#John could show up and be like yup

[tanglepelt]

Dc x dp idea 60

Vlad is the one who gets Danny help.

He has a realization that he became so fixated on Maddie he lost sight on everything else. Maybe he find Maddie and Jack experimenting on a ghost, maybe a plot to capture and cut open phantom. Something makes him see the light.

Regardless of what he is the one who realizes how dangerous Danny’s home life is. How at risk he is.

So vlad leaves an anonymous tip on the justice league helpline regarding a portal into a different dimension. The location fentonWorks in amity park Illinois.

It would be even better if amity had an info block out so it just didn’t exist online. Maybe when they respond either the GIW have phantom and are ready/doing experiments.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Just A Girl

Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: Y/N starts getting into interests other than hunting, but what happens when her brothers find out?

Author's Note: another Supernatural fic? Yup, my hyperfixation knows no bounds. Enjoy!

You were a daddy’s girl through-and-through. No question. Without a doubt.

Not that you had much choice in the matter. Your mother had died before you had even gotten the chance to form good memories of her, and your father, John Winchester, had taken you in as soon as he heard the news. So, that’s how you had grown up, looking up to your father and two big brothers. Needless to say, there was very little feminine influence in your life.

For the first many years, you had been fine with that. Overjoyed, even. You took on the role of tomboy with great ease, and you devoted all your energy to making the men in your life proud. You studied with Sam, trained with Dean, and compiled monster-killing information with John. 

But things didn’t–couldn’t–remain the same. The older you got, the harder you found it to relate to your brothers. Of course, you still enjoyed your training and the occasional hunt–they only allowed you to go on the “safest” ones–but you found yourself pulling away from your family more and more mentally, although you wouldn’t allow your inner-alienation to show to your brothers. You didn’t have to worry about hiding it from your father, since he was barely around. 

When Sam left for college, things only got worse. Dean doubled-down on your training, convinced that now that Sam was gone, you needed to be able to fend for yourself. If he needed backup on a hunt, he couldn’t turn to Sam anymore. You didn’t mind the work, but the long hours of training and the few hours of anything else was beginning to wear on you, both physically and mentally. The older you got, the more you felt like you needed your own space, to explore your own interests. You couldn’t tell that to Dean, though, not after he lost Sam to his own interests. 

Your hesitance about training wasn’t the only thing that was changing for you. You were also beginning to notice how emotionally distant your family was. It hadn’t affected you as much as a little girl, because when you were little, displays of affection from the men who raised you had been more common. But now that you were older, they seemed to think that you had outgrown such things. You could tell that you were being expected to “grow up”, maybe even “man up”, something you most certainly could not do.

But it was more than that. When you were little, all you ever wanted was to be like your family. You wanted to be strong like dad, protective like Dean, and smart like Sam. But you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t look up to them like heroes, because you had long outgrown that notion. Of course, you still looked up to them in some aspects, but it was different now. Dad was always gone, Dean wouldn’t know how to deal with feelings if they danced around blowing trumpets in front of him, and Sam…well, Sam had left. Not that you blamed him, of course, he had his own life that he wanted to live. But it was hard to look up to something that you never saw.

All that to say, this wasn’t exactly an ideal environment for a teenage girl. You were far too reserved to take out your feelings the way the rest of the men did–bottling them up and then letting them out by screaming at each other. You had times when you wanted to, of course–you had been disagreeing with them, especially John, more and more as you got older–but you found yourself more and more afraid of conflict as you matured. Before Sam had left, he and dad had been yelling at each other almost constantly, and it was pure torture on your anxiety. You hated raised voices, you hated hurt feelings, you hated conflict of any kind really. Your brothers and father never backed down from a fight, be it physical or familial, but you couldn’t do that. You found yourself walking on eggshells, making sure not to even say–much less yell–anything that would set off an argument.

You were stuck at a sort of impasse–your desperate desire to please your family versus your personal inclinations to just be yourself. 

The only solution you had was to try and live both worlds; you trained with Dean whenever duty called, but afterwards you would retreat to your room, letting him work on whatever hunt he was preoccupied with, and you explored your own world.

You got into books, some tv shows the men in your life wouldn’t be caught dead watching (and would certainly make fun of you for watching), you tried out makeup and let your hair grow longer (you had always cut it short to keep it out of the way during training or hunting). You found that the more “feminine” things that you would’ve scoffed at a few years ago were suddenly looking much more interesting. You used one of those scammed credit cards Dean gave you to buy some ballet shoes, which you hid in your duffel under all your other belongings unless Dean and dad were on a hunt, at which time you would pull them out and teach yourself using some books you’d found. 

It took you a long time to get over your embarrassment at wanting to try “girly” things out, but once you did you never looked back. You still played the part that dad and Dean expected, the young tomboy following in the men’s footsteps, but when you were alone, you didn’t see any harm in trying out some hobbies that felt more like you.

Like right now, for example. Dad was missing, Sam was finally back, and he and Dean were off hunting some monster. You enjoyed your isolation by first finishing off a tv show that they would’ve hated, then by reading some more of a new book you had gotten that they would’ve scoffed at. After that, it was time to pull out the ballet shoes and practice that new move that you couldn’t quite perfect. 

You were so concentrated on figuring out the move, that you hadn’t noticed that you’d been practicing for hours, or that it was getting dark outside. You were also so intent on the music that you’d downloaded to go along with your dancing, that you didn’t hear the Impala pull up to the front of the motel room. In fact, you were so engrossed, that you completed the entire move–perfect for the first time!--and you were jumping around in excitement when you finally saw them. Your brothers. Standing at the door, mouths dropped open in shock, confusion contorting their features.

You froze on the spot, unable to move. You tried to speak, but no words would make it past your dry throat. You snatched up your phone and quickly killed the music, but there was no covering up the shoes you were wearing, and certainly no erasing the boys’ memory of what they’d seen. 

The three of you stood in silence for several moments, before Sam finally got the words–or perhaps the guts–to speak.

“What was that?”

You answer was immediate.

“Nothing.”

“What are those?” Dean was staring down at your pastel-pink ballet shoes, his mouth still hanging open–which would have been comical if your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears.

“Nothing, just-” your lip started to quiver, and you were so shocked and appalled by this that you bit it so hard, blood started to dribble down your chin. Winchesters did not cry. “Just forget about it.”

“Jeez, Y/N,” Sam exclaimed, snatching up a towel and wiping the blood off of your mouth. As soon as he was done, you pulled away and sat on your bed, removing your ballet shoes as quickly as possible and depositing them back in their spot–the bottom of your duffel. 

There was silence again for several seconds, but this time it was Dean who broke it.

“So…we’re not gonna talk about that?”

“Talk about what?” you muttered, your eyes downcast as you shifted on your feet.

Both brothers scoffed in unison.

“C’mon Y/N,” Sam insisted, putting his giant hand on your shoulder, “why didn’t you tell us you were into ballet?”

“And pretty darn good at it too,” Dean chimed in, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

You stared at them, confused.

“You’re not…mad?”

“Mad?” Dean frowned, “I don’t know why you think we’re mad, I’m just confused. I mean you never seemed into…this kinda thing.”

“I…wasn’t,” you picked at your fingers, trying to find ways to ease the awkwardness of the conversation. “But lately…I don’t know, I just wanted to try it out.”

“Dancing?”

“Not just ballet, I guess. Just…girl stuff,” you looked up, trying to gauge your brothers’ reactions. 

Sam just shrugged, “Ok.”

You were shocked.

“Ok? Just, ok?”

Dean smirked, “You may be a bit of a tomboy, but we haven’t forgotten that you’re a girl, baby.”

"Yeah, but," you sighed, "you don't think this stuff is stupid?"

"Well, you're not exactly gonna find me in those shoes," Dean shrugged, "But you do you, kid."

A relieved smile broke out on your face.

“You’re seriously ok with this?” Dean laughed, “Tell you what. I’ll be one hundred percent ok with this, on three conditions.

Both you and Sam frowned.

“What are they?” you questioned.

“Ok, one: never ask me to watch a chick flick with you.”

You giggled, relieved, “Ok.”

“Two: never play Taylor Swift in Baby. Never. I don’t care if I'm dead, that does not happen, understand?”

You giggled harder, “Ok, ok.”

Dean was frowning now, “Hey now, no giggling, I’m serious!” he snatched you up and threw you onto his bed, leaning over you and poking your sides, “This is a very serious conversation N/N, and I-” Dean dodged your desperate attempt to kick him away, smirking as you squealed under his ticklish assault. “Hey, that wasn’t nice. I can’t have this serious conversation with you giggling like that!” He poked at your ribs, laughing as you struggled.

“Wha-hat’s number three-hee?” you squealed, still trying and failing to get away from him.

“Oh yeah!” Dean suddenly pulled his hands away, once again regaining his serious composure. “I want front row tickets when you’re on Dancing with the Stars.”

You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm, “Dean, it’s just a hobby, I’m not gonna get famous for it.” “Hey now, you don’t know that, anything is possible. Now do we have a deal or not?”

You giggled, sitting up and wrapping your arms around your big brother.

“Deal.”

[raina-at]

Intimidation

“Dad! What did you do!” Rosie storms into the sitting room, banging the front door to the flat shut behind her.

John looks up from his kindle, only mildly curious. Their daughter has his temper and Sherlock’s flair for histrionics, and he’s discovered over the years that he can defuse her most easily when he himself remains calm for as long as possible.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you sweetheart me, you know exactly what you did,” she grates out between clenched teeth, sitting down in Sherlock’s chair. 

John sets down his kindle and looks at Rosie, who’s mirroring Sherlock’s ‘interrogating a recalcitrant client’ pose perfectly, if probably unconsciously. “A few context clues might be helpful.”

Rosie gives him another glare, then says, seemingly making an effort to calm down, “Mark, dad. What did you do to Mark?”

“I did absolutely nothing to Mark,” John says, smoothing his features into the ‘nothing to see here, Inspector’ expression he’s perfected after over 20 years of being an accomplice to petty crimes and the occasional B+E. 

“He said you showed him your gun!”

“Well, yes, we were having a friendly conversation after dinner, when you and Paps were doing the dishes. He was curious about my military service, so I showed him my medals. If my gun was accidentally in the same box, well, that’s hardly my fault,” John answers, his tone even and his countenance a study of innocence. This isn’t remotely his first interrogation, and if NSY’s finest couldn’t crack him, his eighteen-year-old daughter won’t either.

“He said you “had a look on” when you showed it to him,” Rosie states, indicating the quotes with her fingers, not breaking eye contact.

John wishes that Sherlock could witness this. He would be so proud of Rosie’s interrogation technique. 

Not that it has any effect on John, who learned the hard way how to keep secrets—birthday gifts and wedding rings, mostly— from Sherlock Holmes. “I don’t even know what that means, love. What kind of look?”

“He said he never knew a dad in a fluffy jumper could look this intimidating,” Rosie says, giving him a small smile, apparently finally seeing the funny side of this.

“Really? What else did he say?” John asks, curiously flattered that he managed to scare the living daylights out of Rosie’s boyfriend just by looking at him. He never even touched the gun. 

“He said he had the distinct impression that he wouldn’t survive if he ever hurt me,” Rosie says, and John can hear her softening tone as her anger melts. 

John shrugs. “If that is the impression he got from our friendly talk, I would not try too hard to disabuse him of the notion.”

Rosie looks sceptical, but John leans forward and takes her hand. “Look at it this way, love. He’s still here. He knows the price he has to pay if he hurts you, and he’s still here.”

Rosie finally smiles, and John knows she’s no longer angry. “Okay. All right. You win. Did you and Paps plan this, by the way?”

“No. Why?”

“Because when he helped Paps take out the bins, Paps gave him a long academic lecture about how he knows several ways to dispose of a corpse so it would never be found.”

John laughs. “Sounds like him, all right.”

Rosie narrows his eyes at him. “You two aren’t actually planning on murdering my boyfriend?”

John smiles back mildly. “Well, love, that depends entirely on him, doesn’t it?” His tone is quiet, but he knows his eyes are like flint. He likes Mark, he really does. But if he hurts Rosie he’s dead. It’s as simple as that. 

“Whoa, dad,” Rosie says, grinning at him. “Now I know what Mark meant. You’re scary!”

“Thank you, love,” he says, getting up from his chair, cursing his bad knees. “Are you staying in for tea?”

Rosie nods, sprawling in Sherlock’s chair. “Yup. Is Paps coming home tonight?”

“He wanted to catch the sleeper, but apparently there’s some loose ends so he’s staying another night in Edinburgh.”

Rosie glances at the telly, then back at John. “You know what that means, right? Bond night!”

“I’m already making the popcorn,” John says. He empties the small corn kernels into the pot they always use for popping, then turns to Rosie. “One more thing.”

Rosie makes an inquiring noise as she fiddles with the remote to start the stream. “What?”

“Did Mark by any chance mention who scared him more? Sherlock, or me?”

Rosie grins. “Oh, you. Definitely you. He said he had the impression that Paps might just ruin his life, whereas you would just straight up kill him, no questions asked.”

John feels a bit smug that he scared Rosie’s boyfriend more than Sherlock. Of course, Mark is completely off base. John is scary, but Sherlock enraged is terrifying. “He’s wrong, you know,” John says, giving the popcorn pot a little shake. 

“Oh, I know,” Rosie says, getting them each a beer out of the fridge. “I told him Paps would ruin his life first and then kill him.”

“And he’s still here? I like this boy.”

“You’re deeply disturbed, you know that?”

John shrugs. “Like that’s news to anyone.” He empties the now finished, hot and buttery popcorn into a bowl and nods at his daughter. “Shall we?”

