#like I'm sure they've done it where him not being able to get a word out was the entire joke

[krawdad]

Wait have they actually taken away porky's stammer that was like all he had

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language, violence, oral (male receiving)

Chapter Word Count: 5306

—-MDNI—-

A/N: kind of an odd chapter tbh, there was a few things that I wanted to write so it felt best to squeeze them all in together. I want to start getting into the romance side of things with Dean, so I guess that starts here. Also I’ve been away sick so I’ve added a bit of spiciness.

New readers start here: Prologue

Previous Chapter: Chapter 13

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 14

I grasped the hanger off the rail and slung the pair of flared jeans over my arm to join the other items I was purchasing. Dean had been kind enough to give me a hundred bucks in cash - God knows where from - to get myself whatever I needed whilst he and Sam sauntered off to the menswear stores. As I browsed, lifting a crocheted crop top up before scrunching my nose at the thought of how little it would cover, the bell to the store jingled as someone else walked in. I heard footsteps slowly pace down the short aisle I was in, and as I placed the top back on the rail, I almost jumped out of my skin as someone started talking.

“Oh hey, it's (Y/n) right? You're bunking with the Winchester boys?”

I snapped my head up at the female voice, not expecting anyone out here but Sam and Dean to know my name. My eyes met a pair of warm brown ones, faint crows feet in the corners from years of joy and smiles. I recognised her; she was the short haired woman in the bunker kitchen the night we got back from the strip club.

“Uuhhhh ye- yes! You know Sam and Dean?” My expression was clearly confused as she grinned and held out her hand.

“The names Jody Mills. I've known the boys for a while now - through hunting. It's a pleasure to meet you at last - I've heard great things about you,” I juggled the clothing in my arms and grasped her outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake. She seemed to grin at that.

“Oh, they talk about me? I had no idea,” I suddenly felt a little nervous, the knowledge that I've been the topic of conversations unbeknownst to myself made me sweat a little. Jody seemed to notice this.

“They've only had great things to say, so don't panic! Especially that boy Dean. Not sure how you've done it chick but you really got that wild card wrapped around your little finger,” she raised her eyebrows almost suggestively and I felt heat start to prickle my skin.

“Wh-what? No no no, he's not-” I watched as her head tilted in my direction, eyebrows still raised as a slight grin tugged on her lips. “Have I really?”

She hummed and nodded her head, starting to flick through the clothing rail that I'd been looking at before.

“I've known that boy a few years now, and I've never seen him run to anyone the way he ran to you that night you appeared in the kitchen, looking like a kicked kitten,” she smiled softly and squeezed my arm, “you're something special to him honey, so try not to break his heart.”

“Oh,” was all I managed to say, with what I can imagine was the dumbest look on my face as I felt myself getting redder by the second. A phone ringing suddenly pulled me from my dazed thoughts as Jody reached into her pocket and answered the call. She spoke in a sterner tone than what she'd used with me, and after a few words were exchanged she hung up and returned the device to her pocket.

“I've gotta get going, but I'll try and catch you all again later. I'm in the area for a bit so I'll try and pop by. It was lovely to meet you (Y/n),” she squeezed my arm one last time before turning to leave, the bell on the door signalling her departure. I stood for a moment, my mind spinning from what she'd said about Dean. There was absolutely no way that what she'd said was true. I mean, I beat the crap out of him when we first met, and we've bickered a lot. I guess we've not argued for a good few days. And we've had sex. Oh the sex. I bit my lip as thoughts of us tangled in his sheets came to mind. Not just thoughts, but memories. Like I said to him this morning, we're just fuck buddies. Right?

*

Leaving the store with two large paper bags in one hand and my phone in the other, I first dialled Sam to find out where he was down this stretch of high street. When it went to voicemail, I hung up and dialled Deans number instead. It rang and rang, and when I thought his was going to ring through as well, he finally answered.

“Hey sweetheart, what's up?”

“Hey, I'm finished getting what I need. Whereabouts are you?”

“Uhhh…” I heard him turn to the shop assistant and ask for the name of the store he was in before he relayed it to me.

“Cool, I'll be there in two minutes. See you soon.”

“See ya.”

And with a click I hung up and tucked my phone into my back pocket and walked no more than two hundred yards to get to where he was still trying on boots. As I gingerly walked in, well aware it was a men's store and I was currently the only woman in here, Deans head snapped to the door when the arrival bell jingled.

“Hey sweetheart, you're just in time! I have no idea what to get.”

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the thought of the great Dean Winchester getting stumped by the more domesticated side of life.

“Well I'm here to help,” I placed my bags on the bench next to his discarded jacket. “What are the options?”

We must've spent half an hour going over the ones he'd shortlisted, then he chose an entirely different pair anyway, unrelated to the ones he'd picked out for himself.

Leaving the store and a quick phone call between the brothers, we all concluded that now was the best time to stop for lunch. Dean and I made a quick trip back to Baby to drop off our bags, with Dean opting to sport his brand new boots in favour of his old and decrepit ones. It was a short walk back to the high street now that we were bag free, and I could see Sam a mile off - his tall frame loitering outside the chosen diner, the occasional woman walking past throwing a few looks his way. He, of course, was oblivious to those looks, and when he spotted us as we neared he offered a wave. He sprouted a wide, friendly grin as we came to stand next to him.

“You guys get everything you need?”

“Yep! Took Cinderella a while to find the right boots but we got there in the end,” I flashed Dean a playful smirk as he tilted his head in slight annoyance at the nickname, which pulled a light hearted laugh from Sam.

“Oh yeah? Well, at least I didn’t spend twenty bucks on a thrifted Carhartt hoodie.”

“Hey that is durable shit, it’s worth every penny.”

“You could've had one of mine, I don't wear hoodies much anymore.”

“I somehow feel like there'd be a catch with that.”

“Uuhh, I got my jacket, if anyone cares?” Sam decided to interject, and we both turned to look at him.

“Good for you Sammy.”

“Yeah, nice one Sam,” I looked around for a second, not seeing any bags, “where is it?”

He gave me a funny look.

“What?”

“Seriously?” He asked, looking between Dean and myself. I looked at the older Winchester and seemed to have the same questions I did.

“Guys, I’m wearing it. Did you seriously not notice?”

I bit my lip.

“It looks exactly the same,” Dean spoke my own thoughts out loud.

“Well I mean technically it is. But it's not all scuffed up. Look you can clearly tell it's new,” he gestured with his hands that were still in his pockets, flapping the jacket around like he was an elongated flying squirrel.

“Not really.”

“Nope,” Dean popped the ‘p’ before he walked past both of us, “come on guys I'm starving, can we just go in?”

*

A simple lunch in the diner turned into beers in the bar which somehow turned into karaoke followed by shots. The place was bustling - all tables and booths occupied and a permanent flow of people ordering drinks. Most of the guys were of similar tastes, donning boots and leather jackets whilst the few women that were there pranced around in short-shorts and low cut tops. I for one felt a little out of place. The three of us were lucky to snag a booth, albeit close to the small stage situated up front, and I’d tucked myself into the corner, cradling my rum and coke. Dean had left his jacket beside me whilst he’d ventured off to challenge a group of guys to a ‘friendly’ game of pool, his laugh occasionally flowing over the chatter and music towards where Sam and I were sitting.

“How long do you think it’ll be until they realise they’re being conned?” I quizzed, taking a gulp from my glass and letting the bubbles fizz on my tongue before swallowing. Sam chuckled, taking a second before answering.

“Uhhh I don’t think these guys will find out until tomorrow morning.” We both laughed, knowing full well that Dean will spend all night gloating about how great he is, how we should bow in respect of the swindle master. I was lost in thought for a moment, wondering how much money he would actually walk away with when Sam’s voice pulled me back to reality.

“(Y/n), can I ask you something?”

I took another gulp of my drink, knowing full well what that puppy-dog look in Sam’s eyes meant, that furrow in his brow only accentuating it.

“Sure, go ahead.”

He took a breath.

“Are you ok? Like, really ok? Because if I’m honest, if I saw someone who I thought was dead - that I used to be in love with - stand before me after years of believing I’d never see them again; I don’t think I would be ok.”

I fiddled with the hem of Deans shirt sleeve for a second, my brain swarming with every thought I’ve been avoiding since the other night and keeping every little buzz under lock and key. I hated to admit it, but I was afraid to open Pandora’s box for the fear of ice cold confrontation. It wasn’t the wisest option, but putting the skeletons back in their closet and throwing out the key was what I genuinely thought was best. I let out an emotionally exhausted sigh before slumping back in my seat.

“I’m not ok. It still feels like some sort of fucked up fever dream, but… but thinking about it isn’t going to make me feel any better. Talking about someone who’s been dead to me for years isn’t going to take this messed up feeling away. In my mind, there’s nothing to get over where he’s concerned. Yeah, he was my teenage sweetheart, but I’m a grown woman now with a whole new brain and a whole new heart,” I could’ve kicked myself for letting my eyes flick over to Dean.

Sam sighed, resting his elbows on the table, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“If you’re sure, because you know I’m always here if you want to talk.”

“I know, thanks Sam,” I gave him a soft smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “Although, just one thing…”

“What’s that?” He sat up straighter.

“I don’t think it’s Daniel as a person that has me feeling like this - I grieved him and moved on from him years ago. I think… I think it’s the thought of that soul crushing sorrow coming back that scares me the most. The kind of sorrow that makes you forget what day it is; that stops you from eating and going outside and taking care of yourself. It makes you lose friends and interest in hobbies. It makes the whole world look grey and lifeless. You feel so unbearably numb that you aren’t even sure why you’re alive anymore. It makes you want to die.”

“(Y/n)…” Sam seemed at a loss for any other words as he held my hand softly across the table, running his thumb gently over my knuckles. I took a deep breath before carrying on.

“I felt like that when I lost Daniel, but when I lost Bobby, I… I…” I felt my voice crack slightly, “when I lost Bobby it was so much worse, I genuinely never thought I’d be normal ever again. Luckily for me, Charlie found me,” I grinned, remembering her determination to piece me back together. I looked up from where our hands joined, meeting Sam’s gaze.

“The only way I’d go through any of that again would be if I was to lose you guys. I know it’s not been long, but for once I’ve found something that makes me want to get out of bed in the mornings. That shit is hard to find.”

We both took a moment, feeling the weight of my words as we shared a gaze. I knew from the way his brows drew together and that far away look in his eyes that he felt everything I’d said. He’d experienced it first hand. And he knew that he didn’t have to say much, if anything, to convey that he understood. Slowly pulling my hand out from under his and placing my palm over his knuckles, I gave a gentle squeeze before standing, letting him go and grasping my glass. I threw the last mouthful back, the liquid vigorously fizzing down my throat before warming my chest. As I swallowed, I held my glass up and raised an eyebrow at Sam.

“Well shit, would you look at that - my glass is empty. Guess I’m heading to the bar. You need a top up?”

“Yeah, please. Remind me to get the next round,” he grinned as I slid out the booth and headed towards the bar. As I waded through the crowd I passed the pool table, glancing over at Dean who was deeply engrossed in taking a player's hard earned money out of his grasp. I watched the smug grin spread over his lips as he counted then pocketed the cash.

I looked up to see an opening at the bar so I squeezed in, perching myself on a stale beer-scented barstool whilst I waited for the barman to notice me. After a couple of minutes of being served he placed the drinks before me and I paid on one of Deans ‘special’ credit cards, scooping all three glasses into my grasp - with an insane amount of skill - and turned to leave. The moment my ass left the seat cushion however I found myself toe-to-toe with a very tall and very rugged stranger, the smell of cigarettes and old leather wafting around him.

“Not seen you around these parts before doll; I know I’d recognise such a pretty face,” he had a grim smirk on his face and his voice was like sandpaper - rough but certainly not sexy. I tried to take a step back but only ended up seated back on the barstool.

“Just passing through,” I did my best to flash a polite smile in the hopes he would sense I didn’t want to have this conversation. No such luck.

“A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be in a place like this all alone. Things might…happen.”

A shudder ascended my spine into my neck and I tried my best to subtly shake it out before I gave into my more defensive side.

“Who the fuck do you think I am with this many drinks? They’re clearly not all mine… ergo, I have company.”

His gross grin widened, the subject of my statement clearly not settling correctly in the empty space between his ears.

“Getting feisty… I like it. Can’t get much better than a little thing with a mouth.”

I shuddered again.

“What part of ‘I have company’ do you not fucking understand? And even if I was alone, I definitely wouldn’t be going anywhere with you.”

His grimy smirk faltered slightly, finally absorbing some of my words that seemed to be floating in the air around his thick skull.

“Aw don’t be like that.”

“Oh I’m gonna ‘be like that’ until you leave me the fuck alone.”

He took a lumbering step forwards, pushing me further onto the barstool.

“See now there’s a point when a mouth on a pretty thing becomes down right obnoxious, and you’re nearing that point sweetheart.”

“Don’t you fucking ‘sweetheart’ me you dick,” I was mentally preparing to buy another round of drinks as the thought of throwing these three at this asshole was becoming sweeter by the second, and people were starting to watch on but there wasn’t a single white knight in sight.

“Well now you’ve just crossed that line,” the second I saw him start to raise his arms my instincts kicked in and I gave into my previous thought and doused him in liquor, the amber liquid running down his face and neck and soaking into his clothes. He looked down at himself in disbelief before lifting his head back up, this time baring his teeth and raising his hand as if to slap me. I reflexively raised my arms and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for impact.

“You stupid bitch.”

“If you touch a hair on her goddamn head ‘imma put you six feet under.”

My eyes shot open and I lowered my hands to see a seething Dean Winchester, a single strong hand wrapped around my harasser's wrist.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The faintest smirk pulled at the corner of Deans mouth before disappearing as quickly as it appeared, leaving nothing but quiet rage burning across his features.

“I’m about to be your biggest fucking problem.”

Before the asshole could even react Deans hand went from twelve O’clock to six O’clock in half a second with a sickening snap, breaking the jerks elbow with deadly skill. Practised skill. Whilst my harasser cried out and cradled his limp arm, Dean let go of him before a few of the onlookers gave Dean a nod of approval before escorting the creep out. Once he knew he was out of the building, Dean turned to me, softly grasping my chin between his thumb and index finger.

