uncle had tried, of course, but Zuko had always pushed him away. He couldn’t let himself be seen that way - weak, sick. So he ignored the quiver in his Uncle’s voice when Iroh spoke to him from the other side of a metal door. And before that… before that his mother would, when father would let her. When Zuko was so sick that she’d block his bed with her body to keep father away, even if it cost her. Then sit with him and fuss his hair back with slender fingers.

“I’ll take good care of you,” Sokka said.

Zuko took a deep breath in. Not a sigh, just a breath, one to fill him up. He could feel his heart starting to race again, but... nicer this time, with Sokka so warm and solid against his back. He let the breath out. Slow. Controlled. Eyes still closed, he whispered, “Okay.”