Rosie kisses his cheek and whispers, “You’re both crazy.”

John smiles. “You’re welcome, love. Now, shall we start with Casino Royale like always?”

“Like you even need to ask.”

------

Periodic reminder that I'm collecting all of these here on AO3.

Tags under the cut as always (if they work...). Please let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @jrow @keirgreeneyes @meetinginsamarra @peanitbear @weeesi @salmonsown @jolieblack @helloliriels @lisbeth-kk @friday411 @givemesherbet-blog-blog

[kaywinchester]

Charms

summary: through the years — the Winchester’s little sister’s good luck charm, ends up being a bit of a tradition.

Word Count: 4,214

Winchester boys x sister!reader

Warnings: blood, death, angst, sorry about the italics, idk what I'm doing??

The youngest Winchester, y/n, was welcomed into the family a little bit later than expected. Y/n was 3 when her mom died, and had no one else to go to but her father and two brothers. It was a few years after John had died too, when Dean got a call from one of John’s old phones in the glove compartment. And there she’s was on the other line.

It had been a few months after y/n had been living with the boys. It was tricky for everyone to adjust. Sam and Dean would do anything for her at the drop of a hat, but they all found it difficult to connect at first. Y/n was struggling to feel like a part of the family. She had lost the only adults she knew about in her short life, her trust had been taken away from everything it felt like. Sam and Dean had treated her nothing but kind since the day they found her, and deep down she knew they wouldn’t hurt her, but time would tell.

It was late at night, Dean couldn’t sleep. Going to reach for his headphones, they weren’t in the side table drawer where he normally puts them. He arose, flipping on the desk lamp across the room, starting to look for them quietly, when he came across a box. The box where he always kept special things he couldn’t lose. Photographs of him and Sammy as kids, their mother, different trinkets that held a memory. Dean flipped through a few photos, admiring them sadly under the light of his lamp. Looking down into the box he saw a glaring piece of silver at the bottom. Picking it up, he gazed at the charm bracelet that belonged to his mother. The charms shined in the light as they swayed side to side.

Sam approached the desk in the motel, about to speak as he sees him, but stops. “Hey, uhh. You busy?” He asked stepping closer.

“No, just couldn’t really sleep” Dean says as he packs the things back in the box.

“What’s this, is this mom’s?” Sam asked, sliding the bracelet over to his grasp.

“Yup.”

~

It was y/n’s 10th birthday and it had been a rough year. Another new school, y/n wasn’t staying with Bobby as much anymore since she was older and could stand the long car rides with Sam & Dean. Girls were starting to be mean at school, y/n felt alone most of the time, because she was left alone. In school, and back at the motels they stayed at. The boys felt for her, being so young, constantly exposed to the childhood they had. They didn’t expect that they would ever being doing what they were doing, but they wouldn’t give up on trying to give their little sister the life she needed.

The brothers made it home from finishing up a hunt just in time for y/n’s birthday. They had brought home her favorite food, and desserts. It wasn’t much, but they wanted to show her some appreciation for all of her patience. After finishing up dinner, Sam started to clean up the table. “Alright, looks like it is almost your bedtime.”

“Really? Even on my birthday?” Y/n playfully pouted.

“Your beauty sleep is more important!” Sam smiled back. “Especially being a weeknight. But we will pick up the festivities this weekend, because we’re leaving town!” Sam blurted out without thinking about how that sounded.

Dean looked at him and back at y/n, knowing her reaction wouldn’t be excited. Sam realized he had messed up by saying it so soon, they had meant to break it to her the next day, after her birthday.

“You mean, I have to leave this school, and go to another one?!” She sighed in disappointment.

“Well, yeah. But… we can go wherever you’d like to, on the way to—“

“No, you both said we’d be here for a while.”

“Y/n—“

“Just stop!" The room fell silent. "I know this is what you guys do, but I hate having to move again and again."

"Look, I know you do. It isn't fun for us either, but that's how we.."

"Get our job done, I know Sam." y/n finished his sentence, looking down at her hands.

"What's wrong, y/n/n?" Sam asked, studying her face.

"I just told you." her voice got more quiet. "You sure? You just... look like somethings on your mind." Sam stated. There was a long pause, y/n shuffled around and then looked up at her brothers. They both had that look on their face like they were waiting for her to let out whatever she was thinking.

"How do you guys always know!!?" She threw her arms down in frustration. Trying to stay mad but also wanting to break down from all of the inner turmoil. The boys both half smiled, Sam sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, motioning for y/n to sit down.

"It just gets scary sometimes..... not knowing when you're gonna come back. Boring too. I just don't want you to forget about me." y/n let out a deep breath.

"Sweetheart, you know we'd never forget about you. We look forward to coming back to you after every job." Sam reassured. Y/n let out a half smile, hearing the same line before. "I know."

It was times like these where Dean would always think of his mother. Even though y/n wasn't his mothers daughter, he knew if she were still around, she'd know exactly what to say in moments like these. The two boys were almost left with a loss of words until Dean thought of the perfect thing. He stood up and went outside to the car, rummaging through the trunk. He came back inside with a box in his hands. Going through it, he picked up Mary's bracelet and sat down next to y/n.

"This was... our mom's. I think she would have wanted you to have it." Dean hooked the charm bracelet around y/n's wrist. It felt a little odd to her, knowing Mary was not her real mom.

"Are you sure? I mean, she..." y/n tried not to come off sounding rude, but Dean knew what she was trying to say.

"I know, but trust me. We hung onto it for a reason. All of these charms mean something special, and as long as you have this with you... you will always be protected. And you will always, be apart of this family." Dean held her wrist, emphasizing it's importance. Y/n rotated her wrist, admiring all of the charms.

She smiled bigger, looking up at them. "Thank you."

Dean said nothing, instead bringing his sister in for a hug. Sam raised his eyebrows, blinking away his watery eyes from the moment he just witnessed. Running his hands over his face, he sat down, and embrace his siblings into one.

~

It was y/n's first official hunt. She had just turned 14, and had proven to her brothers that she could take care of herself... as long as she stayed right by their sides. Y/n had been studying, not just in school. Every chance she got, she was prying information from Sam or Dean about hunting. Practicing how to use different forms of defense, and being on the look out for anything. She now had finally gotten herself into the real deal.

The three of them walked through an abandoned farm property, looking for any hidden rooms, since the rest of the house was suspiciously clear. "We should go check the barn out back." Y/n whispered. "Okay, but for now, you stay here." Dean whispered back.

"Why? there's nothing here. We've looked everywhere and there is no nest." y/n stated.

"Well, that's what they want you to think, but it wasn't at the last house so it's gotta be here."

"Shhh!" Sam spat. Hearing a crash from somewhere in the house.

Everyone froze, being as still and quiet as they could, trying to listen for any noises. It was silent, until a floorboard creaked from behind Dean. He jumped around, but before he could strike, everyone was knocked unconscious. None of them got a chance to see what hit them as it was too dark.

Y/n woke up in a cold and dark room. The floor was cement, and the walls were stone, it was likely a basement room. Shortly after coming to, she heard the ceiling above her creak and the walls too. Footsteps thudded on the floor outside of the room she was in, and she heard the ceiling creak once more. Y/n panicked, and resumed her position on the floor where she woke up, pretending to still be knocked out.

The door flung open, she squinted her eyes the most she could while trying to look asleep. A dark figure walked over to her, she could see another figure behind him, holding the door open. She was suddenly lifted off the floor, her body limp and hanging in the grip of whoever was holding her.

"Nope, still out. Let's give it another hour." A deep voice spoke. They let go of y/n's body, letting it thud back to the floor. The two figures left. Y/n sat up slowly, feeling the ache from being thrown onto cement. 'A ladder?' She thought, seeing one against the wall outside the door. One set of footsteps walked away, another set sounded like they were climbing the ladder, as the wall creaked again.

Y/n listened closely to the creaks and heard the ceiling again, 'a trapdoor!' It had to be. It sounded like it was just above the door to the room she was in. After listening for a while, it grew quiet again. Y/n got up and tried opening the door, no luck. It was locked. Y/n knew she had to alert her brothers somehow, wherever they were. For all she knew, they could be in another locked room themselves.

Sam and Dean both woke up in the barn that was behind the house. Dean sat up abruptly in the hay, looking around for y/n once he spotted Sam. "Y/N!!"

"She's gotta be somewhere in that house. C'mon!" Sam hurried.

The two men walked through out the house again, pacing every room back and forth, looking for anything they could have missed. "Dude, I can't find any levers, or buttons... no hidden doors. Fuckin squat!" Dean was starting to get worried and pissed, not knowing how long they were out and how long y/n had been separated.

Sam, stepped on something uneven. Raising his foot, he looked at the dark floor and saw a bit of silver shining in the moonlight. He picked up the object, which happened to be y/n's charm bracelet.

Dean looked at Sam holding up the charms, stunned to say the least. "That ain't good, we need to find her, quick." Dean started, rushing past Sam, ready to look wherever he had to.

"Wait! Dean look...." Sam kneeled down, taking in the details of the floor they had completely missed. They had been walking all over it this whole time. "Dean, it's a trap door!"

They both kneeled down and found a flat switched embedded in one of the floorboards. Sam pressed the switch, a square in the floor creaked open, revealing a hidden basement. "Let's go."

Sam and Dean came across a long hallway, that went in two directions. Both sides of the walls had doors to other rooms. "She's gotta be down here." Sam whispered.

"That probably means the nest is also down here." Dean huffed with worry.

The two split up to start checking the rooms. Dean started with the door next to the ladder that led them down there. He busted it open to find y/n sitting on the floor. "Y/N! Thank god, are you okay?" Dean sighed in relief.

"I'm fine.... did you find my clue?" she asked hopefully.

"Your clue??"

"Yeah, I slid my charm bracelet through the floor."

"You did that? How... what..... I'd love to hear how you came up with that later, because I think you led us right to the vamp nest." Dean smiled proudly.

~

It had been 5 long days since y/n went missing. Of course, Sam and Dean hadn't stopped for anything until they found her. They had not slept, barely ate, there was no breaks, no stopping. They had grown tired after searching almost every lead they had.

The two sat at the table in their motel room in silence, too irritated and exhausted to say anything unless it was important. "I'll be back." Dean stood up, grabbing his jacket.

"Where ya going?" Sam asked.

"To look for y/n".

Sam sighed. Dean always blamed himself if Sam or y/n were in trouble. No matter the situation.

Dean pulled up to the school where the first kid went missing. Putting the car in park, he got out and walked around the campus, trying his best not to look suspicious. School was still in session despite the mysterious disappearances, which made it hard to investigate. Y/n was a big help in the case, being able to blend in as a student, until she went missing too. Sam and Dean had checked all the surrounding places that had a connection, yet, nothing.

Dean circled the courtyard, eyeing the buildings, trying to think of literally anything, when he remembered... The old building behind the school. The one that wasn't in use anymore, they were planning to knock it down soon. It made so much sense now, they were hiding in plain sight. He picked up his phone to dial Sam, letting him know to meet him over there as he picked up the pace on his way over to the building.

Dean scanned the area around him, making sure no one was looking before approaching the front steps. The front doors were boarded shut, he tried to make them give but had no luck. He circled the building to the back door when he noticed a shine catching his eye.

Y/n's charm bracelet sat in the dirt and gravel near the back door. He picked it up with care, and put it in his pocket. Dean was able to get in the building, it was full of mold and broken down old school supplies. He walked down endless hallways, looking through every door until he found y/n. Handcuffed to an old radiator on the ground. Rushing over, he shook her gently, trying to wake her up.

"Dean!" Sam called out from a distance. He stood up and poked his head around the hallway. "Hey! Did you find her?" Sam asked frantically.

"Yeah, I got her. Help me find some of the other kids." He said as he rushed back to y/n. Her head and arms had dried up blood all over them, and looked as if she was dragged through dirt.

"Y/n, c'mon sweetheart, wake up." she slowly nodded, with fluttering eyes, becoming more alert once she saw Dean.

"oh my god, Dean!" She spoke softly, reaching out for him but was stopped by the cuffs. "One sec, I got it." He assured.

Once she was free, she gently wrapped her arms around him. "You found me.... I was worried you wouldn't." Her eyes welled with tears.

Dean held her shoulders and reached into his pocket. "Baby, I will always find you." He said as he hooked her bracelet back onto her wrist. She sniffled a heartwarming smile back at him.

~

Sam and Dean stood in front of y/n, and also y/n. The 3 of them were hunting a shifter, and it had taken y/n's form. Now it was down to which y/n was the real y/n.

"Guys. c'mon it's me! Trust me." y/n whined.

"Stop! No, I'm me. I know it's hard to tell right now but it's really me!" y/n also whined.

"Here...." y/n slowly kneeled down and placed her gun on the ground. The other y/n still clutched her gun tightly. A determined look set in her eyes.

"I wouldn't hurt you guys. You know that." she stood up slowly without the weapon.

Sam and Dean gazed between the two versions of their sister. "I'm not sure you can keep that promise." Sam spat. Y/n lunged at Sam as he pulled the trigger. She fell to the ground, all 3 of them stood frozen for a second before seeing the body start to melt. They all let out a heavy breath.

"Thank you, for not shooting me." y/n snickered, lowering her gun. "How'd you know?"

Sam reached for her wrist. "Guess it wasn't able to replicate your good luck charm." He smiled at the charms on her bracelet.

~

It happened so fast. None of them saw the last one that hid behind the corner. A shot rang out, the bullet snuck past Sam who held his gun up. He fired his weapon, taking out the last guy. He let out a greedy breath, looking over at Dean who gave him the same relieved look.