“Are you ok? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He tilted my face left and right, scrutinising over my unharmed skin. When he was sure that there wasn’t a scratch on me he let go, relief flooding his gaze as he sighed.

“Dean I’m fine, I promise,” I reached up, fingers hesitantly grazing his stubbled cheek before I thought better of it and dropped my hand to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I swear to God (Y/n), if he’d laid a finger on you he’d get a lot more than a busted elbow,” his hand came to rest on my bicep, his long fingers gently wrapping around my arm in subconscious comfort, almost pulling me towards him. My own hand seemed to slide down from his shoulder to rest softly on his chest, my fingertips feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath.

“I know,” I reassured, giving him a little smile to which he returned. I felt my soft smile turn mischievous as thoughts started conjuring in my mind.

“Come on, Sam is waiting for another drink, let's order and get back to the table.”

The bartender had seen Dean step in to help me, so luckily for us this round was on the house. As we slid into the booth opposite Sam I slid his drink over to him.

“What happened back there?” He asked, mildly concerned.

“Just some asshole thinking I was gonna leave this place with him,” I sighed, sitting down, Dean taking his seat beside me. Sam's eyes flicked between the two of us.

“I'm sure I saw him leave with his arm all out of shape, was that-”

“Yeah well, shrimp-dick had it coming,” Dean was doing his best to act nonchalant, however the moment our eyes met over the top of our drinks we couldn't stop the giggles from tumbling out.

“Guys, Dean, you can't go around breaking elbows-”

“Relax Sammy. No one's gonna say anything, they all saw him acting like a creep. Just didn't have the balls to step in. Anyway,” a darker look clouded his eyes as his gaze bore into his younger brother, “he was harassing our girl, Sam. Ain't no way in Hell I was gonna let that slide.”

There was a moment of thick silence before Sam nodded, finally agreeing with Deans actions, knowing that if it had come down to it, he might've done the same. I raised my glass to my lips, taking a long sip before placing it back on the table, looking between the boys as they continued to have some sort of silent conversation that I wasn't a part of. The mischievous thoughts from earlier kept bubbling in my mind, and it didn't take any self-convincing for me to act on them. I shuffled slightly closer to Dean, not enough to draw attention to myself but enough to be in touching distance. I glanced up at him, making sure he was totally unaware and focused on his drink before I reached out slowly, letting my soft fingertips glide over the rough denim of his jeans. I glanced up at him when I heard him inhale his drink, spluttering slightly as I squeezed the inside of his thigh. I traced the length of his inseam, watching his grip on his glass tighten, the tanned skin over his knuckles paling.

“You ok there?” I asked, feigning concern with a quirk of a brow.

“Oh I'm just peachy sweetheart,” his voice came out low, lower than I think he was expecting it to as his eyes nervously darted to Sam who was too busy opening his laptop to notice. Dean leant back on the bench, the worn leather creaking under his weight. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, pausing for a moment before lifting his arm closest to me, as though inviting me to sit closer. Eager to oblige I scooted towards him, nibbling my bottom lip when I felt his large hand rest softly on my back, subconsciously pulling me in. I crossed one leg over the other, turning into him slightly, tilting my head to get a better look at his face.

“I think I left something in the car, would you mind coming with me whilst I grab it?”

He looked a little puzzled for a moment before shotting the last of his whiskey and nodding his head.

“Sure thing,” he turned to his brother, “hey Sammy, we’ll be back in a few.”

Sam grunted a reply, too lost in the article he was reading to pay much attention to us. Dean slid out of the booth and held his hand out to me, which I grasped. His long rough fingers enveloped my hand as he pulled me to my feet. Leaving his jacket behind, we left the bar and made our way to the impala.

The night air had turned chilly, biting at my flushed cheeks as we paced across the lot, taking all of about thirty seconds to reach the impala. Dean was a few steps ahead of me, having unlocked the rear passenger door by the time I'd arrived.

“There you are, grab what you ne- whoa!”

He was caught off guard when I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him down into the car, his broad form filling the space in the back with ease. I climbed in after him, closing the door and crawling along the back bench towards him. It took a moment, but Dean eventually caught on.

“Oh, I’m liking where this is going.”

I chewed at my bottom lip, watching him settle beneath me as he propped up slightly on his elbows, the fabric of his T-shirt stretching thin over his muscular chest.

“I wanted to thank you for being my hero. That’s the second time you’ve rescued me - I wanted to thank you properly. You know, to really show my appreciation.”

It was Deans turn to pull his bottom lip between his teeth, the corners of his plush lips turning up.

“You know, I’m starting to think you might be trouble,” his voice was getting lower with every word, each syllable rumbling in his chest and vibrating into my fingertips.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, feeling some truth to them as I scooted down the bench to sit between his legs before slipping into the large footwell. I patted the seat in front of me, and it didn’t even take a second for Dean to slide himself into it, sitting up straight. As I sat between his knees and looked up at him, I couldn’t help but marvel at the sight; the way the streetlights painted his face in warm amber, softening his battle-hardened features and reflecting in his eyes like dancing embers from a stoked fire. The shadows didn’t seem contradictory - the darkness we were sitting in was far from cold. Dean Winchester was not an artistic man by any means, but he himself was certainly a masterpiece.

I reached up and unbuckled his belt along with the button on his jeans, carefully dragging the zipper down after and tugging the thick fabric along with his boxers off his hips; just enough to dip my hand in and pull out his cock, already hot and heavy in my palm. He made an almost strained noise on contact and my stomach fluttered at the thought of him being so sensitive. So sensitive at my mercy. I adjusted my grip on him before going up and down, once… twice… three times… over and over at a sinfully slow pace. His hands gripped his thighs like they had nowhere else to go, and when I looked up he was watching every move I was making with knotted brows and parted lips. His eyes only found mine when I straightened my back and leant forwards, gliding my tongue up the thick length of him but avoiding the tip. Mimicking my hand, I licked up and down again and again, ever so slowly gaining speed before I finally dragged my tongue over his tip and plunged his whole cock down my throat.

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasped out, his large palms flying to my hair - long fingers knotting with the soft strands. I could tell he wanted nothing more than to shove my head down as far as it would go, but his self restraint shone through. I started to move, slowly at first, head bobbing without missing a beat. The feeling of his cock pressing against the back of my throat over and over was fine at first, but the longer I sucked him off the urge to gag grew. The size of Deans cock was not something to be taken lightly, and after a couple of minutes the impending gag hit and I pulled him out of my mouth.

“Shit, (Y/n)… How are you so good at this?” He hissed out in a breath I’m sure he’d been holding since I'd started. I assumed the question was rhetorical as I gave him a few pumps, swallowing the excess spit and precum on my tongue before leaning back in. One by one I placed hot, wet kisses up his length, placing the final one on his tip before I pulled it back into my mouth. With the new found sensitivity of my gag reflex ever-present, I avoided taking him too far down my throat, this time using one hand to reach where my mouth couldn't at his base. Adding a little twist, I felt his grip tighten once again in my hair, his long fingers absently scooping loose strands away from my face. The combination of feeling him lose his mind beneath me and the tenderness of his touch sent a flutter to my heart which quickly travelled south at the sound of his euphoric groan, his head lolling back and eyes closing. As I pressed my tongue to the large vein scaling his length I could feel his rapid pulse, my own heart rate almost as fast as his. As I continued to bob my head, I could feel him gather all my hair in one hand, his other softy tracing down over my temple, my cheek and my lips before stopping at my chin, a single swipe from his thumb removing most if the spit and precum that was threatening to stream down my neck. I would consider my next move a grave mistake - looking up through my damp lashes to meet Deans white-hot gaze fixated and fascinated with every little motion I made. The blissed-out look in his eyes could have turned a weaker woman into a puddle right then and there, and I surprised myself with my own resilience. He continued to hold me with one hand in my hair and a soft grip on my chin, my own free hand moving to grip him near the inside of his thigh. Another soft moan slipped from his lips as I started to speed up, not caring for the ache in my jaw or mess he was now too preoccupied to swipe away. I was surprised when no words left Deans lips, his usual blasphemous language replaced with velvety moans of pleasure. I could tell he was nearing his peak when his cock twitched between my lips, again and again before before he finally groaned out a strained:

“Fuck, oh shit.”

His grip tightened, like he was trying to pull me off him, however when that telltale throb made his cock graze the back of my throat I removed my hand from his base and enveloped him in his entirety, a final, breathy gasp and groan tumbling from Deans lips before the sensation of warm, viscous liquid spilled across the back of my tongue. It took a moment for the ropes to stop coming, and when they did I pulled him from my mouth slowly, looking up at his breathless form. Not taking my eyes from his, I parted my lips slightly to show his cum, glazing my tongue, before closing my mouth and swallowing the thick liquid down. He let out another groan, his grip finally releasing my hair as he ran his hands over his face, taking a moment for his eyes to find mine again.

“Holy shit, sweetheart… I feel like I just died and went to heaven.”

I couldn't stop the stupid giggle spilling from my lips as I wiped the spit from my lips and chin with the bottom of Deans shirt that I was wearing.

“For a moment there I thought you had too.”

He grinned down at me, perhaps a little bashful as he tucked himself back into his pants and refastened his belt. As he finished up, a few moments of silence hung over us as I still remained nestled between his strong thighs. His eyes met mine and they seemed to hold a thousand words that he wanted to say, and when nothing came from his lips he simply held out his hand to pull me into his lap. Just as my fingers grazed his, however, there was a loud rap at the window which spooked both of us out of our skin.

“Motherfucker,” Dean muttered before rolling down the window, and a small wave of guilt and embarrassment washed over me when I heard Sam's disbelieving yet humoured voice coming from outside.

“Guys are you fucking serious?!”

——————————————————————

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[leonawriter]

To add to "Hakuba wasn't the one throwing the most shade at Hattori," I'm heading into the case itself, since I didn't last time.

Let's start with the fact that Hattori found blood on the doorknob and instantly tried to knock the door down. Hakuba, Junya, and Natsuki all look shocked, Natsuki even saying "Hey, wait a-"

Shinichi's the only one who isn't shown protesting, but he's also not shown actively helping to break down the door. He's right there, yes, but going just by the manga alone, we don't see him in action.

Later on, we get this-

Once Hakuba's said about how the "producer" was still alive, Hattori unties him.

Closely followed by...

First Junya, then Hakuba, saying that he's done things wrong. That he's incompetent.

In fact, Junya says "Even if [Hattori] is a very incompetent detective" while Hakuba says "I'll admit that your actions were unacceptable."

Of the two statements, Junya's is the more offensive to me - there's a difference between "unacceptable actions" and calling someone "incompetent." For instance, Detective Yamamura of the Gunma police is "incompetent" because he barely meets the base criteria to be a police officer, let alone someone in charge of a crime scene. Hattori isn't on that level. His actions were, however, unacceptable.

Moving on, and we see Hakuba point out, in detail, why they should have taken their time.

It's Junya, again, who goes on the offensive, assuming that Hattori was "[eager] to reach the crime scene before anyone else" and "not suited for being a detective." Hakuba says neither of these things. He's judgemental, yes, but he doesn't make things personal.

Funnily enough, Shinichi has a damn good point here. It ISN'T that Hattori is unsuited to being a detective! He is, however, hot-blooded, which does affect how he goes about things.

That isn't a bad thing, all of the time, and if it was, then Shinichi would have been joining the others in criticising Hattori. Thing is, Shinichi knows Hattori, and neither overly defends him (they're kinda right, after all) nor attacks him further (he knows why Hattori is how he is).

Later-

By this point, Hakuba has already seen Hattori acting "rashly" and "not thinking things through" so he feels he has a good reason to make remarks like these.

After that, however, when they do find the person they're after, he's visible from the outside, leaning against the window, bleeding.

This time, it's Hakuba who suggests going back inside and busting the door open, but before he can, Hattori is jumping up to bust through the window.

We're shown him breaking the glass, then unlocking the bolt on the window, in order to get in - unlike the first time, where it's just "bust open, get in."

In other words, we're shown his process.

What's important, to me at least?

Once the investigation gets underway, and now that Junya (rest in fucking pieces, dipshit) is out of the way, Hattori and Hakuba are... able to talk to each other with far more civility.

Sure, there's some checking of "you didn't mess something up again, did you?" but that's a valid question that one of them would ask during any other investigation as well, at some point or other.

That said...

It's only after they've done their preliminary investigation and the actual suspects are mostly out of the way that Hakuba suggests that Hattori be kept away from the crime scenes, since when he's been involved, the crime scene has been messed up, damaged, and... he's basically made a mess of it.

Thing is, this is where it's viable for them to have come to loggerheads with each other!

Hakuba is cool-headed and logical, while Hattori is hot-blooded and emotional.

I've even said before about how they're written as narrative foils to one another, being the rivals and closest male friends of their respective protagonists!

That said... for all that they butt heads here, they're back to collaborating not long after.

And when one of them brings up a point, the other listens. Hakuba doesn't discredit what Hattori's saying just because he's hot-blooded, and Hattori doesn't ignore what Hakuba's saying just because he doesn't like the guy/has bias against him.

On to the finale, and each of our detective protagonists has a different conclusion.

Hattori explains his idea of who the culprit is, only to be cut off by Hakuba, who comes in with his own, in a very disparaging way - "How many more times must you disappoint me," he says, only to be proven wrong and realise that he'd been letting his own bias (that a thief must be the culprit) get in the way of his deductions. Hattori continues with his explanation, which Shinichi tries to say "no, you're wrong!" about... only to prove that he knew exactly what he was doing and catch the real killer trying to hide evidence.

Effectively, this all proves that Hattori is just as good of a detective as any of the rest of them, especially so given the culprit's words at the end:

In other words: those things were done on purpose, knowing what kind of person Hattori is, and she respects him for being the kind of person who hopes that the victim is alive until proven dead. Who hopes for life, more than just another mystery to solve.

In this point here, as well as in assuming that the culprit had to be the same person as the thief, Hakuba is wrong, because he assumed that acting in a "hot-blooded" way was wrong since doing so would disrupt the crime scene.