"Nice one, brother." He patted his shoulder. "You too y/n." Dean and Sam looked behind them, only to jump when they saw y/n clutching her stomach hunched over.

"Y/n!? You okay? Lemme see...... umm, okay c'mon. We gotta go." Dean said frantically after seeing all the blood soaking through her shirt. He lifted her up, carrying her to the car and placing her in the backseat.

"Hang on, y/n." Dean kept calling out from the drivers seat, while Sam reached back, holding onto what ever grip she had on him.

"Sammy..... I can't...." Y/n sounded breathy. Holding her palm over her wound.

"Yes you can, just hold on a little longer for me, okay?" Sam hoped his words would help motivate his sister to find strength. They couldn't lose her, not like this.

Dean peeled into the emergency room lot, barely parking the car. The two men jumped out of the car, rushing to the backseat. When they opened the door, y/n was slumped over on her side, unresponsive.

"Y/n, c'mon wake up, look at me." Dean patted her face, holding her in his arms. Nothing.

As they carried her through the doors, it felt like a blank blur of people bombarding them, saying words. Dean froze as Sam called out for help, telling the nurses what happened. Then he felt people tugging y/n away from him. As they started to wheel her back, Dean grasped her hand.

"Sir, please let go, we need to get her medical attention."

Normally, he would've fought to stay with her, but he froze again. Letting go of her hand which then flopped to the side of her.

Sam and Dean waited an excruciatingly long 3 hours before someone came asking for them. A doctor came out and ushered them through the doors.

"Is she okay? What's the deal?" Dean asked impatiently. All the doctor said was 'come with me' so they assumed he was taking them to her. He remained quiet and led them down the hall, motioning them to step into a room. Once they both saw it was an office, they expected the worst.

"Please, have a seat."

"Doc, not trying to be rude, but I've been sitting for 3 hours. I'd rather not wait any longer. How's our sister?" Dean said straight to the point.

The doctor took a deep breath, folding his hands. "Y/n suffered some really bad hemorrhaging from the bullet wound. Once we removed the bullet, we couldn't stop the bleeding...... she stopped breathing a little while before that."

"I'm sorry, but she didn't make it."

Neither of the boys took it well, especially Dean. He refused to believe anything after that, he kept saying 'no' to everything the doctor said.

"Um... is there any way we could still see her? y'know, say our goodbyes." Sam hesitantly glanced at Dean.

"Yes, of course. Give us some time to prepare her. In the meantime, I would start discussing arrangements for-"

As soon as Dean heard that, he turned around and walked out.

Sam stayed and waited until he was able to see y/n. The nurse left to give him his privacy. As soon as he saw her, he broke. Slowly walking over to the bed with tears blurring his vision, he kneeled down and picked up her frail hand. He cringed at the fact that it was still warm, but that warmth was fading. Sam eyed her charm bracelet that was still on. He pinched the charms between his fingers, rotating it around.

"I'm sorry..... I'm sorry we couldn't...." Sam trailed off. Wiping away his tears, he looked at his sister for a while. Taking in her features, trying to permanently memorize what she looked like when she smiled, laughed, looked at her brothers with her big y/e/c eyes.

"I love you."

~

Dean had stormed out of the hospital. He felt like raging against all evil that had ever existed, so upset he could flip a car. He had always imagined he'd go like this, but not his little sister. Only 20 years old, and it was all taken away from her, from him, from them. Dean didn't know what to do or where to go, so much was going through his mind. He opened baby's driver door and sat inside, letting the silence consume the vehicle for a few moments before speaking up.

"Cas..... we could really use you right now."

.....

"Y/n is dead. And... she shouldn't be. I know it's a lot to ask, but this is y/n we're talking about."

.....

"Cas...?" Dean sat a while longer, waiting, waiting for Cas, or a sign. Anything.

"Please, Cas. I'll do whatever I have to, I'll sell my soul, I'll make a trade. I don't know, anything."

Still, nothing. No response. Nothing.

Sam walked outside to the car since Dean wasn't answering the phone. He saw him sitting in the car and slowly opened the passenger door, getting in next to him.

Neither of them said anything at first.

"Uh, she's in there, whenever you're ready." Sam tried to hide his sniffles. Dean stayed quiet.

"This isn't the end." He finally spoke up.

"What?"

"She's not dead for good."

"Dean, we can't make another deal like that, if that's what you're thinking. It just leads us into more problems."

"Sam, this is y/n! I don't give shit what I have to do."

Sam stopped there, he knew it wasn't a good time to reason with Dean. He needed to give it time.

"Here." Sam held out his hand. He placed the object in Dean's hand. Dean opened his palm, now holding y/n's charm bracelet.

"What are you doing?!" Dean raised his tone, agitated.

"What do you mean? I-"

"Why did you take this off of her!?" Dean growled.

Before Sam could say anything else, Dean opened the door and stormed back into the hospital. Sam followed, delaying himself a little bit to give Dean some space. He was hoping this would give him some time for closure.

Dean's anger led him into y/n's room a little fast. He slowed his vigorous pace when he saw her. He slowly approach the bedside and sat next to her, gently hooking the charms around her wrist once more. A tear escaped his waterline when he looked up at her, not receiving the smile she always gave him. He squeezed her hand in his, lowering his head with the gesture. Dean sat there for a while in thought, when her hand started to feel different. Almost as if it was less limp. He squeezed it some more subconsciously, but this time felt her hand clench underneath his. He shot up, looking at y/n confused.

"y/n?" Her chest rose up and fell heavily as her body took a breath. "Y/n!?"

Sam overheard and peeked in. "Dean, wha-."

"Get the doctor, now!" He flipped his head around. Sam nodded and ran out confused.

Y/n's chest was now rising and falling in a rhythm, Dean kept saying her name and sweet things. Then her eyes slowly opened.

"y/n!" Dean let out an overjoyed cry. "Oh! sweetheart...."

"help... owh." y/n managed to wheeze out, trying to catch her breath.

"Dean.." she caught a gaze of him. He smiled and fixed her stray hairs on her forehead. "It hurts t-t much." she breathed out, then doctors flooded into the room with Sam close behind.

"Y/n!!?" Sam breathed out as he caught sight of her.... alive.

The doctors started giving her oxygen, medicine and checked her vitals. Dean backed up to give them space to work. "Dean! no.." y/n mumbled.

"It's okay, I'm right here! I'm not going anywhere."

Sam pulled him aside. "Dean! What did you do?"

"Nothing! I swear! She... she was gone when I came in, and then..."

"Cas."

"So, Cas did this?"

Dean nodded, looking back at y/n.

All the commotion died down, y/n was stable. The doctors were confused as hell, but ruled it out as a medical miracle, and were pleased to inform Sam and Dean that she'd be alright.

"So, who do I thank?" y/n asked.

"Cas." Dean smiled.

"Glad to have you back, kid." Sam grinned.

"Me too.... gotta love my good luck charm!" she smiled, jingling her bracelet around.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Playing with Fire: The Restaurant

Fandom: Marvel (Dad’s Best Friend AU)

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad’s coworker and best friend, Bucky, decides to tag along with you on your errands after your boyfriend bailed on you last minute.

A/N: Bucky is in his late 40s, reader in her mid to late 20s. i can't believe this is turning into ANOTHER series when i have like 5 others to finish. WHY DO I KEEP DOING THIS TO MYSELF?!

The Book Store | The Photobooth

Bucky could tell there was still some tension between you and him. He mentally scolds himself for upsetting you earlier, but that doesn't mean what he said wasn't true. You do deserve better than how your boyfriend treats you. Guess that's what makes him different from who you're currently dating. He's a boy. Bucky's a man.

"You hungry?" Bucky asks as you and he enter your car.

You buckle your seatbelt and shrug, "I could eat."

"There's a diner I like to go to. I can pull it up on GPS?"

"Sure," you respond to him curtly and he sighs, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair.

"Listen, I'm sorry what I said earlier upset you. It wasn't my intention."

"Then what was your intention, Bucky?" you glare at him.

He blows air out of his mouth, "Um, well, just to let you know that you deserve better, ya know? I mean, this boy-"

"He's an adult, Bucky, a man."

That makes him scoff, "Sweetheart, please. A man makes time for you. A man isn't afraid to show you off. A man doesn't procrastinate on his project and miss out on time with his beautiful girl."

Your brows raise. Did Bucky just call you beautiful? What? "So you think you do better than him?"

He smirks at you, "I know I can," he gets out of your car and you look at him confused, "What're you doing?"

"Get out. I'm driving," he jogs to your side of the car and opens it, "C'mon."

"Why?"

He grins at you and shrugs, "A man never lets his lady drive. Now up and out, sugar," he holds out his hand for you.

You huff out and roll your eyes, unbuckling yourself and place your hand in his. He helps you to your feet as you step out of the car. You proceed to walk towards the passenger's side and buckle in, "Can't believe I can't drive my own car."

Bucky chuckles, "Just trust me on this, Y/N. You'll see how a real man should treat a woman." He gives you a wink and you hate that that little gesture causes butterflies to erupt in your belly. You cross your arms over your chest defensively, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, "Whatever, can we go, please? I'm hungry."

"Sure thing," he pulls out of the parking spot and starts the drive to the diner.

________________________

You're sitting across from Bucky in a booth at the diner he drove you to. He's watching you and you feel your eyes on him, but you're not trying to give him any attention. This wasn't something you expected when he agreed to accompany you on your errands today. Did you find Bucky attractive? Absolutely. Did you also find him charming and irresistible? Unfortunately. But this is definitely a forbidden thing. You're in a relationship and he's your dad's coworker and best friend. That's definitely immoral, right?

But then you think about the way he looked at you, the way his hands felt on your hips in the photobooth, it lit a fire inside of you that you didn't know existed.

But no, this definitely can't happen. You won't let it happen. Absolutely not.

"Ready, sweetheart?" you look up at Bucky, his deep blue eyes searing into yours. Yup, you're fucked.

"You said their burgers are good?"

"Delicious. One of the best burgers I've ever had," he replies with a smile.

"Guess I'll get that then."

"Whatever you want, you can get. I'm paying."

You groan, "Bucky-"

He shrugs with a smirk, "It's part of the deal."

"John pays for my food too," you point out, reminding him, and yourself, that you have a boyfriend.

Bucky scoffs, "Does he let you eat some of his food even though you have your own? Does he share milkshakes with you and let you dip your fries into it?"

"...sometimes."

He shakes his head, "What's mine is yours, sweetheart."

The waitress comes over and she immediately looks Bucky up and down. She clearly clocked in on how attractive Bucky is. Honestly, you don't like how uneasy it made you.

"What can I get ya, handsome?" she asks Bucky with a bat of her eyes.

Bucky doesn't look up from his menu, "Bacon burger, side of fries, and strawberry shake," he sets his menu down and looks at you, "What about you, sugar?"

The waitress looks at you with less enthusiasm in her eyes, "Cheeseburger with fries and a Coke."

"Sure thing. That'll be out in a bit," she pats Bucky's shoulder and you can't help but snort when she walks away.

"What?"

"Our waitress was soooo checking you out, Buck."

He shrugs, "Don't care. A man should only have eyes for his girl, right?" he winks at you and you look away.

You can't help but scoff, "If you're such a great partner, how come you're single then?" you look at him with a 'gotcha' face and you feel victorious as Bucky pouts.

"Honestly? Work. I work too much to make time for dating."

"So what's this then?" you gesture between yourself and him.

He shrugs, "I happen to have free time."

You roll your eyes, "Bucky, you and my dad hang out a lot. I'm sure you can replace that time with dating."

"Then I won't be able to see you," he smirks at you again and you can't help but laugh, "You're a menace!"

"I'm just trying to show you what a real man's about, sugar."

"Here's your drinks and your food will be out shortly!" the waitress shoots a wink to Bucky and you give another snort.

"I'm telling you, you should get back into the dating game instead of hanging out with losers like my dad and I."

"Hey, I like you losers, so you can't get rid of me that easily."

[chowaya]

pyro!john allerdyce x fem!reader

PIERCING EARS

" WILL THIS BE QUICK? "

" yup. "

" Are you sure you know how to do this? "

" yeah. "

" Have you done this to anyone else? "

At the question, your own face told on you— curling up in an expression enough to tell your boyfriend. Who then backs his head away from your hands, still holding the ice pack to his ear with a widened eyes.

" What? "

" Can you really pierce ears? " John Allerdyce asked with much concern as he sat on your closed toilet seat, with your shadow looking over him as you stood.

The general reason why you're both in the toilet ready to pierce/get pierced was because of your boyfriend's sudden curiosity to your own piercings, all-lined up funky jewelry dangling across your ears.

The conversation of you two just chatting went from your taste in jewelry to how you got them done and stuff. Proudly, you announced earlier how you did them yourself. So here you are.

" I pierced myself. What lessons or mistakes you think I'm supposed to learn have been done and learnt. " You tried to reassure him of your specialities, you then pointed to your own ears. " I didn't achieve all of this in a night, okay? I did them one by one. Got some infections on the earlier ones but then I did better- they turned out better. "

Letting his fingers, reach and swipe your hair behind them and he gently grazes his fingers across the shell of your ears. He had a habit of doing this, and you always felt squeamish from it.

Squirming from his touch, you set down your tools first somewhere that was already cleaned. Having already sanitized the counter before having done this. " Hey, you don't have to bend for this, alright? "

" You don't have to trust me enough to completely do it, that's totally fine. You don't have to play along or act bravely, these things are permanent- they might heal or they won't. We can go get it done by a professional if you want, tomorrow is alright." Your hands then went to cup his face, mirroring the same habits of grazing the shell of your ears.