What he should have been worrying about - and I wonder if this was a minor lesson for him - was "is the person inside still hanging onto life, and if they are, will taking the long route around take too long, and cause them to die?"

So, in these later parts, we do see that:

1 - It isn't even Hakuba, even after Hattori has said things that would legitimately upset him, who throws the first stone in antagonising him.

2 - It's only after seeing behaviour that could be seen as "rash" that Hattori hadn't thought through (unfitting of a detective) that he starts to bite back.

3 - They still work together with respect whenever it's about the actual investigation, and at no point do they get in each other's way, and-

4 - When Hakuba makes a mistake about his deductions, as well as when admitting no one knows where he is, for one thing he accepts his mistakes with grace, and for another thing Hattori doesn't gloat about it.

I wouldn't say that things are mended between them - first impressions count for a lot, and they didn't have a good one no matter how you look at it - but I'd hardly say that they have a non-functioning working relationship, or that they'd constantly be at each other's throats.

[fungifanart]

Romantically Bankrupt

Characters: Male reader, Yuu!reader, Ruggie Bucchi

CW: Blood/fatal injury, death, heavy angst/whump, hurt/no comfort, angst with a sad ending

Word count: 2.8k

Notes: Happy Pride Month, my fellow queers! Sorry it took me so long to get this done, but I promise it's worth the wait! Also, props to you if you get the reference to a certain other Ruggie fic of mine! ( @lemonchuu / @leichor pspspspspsps) ( And @nemisisnemi pull up a chair)

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Ruggie genuinely can't remember a time when he's felt happier than he does now.

Living comfortably with a stable, high-paying job at the Sunset Savanna palace, thanks to Leona.

Being able to move his grandma into a nicer, safer part of the kingdom and work with government officials to slowly but surely close the gap between the rich and the poor.

And last, but not least: Doing this and so much more with his beloved husband by his side. The man who came to this world with nothing, but still rose from the title of Janitor to the Prefect of Ramshackle dorm and then eventually to the Headmaster of NRC itself.

Y/n.

His handsome, loving Y/n.

The man whom he's sworn his heart and soul to for the rest of their lives.

The man for whom he's used all of his built-up PTO to spend a whole week with starting today, their five year anniversary.

Ruggie flops down into a chair at the kitchen table after finally finishing making his and Y/n's anniversary dinner and waits patiently for his love's return.

Fifteen minutes later, Ruggie's ears perk up at the sound of footsteps approaching and then the front door to his and Y/n's shared living space opening.

"Ruggie, I'm home! Sorry I'm late, I had a phone call that--" Y/n's sentence ends abruptly as Ruggie runs up and surprises him with a tight hug while he's still in the doorway.

"Shihihi! Welcome home!" Ruggie exclaims while nuzzling his face into his husband's neck, "I'll forgive you for being late just this once, seeing as how it's our anniversary! Not to mention how I'd hate for the special dinner I made to go to waste!" He finishes lightheartedly while motioning towards the kitchen.

"Like I'd let that happen! But first, I got something for-" Y/n moves his hand from behind his back only to just realize that it's empty and looks back at Ruggie to see him happily sniffing the bouquet of rhododendrons, begonias and chrysanthemums he'd bought for him.

"Shihihi! You know old habits die hard!" Ruggie quips before placing a tender kiss on his husband's lips, "I love them, dear. Thank you so much."

This tender moment continues in the kitchen where the two men eat their dinner while discussing all manner of things, from how their days were to how their friends are keeping up to how Grim will do as Acting Headmaster while Y/n is away, until the food is finished and they fall into a comfortable silence. A silence which Ruggie breaks upon seeing Y/n begin to fidget nervously.

"Is something wrong, love?" Ruggie asks while placing his hand on the other man's in comfort.

"N-no! It's just that I got some amazing news earlier and it's getting harder and harder to contain myself!" He says with excitement rising up in his voice.

"Well, don't keep me waiting, then! Lay it on me!" Ruggie urges, his curiosity at it's peak.

"Ok ok! So do you remember that phone call I mentioned that made me late?" The other man begins before taking both of Ruggie's hands in his own with a big smile, "It was from the adoption agency! The papers were accepted!! We can adopt a child!!!"

All time seems to stop in the moment it takes Ruggie to process this information before resuming as his face breaks into the biggest smile he's worn all day and he reaches across the table to wrap his husband in a tight hug.

The two remain like this for several minutes, hugging and crying from happiness until they've calmed down enough to separate and look at each other with eyes full of love and adoration.

"I'm so happy that I get to adopt a child with you, Y/n!" Ruggie says elatedly.

"Me too, Ruggie!" The other man responds, "Now, all that's left to do is--"

"W......... ...p..."

Ruggie blinks for a second, unsure of what he'd just heard, "Uh, what was that last part, Y/n?"

"Huh? Well, I was just saying how we need to--"

"W...KE U..."

'There it is again. It sounds far away, but close at the same time...and what is it trying to tell me?' Ruggie thinks as he attempts to clear out his ears with his finger to hear better, "Sorry, my ears are acting weird suddenly, could you say that again?"

The confusion on Y/n's face is quickly accompanied by concern as he reaches forward to check Ruggie for a fever, "Dear, are you feeling alright? Maybe you should--"

"PLEASE, RUGGIE!!! WAKE UP!!!"

The hyena's surroundings begin to melt away into darkness as he hears the voice loud and clear, that of the real Y/n begging him to wake up from this apparent dream, the last thing he sees before doing so being dream Y/n's concerned face dissolving into the darkness.

Ruggie floats in the void of unconsciousness briefly before he feels a pair of hands shaking his shoulders frantically and his eyes flutter open to see the real Y/n's face looking back at him, contorted in desperation that turns into immense relief upon his awakening.

"Ruggie! Oh my god... oh my god. Thank goodness, you're okay!" The Prefect says while pulling the hyena into a tight hug with shaking hands.

"Y-yeah...sorry for worrying you! I'm okay now, though!" Ruggie says while shaking off the drowsiness caused by Malleus's spell and returning his boyfriend's hug.

Ruggie would've preferred that this nice moment go on for a bit longer, but it's instead ruined by the sound of a spell being launched at the two of them and the Prefect instinctively rolling them out of the way.

"Crap, I was so relieved that I almost forgot." The other man says while helping Ruggie stand up and staying close to him protectively, "We managed to severely weaken Malleus in the dream world, but he's not down just yet. Will you help us finish him off?"

And here Ruggie was just getting used to being awake again and suddenly he needs to fight. Typical.

"Shihihi, anything for you, Y/n!" Ruggie says while shaking off the last of the drowsiness, "And besides, I need to pay that guy back for teasing me with something that hasn't happened yet!"

And so, the fight continues as Ruggie and the others lob spell after spell at the weakened fae prince until Malleus's stamina is seeming to reach its limits, which his dormmates and the Prefect use as an opportunity to try to reason with him again.

"MALLEUS-SAMA, PLEASE YOU MUST UNDERSTAND--"

"Malleus, it hurts me too, but this isn't the way to--"

"Malleus, just give it up! This can't go on forever--"

"Lostie, please! This isn't who you are--"

"SILENCE!!!" Malleus yells in one last fit of rage that sends a barrage of thick and sharp thorn vines out in all directions, one of which speeds towards Ruggie faster than he can dodge.

Ruggie closes his eyes and braces for the feeling of the vine tearing into his flesh, when suddenly--

"RUGGIE!!!"

He instead feels a hand pushing him away, hears the Prefect’s voice calling his name in sheer desperation and opens his eyes just in time to see the thorn vine drive itself directly through the other man's stomach as he lets out a blood-curdling scream in pain.

Ruggie's vision turns red at this and the next moments go by in a blur until he comes out of it to the sight of an unconscious and now normal Malleus at his feet.

He has no time to wonder how that happened as he whips his head around to find where his boyfriend is and sees him collapsed on his back in a growing pool of blood with Grim crying his name next to him.

"Y/N!!! No no no no no no--" Ruggie says as he sprints over and slides on his knees to a halt next to him and holds him in his arms, uncaring to how much blood would get on him, "Y/N! Hey!! Talk to me!!! Grim! Go find Professor Crewel or Riddle or someone who can help!"

The direbeast sprints away as the Prefect stirs in Ruggie's arms.

"...*cough* R-Ruggie? You're alright?" He looks at Ruggie with barely focused eyes and coughs up blood on top of the blood already gushing from the gaping hole in his stomach.

"Forget about me! Why'd you do that?!" He practically screams as he shoves his scarf into the wound in a desperate, but vain attempt to stop the bleeding, all survival knowledge having left his brain due to panic.

"S-sorry...*cough* when I saw the vine coming at you, my body moved on its own. I just couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt..." Y/n says with a small, pathetic smile.

"I-- That's-- Y-you shouldn't-- I-I'm not--" Ruggie tries to argue, to say ANYTHING, but, looking at the ever growing pool of blood around them and hearing the sound of the Prefect’s breathing becoming more labored, all words die in his throat and all he can do is look into his love's eyes while tears pool around his own.

Just as the tears begin to fall, the Prefect reaches up his hand to caress the hyena's cheek, which he takes in his own trembling grasp.

He's scared. So scared.

Ruggie's finally found something, someONE, that his childhood self could only dream of finding and now here he is, slowly but surely slipping away.

His spiraling is interrupted by the Prefect’s weakening voice, "R-Ruggie, there's actually-*cough* s-something I need to tell you in case I-*cough* don't make it..." He says as his words grow more forced.

Ruggie's eyes widen, "H-hey! Don't talk like that! Grim's gonna get Professor Crewel here and you'll be patched up in no--"

"Ruggie...please just listen..." The Prefect says in a weak tone that overpowers the rest of Ruggie's sentence, "If I don't make it, I want you-*cough* to go to my room-*huff* at Ramshackle. T-there's *huff* s-something in the very back of the drawer in my desk that I-*cough* want you to have, ok...?"

Ruggie nods nervously as his grip on his boyfriend's hand tightens, "S-sure, but that's only if you don't make it! Which you will! I mean it!" He says, unsure whether he's trying to convince the Prefect or himself.

"Y-yeah...of course..." The other man responds while turning his gaze straight upwards, "Hey...would you mind-*cough* telling me what you dreamt about...?"

Ruggie blushes in embarrassment thinking about it, "Uuhh...w-well...you and me, we were...uh...living together. I was working at the palace and you were the Headmaster here and...we were...really happy. I'd really like it if that could be our reality someday."

The Prefect continues to stare upwards as his eyes glisten with tears, "That-*cough* sounds wonderful...*huff*...I'd like that too." He rasps as Ruggie can see the tears threatening to spill over, "H-hey, Ruggie?"

"Yeah...?" The hyena responds.

"You k-know I love you, r-right?" He says with a weak, but geniune smile causing Ruggie's heart to skip a beat.

"O-of course! I love you too!" Ruggie responds plainly with no hint of sarcasm or false bravado, just the honest truth.

However, this one statement is what makes the Prefect's tears finally spill over, "Th-that-*sniff*-makes me-*cough* so happy to hear. I love you, Ruggie." The next part, he says in a barely audible whisper, "I wish I could’ve...*huff*...shown you how much..."

Time slows down to a crawl in this moment as Ruggie watches the love of his life close his eyes and feels his hand go limp in his grasp, seemingly at peace.

But not Ruggie.

Ruggie is anything but at peace.

All sound is cut off in this moment to the point that he can't even hear his own voice as he desperately calls out Y/n's name and shakes his shoulders, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

He only stops upon being pushed away by someone he vaguely recognizes who tells him something he can't hear before putting their ear to the Prefect’s chest and trying all manner of tactics to resuscitate him.

But it's too late.

Ruggie had already guessed this, but the confirmation saps the color from the world around him as the person and a small animal still work feverishly for several minutes.

But it doesn't work.

The end of those several minutes of fruitless work is marked by the person placing their fur coat on top of the Prefect's body.

Ruggie goes fully numb at this, his brain barely registering anything about the world around him and even his own actions as he only realizes he's started walking away upon seeing the faces of people he's pretty sure he knows as they either are only just waking up or nursing their own injuries.

How lucky they are to walk away with their lives, unlike a certain someone. Unlike the one person who mattered.

Ignoring the questions of his peers, Ruggie exits Diasomnia and continues walking.

To where? He doesn't know or care anymore. It's not like Y/n will be there to greet him after all.

The minutes pass by in a blur as Ruggie walks until he finds himself at the gates to Ramshackle, 'Oh yeah, that thing Y/n wanted me to have.' He thinks numbly to himself before entering his boyfriend's dorm.

Walking into the Lounge, the hyena's mind clears enough to see the faces of the dorm's three ghostly residents in front of him who look ready to fire a barrage of questions, but settle on one upon seeing his expression.

"He didn't make it, did he?" The middle ghost asks, all three of their expressions turning crestfallen as Ruggie nods silently, "That's...unfortunate. He probably already told you about his gift for you, so go on up to his room, lad. We won't keep you."

'Like I needed your permission.' Ruggie thinks bitterly to himself.

Upon reaching the room he's been to countless times at this point, Ruggie hesitates, but pushes forward and opens the door, already regretting it as he's bombarded with Y/n's scent and every memory he's made with him rushes through his head relentlessly.

Fighting back the tears and forcing each foot in front of the other, Ruggie eventually makes it to Y/n's desk and opens the drawer, finding it empty save for a single envelope with his name on it leaning against the very back.

Snatching up the envelope, Ruggie opens it and immediately recognizes his boyfriend's handwriting on the paper contained inside.

"Dear Ruggie,

If you're reading this, then it means I'm no longer alive. With how dangerous things have become, I've suspected my death as a possibility for quite some time now, so I wanted to be prepared for this outcome.

As I'm writing, you're currently out working one of your jobs and I still find myself marveling at how hardworking you are. It's one of the qualities that I love and respect the most about you. Just before you left, you mentioned how you'll need to hit the grind harder than ever to provide for your 'darling future husband.' which you probably meant as a joke, but it still made my heart skip a beat to imagine that kind of future for us.

But...regarding the future, I really need to apologize. It seems like I won't be able to fulfill the promise we made before we officially started dating.