John could look at you with such endearment, you knew he loved it when you held him like this. He knows you do it because you want him to feel safe— " It's your choice. "

" I'm so inlove with you, woman. " You couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden comment, even he laughed along as well. His warm hands touching yours, you smugly smiled. " Oh, I know. "

" Yeah, but I want to get them done today. So you do it. " You nodded, trailing away your hands to reach for the needle and his Zippo lighter. " Alright. Are your ears numb enough? "

" Hm-mph, " He hummed, holding up an ice pack to his ear before pulling it back to his lap. " Okay, put the dapple behind your ear and you'll then feel a light pinch. "

As he did what's he was told, you lit up the sharp needle with the small trickling flame of his lighter then shutting it close with a click before inching closer to him. Whispering, " If something's wrong, tell me. "

" Yeah, yeah, i hear you. "

" Good. " As the sharp end punctured his flesh, you saw his expression curled on its own. And voila! A black stud had accessories one of his ears, you then moved to the next one. And you were done.

" You have to leave it one for at least. . a week, even then I don't recommend sleeping on your sides. " You commented as he got up to check them in the mirror, tilting his head side to side as the ends of his mouth curled slightly. " And wash it a few times with salt water so it doesn't get affected, I'll help you with that. "

He turned to you with a content look. And you smiled back, leaning across the wall behind you with arms crossed. " You goin' to show off my work to Drake? "

" Totally. " He inched closer with a step closer, " But before that. . . " He trailed off, as warm familiar lips went to meet yours in a long lasting peck, " Thank you. " He whispered.

You warmly smiled, " You're welcome. "

[peachpitlover]

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Word Count: 760

Warnings: Slight mentions of violence

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

JJ felt a sense of relief settle over his aching body as he entered the code to your house, sighing as he heard the familiar beep and click of the front door unlocking.

It had become a routine of sorts for him to show up at your house unannounced after a particularly tough day. As he shut the door behind him, he took off his shoes and pulled out some random keys from his pocket, setting them on the end table. His head fell back when he breathed out a sigh, his heart finally settling in his chest. He can hear faint footsteps upstairs.

He had gone to Luke's house to find a picture because he needed to prove John B wrong, but what he hadn't anticipated was that Luke would be waiting for him with rage seeping from every pore. Every hit shattered his heart, and he could feel his world coming apart. Everything you helped him build came shattering down with each punch.

He stood in your kitchen with a busted lip and bruises littering his body as he chugged down a glass of water before stepping into your pantry. Your cat nudged against JJ’s calves as he looked for something to satiate his sudden hunger. He settled for a box of Cheez-Its and a fruit bar before he mindlessly found his way to your room. The shower was running, so he shrugged off his shirt and replaced his sandy shorts with the pair of sweatpants that you kept in your drawers for him before getting comfortable in your bed. With his snacks on your bedside table, he tucked himself into your soft sheets while his head sank into your fluffy pillows. In his own world, he didn't even notice your presence in the doorway of the bathroom.

“Y’know,” you started with a cheeky smile. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like you barging in here unannounced and inviting yourself into my bed.”

His stomach flutters at the sound of your voice: “But you’re just so pretty, I couldn’t care less about your boyfriend.”

“You’re the prettiest, so I’ll let it slide this time,” you giggled as you brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Kook or Luke?” You asked as you ran the knuckle of your pointer finger over the blossoming bruise on his cheek.

“Mr. Maybank himself.”

“Why’d you go over there, baby?”

“John B didn’t believe me that he stole that hat from me when we were little, so I went to go get a picture. He bet twenty bucks,” JJ huffed.

“Anything need some stitching up?”

“John B’s damn mouth,” he laughed. “I could use some head scratches while I eat your Cheez-Its, though.”

“When did you become so demanding?” You smiled as you got into bed next to him in order to guide his head to your chest.

“Since this girl I met started treating me like a prince.”

“Yeah?” You giggled.

“Yup, she treats me real good; maybe your boyfriend would be here if you treated him as well as she treats me.” “Do I know her? Maybe I could ask for some tips,” you said, and your hand slid under the covers to tickle tenderly at his warm back.

“Oh, you know her so well! More than you think,” he smiled as he cuddled his head further against your skin.

Alright, Mr. Charmer, get comfy; I’ll get on with your request,” you said.

His dimples dug into his cheeks deliciously as he smiled while getting comfortable in between your legs, his back against your chest. As your skilled fingers got busy in soft hair that feigned gold in the lighting of your room, JJ felt more content than he had in a long while. A heavy weight lifted off his shoulders as you turned on your TV, and he stuffed the fruit bar into his mouth.

“No horror movies,” he mumbled through his full mouth.

“Was gonna put Jane the Virgin on,” you said.

“Let’s watch The Simpsons.”

“Ok, sweet boy,” you said as you smiled at him.

He wiggled a little to get snug against you once again after he grabbed the box of Cheez-Its. Your left hand ventured along his shoulders and tickled lightly over his chest as your right hand entangled through his hair. Over the next few minutes, you felt his shoulders slowly fall from their tensed position. You felt content with his weight against you but more honored to be his safe haven, as you knew utter relaxation was not something JJ found easily.

My Masterlists

Send in an ask if you'd like to be on my tag list:) And thank you so much for reading!

[moremaybank]

Heyyyyy Lovely 🩷💕💖! I was wondering if we could get a JJ x routledge!reader when John B finds out readers pregnant, I LOVE YOUR WRITING KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK!!!!!!!! 💝

warnings mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sexual relations, slight language

jj masterlist

You and JJ are on your way to the chateau. The atmosphere consists of a mix of nervousness and anticipation as the weight of your news hangs in the air. You're staring out at the sights from your window, your mind wandering and tuning out the noise of the radio. Your teeth are sunken into your bottom lip, and if you bite down any harder, you're sure to draw blood.

JJ knows you're stressed. It's written all over your face, not that he needs to look at you to know what's going on inside of that mind he loves so much. He steadies his left hand on the steering wheel, and reaches over the middle console to intertwine your fingers. His touch and voice pull you out of your anxious daze.

"It's gonna be okay, baby," he says. You turn to face him, and he looks over at you for as long as he can with a comforting look in hopes of calming your nerves. "Everything's gonna work out."

You sigh. "I'm just worried. He flipped when he found out we were dating, and now, there's a baby on the way? I just don't see this going all that smoothly."

"He flipped because he found me balls deep inside you. I don't think he would've taken that news so badly if he hadn't." You both laugh at his joke, and he gives your hand a squeeze. "He loves us. He'll be okay."

You smile at your boyfriend. He always knows exactly how to cheer you up, even when you can't see a way of doing so.

"I love you, y'know that? You keep me sane."

"I love you, and our lil' nugget," he grins, showing off his dimple. "'N John B will too. I promise."

-

When you two pull up to the chateau, you get out of the car and walk hand in hand to the door, and your heart races. Before knocking, JJ pulls you into him. His arms circle your body and he kisses your hairline. He murmurs a we got this, pretty girl against your skin. You don't know if he's talking about what your about to conquer, or the pregnancy, or both. Still, it doesn't matter, because having him by your side is everything.

The door swings open, and John B comes into view. "What's up you two?"

JJ quirks a brow. "How'd you know we were here?"

"Well, between your car horn going off when you locked it, and your loud, clunky-ass boots, you weren't exactly subtle with your arrival."

You all share a laugh and enter the chateau, heading to the living room.

"So, what's going on? Why'd you request a meeting with me?"

You roll your eyes, huffing a laugh. "You're so lame. And to answer your question, we actually have some news for you."

"Hmm," John B hums, pretending to be deep in thought. "JJ's finally gonna start paying me rent?"

"In your dreams, man," JJ replies. "'N I'm actually gonna be moving into Y/N's place."

John B's eyes flash with excitement. "Great! That means I don't have to listen to you two going at it like you've been in prison for ten years without getting any."

"Ew, no," you say. You exchange a glance with JJ, who gives you an encouraging nod. You hesitate for a moment, before finally deciding to tell him. "John B, JJ's moving in with me 'cause we're...pregnant."

You wait for the explosion, but it never comes. Instead, your statement is followed with silence and a dropped jaw. The longer it goes on, the more JJ loses his cool, and he eventually flips. He stands up abruptly, running his hand through his hair.

"Okay, look, dude. I know you probably wanna punch me out right now, or kick me in the nuts, but I swear, I-"

"Pregnant," John B repeats, eyes trained on you.

You gulp, nodding in confirmation. "Yup. Preggers."

John B's lips spread into a wide grin, and he yanks JJ back down so he can wrap you both in a group hug. The excitement is practically coming out of his ears as he squeezes you both tightly.

"Wait a sec. You're happy about this?" You ask, clearly in shock. "I thought you were gonna kill JJ."

"Are you kidding me?" John B kisses your cheek, then JJ's (who can't contain his laugh), and then your other one. "This is amazing! I'm gonna be an uncle! Oh my god, I gotta go buy a car seat for the Twinkie. And floaties for when Baby Maybank is on the Pogue, and-"

"Woah. You've got time, JB. I'm barely twelve weeks," you laugh. "But I am thrilled about your enthusiasm."

"Yeah, man. I thought you were going to kick my ass," JJ adds. "Definitely wasn't expecting all this."

John B's smile is infectious, and you instantly feel relief wash over you at the sight of his contagious enthusiasm. It warms your heart, seeing how happy he is about the news. You feel like you can breathe again, like you can truly be excited yourself about it all.

"I love you guys, and I know you're gonna make great parents. But you," he says, his eyes moving solely onto you. "You're still my baby sister. I'm gonna be with you every step of the way."

You smile up at him, cuddling into him more. "I love you too, uncle JB."

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[ninjaturtlemaniac]

John Dory and Sable ❤️

“Is this a date?”

Sable blinked at him and put her glass down before she could take a sip.

“Pardon me?”

No turning back now.

“Are we on a date right now?”

“Do you want it to be?”

“I ughhh…”

Do I…?

“What would you do differently? If I was on a date with THE John Dory?”

John thought for a moment. 

What do I do on dates? I haven't dated since… Wait, were those even dates?

“Well...” he tried to appear more confident. “For starters I'd take you somewhere a lot less ughh…”

“Snooty?”

“I was gonna say ‘crowded’ but yeah snooty works.”

“Perhaps I did overdo it. I only bring people here when I want to impress them. Which is silly I guess. I don't feel like I have to impress you.”

“Gee, thanks.” JD deadpanned.

“Wow! I worded that terribly, didn't I?” Sable snort-laughed at herself. “What I meant was… you…know me, so I don't have to be…fake… in front of you.”

“You can't be Sable for other people?”

“Not often. Part of being a public figure.”

“I can understand that I guess.”

Sable noticed the clothes John Dory was wearing. They were far different from his usual getup. Even at the Met Gala, his fancy dinner outfit was still very ‘John Dory’ inspired.

What he was wearing tonight, he wasn't being John Dory.

He was trying to be someone else for her.

She couldn't do that to him.

Before she knew it she had dropped her napkin onto the table.

She stood up and offered him her hand.

“Let's go somewhere less snooty.”

“What about dinner?”

She grabbed the bread basket.

“Done!”

JD smiled wide and took her hand.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Your beverage Ms. Sable” he said in a silly snobby voice as he offered her a can of soda.

“Why thank you, good Sir.”

“Sorry I didn't have a better place to bring you to.”

After some brainstorming, John Dory decided to take her to his workplace; the Pop Village stables. It was definitely quieter and less crowded, the occupants also didn't stare and judge you.

They made a pitstop on the way and grabbed junk food. Sable was having a great time but John was suddenly feeling just that little bit insecure about not having anything prepared in advance.

He was also suddenly very aware of the smell of the smell that the stables had. 

“Are you kidding? I love coming here. This place is so…serene.”

Sable laid back on the hay and sighed contently as she shut her eyes.

John Dory happened to glance up from his food at that moment after taking a bite from the basket of restaurant bread.

Was the lighting from the moon somehow making her glow? Or was that just his brain?

Beautiful.

…

What?

John Dory suddenly stood up in a panic hoping that a distraction would chase away that random thought.

“I got something to show you!” he yelled as she scampered off.

Sable stood up confusedly and followed.

John led her to one of the more enclosed stables.

The only light source was a set of large heat lamps set up over a large container.

Sable hesitated but she looked inside curiously.

Inside were what appeared to be some oddly shaped eggs.

“Those are some unique looking critter eggs. What are they? Buzzer bugs? Golden Beetrievers?”

JD leaned on the edge of the container and smirked.

“Shadow Spiders”

…

Sable took a huge step back with widened eyes.

“Shadow Spiders?!”

“Yup!” 

“As in, those creepy big spiders that have a habit of eating Trolls?”

John Dory just laughed.

“Yup they're the ones!”

“What the…? How are you still alive?!”

“Pfftt I've gone up against way worse than Shadow Spiders before! But these little guys we found all alone.”

“Aw. Poor little…ugh… things”

“We think the mother got eaten by something bigger.”

“Oh joy. Larger predators. What do you want them for?”

“Sooooo, Shadow Spiders stay out of each other's territory. We're thinking if we raise these little guys here then hopefully they'll make this their territory and-”

“-the wild ones won't come near Pop Village!”

“Exactly!”

“That is genius!”

“Thank you, thank you!” he bowed and blew kisses to an imaginary crowd.

“It was your idea?”

“Don’t sound so shocked. I have great ideas.”

“Well, I'm impressed.”

JD's face flushed red.

Sable softly stroked one of the eggs. She exaggerated a shiver from being creeped out.

“You plan on rearing them yourself?”

“No better Troll for the job! …Literally! Would you believe no one else volunteered? 

“Now why wouldn't Trolls line up to bottle feed bloody thirsty Shadow Spiders?!”

“Right?! Not sure how they'll respond to their new Mama being a Troll but hey it'll be fun!”

“I'm sure they'll love their new Mama.”

They both laughed at the absurdity of it.

John Dory introduced Sable to all the critters living at the stables. She had so many questions which JD was happy to answer.

The more Sable engaged with him, the more his insecurities were silenced.

JD was actually having a great time.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When it started to get late, JD offered to walk her back to her pod.

The walk back was filled with chatter about their shared interest in critters.

“You know what? This might sound like a silly idea but…I actually have a trained Saddleback Spider. She's mothered quite a few hatchlings. If you needed a docile, mother spider present. So they can learn ‘spider behaviors’. I’d be happy to lend her to you.”

“That’d be perfect! I'll take you up on that!”

Sable pulled up her shawl to cover her shoulders more.

“So what is the verdict, John Dory? Was this a date?”

“I'm not sure yet. Still deciding.”

“I really appreciate you letting me make it up to you and you know what? I ended up having a lot of fun.”

“What? Did you think you wouldn't have fun?”

“I expected that I would ruin the night somehow.”

“Don’t sweat it! You did great!” He gave her two thumbs up.

Sable snort-laughed “I appreciate the feedback.”

They stopped outside Sable's pod in silence for a moment before Sable stuck out her hand.

“Thank you for walking me home.”

John hesitated but then he took her hand.

Sable tried to shake his hand, but he brought her hand to his lips.

He looked into her eyes as he gave her a small peck on her hand.

*Ding*

“Oh! Hug time?” Sable offered.

“You don't have to…”

“Come here.”

Sable pulled him in for a firm hug.

John was taken aback slightly but then hugged her back.

She smells nice.

…

Don't be weird.

Sable pulled back slightly and fluttered her eyes as she realized how close their faces were.

John noticed too.

Kiss her!

John pulled away from the hug abruptly and chuckled awkwardly.

He gave her a friendly punch on her shoulder.

“Goodnight, Sable”

“Goodnight, John Dory”

He watched the pod door close behind Sable as she entered her pod. 

He turned to head home but…

He hesitated.

He turned back to the door and raised his hand to knock.

…

But he didn't.

With a sigh he descended the stairs and started his walk home.

John Dory didn't go straight home to Rhonda. He walked around the village for a while to clear his head.

One thing wouldn't leave his head though.

Sable

She made him feel sick but in a good way?

She was definitely different from how she used to be.

She'd grown into a very attractive Troll.

…

What?

…

Okay, okay so I’m admitting that she's attractive. Any Troll with eyes and half a brain can see that! So what?

Does it mean I'm attracted to her?

…

Sure! I can be attracted to her if I want. Nothing wrong with that.

Doesn't mean I have to do anything about it.

Right?

I can be attracted to someone and not make a big deal about it! It's not like I have to see her again or anything?!

…

Do I want to see her again?

…

Yes I do.

That last thought hit him hard. 

He wanted to see Sable again.

Oh… Muses

I think I'm in

…

…

Trouble!

 -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

*Splash*

What the fuck?

A sudden cold splash of water to the face brought JD out of his sleep.

He found Clay, Bruce and Floyd standing over him.

Death glaring.

“What the? What's the big id…?!”

“SABLE!?!?!?!” they yelled together.

The collective yell caused John Dory to fall out of his loft bed.

He rubbed his head and opened his eyes to a very excited Poppy and Viva, both holding copies of the same magazine.

Oh.

“How come you didn't tell us your date was with SABLE?!” Poppy squealed.

John Dory took one of the magazine copies and held it up to look.

He knew this was gonna happen.

One photo of the two of them at the restaurant, one outside the stables and one outside her pod. And of course, the photos were angled to look a lot more ‘intimate’ than they actually were.

“All the crap you used to give us about not being allowed to date a Sugar Gal!” said Bruce.

“But nooooo, of course John Dory is allowed!” said Clay.

“You threatened to ground us if we ever so much as looked in their direction!” said Bruce.

“The photo of my kiss with Summer? Two months of school then straight home! Yes, I did get a lot of studying done but that's not the point, it's the principle!” said Clay.

“You're right” John tried quietly.

…

…

Clay and Bruce suddenly stopped.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Clay was confused.

“You're right. It wasn't fair that I tried to control who you could date.”

He grabbed a towel and dried the water from his hair.

The other Trolls present looked at each other for answers.

Was he like, sick or something?

He didn't take his eyes off the magazine as he dropped the towel and sat down on the couch.

“Sometimes you can't help who you're attracted to.” he said softly.

He smiled at the photo of him and Sable at hug time. He traced a finger over their picture.

Bruce squatted down in front of John and looked up at John's face.

JD darted his eyes around, trying not to look Bruce in the eye.

“Oh Muses, he's in love!” Bruce stated loudly!

They all gasped. The girls squealed.

“Oh my gosh this is so amazing! Have you told her?!”

“What? No no no no no I'm not in love!”

“This is the same dinner that had you panicking cause you weren't sure if it was a date or not?” Clay frowned.

“Well, yeah? But it wasn't! Sable and I... We went to dinner because we made a truce.”

“Looks like a little bit more than dinner, John.” Floyd smiled slyly as he pointed to the barn photo.

“It's not like that!” JD blushed.

Bruce sighed “Okay, you had your truce dinner. Are you gonna see her again?”

JD avoided eye contact.

“John Dory?”

“I mean…”

Floyd sat down with John and held one of his hands “John, ignore them. Be honest with me. Do you actually like her?

“...Yeah”

“Do you enjoy her company?”

“Yeah I do.”

“Do you want to see her again?”

“Yeah” he sighed.

“What's stopping you?”

“She's so…smart and sophisticated and I'm well…me”

Bruce patted his shoulder “It isn't about your pedigree or how many fancy diplomas you have on your wall. It's about the thought and effort you give to each other.”

“You really think I could do it? I don't even know where to start!”

“Amazinnias!” Viva interrupted.

Everyone looked at her.

“Sables’s favorite flowers. The magazines said so!”

“Chances are that the magazine is very wrong but it's a start!” Floyd said encouragingly.

Floyd and Bruce looked at Clay, silently telling him to try and be encouraging as well.

Clay groaned dramatically then sighed “The chocolatier in town, they keep records of people's choices. You could get Sable's favorites to go with the Amazinnias.”

Poppy jumped excitedly “There we go! You have a plan, JD!”

Floyd “And if you get worried about anything, please talk to us!”

“Go get your girl!” Bruce bumped his shoulder.

John stood up from the couch with determination on his face. He grabbed his goggles and started for the door.

Bruce suddenly grabbed his shoulder “Jonathan Dorian! For the love of all that is Trolly, put pants on first!”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A muffled voice sounded from outside her door “Sable, you have a visitor”

“Send them in.” She tied a bow on her robe as the door opened.

John Dory entered with a sheepish smile, holding a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers.

Sable snort-laughed “Hey! Do you actually watch my performances or do you just wait till they're over to-”

“Last night wasn't a date” He interrupted. He had to say it before his nerves took over.

Sable frowned.

“Okay, you came all the way here to tell me that last night wasn't a date?

“No no no. I came all the way here with chocolates and flowers to tell you last night wasn't a date.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“You are such an odd Troll, John Dory.” Sable turned back to her mirror to remove her stage makeup. 

She eyed his nervous expression in the reflection.

“Last night can't have been a date because, if it was, then that would mean I wouldn't get to make a fool of myself and ask you out on a real one.”

Sable suddenly stopped and turned back to face him. 

JD cleared his throat.

“Sable, do you think you'd wanna go… you know… do an actual date with me?”

Sable stood up slowly and didn't take her eyes away from his.

She softly held the sides of his face, and pulled him down into a soft kiss.

John's eyes shot open and he gasped against her lips. After a moment he completely melted and his eyes slowly closed.

Flowers and chocolates dropped to the floor as his hands hesitantly landed on her hips.

He pulled her closer so they were chest to chest.

Her hands found their way to the back of his head and she softly stroked his hair.

Sable finally pulled back and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

She giggled at the goofy lovestruck smile on his face.

John shook the clouds from his head.

“Soooo….Is that a ‘yes’?”

Sable snort-laughed. “Yes, John Dory”

“Yes!” He threw his hands in the air in triumph.

“The last three nights have involved a lot of screaming, attack armadillos, mud and spider eggs. You've set the bar pretty high for yourself. How're you gonna top that?”

“Baby, you haven't seen nothin yet!”

“Baby?” Sable laughed.

“Don't like that? I have others! Toots? Sugar? Sweet Cakes? Princess?”

“What have I gotten myself into?”

“No, I ruined your gifts! I'm sorry!” He dropped down to his knees to pick up the scattered flowers and chocolates.

“It's okay John.”

“No, the chocolates are squished and the flowers are falling apart now…”

Sable gave him a comforting smile.

“Off to a great start aren't I?” he sighed sadly.

“Look, John. The chocolates are still edible and look, I can make potpourri with the petals.”

“Popper what?”

“I'll show you sometime…Stud Muffin.”

That was hot.

Oh John Dory was definitely in… trouble.

And he didn't mind one bit.

[obxsummer]

The Place Where I Belong // Ghost of You

summary below the cut to avoid spoilers for s3 ep7&8

navigation -- series masterlist

--

summary: your boys are up to no good and singh's men are right behind you in the search for neville persaud. it's time to find a way to south america, but things for you and your friends take a turn for the worst.

warnings: the usual obx chaos, heartbreak, mentions of cheating

--

The boys were quick to catch you up, more so John B sharing details with you and JJ about being held at gunpoint, the fact that your dad killed two people and threw them overboard, and always hesitated when it came to John B vs the treasure. You were spiraling in shock that all of this happened and you had no idea. You knew John B was shaken from coming back the other day, but you didn’t imagine this to be why.

Before you knew it, the three of you were piled into the Twinkie with John B and JJ up front fighting over a map. 

“Walk me through it one more time.”

“Okay, right there-” John B’s finger smacked the map. “That’s where they’re taking him. That’s the sight of the idol.”

Your brows furrowed as you leaned in between them, glancing at where he motioned to. “You pointed to just South America, you understand that, right?”

He gave a hesitant nod before replying, “Yup.”

“That’s all you know? He’s somewhere in South America?”

“That’s why we’re going to the professor’s house!” Your brother defended back. “Look, he was at the site.”

You groaned, letting your head fall against the seat when JJ started freaking out. “Wait. Whoa, whoa, whoa! We’re going to a house now with a dead body in it? That-that’s where we’re going?”

“...Yeah.”

“And if the cops show up, you know what that makes us look like?”

“...Yes.”

“Okay!” You inserted yourself again and pulled the useless map from JJ’s hands. “Let’s not focus on that please before I make you turn around and go home. Let’s just make this quick, okay? In and out.”

John B slowed the van down once you approached a house so he could park on the side of the street. The three of you climbed out and ducked through the landscaping to the side door. John B walked in first, you next, with JJ bringing up the back. 

The house was a disaster but you were honestly expecting that. You were anticipating a dead body the second you walked in but were glad that wasn’t in sight and could hopefully be avoided. 

“His body’s gone,” John B said as he approached the wooden table in the center of the room. “Sowell was right here.”

JJ glanced over your shoulder. “Right, no, I know what happened. They’ve already been here, John B. They sent in the sweepers and now probably decontaminated this entire room. There’s probably nothing left, we should get out.”

John B continued to pace around the room and looked for anything that could possibly be helpful. “May-maybe there is something,” He held his hands out in defense. You could tell he was starting to freak out at the idea of not finding anything to help.

“Okay, what are we looking for exactly?” You sighed as you looked around the messy room. This could take hours to go through if you didn’t have a goal in mind.

“Anything to do with an archaeological dig.”

You huffed, “Yeah, okay, bro. That really narrows it down.” You began to shift through the stack of books in front of you, quickly reading titles before deciding they were useless. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t leave your fingerprints!” JJ followed after you with a rag to wipe off anything you had touched. You shook your head at him as he announced that he was going to look in the kitchen, that nobody ever touches the fridge.

A few maps were scattered across the shelves you were searching, but none of them were for South America. This was beginning to seem useless. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t 100% about going to rescue your dad as soon as possible, but the idea of losing El Dorado to Singh was enough to motivate you.

“Y/N. JJ.” You turned at your brother’s voice to see him holding a piece of paper in his hand. Your boyfriend, however, was face-first into the fridge. “What is it? Snack time? What are we doing?”

“You know what, I feel very judged right now,” JJ defended himself before taking a bite out of the chicken wing regardless. “There’s an entire bird in here that’ll just go to waste, okay? I’m not gonna let that happen, it’s not like I’m stealing it.”

You tuned him out as he continued to justify his time in the fridge. Taking the piece of paper from your brother’s hand, you analyzed the sketch in front of you. The name Solana didn’t ring any bells, but you were sure it was important nonetheless. John B nudged you to read the newspaper clipping he’d found. 

“Local expedition team departs for South America,” You read aloud. The group photo in front of you didn’t help point in any direction. You honestly had no idea what you were looking at. This is why your dad never needed you when it came to treasure hunting.

“Holy shit. Neville,” Your brother blurted out. “The last thing Sowell said before he died was ‘Neville’. Neville, meaning-”

“Right there.” JJ’s grease-covered finger reached over your shoulder to tap the unfamiliar face of the owner of the name. “Neville Persaud, expedition guide.”

It took the boys a minute to catch up, figuring out that Neville was the only remaining individual on the expedition to be alive. Obviously, you would have to find him to get some answers on where exactly to go. The hard part was where to even start. 