I'm sorry. I really and truly am. I don't know how I died, but I can one hundred percent assure you that it was never my intention to leave you like this, because the time we've spent together, however brief, was easily the happiest I've ever been and I sincerely hope that you can say the same.

You may have already noticed a certain something I've left behind this letter, which I had hoped to give to you in person later down the line, but seeing as how that's no longer possible...

It's probably cruel to ask this of you now, but:

Ruggie Bucchi, I love you with all of my heart,

Will you marry me?

Forever yours,

Y/n"

Shoving his hand back into the drawer, Ruggie pulls out one more thing like the letter said, a very small box that he opens to reveal a circle of metal adorned by an even smaller glittering jewel on the top.

A ring.

An engagement ring.

The Prefect was going to stay and he was going to propose to him.

With this revelation, Ruggie's legs finally give out and he drops to his knees, tears falling freely down his face as he tightly clutches the letter and ring box to his chest.

"Yes, Y/n...I will marry you…”

[rodolfoparras]

So in SSKTJL, the suicide squad gets infected with Fear Gas because of Batman

For context, Fear Gas is a gas created by Scarecrow or Johnathan Crane, and when inhaled, you live through your worst fears until worn off.

And Digger's worst fear is everyone leaving him behind, being unwanted and forgotten. In the scene, George talks to himself, saying they've probably already left him. Calling himself a loser and and a coward and shit. He sees "NOT WANTED" posters of himself hung up around

(I can't do this anymore, bro)

What if Reader's worst fear was watching all of his friends/teammates die and losing them all🥰

Running around trying to listen to Harley's advice (because she knows Scarecrow and the toxin) but he just keeps hearing his friends scream for help and their bodies everywhere but he's literally unable to help them, because they're not fucking real but it's scary asf

And once it's all over, Reader is all over Digger the rest of the night. They're the closest, so it's already not that weird, but he's literally not giving Digger a MOMENT of peace. a hand on that man the entire time, following him everywhere, fucking sleeps on top of him to try and keep him safe

Mumbles to him all night about being scared of losing him and how much he cares about him and Digger's just "🧍‍♂️wut?" Because he genuinely believes that despite working with the team, he's very easily disposable and they could all replace him but don't because of Waller

Reader ramping up his affection for Digger after that because he's not gonna let him think that shit??

Idk where I'm going with this but I love him so much. Just wanna play with his hair and kiss his face 😞

-🐧

Cw: tooth rotting fluff, x male reader

Okay but thinking about you being unable to calm down even though the gas has long stopped having effect, even though you’re back in your current reality with all your friends where they’re all very much alive and doing well but no matter what they say or do you just can’t calm down

It’s like you’re still stuck in that place, watching all your friends die in front of you without being able to do anything, and Digger being Digger starts joking around, telling the rest of the team how they should just knock you out to make sure you get to sleep through the night.

But his words turn into squeaks as you pull him into a bruising grip, his head shoved into your chest, and your arms locked in an iron grip around his waist.

Unintelligible sounds escape his lips as he tries to push you away from him but you don’t budge an inch, if anything you hold him tighter, nuzzling your face into his honey blonde locks and inhaling his scent, and for once you actually seem to relax.

“Uh hello big guy? cant breathe here,” the sound of Digger’s strained voice sends the whole squad into fits of laughter, with them even making comments about how you’re his responsibility for the night before splitting up to get some rest.

“Alright alright that’s enough” digger says as he finally breaks out of your embrace “jeez I know I’m a lovable guy but even that was a bit too much eh?” Digger says, clearly being sarcastic as he proceeds to prepare his make shift bed.

He doesn’t even get to lay down properly before you’re on top of him, your body weight pinning him in place an arm once again locked around his waist.

“God dammit,” Digger grunts out as his back meets the harsh impact of the ground. “What’s with you tonight eh? Gas scared you that bad? What did you even see?”

And maybe it’s the hint of concern in his voice or it’s the exhaustion from todays events, but you decide to tell you him what you saw earlier today.

Surprisingly enough, Digger listens intently to every word you have to say, at some point you think he’s fallen asleep or spaced out because it’s so unusual for him to not interrupt but when you look up, you see the very much focused look on his face as he continues to listen to you.

Once you’re done speaking you peer up at him - only to be met with the sight of his furrowed brows as he worries his bottom lip.

This time it’s your turn to ask what’s on his mind, digger doesn’t waste a second before he starts to explain, telling you how he can understand why you’d be worried about losing king shark- he was a great asset to the team - or Harley - she was a smart cookie or dead shot - look at his name! who wouldn’t want a guy like that on his team ? but he can’t understand why you’d be worried about losing him.

He doesn’t say it in a self deprecating way, but rather as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, as if he’s speaking of the way the sun is bound to rise tomorrow and maybe that hurts more than if he were to say it in a self deprecating tone.

You’re swift to rise up, knocking the air out of his lungs as you go on a tangent about how of course he’s an important part of the team, promptly mentioning the many times he’s saved your ass or saved another member of the team, the many times he’d been the reason as to why they succeeded in whatever mission you were doing.

By the time you’re done you’re all out of breath, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace hands still hanging in the air and staring wide eyed at the Aussie man.

“Alright alright big guy I get it,” he says, now sporting a blush on his face and avoiding your gaze while bashfully rubbing at the back of his neck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a crush on the ol’ captain” Digger say with somewhat of a forced chuckle , and peers up at you beneath soft blonde lashes.

“Maybe I do,” you shrug.

“Wha-“

“Sleep digger, we have a long day tomorrow no?” You say, suddenly laying down again and pulling him into your arms before he can protest. You can hear him cursing under his breath but he doesn’t do anything to try and get out of your embrace. “Goodnight captain” you say with a smile on your face.

“Goodnight” he grumbles back as he tightens his hold on your waist.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hello, it me :D

Idk how you want to structure this or how it's gonna sound when I try to type out what's in my brain rn, I do know that I want this to be a full hc tho

Ok. So. I've seen some art here & there of some of the M6 with their own children; mostly just babies but there are a couple older kids in the mix as well. This is where things in my head get weird so bear with me:

I'm thinking this ask could go three ways (I also don't know if Nadia & Portia will be able to fit in to this ask but it is what it is), and you can do just one of the options or all of them, I'll let you choose:

A. M6 reacting to MC telling them they're pregnant

B. M6 & MC mid-pregnancy preparing for the baby

Or C. M6 getting to hold their kid for the first time

Hopefully this makes sense I think it provides an opportunity for incredible wholesomeness whatever you decide :)

The Arcana HCs: M6 during MC's pregnancy

~ ohoho, now this, this is the kind of prompt that makes my heart sing! @themushroomgoesyeet I hope you're ready because I'm doing all three of those suggestions in here, just you wait >:3 - brainrot ~

Other baby-related hcs: M6 when someone hands them a baby

The M6 when the child they have with you is an exact carbon copy of them

-- for the purpose of these headcanons and because I write for a gender-neutral reader, MC is pregnant with a baby that is equal parts their and their LI's DNA. This could have happened the traditional way (depending on how you envision your MC or if you headcanon your LI as trans), or simply by magical means. For my fellow trans men, seahorse dads are still dads! And to my fellow AO3 readers, mpreg is possible. Always. O.O --

Julian

For the first time in his life, he was well and truly speechless

And delighted. In fact, his speechlessness was because of the unforeseen tidal wave of joy that crashed over him as soon as you told him and it knocked all the air out of his lungs

Pulling you into an embrace as soon as he can move again and trembling with excitement: "Really? You're going to have my baby? We're going to be parents? I'm going to be a father? Haha!"

If he was bad about hovering before he's terrible about it now

Detailed research on all potential issues (which leads to him having crippling spirals over all the ways this could go wrong)

Auntie Pasha and Great-Grandma Mazelinka are here for it and so overwhelmingly supportive. It's hard to resist Julian's regular suggestions of bed rest because they make it so feasible

Mazelinka's soup was heavenly for your morning sickness

Julian collected at least three different remedies for every single pregnancy symptom you had and filled multiple notebooks with doctor's observations. Even down to tracking your sleep cycle

He also called in several favors to make sure that at least two other doctors would be available leading up to your due date - one for you and one for the baby. (he still insisted on being the main one)

He managed the birth impressively well - years of medical expertise kicked in and he went full "doctor" mode, keeping a cool head and open communication and anticipating every need

Until he held his child for the first time and had to sit down because his knees gave out. He has a whole new reason to live well

Asra

You know that panicked blushy face they make? Yeah, that was it

You briefly mistook it for horror - you know he likes surprises, but this is something else - but it was really his own panic at suddenly being plunged into a whole new world of emotion and instincts

Their first motion was to reach out and place their hand over your heart to confirm it through your bond, if only because they couldn't get their words to work and they needed that grounding touch

Once he's collected himself, he's over the moon. Is it terrifying? Sure, but it's also going to be the adventure of a lifetime, and it means building a new future and family with you! As parents!

They want to tell Aisha and Salim about it as soon as you're comfortable because they've done this before, they can help. And also because they’re going to be grandparents

Covers you with enchantments to keep you and the baby safe and happy and keeps a growing list of the most unhinged baby names to make you laugh. Faust likes to gently squeeze your bump

Makes every pregnancy craving you have and tries it with you, no matter how weird. He's got three years of practice being your caregiver and his patience for the mood swings is unending

Spends an hour every night with an ear against your baby bump, listening to them grow and thrive

Offers you every type of pain relief they can find. If not for your sake, then for theirs, because seeing you hurt makes them panic

Holds you the whole way through childbirth, no matter how messy, and stays so reassuring and supportive

Scared to hold the baby at first because he's so shaky from emotions. Won't put it down once he does

Nadia

The news is so unexpected that she just can't believe it at first

As in, her brain is genuinely incapable of immediately processing what you've just told her, so she just finishes her task before running it through her head a second time before it sinks in

The loudest gasp you've ever heard, you see her drop her teacup as her hands fly to cover her mouth and she stares at you in surprise

So happy. So, so, so very happy

She was never going to pressure you into having children. Between her driven nature and her ongoing loneliness, she'd resigned herself to never being a mother after marrying Lucio

But oh my! What a wonderful surprise! There's so much to do, she's slightly worried that nine months isn't going to be enough time

She sends for multiple physicians and invites several of them to live in the Palace through the pregnancy, and begins the interview process for your baby's pediatrician as well. She wants you healthy

Has the time of her life decorating the baby's future room and ends up getting so emotional looking at all the tiny clothes and shoes

Refuses to let you sleep by yourself. She doesn't want you to feel limited on a day-to-day basis at all, but she doesn't like you being alone for too long, especially during such quiet and precious hours

Prefers to hold off on giving her family any news or updates until she's had at least a few days to let it sink it. Each update she does send provokes a tidal wave of letters and advice and offers, not to mention Grandpa Namar's tear-stained letters of excitement

Has to hide sobs when she holds her child and announces its name

Muriel

Straight up disassociates. Not due to any fault of yours, it's just a lot. Especially given his own context for parenting (or lack thereof)

"Muriel, I'm pregnant." soul gets yoinked through the stratosphere

You know him well enough to expect him to need a moment, so you're not surprised when he shakily nods, takes a deep breath, and tells you he'll be back before dark before walking off into the trees

Deeply apologetic once he gets back because in hindsight ghosting you might not have been the most appropriate response

He's happy, if not deeply anxious, but he gets more and more excited with every pregnancy update

He makes the baby's crib himself, seeking out the tree with the best wood, chopping it up, designing and cutting the pieces, carving and sanding and painting them with the utmost care

As your due date gets closer he starts reverting to an old habit of his, waking up several times through the night with a need to keep watch for any dangers or discomforts and make sure you're warm

You wake up to this sometimes, with him sitting quietly next to you in bed, one large hand resting protectively on your belly, a quiet smile on his face as he stares at the cradle on the other side of the room and counts every tiny kick the baby lands on his warm palm

He doesn't hesitate to tell Asra, Nadia, (and yes, Julian) about your pregnancy, because he knows they'll be able to help you in ways he can't. Watching you in pain during birth is almost traumatic for him

Doesn't say a word when you hand him his baby, just looks back and forth between you and them in delight and awestruck joy

Portia

Screams. Legitimate, jaw dropped, lung-deep screaming

Yes it's because she's excited!!! You're pregnant! That's amazing!!

Funnily enough, she doesn't bring up telling anybody else until several weeks have gone by or until you suggest it. She's used to keeping secrets and this is so special she's still finding words for it

She's also more familiar with what pregnancy can look like, and she doesn't want to make any big announcements with you too early

Borderline obsessive about making sure that you're properly fed and cared for. She keeps every snack stocked, gives you massages every night, asks you about any symptoms and offers relief

She ends up inviting everyone over for dinner so you two can break the news to them together, and if one Devorak wasn't loud and emotional enough, two of them are almost too much for the roof

Mazelinka is quick to offer her services, whether that be bringing soup, taking you two (three?!) to Nevivon so the grandmas can help, grabbing one of the grandmas and bringing them here, etc

Pepi develops a new habit of bringing you stolen fish at least once a day to make sure your growing kitten is properly nourished. the smell doesn't help your morning sickness but you appreciate it

Portia cries every time she sits down to work on another onesie or baby blanket or cloth diaper, which is several times a day

When it's time for you to give birth, she holds your hands as tightly as you hold hers and nearly knocks a doctor out of the way to catch the baby

Full-on happy sobbing when she holds them. Gets jealous anytime someone besides you gets to hold them longer than her

Lucio

Assumes you're joking until you tell him otherwise because what

It's not that he's against it, but realistically speaking he knows that one of him is already a lot to handle. And you're cooking another??

Once you convince him, his exuberant yells startle flocks of birds from the treetops in a half-mile radius. Speaking of trees ...

You two are journeymen. Where are you going to settle down?

You end up picking a spot close enough to Vesuvia for your old friends to be able to help, in a town where you know you'll have a fresh start. Buying a cottage is hard when you're used to a palace

Lucio occasionally remembers his mother's comments about how her pregnancy with him made the Red Plague seem like a summer cold, and then he panics about how much pain you must be in

Sits bolt-upright in bed four months in to your pregnancy in a cold sweat because it just hit him that your belly bump is actually an entire tiny human that's half him and half you and it's miraculous

Starts talking to your bump almost constantly after that

Everything from what the dogs are doing, to the right way to start a fire, to the best types of cookies - he's telling it all to the bump

Does he know, logically, that your baby isn't likely to be born missing an arm because of his amputation? Yes. Does he still have an irrational fear of that happening? Also yes.

Has such a hard time controlling his frustration during the birth when you're in pain and there's nothing he can do about it

Wraps his golden arm in a baby blanket and doesn't care about the mess the first time he holds them and presses a kiss to their head

[thedarlingdearestdead]

Locked up with Anakin:

Summary: Enemies to lovers (almost). You're locked up with Anakin Skywalker and ~tension~ happens.

Warnings: None just fluff and banter.

Word count: 1,330

"It's no use." He says uninterestedly, watching you pull at the door. "I already tried that."

You bristled at his unhelpfulness. Anakin Skywalker was seated in the far corner of the dark cell, under the light of the only small window, a tiny rectangle high up on the wall. The light outside was dying, the suns setting, illuminating the cell only slightly in an orange glow.

"How long have we been in here?" You asked, having only awoken moments ago. Cold, tired, and terribly confused. 

"I don't know for sure. I only gained consciousness a couple of hours ago. Hopefully this is the first sunset and we were only out for a few hours but there's no way to know for sure."

You groaned and wiped your face with your hands. A four day offensive on Ryloff, you just arrive back into orbit before your ship was pulled in via a tractor beam. Some kind of gas must have knocked the two of you out because now you were most certainly on a planet somewhere. 

"I sent out a distress signal before we were cut off. I'm sure they've already sent someone to come get us." He says lazily, arms crossed on his chest as he watched you try to think. 

You roll your eyes and take stock of what you had on you. No saber, obviously, no... anything. Frustration bubbled up inside of you, finding outlet in Anakin's bored features. 

Here you were, stuck in a cell with no way out, and he was acting like it was no big deal. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before turning to him.

"Can't you at least try and help me think of a way out?" you asked, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

Anakin shrugged. "I've been trying, but it's not like I have my lightsaber or any of my other tools."

You knew he had a point, but you couldn't just sit there and wait for rescue. You looked around the cell, taking note of the stone walls and the metal door. There was a small vent near the ceiling, but it was too small for either of you to fit through.

You paced back and forth in the cramped space, "Ok fine. forget escaping - for now. Do you have any idea where we are? Who took us?" 

Anakin let out a sigh, his face twisted in a scowl. "I have no idea. This place is unfamiliar to me, and whoever took us must have jammed our senses somehow. I can't even use the Force to sense anything outside of this cell."

You nodded, glad he had some understanding the gravity of your situation. "So, what now?"

Anakin's eyes flickered to the metal door, his mind working. "We wait for our captors to show themselves. When they do, we take them by surprise and make our escape."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "And how do you propose we do that?"

Anakin smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I have my ways."

"Force, I hate you." You sit down in the opposite corner of his room and he looks at you with complete amusement. 

"What have I done?"

"Nothing. That's the problem." You say to his increasing agitation. “I’m sure you used to this by now but I don’t want to be locked up here!”

"Hey - what’s that supposed to mean?! Look, I can't magic us out of here! And I don't see you being very productive either!”

“Oh come on, this is not your first time locked up like this! You must be able to do something!” You say exasperated. 

He was getting wound up now. “I got nothing! I’m stuck here, same as you. We just have to sit here and wait.”

You huff, annoyed. 

Silence falls between you as you both settle in for the long wait ahead. The orange glow of the suns outside fades to darkness, leaving the cell in complete blackness. You're left to your thoughts and fears, wondering what fate awaits you at the hands of your captors. Wondering if Anakins eyes will ever leave your face. He has been staring at you for what feels like hours. Glaring, or gloating, something horrible. He always drove you crazy, it was supposed to be the quickest of missions otherwise you were sure to have put up more of a fight when the council paired you two up for it. 

So you sat here, frozen, feeling helpless as he stared, waiting for him to look away so he could think of some way to free you from your predicament. You didn't want his attention. So you simply sat quietly, trying to ignore him as best you could. 

 If Anakin kept looking at you like that, you might end up killing him, or worse, you might just go crazy under his gaze, lose your nerve and start kissing him.

No. Stop thinking about that. Just focus on the mission. You let your head lean back against the wall and let out a weary sigh, shivering slightly in the cold. 

As the moments dragged on in the dark cell, the tension between you and Anakin only seemed to grow. His intense gaze remained fixed on you, and you could practically feel the waves of irritation radiating from him. It was infuriating how he managed to push your buttons even in the direst of situations.

"Listen, I know we don't always see eye to eye, but if we're going to get out of here, we need to work together. Can you promise me that we'll put our differences aside for now? We need to be ready to face whoever has us, and I don’t want you using me as a human shield if it comes to it.”

You look up from your brooding and softened slightly, noticing for the first time some signs of agitation and fidgeting from you cell-mate, you nodded. “Fine. I'll do what it takes to get out of here safely. We can argue later."

He grins at that, posture relaxing slightly. “Ok then.” 

The two of you sat in silence once again, but this time it was a more peaceful one. You could hear each other's breathing, the rustling of clothes as you shifted your weight, and the occasional creaking of the cell door. It was in this stillness that Anakin spoke up once more.

"You know, I've been thinking," he began.

"Dangerous." You quip, and he rolls his eyes. 

"Fine, don't worry about it."

"No- No, come on please. I'm sorry!" You laugh at him a bit to ease the tension in the room.

"It's just- It's pretty cold in here."

"Yes"

"And it's going to get worse."

Oh. "Oh. Right well... You're right." Before you could think too much of it you stand up and go to sit beside him. Still leaving about a foot of space between you, much to his amusement. 

"I don't bite. Well... I won't" He seems to find this all too funny, patting the space right next to himself rather condescendingly. You had half a mind to go back to where you were before but you shuffle over, huffing again, choosing practicality instead of pettiness. At least you could be the bigger person.

Your shoulders were touching now and as the sky grew ever darker you legs found their way to each other as well. It was unconsciously done, minuscule movements over the hours drawing you together. 

You couldn't help but notice the way Anakin's body seemed to fit so perfectly against yours, as if it was meant to be there.

You could feel the heat emanating from Anakin's body, and it was a welcome relief from the cold stone walls. As fatigue won you over your head sunk with heaviness, ever closer to his shoulder. Until eventually the two of you were asleep, tangled together in the corner of the cell. 

And that's exactly how Obi Wan found you in the small hours of the morning…

[natti-ice]

Would You Have Me?- Sirius Black.

Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is the only person in Sirius’ life he truly cares about, he wouldn’t mind if it was only them

Warnings: modern high school au!, written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1.6k words)

Author's note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

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The final bell rang, it was Friday hundreds of students poured out of the school doors ready for the weekend. Y/N was among the swarm of kids, headed toward her bus. Thankful it was the weekend, this week had been a lot on her. Off in the distance, she could hear her name over the loud voices. Looking around shielding her eyes from the sun, she could see a tall boy headed her way. 

It was Sirius

"There you are," he said when he reached her, throwing his arm around her shoulder "Where are you off to?" he asked

"My bus" she pointed to the big yellow vehicle

"C'mon, I'll take you home" he offered

"Really?" she asked

"Yeah, you can tell me all about your day"

They walked to the student parking lot, Sirius drove a black '89 Dodge charger. It was a little squeaky, but he loves that car. 

He opens the passenger door for Y/N, closing it once she was in. Sirius Drove the long way to her house so they could talk longer.

"How was your day, dear?" he asks pulling out of the campus

"It was fine, I'm glad the week is over. Everything has been a lot lately" 

It was their junior year, everyone is starting to worry about their futures. Their career, college, exams, everything stressful. 

"I know what you mean, it feels like we have to know everything about the future before it happens" he replies

They continue their conversation all the way to Y/N's house. They've always been able to tell each other everything without feeling judged. Nowadays, it feels like you have to make sure everything is perfect because the whole world is watching, waiting for you to fall.

He was her safe place, and she was his. 

Sirius pulls up in front of her house, parking the car.

"Thanks for the ride, Sirius" she says opening the car door

"Of course, love. Hey, do you wanna hang out tomorrow?" he asks

"Yeah, sure I'll ask my parents. I'll text you" she answers

"Great, I'll see you soon then" He smiles

"Bye" she says closing the door.

He waits for her to go inside before driving off like he does every time. He sees her almost every day, but he still gets excited when they hang out. It's like a new experience every time, even when they've done it one hundred times before.

-

When he got home, he waited anxiously for her text. Her parents have never said no before, but it still made him a little nervous. He's made sure over the years that her parents liked him, he didn't want them to think he was just some guy who was only hanging out with their daughter to get in her pants.

He started his homework that probably won't get finished till Monday morning, checking his phone every few minutes.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, she texted him

parents said it's cool What did you have in mind?

 Movie? Wonka is still showing. Stay at my place after?

Timothee Chalamet? HELL YEAH! Definitely down for a sleepover

 Great! I'll pick u up at 4

See you then! <3

He was happy that she could come, he liked being able to get out of the house and escape with her. Everyone has family issues, his family was distant from each other. It was almost like they were roommates, not a family. His parents didn't care if he was gone or if he had someone over.

His brother stayed in his room most of the day when he got home from school. Their bond was limited to short interactions in the dining room on special occasions.

Y/N was his real family, she was always there for him whenever he needed her. At school, many people claimed to be his friend, they'd say hey in the hallway or talk about some game that happened the night before. None of them would actually have a real meaningful conversation with him.

He didn't get why he was so popular, he was sociable and easy on the eyes sure, but nobody knew the real him. It seemed like they had all made a false version of him in their heads. A mysterious ladies' man who could have anyone he wanted.

That wasn't true at all, he wasn't a mystery at all. He was very open once you got to know him, only Y/N had ever made the effort to do so. The whole 'ladies' man' thing was really funny to him. He'd never had a serious girlfriend, a few dates here and there but nothing real.

Many of those girls thought that him and Y/N had a thing going on so they would stop talking to him completely. At first he didn't know why they would think that, he thought their friendship seemed very platonic. Then he realized some of the things they would do seemed a little too friendly.

That didn't stop him. If he was honest, he didn't care about those girls at school. If there was only one girl in the world and he had to pick her. It would be Y/N. Always Y/N.

-

Saturday came around, Sirius waited all day for 4 o'clock. He didn't like to be late, he pulled up in front of her house a few minutes early so he could greet her parents.

Turning off his car, walking up to the front door. He rings the doorbell that has a little camera on it. A few seconds later, her mother opens the door

"Sirius, how are you, dear?" she asks bringing him in for a hug

'I'm great, Mrs. L/N. How's everything?"

"Everything's fine, Y/N should be ready by now." she told the boy "Y/N, Sirius is here!" she yelled up the stairs

She came down the stairs, a small bag in her hand. 

"Sorry, had to make sure I had everything, are you ready?" she asks Sirius

"Yeah, I'll see you later, Mrs. L/N" 

He and Y/N get in his car, driving to the local movie theater. 

That movie was almost 3 hours long, but that's okay. They didn't mind sitting in a dark room together in silence. It was much later, the sun was starting to set when they headed towards Sirius' house.

His parent's car wasn't in the driveway thankfully, awkward hellos are never fun. They realize they're starving and order take out.

Once it finally arrives, he takes her up to his room. Passing by Regulus' room, she could hear gunfire from some video game.

"Don't mind him, it's like he's married to the game. Hardly comes out the room" Sirius explains opening his bedroom door.

It was relatively clean, only because he knew she was coming over. His walls were lined with movie posters from the 80s and now, some of his favorite vinyls, and photo booth pictures of him and Y/N from various locations.

He made sure his space represented him. The real him. 

They spend the next couple of hours eating and watching random videos on youtube until they got bored of it. Putting on Evermore on as background music as they talked.

Both of them are sitting on the floor, Sirius leaning against the wall, Y/N against his bed

They jumped from topic to topic as the night progressed, getting into the more personal topics. A few weeks ago, Y/N started talking to a boy named Kevin. She seemed to have liked him until she stopped talking about him.

Sirius had been curious about that for a while, he thought it was a good time to ask

"Whatever happened to that Kevin guy? I thought you two were getting serious" he asks

"Oh him? That's long gone" she shrugged, "He said he just didn't feel anything for me" she explained, she didn't show it but she was a little hurt by the boy's words.

"Oh my god, he sucks. Anyone would be more than lucky to have you" He was mad that anyone would treat her like this. "Fuck that guy"

"It's alright, I didn't need him in my life" she wanted to get the topic off her "What about you? Anyone new in your life?"

"Nah" he smiles "I don't want anyone new, honestly"

"What do you mean?" she asks

"I'm happy just having you in my life, sometimes I wish it could always just be you and me" he says in a low voice

"That would be great, honestly. Just us against the world" she agrees

"Y/N?" his voice barely above a whisper, fidgeting with a ring on his hand

"Yeah?" 

He swallowed before replying, "I think I'm in love with you"

"What?" she laughed nervously, he got up and sat next to her

"When I think of my future, having a family and owning a house, you're there right next to me. I've tried to convince myself that it's only because there isn't anyone else in my life" He pauses searching her face for any sort of bad emotion "I know now, it's because I don't want anyone else in my life but you"

Y/N's brain was all over the place, trying to figure out what to say. Sirius has been her rock for so long, she had a small crush on him. She didn't think he would ever reciprocate it

"I don't know what to say" she admits

"That's alright, you don't have to say anything. If you're willing, maybe we could see if this goes anywhere?" 

She reaches down grabbing his hand, lacing her fingers with his. "I think we can make it work" she smiles "After all, we're still getting married at 30 right?" she laughed

"Right Right. A pact is a pact, dear" he smiles

She gives him a small kiss on the cheek, slowly pulling away. Their faces were dangerously close together, warm breath fanning against their skin. Y/N closes the distance. Their lips perfectly fitting each other, just like they were made for each other.

Sirius pulled away, not wanting things to get carried away. Y/N rest her head on his shoulder

"So, what color should our invitations be?"