--

JJ had theorized that he might possibly know where to find someone related to Neville Persaud. John B had no choice but to trust him and followed his directions. You, however, decided it was nap time and the Twinkie was always the best place to crash during a road trip. 

You weren’t sure how long you were asleep, evidently long enough that they found someone who knew where to find Neville. You were rudely awakened by the slamming of the van door rattling you from your sleep. You shot up with a gasp, turning to see JJ and John B staring back at you amusedly. 

“Goddamn you two,” You murmured as you sat up fully and rubbed your eyes. Nothing like a literal jumpscare to get up and moving. With a huff, you pulled yourself off the seat and took JJ’s outstretched hand to climb out of the Twinkie. The sun burned your fresh eyes causing you to curl into his side to hide as he shut the door again.

“Sleep okay?” His whisper was gentle as he kissed your head, holding you to his chest so you could try and wake up fully. You nodded against his t-shirt and tried to clear the sleep from your mind. 

“If you two are done macking on each other, we have to find Neville.”

You removed yourself from JJ, making sure to flip your brother off before lacing your fingers with your boyfriend’s and following them through the tree line until you hit the water. “Ah, what the hell are we doing?” You stopped short when there was no boat in sight. 

“Why do you ever doubt me?” JJ joked as he walked straight into the water, his hand tugging yours until you lost your balance from trying to stay dry and stumbled in. You cursed at the idea of wet socks in your shoes (not that it mattered because you were soaked) as John B followed in behind you. “Alright, so we’re looking for… a houseboat.”

The water was just above your knees at this point as the three of you scanned the open water. A look to the sharp right revealed exactly what you were looking for.

“You think he’s there?” You asked as you watched the boat for any sort of indication of someone’s presence. 

“Only one way to find out. Neville! Hey! Neville!”

John B was quick to slap his hand over JJ’s mouth to stop his yelling. “Stop it!”

“Dude, what?” JJ looked offended that his plan had been interrupted. 

“What do you mean ‘what’? He thinks people are trying to kill him and you screaming doesn’t help!” You pointed out as you looked at him incredulously. 

JJ gave an annoyed nod when he realized he was wrong. “Ah, okay. It’s a death trap.”

“Yeah, but unfortunately, we don’t have a choice. He’s the only guy alive who knows where my dad is.”

You whined as you figured out exactly where this is going. “Aw, guys. Seriously!” The annoyance in your voice was hard to miss as they both walked deeper into the water before beginning to swim towards the houseboat. You grumbled to yourself before begrudgingly following them. You didn’t dare spare a thought about what could be swimming around you, especially this far back in the marsh. 

John B climbed up the ladder of the houseboat, JJ letting you go next, not missing the opportunity to smack your ass as you moved up. You turned to glare at him as he smirked in victory. Rolling your eyes, you shifted towards the side of the entryway incase Neville stepped out. John B and JJ did the same, your brother reaching out to hover his hand over the cooking utensils within reach. 

“The stove’s warm. He’s still here,” He whispered to the two of you. “Maybe he split when he heard-”

You took the chance to glance around the side of the boat as a body jumped in front of you. One of the boys shoved you sideways, a machete scraping the spot you had stood in as you stumbled back. Tripping over your own feet, you hit the floor in the kitchen, looking up in time to see JJ get an elbow to his nose. 

“Sir! Listen! Neville, we just wanna talk!” John B attempted to get the man to calm down. You scrambled to get your footing as Neville came within inches of chopping your brother’s arm off.

“John B! Trip line, trip line!” 

Scooting back immediately, both boys moved in tandem to shove Neville over JJ’s outstretched leg, sending your attacker onto the floor in front of you. You tried to get to your feet, yelping as your ankle was pulled, causing you to slam into the wooden surface painfully. So much for that idea.

“No, no, no!” You could hear John B yelling behind you.

“Let her go!” JJ’s demand was followed by grunting and scuffling, leaving you to guess they were gaining an upper hand and your foot wasn’t about to become detached from your body. 

“Stop, stop! We know Professor Sowell.” John B continued to bargain with the man whose grip on your ankle was going past painful.

“Who gave you that name?”

“You were in Orinoco with five other people last year. Right? Right?”

You took the moment of hesitation to kick your right leg out, nailing Neville somewhere in the face hard enough that he released you. JJ was quick to grab a hold of the machete as you scattered further into the boat area, chest heaving from the struggle. 

The second your boyfriend had Neville under the end of the blade, John B was attempting to gain peace. You took a few deep breaths before climbing back to your feet as JJ finally put the machete down. 

“Look, we were just with Sowell yesterday. He uh… he didn’t make it.”

“He’s dead?” Neville was shocked by John B’s revelation. 

Your brother nodded and offered an apology for the loss. Neville got to his own feet shakily, stumbling towards you as you instantly shifted out of the way into your brother’s chest on accident. JJ was quick to grab you and tuck you into his side, eyes no doubt scanning for any injuries. 

“I’m the last one left,” Neville almost whispered as he collapsed onto the couch. 

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, “That’s why we had to get to you before they did. If we found you, they can too.”

Neville stared back at the three of you silently. John B unraveled the sketch from Sowell’s house that was somehow still dry. “Solana, you’ve been there, yeah?”

The man gave the smallest shake of his head. “That is a place of evil.”

“Okay…that stone piece right there, me and my dad found the thingy that goes in the center,” John B’s statement didn’t sound very intelligent but you knew it got the point across. “Gnoman. Now, there are some bad men who have taken my father to this place and they’re going to kill him. So, I need your help to find this place, Neville.”

“No. No, no, no. The curse has already done enough.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a curse, okay? We understand that it’s dangerous, but we need your help.”

JJ’s hand clamped ungracefully over your mouth as you went to continue talking. You moved to push him off before he shushed you. In the distance, you could hear the engine of an oncoming boat. 

“Neville, how much traffic do you get on this river?” JJ’s question was full of uncertainty as he slowly let go of you.

“Nothing.”

“Neville! Neville Persaud!” 

You looked outside the window to see a smaller boat approaching with two men who looked like they would shoot first, ask questions never. Cursing to yourself, you turned back to the boys the second a gunshot shattered the window you were standing near.

“Shit!”

You hit the floor, glass cascading around you as more shots rang out, piercing the boat one by one. Wood splintered next as the attacks kept narrowing into your hiding spots on the floor. 

“Get the anchor!”

You scrambled as fast as possible to regain your footing so you could attempt to get to the anchor without getting shot. JJ was right behind you, machete somehow back in his hand. You kept low to the deck as you made your way to the ladder to slip into the water undetected, hoping that this would be the way you could surround the oncoming attackers before they beat you to it. 

John B splashed next to you causing JJ to whip around to shush him. Your brother pointed in the direction of the anchor for you and JJ before moving onto the smaller boat where one of Singh’s men was standing with a gun. 

“God, this is so not how I planned on spending my sudden influx of free time,” You whispered to JJ, letting annoyance seep into your tone. It was true after all; knowing that there was less and less of a chance to get any treasure you’d been chasing after was upsetting. Of course, you knew it was different with your dad involved, but it still didn’t make you feel any better. 

“I promise you, once we’re done with this and we find the gold, you and me. Vacation. I’m thinking maybe like Alaska, or-or hear me out, let’s go hiking and-”

“J,” You cut him off as you stopped swimming to tread water next to him. “Let’s focus on surviving this first and we can plan a vacation after, yeah?”

JJ gave a nod of consideration before heading back towards the ladder where John B had been cornered. Your boyfriend glanced back at you just as the engine sparked to life on the houseboat. You cursed as JJ tossed the man overboard before reaching down to grab your hand and pull you up quickly before he had a chance to recover.

“The anchor!”

JJ tossed the machete to John B, holding you against him as your brother cut the line and the houseboat began to move down the river. The three of you ran inside the cabin, ignoring the yells of protest from the men you’d tossed overboard.

Various shouts to move faster filled the cabin, Neville trying to assure you all that he was doing his best. Once you gained enough distance between you and Singh’s men, you collapsed into one of the chairs with a huff.

“You owe me an anchor.”

“You’re welcome.” JJ sat next to you, fingers moving to rest on your thigh to pull your attention to him. “You okay?”

You let out a sarcastic laugh and squeezed water from your shirt, letting it drip to the floor. “Oh, yeah. I’m just peachy, babe.”

JJ took one look at you and knew you were pissed. He didn’t blame you either…how could he? You were risking your lives at every turn, all of you. He knew it weighed heavy on you, whether it was acknowledged or not. JJ had watched you be pulled from him again and again and again. He was sick of it, he refused to let you continue to hold everything on your shoulders 

You’d finally gotten a piece of calm, of happiness, in what had been a chaotic run for months on months, and of course, you loved it. It broke JJ’s heart to know they were pulling you away from that peace and quiet for a man who treated you like a fly on the wall; remembering you were there when you made noise just to swat in annoyance a second later.

Who was he to force you to give up that happiness? He was supposed to be the one to ensure you were safe, that you were taken care of in every aspect of things, not shove you face first into something so inherently negative. 

“Neville, they’re taking my father there. You’re the only person who knows where it is. They’re going to kill him unless you help us.”

You were growing sick of John B’s repetition in the short time you’d been on the boat. Obviously, everyone knew why you guys were here, he didn’t have to keep drilling it into your head. 

“They’re going after the gold,” Neville interrupted your thoughts. 

“Ehh-yup. What else are they going to be going after?” JJ blurted as he gave Neville an obvious look. 

“Then they’ll die anyway…unless they can pass the test, which they won’t if they can’t translate the idol. You know the story.” There wasn’t much room to his statement, but JJ made sure that Neville knew you were all unaware of what he was talking about. “El Dorado was found by a Guajiro king, and when it came for him to slip his mortal coil and meet my greats on the astral plane, he wasn’t just going to give the gold to his sons. It was the source of his power. It had to go to the wisest man, and to ensure this actually happened, he set up the test of the gnomon.”

“So there’s like some test now? Okay.”

“There’s always a test.”

Neville ignored the comments. “Whoever passes the test gains access to the gold. You fail the test, you die. If you somehow get to the gold without taking the test, then you die.”

JJ stood up, suddenly uneasy with the idea of death around every corner. “Great. He’s lying, right? ‘Cause there’s no way that actually can happen, right?”

“Tell that to the crew of the San Jose and the Royal Merchant.”

“We don’t want the gold, Neville-” JJ gave you a curious look at John B’s response to which you shook your head. “Just wanna save my dad.”

And John B’s statement, right there, drove a stake through your heart. This is what separated your family for so long. The need for treasure, the want for family. The want for a father that would support you, that would teach you, and love you, and be there when you made mistakes. Someone to cheer you on at sporting events, or congratulate you for good grades and awares. Someone to guide you. 

The want for a brother who would tease you, push you to grow some boundaries, but still be your best friend at the end of the day. Someone to lean on, to joke with, to laugh, to grow. Someone to scream at, to argue with, to cry over. To always know he’s there, always has your back. That brother, thank God, you actually found after some time.

The want for a mother, for someone to cherish you, to smile at your successes. Someone to hold you when you cry, to defend you against all odds, to give advice. The want for the emotional connection, for someone to understand your feelings and be there despite all you’ve done, all you failed to do. Someone to spoil you, to be responsible for you so you had the chance to grow. To change, to love and fail and do it all over again.

The want to just be yourself, to just worry about you and do what you wanted purely because you could. To be sixteen, to love, and fuck around with your friends, and not worry about where your next meal comes from, or who is paying what bill, and how to not get dragged away by DCS. To worry about failing a pop quiz, or what outfit to wear, or who was going to ask you to the dance. Never once have you just been Y/N Routledge. You’ve always been John B’s younger sister, Big John’s daughter, JJ’s girlfriend. You’ve never just been…you. Doing what you want, because you want to. 

And maybe you were silly for having hope that one day all that wanting would turn into reality. Maybe that was the world being cruel for putting the thoughts into your head, but you weren’t going to lie and say you never wished for it.  Because you were wishing for it more than ever right now.

--

The ride back to the Chateau went by quickly with the boys hypothesizing up front and you, wandering in your thoughts in the back. The three of you were quick to hop in the HMS and make you way over to where Kiara’s parents were throwing an anniversary party at The Wreck. You had a feeling they wouldn’t be so happy to see you, not to mention you haven’t shown up to work in who knows how long because of Poguelandia. 

Live music was playing, the sun quickly setting as you guys docked the boat. You instantly felt underdressed, surrounded by a mix of Kooks and higher end Pogues. The three of you stood out in your dirty, worn clothing, not even bothering to change clothes before you came. 

John B moved away to get Sarah’s attention, wanting to fill her in on everything that had been happening. You stayed seated on the dock with your fit overing over the HMS Pogue, figuring Kie would come to join you guys eventually. Maybe. You didn’t really know anymore. 

“So, when are you gonna tell me what cat snatched your tongue since we escaped from Singh’s men?” You turned to JJ with an amused glare. He sat next to you, shifting until you were seated inbetween his legs, your own resting on top of his right thigh. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Contrary to your belief, I do know you pretty well.”

The nickname melted you as you leaned into him, tucking your arms under his so you could rest against his shoulder. “I know you do. Always have.”

The two of you were quiet for a moment and you knew JJ was itching to pull your thoughts out of your brain. Your fingers danced along his hip where his shirt was bunched up, revealing his tanned skin. Why couldn’t life just be this? You, your boyfriend, your friends, having fun at parties and just being kids. 

“How about this?” You hummed as you pressed a kiss to JJ’s jawline. “I’ll tell you all about my wondering thoughts when we get this done with and we’re on vacation somewhere. Just the two of us.”