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Tag list:

@thebiggestnaturaldisaster @madwcman @de-duchess @timbradfordisbae @mommymilkerfanclub @oatmilkriver @hisparentsgallerryy

join a tag list!

[nostalgia-tblr]

My Next Attempt At Long Fic (by which I mean more than 10000 words and it has chapters) Should Be...

Poll and the (actually quite long) gist of each option below le cut:

The Sylki Con Artists AU

This one I have a wee bit written of already but I go back and forth on this one because it's Alternative Universe - Modern Setting and I feel like there's already a lot of those (which I also complain about a lot), and I have to justify it to myself as an experiment in whether I can do a Sylki Modern AU that doesn't just end up as "two people called Loki and Sylvie do normal stuff together". That's why they are con artists in this! Because 1) MISCHIEF (or crime, or whatever) and 2) if they have the same 'job' for similar reasons and I go on about them being similar a lot then that's maybe as close as reality can get to selfcest. (The selfcest is not just a feature of sylki, I feel it is THE feature and to admit to being Bad At Shipping (again) I'm just not that interested in it if they're different people who aren't even aliens. The same alien.) (You can tell me they are gods all you want but I've seen enough Doctor Who to know that must be A LIE so I reject it as such.)

The plot is that they meet in a bar one night and shag (obviously!) and then the reader discovers that Loki is trying to buy a painting from an old woman (planning on ripping off both her and his own buyer) and Sylvie is an artist who is selling a forged painting to some posh twat on the internet who she knows is trying to rip off her fake old lady persona on the deal but she's selling him a fake painting anyway so at least he deserves to be conned. They meet up a few times before finally realising that they are in fact conning each other under fake names on the internet, and then I have to try and fix it when they inevitably get mad at each other because of it. Also, Thor works in a shop because the brodinsons are Downwardly Mobile (dad spent all their inheritance, oh no!) Plotwise Loki is going to actually need Sylvie's painting for reasons I have not yet entirely worked out so one way or another they will have to eventually forgive each other for being con artists as they themselves are and for having attempted to con each other.

Ideally I will be able to make this one funny in some way, as I think the concept can get absurd enough to make a rom-com out of it.

2. The Jotun Heat Fic (also sylki)

I was into this one for about a day and now I have second thoughts because I am not sure I care enough about Frost Giant Biology to have to write an entire fic about it. It would continue my tradition (I did it once, that's enough for it to be a tradition) of turning a tiny ficlet into a much longer thing. This one: The Opposite of Heat, in which Loki and Sylvie go into whatever the Jotun equivalent of the fandom fave 'mating cycles/in heat' trope is, having never done so before because (see if you can guess...) they've never previously spent enough time around another Jotun for the hormones to kick in properly. They have no idea this can happen, and what starts out as Fun Porno-Fic Times soon gets a bit worrying and then I suppose they have to Investigate and that's the bit I fear might end up boring me.

This is set in an AU where S2!Loki did not instantly demand that Sylvie help him with his cop friends' problems and instead just went to live in Oklahoma with her, so the other/'real' plot is them getting used to living together and the weird-but-sexy medical issue bringing them into conflict because of course the first place Loki wants to go for help is the TVA (this not unreasonable of him, as they have a lot of info in their archives and he has no other friends anyway), which Sylvie is not keen on as she would rather just avoid them for the rest of forever. Gosh, I hope nobody goes to the TVA for help behind anyone else's back!

I need a way to make this one stay interesting once it gets to the Find Out What Is Happening part and also it needs to not just immediately end with a sensible solution like just going to Jotunheim and asking someone there for a talk about the frost-birds and the frost-bees.

Also I think they should fuck in that McDonalds. Just because.

3. Jotunheim Rejects The Guy Who Cannot Possibly Be Its Rightful King, Because I'm Annoying Like That AU (not thorki)

Speaking of going to Jotunheim, you know all those fics where Loki goes to be the Rightful King Of Frostland, as Odin apparently planned all along? That but it doesn't work, because I am not at all convinced he can have been Laufey's heir (who the fuck infanticides their only male heir?!) and even if he was well it'd just look awful, wouldn't it? Crusty Old Odin, worst friend to Jotunheim for several years running, sends back your kingdom's heir having raised him as one of his own family. (I hope at least one of you is thinking "US-Backed Puppet Ruler Who Will Do Whatever The CIA Tells Them To" because I did too! Ooh, geopolitical barely-subtext!)

The problem with this one for me is it requires a fairly large cast of Original Jotun Characters, and I still fear writing OCs because of the constant 'Mary-Sue' complaints in my fannish youth. Also I would Controversially (LOL not really) make some of them women, including Angrboda the ambitious would-be consort and Laufey's tragically spurned lover who on finding out that her long-dead son is not dead makes the most of it by insisting everyone call her 'My Lady, the King's Mother' (yes, I stole that from History but I do that sort of thing now, for the LOLs). So I have a bit of an idea what happens in this one, though I'd need to think of more political type plot stuff and also I just finished writing a multichapter fic that involved the Jotun succession so maybe I'd be overdoing it if I did this one now as well.

The other problem is Jotuns are too fucking tall. I mean really. This doesn't seem to bother anyone else but they are Too Fucking Tall to interact with the shorter characters, to the point that it just seems accidentally comedic to me. Just imagine the totally-not-a-puppet king of Jotunheim sitting on a massive throne, swinging his wee legs in the air. And I don't know how to work around that other than just saying "they are Less Fucking Tall in this fic" and I don't know if that would just annoy people. Also it does feel a bit incendiary to go against the general fandom insistence that Loki Is Totally The Rightful King Of Jotunheim. Though I suppose in this he is, it's just that he attempts to become so in the sort of circumstances that make everyone start saying things like "are we really that keen on our monarchy?" or at least "surely there's a cousin or an uncle we could give the crown to instead? yeah, even a woman would do. no, she doesn't have to be alive if there are only dead ones available."

(It was a mistake to let me read books about the Wars of the Roses, wasn't it?)

Oh and this isn't a thorki fic, but Thor is going to go to Jotunheim with his bro to help him settle in and also he will be going back to rescue him from it at the end. Bros before snows!!!!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

One Little Mistake

Week #10 Prompt: "I'm a great driver!" | Word Count: 791 | Rating: T | POV: Dustin | Characters: Dustin, Steve, Mike, Lucas | CW: Language | Tags: Steve & Dustin, Steve Teaches Dustin To Drive, And Mike, And Lucas, God Help Him

"No, no, no, stop, stop, stop!" Steve screams from the passenger seat, and Dustin slams on the brakes, sure he's about to run over a litter of puppies or plow into a field trip from the local preschool or old folks' home.

"What? Where?" Dustin asks, looking all around, as Steve clings to the dashboard of his BMW.

"A stop sign, right there!" he points, and well, Dustin for sure didn't see that. There was a bush in the way. Well, a bush near it. Behind it. 

Semantics.

It doesn't matter. There was nobody coming, so it's not like they were gonna die. They've been in way worse situations than this together. Steve's just being a little overdramatic. 

"Well, shit," Dustin says, "that'd cost me points if this was my actual test."

"It'll cost your life if you crash my car, Henderson, pay attention!" Steve scolds, and it just rolls right off Dustin's back. Nothing Steve says sticks very long. In one ear, and out the other.

"You're never gonna pass driver's ed, we may as well just get your bike serviced and call it a day," Mike says from the back, and Dustin whips around in his seat. 

Steve can pick on him. Mike can't.

"Shut up! You didn't do any better!"

"He did a little better," Lucas mumbles, and Dustin sees Steve smile out of the corner of his eyes.

"Steve! You're my friend. You're gonna take their side? I'm a great driver!"

"You are not a great driver. Only Max is worse," Steve says. 

Dustin lets out an annoyed huff of breath. "For one, false. For two, Max wasn't even old enough to drive back then. She could barely even reach the pedals. So, that's decidedly unfair and unjust, dickhead."

Steve lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Just. Get out. Lesson over for today. I've met my threshold," Steve snaps, holding his hand over the top of his head, and then gets out of the car. 

Dustin could drive off, leaving him, but figures Steve will just be pissier than ever if he does. 

Dude can't take a joke anymore. They've had one apocalypse too many. 

"Ten more minutes!" Dustin wheedles. 

"No, no, no. No more. Not today," Steve says, holding open the driver's door, waiting for Dustin to get out. 

Only after Dustin's gotten out, does he realize that he didn't put it in park, only neutral, which means the car tries to roll away into the intersection, forcing Steve to hurry up and hop in, slamming on the brakes. Mike and Lucas both screaming in the backseat, like they haven't faced literal monsters.

Steve gives him a withering stare as Dustin slumps into the passenger's seat, ready and willing to pout. It was one little mistake.

Maybe two.

Ten, at most.

They drop off Lucas and Mike, which is at least convenient, since they live next door to one another. 

And then it's just him and Steve driving him home in silence, before parking in the driveway. 

"Hey," Steve says, looking over at him, "you can do this. You're just overthinking it."

Dustin knows that's probably true. 

"Can we try again? Just you and me?"

"Sure, man," Steve says, and gets out to trade places. Dustin hadn't actually meant right now, assuming Steve was seriously done for the day, but Steve starts his spiel all over again.

And Dustin listens. Goes through the motions, the checklist, and then they ease back out onto the street. Dustin wants to learn how to drive, he just thought it'd be easier than it is. He's smart. He should be able to do this, easy.

But it's not easy. And that really pisses him off.

Steve is calmer this time around, just being the two of them is helpful for that, at least. Dustin knows Mike pushes Steve's buttons, even on the best of days. 

And today was not the best of days. 

But he eases up to the stop sign, rolling to a smooth stop this time. He doesn't mash the brakes, and they don't jerk in their seats. It's an improvement.

"That's it!" Steve says, reaching over to give him a high five. Then immediately shouts, "Both hands on the wheel!"

It makes them both laugh, erasing the tension from earlier.

Sure, he still makes mistakes, but they aren't as severe, or as stressful, one-on-one. 

This is how they should have done it from the start. Just them.

When they get back to the house, Steve adamant that he wasn't ready for after dark lessons, Dustin gets out and meets Steve around the front of the car.

He's getting older, maybe too old for this, but he quickly reaches up on his toes, hugging Steve tight, whispering, "Thanks, Steve."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[auncyen]

me getting some work done for au act 5 (I WANNA CONTINUE IIIIIT it's just. ...I really need to decide what I'm doing with the House for act 5 is the real issue lol) I've talked about the group belatedly realizing Siffrin was throwing red flags during their journey recently mostly because THIS exchange was on my brain. now it is in text. hopefully it will survive to the fic.

-

Isabeau lifts his chin, glancing first at the door to the bedroom before looking at Madame Odile and you. "…Has Siffrin said anything about where they're from? To either of you? They were talking about all of us splitting up after we defeat the King, and sure, we were planning to, but…he's not doing well. I'm sure it'd help if we figure out how to stop this whole 'looping' business, but even then, I don't know if he'd be safe on his own, or able to deal with other people. I just…I'd like to help him get back home, somewhere he'd feel safe. If he'd let me."

Odile shakes her head. "I'd given up on trying to get anything out of them months ago."

Thinking back on the last few months of the journey, a terrible realization curdles in your gut.

"I…I don't think they have a home, actually, not one they'd go back to," you say. Both Isabeau and Odile look at you with alarm, and you stammer. Maybe you're wrong! You want to be wrong. But you need to say it, just in case. "I--they didn't say they didn't, but, uhm, once I asked them if they were really okay continuing on our journey, and he said it was more than okay. That he was the happiest he'd ever been."

"Oh," Madame Odile says, frowning for a moment before she holds up a hand. "Well--I understand why you'd be concerned, Mirabelle, but that may not have meant anything particularly. Siffrin did have a habit of not taking things seriously, especially before the incident--"

"No, Madame, you don't understand!" you object, though when you hear your own voice rising you try to rein it back in. You can't wake Bonnie and worry them more. "I asked him that--I think it was three weeks after they'd lost their eye." Siffrin had still been struggling with the loss of vision back then--even now they still bumped into things occasionally, but they've doing much better than when they'd regularly bump into things or trip themself up. "Because I thought, surely, after that, he'd want to go home, right? I wanted him to know I wouldn't blame him in the least. But he--they didn't even think about how to answer, just smiled and said they were the happiest they'd been, when they'd just lost an eye, when they could have died--and I don't. I don't think he was joking at all, or being insincere." He'd seemed so earnest, it had completely disarmed you. You'd thought so hard about how to approach the topic so that he wouldn't think you thought he was being troublesome, just that you wanted the best for them. But they'd claimed they liked being on your quest best and dried up all the words still lodged in your throat. "But if he was being honest, then…"

"…Then what was their life before, that that was the happiest?" Odile concludes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looks tired, her expression sagging. "Gems alive, that one. I…I did wonder sometimes, how cavalier he was when he accidentally set off traps and nearly got himself…"

Isabeau's arms are still folded, one hand gripping the other arm's sleeve and bunching it up. "That can't be right. He's got to have somewhere he can go back to. Someone who can…"

Help him. After what he'd said in the afternoon, you're not sure you can be that help, or that he'd want your help even if you offered. But the thought of them being alone when they'd been happiest with others around, with that ugly anger brewing inside him, doesn't sit right either.

[asha-mage]

WoT Musing: Bits and Bobs from a book nerd

A few unsorted/random thoughts from a book mega nerd about various things in the show-

It's interesting to me that they changed Logain's innate talent from being able to see ta'veren to being able to see when a man can channel or not. This is practically probably because Mat was also in that scene, but I've also noticed that they've dialed back on the use of the term 'ta'veren' as a whole this season. Probably to avoid over cluttering all the concepts their having to introduce.

Elayne's desire to work with her hands/fascination with craftsmanship showing itself in her 'sparker trick' being a weave to make alcohol is very funny and on brand.

The show is continuing to walk out the small shifts in it's dynamics born of re-ordering things in a smart way. Everyone being slightly older was felt sharply in season 1: Mat's mischief and gambling is a whole lot less cute and a whole lot more worrying since he's no longer a teen, Perrin is married (like always intended to be) and settled as the most 'responsible' of the boys, etc. In season 2 Egwene arrived first instead of Elayne, and is the more experienced/knowing Novice, to Elayne's naive newcomer. As a result we get to see the slightly spoiled sweet girl she was before the Tower started to bust down her pride and teach her more about the world. She's a little more unsure, and a little more eager to make friends- both of which work in favor of showing off her strengths as a character, endearing her to both Egwene and the audience.