JJ’s chest moved with a laugh beneath you before a lingering kiss landed on your temple. “Whatever you want, pretty girl. Just tell me where to be and I’ll be there.”

Your moment of paradise was interrupted by your pissy brother stomping his way towards you on the deck. You hopped up quickly as JJ moved behind you, both of you intercepting John B before he could hop on the boat. You expected Sarah and Kie to be following him along, especially once they got the news of where you were going.

“What happened?” You clocked the angry expression carved into his face. “John B!”

“What happened? She cheated, that’s what happened. After everything I’ve been going through, she’s off hooking up with Topper? I mean, what the hell?”

You blinked in shock as John B brushed past you to climb into the HMS Pogue. “Wait, wha- John B! How was she supposed to know what was going on? We haven’t seen them since-”

“Are you taking her side?” He whipped around to point at you. “You, defending Sarah Cameron of all people?”

“John B, I’m not defending her, I’m just saying-”

“If you’re not gonna be on my side to go save my dad, then fucking leave, Y/N. I’ll do it by myself.”

“Dude!”

You swallowed harshly, your throat closing in as tears blurred your vision. Of course, it was silly of you to hope for change, for a dream family. You’d never get that.

“Y/N…”

“It’s okay, JJ,” Your voice cracked to your dismay as the first few tears fell. “I’ll see you guys later.”

The wooden dock was blurry to your eyes as you walked away as fast as possible. Fuck the treasure. Fuck Sarah Cameron for cheating, fuck John B for being a dick, and fuck your dad for always driving a knife into your lives. 

You glanced back in time to see John B punch the shit out of Topper before you disappeared from view. 

--

Maybe it was stupid of you to walk away, especially with the divide between your friends, but you couldn’t be there anymore. You couldn’t be in this mess of treasure hunt anymore. It was too much to sit and watch your family be torn apart day after day. 

You found yourself crawling through a window as the crickets chirped around you. The inside of house was dark and musty, but you pushed through regardless. The wooden floors creaked under your feet as you tried to navigate your way with limited sight. You eventually found the door you were looking for and pushed it open. 

Your chest heaved with a sudden influx of emotion, the night finally breaking your walls as you fell into the bed behind you and sobbed.

JJ on the other hand, was panicking. Not only was John B under pressure if Topper pressed charges, but JJ was pissed about the way your brother had spoken to you. After all you guys had been put through, to turn on each other was the worst possible outcome. 

He tried to help clean John B up and get him to bed, knowing his best friend was hurting, but JJ couldn’t stop thinking about you. He felt stupid, like he should’ve run after you, chased you down and taken you home. 

He stood in the doorway of your room at the Chateau, heart breaking at the sight of your empty bed. JJ had a strong exterior most of the time, but you were easily his weakness. He took a deep breath before sitting down on your neat bed, letting the cry finally escape his throat as he broke down.

Little did each of you know that the other felt the same way, letting emotions go in the other’s childhood rooms. Surrounded by memories of each other because at the end of the day, home isn’t just a place, it’s a person, a feeling. And that’s plenty to lose.

--

tags: @strawberryfolks @jinxfirebolt18902 @lnnlove@itsmytimetoodream @dazzlingnights @ifilwtmfc @itsmytimetoodream @multiifandomhoe @tenaciousperfectionunknown @deargenevieve@kaylinfayezink@insideurm1nd@rana030

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[bathomet-writes]

relax

summary: During a movie marathon at your place, Raph and you unwind and have a quiet night in. Lots of cuddling, hugging, and body slams.

relationship: Raph x GN!reader

warnings: romantic, fluff, humor, stimming, light hurt/comfort, sleepy cuddling, established relationship, sfw

word count: 4,105

author's note: this is a request for @/m0om0obell!! i might have projected a little bit onto this lol...but i hope u like it!!

“Hey,” You whisper, setting down the bowl of popcorn. “Can you do that thing?”

Raph briefly tore his attention from your TV. “That…thing?”

He stares blankly at you, slightly unsure. You were both relatively quiet for the last hour or so, fully engrossed in your bi-weekly movie marathon. Your request came sort of out of nowhere. 

It was a cute little tradition you and Raph shared. Of course you loved watching movies with the other turtles, but even you needed a break from the whole group every once in a while. He would show you some of his favorite movies, you’d show him yours. You’d both react with varying levels of excited interest, or mild confusion. You were usually the one who made Raph concerned with your weird taste in cinema. A lot of obscure comedies…and sometimes horror, if you could sneak it in. 

At this point, you were knee-deep in the John Wick franchise since tonight was Raph’s choice. You loved anything with Keanu, obviously, but for some reason seeing all the wanton physical violence was making you antsy. Not nervous, just restless in general. The decent thing to do would be just to get up and walk around a bit, loosen up your tense muscles. But there was that other thing you and Raph did that you couldn’t really do with the other turtles. 

You heave yourself off of the groove you carved into your couch, letting a couple stray popcorn pieces fall from your shirt. 

“Yup, the thing! Beat me like an old rug.” You grin and step out into the open area of your living room. 

Raph’s eyes flit around, perturbed by your analogy. “Uh, if you say so? I don’t mind throwin’ ya around, but why–”

He stops as he watches you rearrange your more breakable furniture. Which was…well, all of it. You set the lamps and various knick knacks in a laundry basket and quickly scooch your couch aside. Once the stage is finally set, you give Raph a shrug. 

“It helps me relax. Now ‘John Wick’ me.”

Letting your body go slack, you turn on your heel and trust fall into Raph’s strong embrace. He chuckles, easily holding you up. 

“You don’t really want me to slam you into the wall, right? And then find every sharp object I can and fling it at your face?” He jokes. 

“That does sound tempting,” you hum, moving your arms up. “Maybe tone it down a bit.”

Like clockwork, Raph slides his hands under your arms and scoops you up. He cradles you delicately, carefully like one would treat a baby. He even puts his palm under your head, making you feel positively nestled. 

Then, he bodyslams you into the floor with a loud THUMP.

The photos hanging on your wall shake from the impact, and the popcorn bowl teetered dangerously close to the edge of the coffee table. 

“Woo! That’s the stuff.”

Raph didn’t really use his full force, he didn’t think he had it in him anyway. Just some playful roughhousing was all it was. Lightly (in reality, it was actually pretty harsh, but this was in Raph terms), he digs his sharp elbow into the middle of your back. You feel your spine stiffen, almost painfully so– before you both hear a loud pop. Another huff of relief escapes your lips, letting Raph know you were doing just fine. 

“Jeez, you need to see a chiropractor.” Raph smiles, lifting you up. “Get ready.”

“I know, but this is much cheaper.”

In an instant, he flings you into the air. You smile contentedly as you sail, reveling in the sensation of being suspended, until you’re grabbed by Raph again. Wrapping his arms around your midsection, he essentially just gives you the tightest hug you think you’ve ever gotten. Nearly all the wind in your lungs gets squeezed out, but it felt nice. Maybe this was a form of stimming, you were still kind of unclear about why you liked getting handled so roughly. You were just happy that Raph was so down to indulge your needs. 

You don’t really notice when Raph angles your bodies back up, with him sitting on the carpet and you in his lap. In the background, John kept dispatching High Table lackeys with ease. 

“That looks so fun. I wish I could be a stunt person, get paid to have Keanu Reeves beat me up!” 

Your voice uses up the last breath you had stored, and you let out a tiny, high-pitched wheeze at the end. Raph eases up on the hug and allows you to take a much-needed inhale. After just a couple of moves, you were satiated. He knew even when he was giving you the most diluted form of his strength, you needed some respite. His orders, not yours. 

“You need more?” He snorts, waiting for you to give him an answer after a couple of deep breaths. He puts a gentle hand on your back and attempts to soothe you back to normal. 

His tender touches make you relax again, and you practically melt into him. If only you could have Raph on standby wherever you went. Work, going to the grocery store, what have you.  You would use any excuse to be physically intimate with him. 

You mumble and debate with yourself, throwing up your hands to weigh your options. “Eh, I think I’m good for now. Thanks, big guy.”

You knew he wasn’t really used to being so casually violent with anyone who wasn’t his immediate family. Despite not being a mutant or a ninja, Raph thought you were actually pretty sturdy. Or at least had a higher pain tolerance than most. Whatever it was, he was glad he didn’t really have to worry about accidentally hurting you or anything. You were a tough cookie, if not a little odd. Your taste in movies was honestly a little stranger to him than this. 

Raph’s gaze dipped from the screen back down to you. “I have served, I will be of service.”

He shoots you a subtle smirk. Looking up at his smug expression, you don’t miss the clever reference he just made. Your eyes remain locked for a couple more seconds, and you try to decide the best response. You should probably know other John Wick quotes, if you were paying attention the last 4 hours or so. 

But watching Raph’s mouth curl into a slow, steady smile was making you a little distracted. You hated whenever he did that, especially when his fang poked through. And he knew it was your one and only weakness, the fiend!

“Damn it.” You scoff, playfully shoving his face away. “You win.”

Raph grins even harder, gathering you up into a regular, loving hug. One that hopefully wouldn’t squeeze you anymore than you needed to be tonight. 

“I mean it, I’m glad I can do this for you. To you?” He quirks his head to the side. 

“Yeah…” You knit your eyebrows together, all of the sudden feeling your tension fading away. It was being replaced with something else, something you didn’t want to have happen right now. 

You were sleepy. And a yawn was building up in your throat. No, you still had a movie and a half of action-packed thrills to get through! Not like this…

After an internal battle, you eventually stretch out your tenderized limbs and let out a loud yawn. Why was relaxation such a close relative to tiredness?

“Hahh…No, no I didn’t mean it! I’m not tired.” You argue. 

However, Raph had already swept you back up into his arms. “Too late! It’s happening.”

You had a sneaking suspicion that he was taking you to bed, but when you felt him reach over to pause the movie, that was the nail in the coffin. Your comfy, pillowy coffin.

“I’m not sleepy. And even if I was, I’ll just fall asleep on the couch and lean my head against your arm, all romantic-like. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

Your body continues to disobey you. Eyelids growing heavy, the familiar feeling of tranquility warming you up. Your bones became jelly. Knees weak, arms spaghetti. 

“It’s already too late, your bed is right over there…” Ralph’s low, sing-song voice only made you even more relaxed. 

Once he lays you delicately upon your sheets, you fold. You felt syrupy, like thick molasses, your brain becoming dulled with fuzzy thoughts. All your movements were slowed as you lazily kicked off your socks. Thankfully, you were already basically in your pajamas, or else Raph would have surely had to help your change.

Not that you wouldn’t mind that…

“Why are you so soothing?” You whine. His big, surprisingly cuddly body and mere presence was making your vision blurry. He was like a balm for the soul. 

Raph only responded by carefully crawling onto your bed, the mattress having long since lost all its spring. It was sort of a sad, saggy mess of pillows now, but it felt extremely comfortable nonetheless. And supportive. You haven’t exactly slept next to him before, but Raph definitely sat with you on your bed plenty of times. Mostly to just show you internet videos and whatnot, or to chat. You two could talk for hours if you wanted, but right now your faculties were dwindling.

Once you get all comfy and cozy, fluffing the pillows and rearranging the blankets to your specifications, you get antsy again.

What, did you need a glass of warm milk or something? What was making you so weird all of the sudden? The bed was cool, but not cold. Just the way you liked it. And of course Raph was next to you, curled up into his own little nest. 

“You okay? I can move if I’m crowding ya…”

Despite literally all the other perks of sharing a bed with you, the closeness, the comfort, the intimacy, he kind of hated how big he was. He took up nearly all of the space, even with part of his body still on the floor. Right now, he was just kneeling beside you, resting his head on your mountain of stuffed animals you kept in the bottom corner of your bed. It was his little area you made up for him, a courteous gesture that warmed his heart every time he saw your room. 

You sigh, shifting around to find a better sleeping position. Maybe you were just lying wrong. 

“You’re fine, I’m just kinda— I dunno.” You move to lay your head on your folded arm. 

You were usually a side sleeper, and a chaotic one at that. Another reason why you never really liked to sleep with Raph, or anyone for that matter, was because you sort of thrashed. And starfished, your legs needing the entirety of the bed to feel comfortable. And you snored. You were a real Sleeping Beauty. 

“This is gonna sound weird, but I feel…weird? I know that makes no sense.”

“S’not weird. What’s up?” Raph chirps, lifting his head off of your various plushes to meet your eyes. 

You knew he understood what you meant by ‘weird.’ It was like being tossed around, the physical repetition made you feel normal. Made you feel a little less out of place. Sometimes, usually for no reason at all, the world would feel off its axis. The weather would be wrong, or an overhead light would be too yellow. Silly things that shouldn’t bother anyone nearly as much as it bothered you, but they did. You couldn’t put it into words, and it took a lot of time for you to talk to Raph about it. 

But, once again, he accepted you with an open mind and an open heart. And open arms. Just a lot of openness all around. And you were eternally grateful to him.

You roll your head around to look at him at the foot of your bed. His eyes looked slightly unsure, but his kind smile put you at ease. 

“It’s hard to explain, but I just can’t relax today. I don’t know what it is.” You admit. 

Before you could even ask, Raph’s arms creeped their way back over to you. You accept them, moving your arms around to hold his head as well. You felt a little bashful, being so touched-starved. But you needed to feel Raph, even for a moment. 

“What do you need? Do you wanna talk, not talk?”

You shake your head. It really wasn’t that bad, at least not so bad that he needed to do his little spiel. You hadn’t had a full-on breakdown in quite some time. But this was different. 

“No, it’s not that. I just need to move, but my body won’t let me!” You give him a crooked smile, weakly waving your legs around. “I feel so stupid.”