The choice to give Perrin the ability to see visions of the past with his wolf brother powers is interesting. I get that they need a visual way to express Perrin's wolf senses, and this is probably the most direct, since their's not a non-weird way to visually depict smell, but I hope we at least get a TAR related explanation from Elyas.

I find the use of the Crimson Thorn as a symbol of the Red Ajah and the cruel mercy that they grant to be fascinating. More over, I find Nynaeve's being pulled between the Red and Yellow Ajahs (something I suspect we are going to get more of) to be smartly done: Nynaeve has never been afraid of doing what needs to be done, but that doesn't make it easy, and Liandrin is right: to an extent that their always been a little bit of Red in her, a belief that the world would be better if everyone just followed her rules. And yet it is her compassion that defines her, that fuels her rage most of the time. Compassion for those hurt and sick and dying turns to rage against what caused it: a cruel world or a war or a sickness. Compassion for those she cares most for fuels her rage at those that would threaten, hurt, or control them. She left the Two Rivers to protect the EF5 and that remains her goal all the way to the series's end, her character arc is largely about accepting what that will mean, and learning not to be afraid to claim the power to do that.

I've said this in various other forms but it bares repeating: Lanfear really is winning right out the gate. She's got the hot new hardware LTT as her naive sugar baby, their is no one in sight to threaten her control over him with things like 'morals' and 'duty', and he's slowly succumbing to her influence. More then worth the price of having to run a small business in a slum I'm sure.

That said I want a 50k word fic that is just Lanfear's Adventures in Small Business Ownership. We know those drinks where over priced, but where they watered down? Did she have to pay a mortgage? Deal with uppity suppliers? Was their a Darkfriend Company Discount as Selene's Totally Normal And Not At All Evil Bed and Breakfast?

I have two nitpicks that are so minor they barely warrant discussion, and one is not even the show's fault. The first is that everyone keeps saying things like 'your powers' rather then 'strength in the power'. Jordan goes to so much trouble to make the point that people and objects don't have the power, they use it and strong in the power, and then Sanderson changed it to 'my powers' and 'how powerful he is' and *gargles*. This is like the peaches all over again.

The second is that as much as they nail the arches scene/ceremony, I wish they had gone the final mile and said 'Be steadfast'. It wasn't necessary exactly, but it's exclusion made me whisper under my breath, like a rhyme I just HAD to finish.

(This is completely normal and sane person behavior, stop looking at me like that internet stranger).

I don't have to much to say about Mat's story line beyond being VERY interested in where they are going tying him and Min together. I still needs to get off the ground for me to have more Thoughts.

Adeleas being Cringefail re: Lan is so funny to me in ways I can't quite explain.

I reiterate the point that since Rand's can't be Warder trained, giving him an old veteran blade master who is suffering from PTSD/Dementia was a VERY smart move that fits the feel of the books.

RIP Joshua's soft boy curls. You where a casualty of this war.

[tornadotree]

Whether done intentionally or not, I like how the ways of Rida and Jodie trying to help Cam just allowed him to push them away whereas Siobhans allowed him to feel safe talking to her so much so he went towards her rather than pushed her away.

Jodie and Rida are worried about him, but they comment on his state in a way that I feel makes him defensive. Jodie sarcastically asks if he has a busy day ahead. Rida comments on it not being normal to watch so much daytime telly.

Jodie states "Look at the state of you," she says that he's "wallowing," that "it's been weeks since baby Chloe died" and questions whether something else is wrong after telling him they've all lost patients and they've never acted in such a way.

"Are you sure there's nothing else?"

He's unable to tell them there is something else and he feels worse for this because his friends seem burdened by his behaviour. He's not acting his usual self and this is brought up as a nuisance for Jodie and Rida from Cam's perspective rather than a concern.

"You should come to the Schwartz later." It's what he should do. Not what he wants, but what he should do to stop being so burdensome.

Siobhan, however, validates his struggles, telling him it's okay to feel that way. She offers a way for him to open up, reassuring him that "whatever it is, it's okay."

When he pushes back, she doesn't try and pull it out of him. She takes his word and tells him that they can talk about the babys death again-no "it was weeks ago" or "we've all lost patients." She doesn't try to make him feel worse for feeling this way. She tells him that everyone is in the same boat, reinforcing the fact he is not wrong for feeling this way and he is not alone.

She asks him if he'll attend the Schwartz later, telling him he doesn't have to do it for himself, but he can do it for the team. He hates everything about himself right now but this gives him something outside of himself to focus on. She confirms with him that Schwartz have helped him in the past, so maybe this may help him feel better too.

It's not to stop being so burdensome on those around him, it's for him.

When he's approached in the pub by Teddy, Jodie and Rida, they question whether drowning his sorrows is a good idea, another critique that he'll no doubt hate himself for. They tell him "We'll put you in a taxi-" they don't allow him a choice in the matter. Jodie tells him its a problem to drink when he is "the way he is at the moment"- again something he will take as a jab due to his fragile state.

And then he breaks.

He's been crowded by people with good intentions but who are allowing him the room to push them further and further away. And he takes that room and shoves them completely out of it.

But then Siobhan arrives.

She reassures him. "This isn't like you Cam." She wants to understand and she allows him that space to reflect. She knows he's not himself, and he needs to get out of the mindset that this is just how he is.

"Something else?" She's careful not to make any assumptions. She wants him to be able to get to a point where he can open up. She allows him that space to tell her.

"Tell me if I'm wide off the mark" again allowing him that agency he was denied with Jodie and Rida to talk about his feelings. She asks if he believes Bobby. He doesn't respond and she doesn't press him to. She tells him she can see he's hurting-again validating how he's feeling.

He says, "I trusted him."

She responds, "Of course you did."

She's relieving that blame on himself ever so slightly, she's soft and gentle in her approach, and she shows him the warmth and validation that he's needed all these years.

[bi-bard]

Gracie Abrams Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Nick Burkhardt - Nick Burkhardt Imagine [Grimm]

Title: Gracie Abrams Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Nick Burkhardt

Pairing: Nick Burkhardt X Reader

Word Count: 2,197 words

Warning(s): brief mention of past trauma (non-specific), fear of commitment, fear of death/injury, Wesen racism

Summary: Three songs by Gracie Abrams that would describe a relationship with Nick Burkhardt.

Author's Note: I hope this will somewhat make up for the fact that I haven't been able to do a writing challenge for Gracie's newest album.

I could've put Tough Love in here to talk about (Y/n) and Monroe, but I only do three at a time, y'know?

---------------------------

Let It Happen

No, I know I'm a walking contradiction and it shows Got a history of being in control I'm aware that I could end up here alone

-- third person p.o.v --

Usually when Nick found himself sitting in Monroe's house, it was to find out the truth about some kind of Wesen that was attacking people.

This conversation was something different entirely. Somehow less serious but more tense. A feeling that Nick would be happy to never experience again.

Monroe called him over, saying that they needed to talk about something important. There wasn't much more said on the phone except for the preface that the talk was going to be focused on (Y/n), which was enough to get Nick to go over as fast as possible.

Monroe and Nick sat at Monroe's table for what felt like hours. A strange silence settled over them. For Nick, it was tense. He was worried that (Y/n) had gotten hurt or that he had done something to upset them. For Monroe, it was awkward. He wasn't sure that this conversation was his to have but felt like he should. He saw (Y/n) as a sibling and siblings were supposed to protect each other.

Monroe nervously cleared his throat before finally speaking up, "I... I have a question to ask."

"Okay," Nick replied, feeling his leg shaking as he tried to stop overthinking how this conversation was going to go.

"And it might be a weird question," Monroe added. "I don't even know if it's my business and you don't need to tell me anything. I would like if you did because the rest of the conversation kinda relies on that-"

"Monroe," Nick cut him off. "What is it?"

"Do you... have feelings for (Y/n)?"

There was a brief moment where it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. So much for thinking he had been subtle. "Uh, yeah. Lucky guess."

"Well... it was Rosalee's guess more than mine," Monroe admitted.

"Great, so everyone just knows?"

"I didn't say that. The two of us had been talking about it and I got worried."

"Worried?" Nick could've scoffed. "You don't think that I'd do something-"

"No, no, of course not." Monroe shook his head. "It's just that I've (Y/n) for a while now. They've been through... a lot."

"Okay." Nick nodded slowly.

"They don't trust a lot of people. I mean, even getting them to trust me was a long process. I mean, seriously, years. But... that's not important right now. What is important is that I care about them. I've seen them get through a lot of crap and I want to see them happy. They deserve it.

"And I can see it when you two talk sometimes. They want... something. Maybe it's just to open up. Maybe it's something more. I'm not sure, but I can see it. I just..."

"What," Nick asked.

"I don't want you to get (Y/n) to trust you just for something to happen that'll screw that up."

"Monroe," Nick leaned forward on the table. "I care about (Y/n) a lot. I know that you do too. I don't know what I'm gonna do. I don't know how they feel yet or if it would be safe. But I promise, if something happens, I'll do everything in my power to make sure that I never let them down."

"Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for-"

Monroe held his hand up. "You gave me a little peace of mind... that's enough."

There was a pause between them before Nick spoke up again, "So, when do I get threatened that you'll kill me if I hurt them?"

"Was that not implied," Monroe asked. He woged quickly.

"Message received."

The Blue

You came out of the blue like that I never could've seen you coming I think you're everything I've wanted

Rosalee's shop was a place of comfort. Maybe it was because it was more often filled with the few people that I considered to be my friends. Or maybe it was simply because it catered mostly to Wesen.

No matter what the reason. It felt natural to find my way there after I had almost been killed.

"How are you feeling," Rosalee asked as she handed me a mug of tea.

"Fine," I muttered. "I... I don't know if it's really hit me yet."

"That's understandable," she replied. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. Let me know if you need me, okay? I'll just be out front."

"Thank you," I said. "For all of this."

"You're welcome." she grinned.

As she turned around to walk to the front, I heard the bell above the door ringing. A few seconds later, Nick was rushing into the room.

"Are you okay," he asked. "I told you to get checked by the paramedics."

"I'm fine," I insisted. "It was just a little shock. Those assholes didn't get a chance to hurt me. How did you even find out I was here?"

"It doesn't matter-"

"Did Rosalee call you?"

"(Y/n), it doesn't matter," he said. "You were almost killed."

"They wish that they could get that close."

He ran his hands over his face.

"Nick, look at me." I stood up, walking over to him. "I'm fine. Might have a bruise or two but other than that, I'm perfectly fine. I'm healthy and safe."

I watched his eyes scan over me.

"You've been in much worse shape than I am right now." I shrugged.

I tensed when he stepped forward and hugged me. My face felt warm. My thoughts were going at a hundred miles an hour. I had spent a long time avoiding my feelings and a major part of that was avoiding any physical touch when I could. I awkwardly hugged him back.

"I'm happy that you're okay," he mumbled. I closed my eyes for a moment.

"Thanks," I replied before abruptly stepping back.

I felt like I could've been knocked over by how he was looking at me. There was just so much worry and care. I hadn't seen that look in a very long time. Even then, it wasn't nearly as intense as this.

I don't know what came over me. I don't think that I even thought about my actions before I had committed to them. All I knew was that one moment I was looking at Nick and the next moment I was leaning forward and kissing him.

I was going to pull away a second after I had done it. But I couldn't before Nick had the chance to pull me closer to him.

I had never experienced a time where something felt so tense yet so correct. Like this was going to happen no matter what. A question of when instead of if. It was all depending on how long it took me to do something about it.

Nick pulled back a few moments later, slowly grinning at me.

It felt like it took ages for my mind to catch up to what had happened.

"Sorry," I mumbled, not fully convinced that I had caught my breath. "I... I don't know what came over me-"

"Don't apologize," he cut me off. "I'm glad that you did."

"Oh," I replied, slowly nodding. "I... I really like you, Nick."

"I'd be a bit confused if you didn't."

I felt my face warm up again as I looked away from him. "I'm telling you how I feel about you and you're being a smartass."

He chuckled. "I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"Over dinner. If you'd like."

I grinned. "That sounds nice."

He leaned forward and kissed me again. Suddenly, I felt like I was completely certain of a choice that I had made.

The Bottom

You could do better You should walk out It's now or never I took the most that you could offer I'm gonna drag you right down to the bottom

I let out a huff as I tossed the unopened envelope on the counter.

All it took was the lack of information on the outside for me to know what it was. I was simply too tired to deal with it today.

"That sigh rattled the house."

I jumped when I heard Nick's voice. "Holy shit!"

He held his hands up. "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to spook you."

"Why aren't you at work? It's 2 in the afternoon."

"Case got solved this morning, took the rest of the day off," he said simply. "What was that sigh about?"

"Nothing important," I replied.

"It's not that unmarked envelope?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? I'm a detective, I see things." he shrugged. "Let me see it."

"Nick-"

He reached over and grabbed it before I had a chance to stop him. If I didn't trust him so much, I would have been a little bit quicker.

I watched his face change from when he opened the letter to when he finished reading it. It wasn't a long note. None of them had been. They were only ever a few lines about the purity of Wesen and how sorry I would be if I didn't listen to them. At first, they churned my stomach, but after a while, they just became a nuisance. Whoever was giving them to me was a coward anyway; they never fulfilled their threats.

"Is this the first note that you've gotten like this," Nick asked after a moment.

"No," I admitted. "I've gotten a few of them. I just throw them out."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why worry you with them? Whoever sent them hasn't actually done anything besides send the notes. Not much we could do about it."

"I could have," he argued. "I'm a cop. I could've... I could've tried to do something."

There was a long pause. I watched Nick's eyes scan over the note over and over again. As if he was looking for the identity of the writer to just pop out at him. I sighed, snatching it from his hands. I did what I had done with the rest of those notes: threw it in the trash to never be looked at again.

"Maybe you should go," Nick muttered.

"What?"

"I think that you should go," he repeated.

"Go where?"

"I think it would be for the best if we separated," he explained.

I scoffed. "Bullshit!"

"(Y/n)..."

"Nick, I'm not going to leave because of a few vague threats-"

"And what happens when I get you killed?" he cut me off. I furrowed my eyebrows. "We've... We've seen what's happening with Rosalee and Monroe. Rosalee had a brick thrown through the shop window! And that's just because they're two different kinds of Wesen! Imagine what they would do to someone who's with a Grimm!"

I ran my hands over my face. I understood that he was scared but this all seemed crazy.

"I... I won't be the reason that you get hurt. I'm already putting you in enough danger because of the keys and the royals and all of the other crap that comes with this life. And maybe it's too late to protect you from that. Maybe they know too much about you already and that's my fault. But this... I could protect you fully from this if I let you go."

"Nick..." I stepped forward. "If... If you want me to go, then I will. But only if you want me to. I'm not going to leave you just because some idiots think that I should be with 'my own kind'. I... I love you, Nick. I'm not going to let someone chase me away from that."

He didn't respond for a moment. He just stared at me. As if he was testing me. Testing how long I would stand there without him saying whether or not he wanted me there.

"Tell me what you want-"

My words were cut short by him pulling me forward and kissing me. I froze for a moment before touching the sides of his face. He pulled back a few seconds later, not moving very far away from me. My arms moved around his neck.

"I don't want you to leave," he muttered to me.

"Good," I replied. "I didn't want to leave. Plus, I'm pretty sure that I'd be safer with you than on my own."

He leaned his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

"We'll be okay," I almost whispered. "No matter what."

He grinned at me as his eyes opened again.

"I don't care what danger I'm in when I'm with you," I promised. "I just care that I'm with you."

"I'm sorry. God, I'm an idiot."

"Sometimes." I nodded. I kissed his cheek. "But that's okay."

"Thanks," he mumbled sarcastically before pulling into a hug.

I closed my eyes, hiding my face in his shoulder.

"I love you too," he muttered. As if he was keeping it a secret from someone even though we were the only people in the house. "Didn't say it earlier."

I smiled to myself. I had never doubted that for a second.

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[mrspark7777777]

But shaz.. if Jimin himself is saying this, then what can we do ? 🥲 Isn't it acting like tkkrs ? If Tae said these things we'll take it as it is and will call tkkrs still shipping tkk as Tae told he's lonely or whether he can even love someone and in search of a woman right? But why are we not doing that because Jimin kinda debunked jkk and even him being queer. I'm not asking you to convince me or other jikookers, but it's common sense isn't it ?

Jikook is based on our opinions while these are words from Jimin himself..idk I think what Jimin saying it the truth and not our theory about jkk.

Tihihihihi. I'm only answering you coz u said my name and I thought u sounded cute. 🤭 My dear anon, Jimin also said this

Why are we conveniently forgetting this part? This is the issue I have with u guys getting affected by this. And this anon here put it best

Rowebowl still exists, J17 interview still exists, satellite Jikook still exist. GCF Tokyo, them 2 holding hands secretly behind Suga twice! and so many other things. So to me anon, for you to insist that Jimin has a girlfriend, is to insinuate that Jikook broke up. And for me I just DO NOT SEE IT. Are you sure happened AFTER MUSE. Enlisting together happened AFTER Muse. You really think their chemistry would still be as good if they were in good terms? Heck no.

And I dont care how strong you are. You don't have a love like Jikook's, break up then go about being good friends pretending like the last 10 years didn't happen. That shit just ain't possible anon, it not. JK who's debunked Jimin dating rumors in the past would not have been able to fake happiness in AYS. I'm telling you.

We will never be like the vermin because they ship tkk from nothing. Absolutely nothing. Every reason that makes them believe V and JK are a couple they've done with other members as well. Or in V's case, he's done with the WS. Not to mention JK gives them nothing. Its all just V. So no, we are not like them and never will be.

If Jimin saw a Jikook ask and said "get out of your imagination" trust me I would. I would be very confused and would have a million questions, but I would. So again, we are not the same. Jikook have never and will never debunk us. I'm telling you right now for free.

[roosterr]

guardian angel ✹ ch 3

note: this chapter gave me so many problems :') i have a love hate relationship with it. but anyway i hope yall enjoy :D

pairing: nikolai x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k

your callsign is 'kilo 0-9', no use of y/n, no description of reader

summary: you're gone and the gang is scrambling to get you back. nikolai has someone to sink his teeth into, and he's prepared to get his hands dirty if it means getting you back

warnings: nik's pov, canon-typical violence, a bit of light torture, english speakers attempt at russian, nik being a bit of a dick

ao3

[two] || [four]

nikolai must be losing his mind.

"you lost the sergeant?"

he has to be, he refused to believe that you were actually gone. alex's words were still ringing in his ears, the stabbing pain in his heart when he heard through the radio fresh in his memory.

you promised you'd come back to him.

he curses – the higher powers, alex, even himself for letting this happen. he drags an incredibly stressed hand through his hair, thoughts running a mile a minute thinking about where you could be, what could be happening to you. it's been a long time, longer than he can remember, since he's had someone to care about; the two of you may not have known each other for that long, but being faced with the prospect of you not coming back, he feels a genuine twinge of fear in his chest.

"i tried to follow, but the gps signal went cold and i couldn't pick it back up," alex explains with his head in his hands from where he sits at the table. "i should've intervened, i should've done something."

"it's a little late for that, no?" nikolai seethes, shooting daggers into the back of alex's head from behind his sunglasses.

"i know," he's clearly wracked by the guilt, but nik can't find the means to care, the miserable tone of alex's voice only serving to aggravate him further, "i fucked up, i'm sorry."

nikolai tuts, stepping closer to where he sits. "why are you apologising to me? 0-9 is the one missing, not me." his voice drips with venom as he drops a hand onto alex's shoulder, roughly twisting him so they can glare at each other head on.

"enough!" farah’s voice breaks them apart, as she enters the room and comes to stand across the table from them, "arguing will not fix this. we don't have time to fight amongst ourselves." she fixes them both with a stony expression, but her uneasiness bleeds through the cracks.

"i'm sorry, farah." alex sighs, and despite not being able to see his face anymore, nik can tell he’s giving her a look comparable to a kicked puppy.

she shakes her head. "i had hoped 0-9 would have more sense than this," she says. her words ignite a new wave of red hot anger within nik, and he’s about to lay into her until she continues, "but that being said, i don't believe they would put themselves at risk like this for no reason."

nik pauses, his expression relaxing. "you think something else is going on?"

"i do." farah nods, crossing her arms over her chest with a serious look on her face.

"so, what's our move, commander?" alex stands up from his seat, making his way around the table to stand next to her.

"malika has the man you captured – the original buyer – in the interrogation room." she says, looking between the two of them, "we may be able to get something out of him."

"i can make him talk." nik growls, already stalking towards the door. as far as he's concerned, it's not a matter of if they can get him to talk, but when.

farah grabs his arm as he brushes past her, "nikolai–"

"i will not take no for an answer this time, commander." his had a dangerous tone, and his face a dark expression under his aviators when he looks at her.

he and the commander hold their stares for a tense moment, neither willing to back down. farah sighs, "...very well. but please, try not to kill him."

"of course." he replies, though it's not entirely true, he has no intention of killing him until he's sure they've gotten everything they can out of him.

"nikolai," farah holds him still as he moves to walk away, as if sensing unease. "we will find them." she tells him, a determined sound to her voice. nikolai huffs, a small lopsided smile pulling at his lips.

"i will not rest until we do."

✹✹✹

the heavy lock clicks as malika turns the key, pushing the door open and watching nik from the corner of her eye as he passes her. the room is bare apart from a table, covered by a cloth, and a single chair in the centre, where their prisoner sits with his hands and feet tied securely to the wooden frame. his head hangs, and nik can clearly see his body shaking with a pathetic kind of fear.

at the clunk of the door shutting and locking again, the prisoner raises his head, his expression hardening as he looks up at nikolai – an attempt to seem tougher than he is, which is, honestly, easier to read than a wide open book. for a moment or two, he simply leans back against the wall with his arms crossed, fixing the prisoner with a glare so cold it could freeze him.

"your name?" nik finally breaks the silence, causing the prisoner to startle with they way his voice cuts through the air. he flinches slightly and tries to disguise it by shifting in his seat, the wooden chair creaking under his weight.

"i– i'm not telling you anything." he stutters, the quake in his shoulders still very much apparent.

nik hums with a disarming thoughtfulness. he was scared, that much was obvious – no matter how desperately he tried to hide it – so perhaps it would be easier to break him than he'd thought.

"it's not you i'm interested in, you're simply collateral damage." he says, pushing off the wall and stepping closer to the chair. he leans back as nik approaches, as far as his restraints would allow.

the prisoner pauses to think, seemingly having some sort of internal battle before responding. "...sergei."

"sergei," nik gives him a smile that doesn't come close to meeting his eyes, "tell me about the man you were meeting with."

"you– you're going to kill me, right?" sergei looks up at him, his expression more apprehensive than before. nik still has the false, almost mocking, smile on his face as he stares back down at his prisoner.

"if you tell me what i want to know, i will reward you with letting you keep your life."

"...you'll just kill me anyway." sergei mutters, avoiding nik's intense gaze.

"die now, or die later." nik leans down, unfolding his arms and leaning one on the armrest of the chair, invading sergei's personal space to make him squirm. "your choice."

"e– even if you let me go, there's no way baranov will let me live after–" sergei freezes, clamping his jaw shut with a distressed look on his face, and nik smiles. though tempting, he resists the urge to laugh at the obvious panic emanating from him.

"ah, now we're getting somewhere, sergei." he says, leaning back again with an amused expression. "so tell me, this baranov, where would he be now?"

sergei sputters for a moment, "i'm not– i– i won't talk." he finally hisses, the mirth in his voice no match for the desperation in his eyes.

"дружище, you already have. you think this will help you? would your comrades protect you the same way?" nik leans in closer again, a sneer on his lips, "ребёнок, i apologise."

"…what?"

"i apologise," nik repeats, the faux sympathy absent from his voice and replaced by a seething venom. "i let you think you have a choice."

without warning, he pulls back his arm and delivers a fierce and satisfying slap to sergei's face. his head whips to the side, drawing a pained grunt from him as he reels from the blow.

"fu–uck you." he spits, rolling his neck grimacing at the feeling of blood falling down his face from the fresh cut on his cheek. "you'll never find them or your soldier."

"is that so?" nik scoffs, dry and clipped as his patience wears thin. he stands back up straight, looking down his nose at sergei with a disdainful glare. "then it's also true that your little friends will never find you – though i doubt they would even look."

"...fuck you."

"they allowed you to be captured so easily – it's like i said earlier, you are simply collateral damage."

"shut the hell up!" sergei yells, lurching forward in his restraints and baring his teeth, "your moron fucking foreigner is probably missing their head by now! i bet they died wondering why you didn't save them."

the mention of you has nik seeing red, his blood practically boiling under his skin as he watches sergei insult you. it was a rookie mistake to let him get under his skin like this, but he would be damned before he let someone disrespect your name – especially in front of him.

nik lifts his boot to sergei's chest, effectively shutting him up for the moment, and with all the anger building inside him he shoves his body backwards, toppling the chair over and sergei along with it. his head makes a sickening thud when he hits the stone floor, the choked whine that leaves his throat the only indicator that he was still conscious.

nikolai smiles again, a little more genuinely this time, and steps around to stand at his side. he crouches, watching the dazed look in sergei's eyes melt into fear, and plants his boot firmly on his sternum.

"i will give you one. last. chance." nik growls, leaning more and more pressure onto his chest with every word, "tell me where my sergeant is, or i will make you beg for death."

"g– go f–uck yourself…" sergei coughs out, pulling his lips into a faint, defiant smirk.

"then we'll do this the hard way." nik sneers.

he stands, making sure to put the most weight on the foot pinning sergei, and makes his way over to the table in the corner. lifting the cloth covering it, he glances at the various tools and weapons laying in front of him. he considers all the ways he could make his prisoner bleed, slowly claw the answers he needs out of him and make him pay for how he spoke about you.

after some deliberation, nik settles on a rusty pair of long-nose pliers, replacing the cloth over the table as he turns back around to where sergei still lays helpless on the floor.

a moment passes, serving to make him even more uneasy in the silence, before nik stalks back to the middle of the room. he leans over the chair, his furious gaze piercing through sergei, and pulls it up by the armrests.

sergei's head drops forward, and he lets out another pained groan, but nik ignores his discomfort and roughly yanks his head up with a hand on his jaw. he squeezes tightly, and as sergei opens his mouth to whine again, he clamps the pliers firmly around one of his teeth.

sergei's eyes fly open at the sensation, feebly trying to shake his head in nikolai's grip. "wai– no, no no– i'll talk, i'll talk!" he sputters around the pliers, struggling in his restraints as he attempts to lean away from nik.

"then speak." he gives the pliers a sharp tug, stopping sergei's writhing and drawing another pathetic whimper from him.

"the– the meeting– it was a setup," he begins. nik lets go of his tooth and moves his hand to his throat, pulling back slightly and gesturing for him to continue. "they screwed us over – a while ago, back in russia – so baranov set the meeting up as a trap…"

a cold sense of dread settles over nik; the same feeling that had pierced his heart when alex first broke the news of your disappearance. there had been a spark of hope when farah had allowed him to question sergei, but that had been quickly snuffed out by what he'd pried out of sergei.

the hand around his neck subconsciously tightens as he processes sergei's confession. not only had they known who you were from the very beginning, but the intel you'd gathered and going undercover to catch them out – it had all been a part of their plan.

sergei lets out a choked cough, "i– i just work for him– i was just following orders, i swear!" he gasps, desperately trying to draw in a breath through nikolai's iron grip.

with a sharp click of his tongue, he releases sergei's throat, wiping his bloody hand on his shirt and giving his head a shove for good measure as he turns away. sergei's pleas and begging are white noise to nik as he throws the pliers on the table and knocks on the door for malika to let him out.

he'd have time to take his anger out later; for now though, his focus is solely on finding you and, most importantly, bringing you safely home to him.