Immediately, Raph shushes you. “You are not stupid.”

He waits until you look him in the eye again, before going on. It’s a firm but loving look, making your heart flutter. You think he’s about to lecture you when his resolve breaks, his eye ridge rising to give you an affectionate smirk.

When he speaks, his tone is resolute. It sends a shiver up your worked-out spine. 

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are. I’m serious too,” you murmur. “I’m sorry. I know when I get like this— Woah.”

You didn’t realize it, but Raph was slowly moving to fully sit on the bed. His spiky shell was cushioned by your many pillows and plushies, shielding your wall from any damage. Before you know it, he has you cradled in his arms again. Only this time, he was actually holding you. 

No, he was rocking you? You felt your body being swayed gently back and forth. 

“Raph, I didn’t mean…” You frown, trying to hide your blush. “I’m not complaining, but I didn’t think you’d actually—“

“Rock you? Of course I would.” He states flatly, almost dismissively.

How the heck did he know…?

You didn’t tell him you actually liked to be held like this? Well, you’d like Raph to hold you in whatever way he pleased if you were being honest. But the swaying thing was something you did when you were by yourself. If you were having trouble falling asleep, you would usually play some ambient music or something. But the physical sensation of being rocked was enough to knock you out cold. 

“You’re kind of scary when you read my mind like that.” You fidget with the fabric of your oversized shirt, whispering into the curve of Raph’s shoulder. 

You hear him say something, and your head bobs back up. Dang, he was good. 

“Wha?” You sputter. 

Raph chuckles, staring into your eyes. Although it was becoming harder and harder the more your eyelids droop. 

“I said you read my mind sometimes too. Like when I’m hungry, you’re right there with a snack. Or if I’m feeling lonely, you shoot me a text. Or call me. If you aren’t already right next to me,” he smiles, reminiscing to himself. 

You try to actively listen as Raph drones on about this and that. The soft rumble of his voice in his chest, the body heat emanating from him, all of it lulled you deeper into slumber. Your concentration was hanging on by a thread, struggling to keep yourself awake. It had been ages since you felt this tired. Or rather, sleepy. This felt much more like ‘sleepy.’

“I get how you feel, by the way. Sometimes I need to go work out or punch a wall if I’m feeling stressed. Even if I’m not feeling stressed, it just feels nice to do.”

Raph takes the opportunity to look around your bedroom again. The only source of light was coming from the hall, a sliver cutting across the floor, up to the wall. You had a lot of stuff, it was actually kind of funny. Raph had a lot of stuff too, but his room was mostly full of exercise equipment or stuffed animals. He thought it was a little weird, but you insisted that it wasn’t. 

Maybe he should take his own advice every once in a while.

You had a lot of movie posters hanging from the wall, among other magazine clippings and such. It was a collage of your personality. A couple months ago, he wouldn’t know what half of the posters were. But after your movie nights, he could at least name some of them. Your room was what a kind person would call an ‘organized chaos.’ Everything had its place, but your method of organizing seemed to be just stacking things until they couldn’t be stacked anymore. A couple of piles of books and clothes littered the floor. 

Raph had been absentmindedly rocking you, his body going to autopilot. He wasn’t sure how long it had been exactly, but he continued. 

For a moment, he feels a snicker come on. It felt kind of like he was rocking a baby to sleep. Not that he really knew what that felt like, he didn’t really know any babies. There was that woman in Times Square who shoved her baby into his arms and took some souvenir pictures. The memory was sort of bittersweet to him. Like the only reason why anyone would allow him to hold a baby was because it was a novelty. Nobody in their right mind would let Raph, the spiky, lumbering oaf that he was, actually hold anyone. Not anyone that deserved so much love and care. 

Your soft mumblings rouse Raph, and you seem to almost talk in your sleep. It startles him a bit, but he stays calm. 

“You’re like…the best. I feel so held, you feel like home. Like from Midsommar, only for real. Y’know?” 

Raph gulps, feeling awkward for the first time tonight. Did you know you were a sleep talker too? He guessed you wouldn’t really know that kind of thing, but it was fascinating. Raph wanted to stay up all night to just watch what you did when he wasn’t around. Totally not in a creepy way or anything!

He’s almost afraid to say anything, lest he disturbed you. He wanted to let you sleep, or do whatever you needed to do. Did you guys always quote so many movies around each other that you did it in your sleep? You were so cute, even like this. 

You snuggle closer to Raph, your arms instinctively curling around his waist. They didn’t come anywhere near wrapping around his entire body. Raph had to bite down a guffaw when he felt your fingers ghost over the area between his plastron and his shell. 

“Gheh—!” He shudders. 

He wasn’t normally so ticklish, but the current situation found him a little…vulnerable.

In your mind, the only thing you could think about was clinging onto Raph. He did so much for you, and you wished you could help him relieve half as much stress as he did for you. You hoped you did, you knew you did. Insecurities aside, all you wanted to do was hold him. Cradle him. Even if your puny arms weren’t big enough.

“Do I feel like home to you? Do you feel held? I want to hold you…” Your words tumble out of your mouth, slurred and dripping with sleep.

There’s that movie again. Why did you keep bringing it up? Raph wanted to tease you, maybe flick you in the nose. But he wouldn’t dare. That movie was actually pretty good, minus all the insanely disturbing parts. Those lines must have really resonated with you for some reason. 

Still, Raph gave your half-awake ramblings some serious consideration. Of course you felt like home to him, it went without question. The being held part was a little less straightforward. And a little more blush-inducing. 

Even if you were currently holding him, your arms snaked around his waist and everything. 

Softly, Raph speaks up. His voice cracked a bit with a bashful hiccup. 

“I, uh— I guess I do feel…held.” 

You hold him even tighter. 

Raph blushes even harder.

Despite being mostly asleep, you had an impressive amount of strength. Enough to make Raph take notice. It didn’t feel desperate or needy, more like one person trying their best to make the other feel secure. 

Deep down, Raph knew. He would tell you some other day, when you were more awake, that he did sometimes feel like he needed a break. Not that he didn’t love supporting you and his family, not at all. It was just…

“I put so much pressure on myself. I’m getting better about asking for help, but when you’ve gotten by for so long without asking, it’s sort of weird. I don’t hold it against anyone, but I wish someone was there to—“

Raph shook his head, he didn’t even know what he was talking about really. Even so, he felt bad for letting off steam like this. But you probably weren’t even listening anymore. The soft sound of snoring down below made it pretty obvious. 

With the utmost care, Raph tried to tuck you back into bed. He thought if he just moved out from under you, you would slide back into your spot on the mattress.

The bed squeaked a bit as he crawled away, making him stop. 

“Phew…” He sighs, gently starting to peel you from his body. 

You didn’t really want to come off though. 

“Huh.” 

Your arms were locked in place, refusing to be removed from Raph’s person. A few seconds of mild struggling was all it took for him to give up. He smiles, a warmth spreading through his chest. 

“I guess I’m not going anywhere.”

He settles back into his spot, pillows and stuffed animals still in place, before letting his mind wander again.

He almost wished you were awake, so that you could talk some sense into him. You were really smart, and one of the people he trusted most to vent to. Venting was good, it let you get all the weird thoughts out of your brain and out into the air. A weight still sat on Raph’s shoulders, so he looked back down to you.

You looked so calm and peaceful, snoozing away. Raph’s seen you take naps before, but watching you sleep was a bit different. This was your room, your private space. It was a great honor to him that you let him into it so easily. 

Slowly, your arms begin to go slack and ease off. Raph watches on as you turn and get into another sleeping position, one that had you facing the door instead of him. His heart drops a little when he feels your absence. 

He wanted– no, needed to have your arms around him again. 

It felt like he didn’t deserve it. Or he didn’t deserve to have so much of you. Raph had to stop himself from getting lost in his guilty thoughts as he inches closer to you. 

As his face got closer to yours, he watched to make sure he didn’t wake you. You must be a pretty heavy sleeper. Once you were down, you were down. 

Looking at you was stirring up all kinds of new feelings within Raph. Admiration, serenity, a profound bond that couldn’t be broken. All his intrusive thoughts and worries didn’t mean a thing when he was next to you. 

Without a sound, his free arm reaches up and encircles your waist, pulling the two of you together. His plastron was nearly flush with your back, and his knees were close to hitting the back of your thighs. The position was almost a little too intimate, Raph wasn’t familiar with how your body felt like this. He felt even more uncomfortable with what to do with his own, but he couldn’t pull away. 

You made him feel cozier and safer than anyone else. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, a yearning hidden behind his words. 

Wordlessly, you stir. With the last bit of consciousness you had left, you move your right hand down from underneath your cheek to lie on top of Raph’s. You give him a light but reassuring squeeze, clutching at his large fingers. It was your way of saying ‘no, thank you.’

When you do so, Raph’s eyes welled up with tears. They had been building up for a while, but your hand was so soothing, enough to let him let out all the pent-up emotions he was holding onto. He wasn’t one to cry easily, but you meant so much to him. 

Raph and you together, it just made sense. 

taglist: @saspas-corner

[aylacavebear]

She Thought She was Normal

And the plot thickens...

Story Summary: Maria really thought she was normal, for most of her life. It was normal for people to have natural talent, she would tell herself the older she got. Many things came easy for her, and that was probably how their rivalry began when she was five and he was seven and she met the Winchesters. Little did either of them know that it wouldn't stay like that forever, both having a far larger destiny than they could imagine

Word Count: 2904

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Childhood Rivalry, Mention of Murder

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

Chapter 4

The stay at Bobby’s lasted longer than she thought it would but she wasn’t about to complain. She loved spending time with her Uncle and Sammy. It was Dean who brought out a side of her that she didn’t enjoy. He had attempted two more challenges, one being target practice with a gun at a distance of fifty, seventy-five, and one hundred yards. He was pretty good.

The two of them had a tie for the first distance, but after that, she beat him, which again annoyed him. She knew the difficulty of the challenge but this time, she didn’t say anything, not like with the knife throwing. It was the second challenge she enjoyed more than she thought she would, a “friendly” fight to see who was better. Bobby had supervised, wanting to keep an eye on the kids for that one, knowing it could have easily gotten out of hand. 

Dean hadn’t counted on her being as agile as she was, constantly dodging him, and always finding his weak spots. She would watch him, the way he moved, quickly pinpointing the easiest way to take him down. Maria never hit him, just pinned him to the ground. After the fifth time, Bobby called it. Dean walked away with a sore ego, but that was all. This time, Maria let herself have a smug expression from winning, especially when she got congratulations from Sammy, which really annoyed Dean.

Before any of them knew it, two months had passed from the day they had arrived at Bobby’s. The angel book Maria had snagged the first night she was there was still under her pillow, even though she’d read the whole thing three times. There was something about the book and the information that she was drawn to but no matter how many times she read it, it was like she couldn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together, and no adult she could talk to about it. She’d also read several other books from Bobby’s massive collection but hadn’t been able to find anything else on angels. There weren’t many things that frustrated her, but this whole angel thing was.

It would be another month before the purr of the Impala showed up at Bobby’s, somewhere around early evening. Maria had been in her room, her lessons done for the day as well as her routine. At first, she thought she’d imagined hearing it, but when she heard footsteps outside who were already in the house, she ran out and into the living room, and saw her father and John there.

“Dad!” she exclaimed, running up to him and practically tackling him in a hug.

William laughed and wrapped his arms around her, “Hey munchkin,” he said softly.

John wasn’t nearly as affectionate with Sammy and Dean as her father was with her, but she’d never say anything to him about it, thinking it rude to tell someone how to treat their own children.

“I need some new books, Dad,” she chuckled as she looked up at him.

“Oh? Did you get through everything I left already?” he asked her, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup,” she said proudly, “And Uncle Bobby had to pick some books from his collection. They were very interesting.”

William glanced over at Bobby, “Don’t worry Will, they were at her level,” he said, reassuring his brother-in-law, who nodded, “and that girl is too smart for her own good.”

William glanced down at her, then put his hands on his hips, “Where’s your knife?” he asked.

“Under my pillow, with my gun, but I always keep this one on me,” she answered, pulling out her boot knife, which was also silver.

“That’s my girl,” he said proudly.

“Are you hungry, Pappa?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

“Starving,” he said, in an exaggerated tone, which made her giggle.

“Then I’ll make dinner,” she said, trying not to giggle again.

He fluffed up her hair, which made her laugh as she wiggled away from him and into the kitchen to make the same meal she’d made the first night she was there, but now, she’d perfected the seasoned fries.

William sat down on the couch opposite side from John and looked over at Bobby, “How did things go?”

“Her and Dean have that rivalry between them, but I think it’s been good for both of them, even if she beat him,” Bobby explained, glancing into the kitchen. The boys were outside being boys at the moment, so he wasn’t worried about them overhearing anything.

“What did they do this time?” John asked.

“Knife throwing, target practice, and a friendly fighting match, which I supervised. That girl, I swear. She’s gonna be one deadly hunter when she’s older,” Bobby said, sighing slightly.

“Have any of her abilities surfaced?” William whispered, not wanting her to hear.

“Not this time. Just the few she already had, like never missing her target, her photogenic memory, and that damned intuition of hers. It’s almost scary how she can put information together the way she does,” Bobby explained, again glancing into the kitchen.

“She really beat Dean in a fighting match?” John asked, trying not to chuckle at the thought.

“Yeah she did, girl pinned that boy five times. Dean walked away with a bruised ego, but that was all. She never even swung at him,” Bobby answered, chuckling quietly.

“Then that would be another one,” William sighed, leaning back and looking at the ceiling, “She can see weaknesses now, damnit.”

“With how slow they’re developing, she probably won’t get anything big till she’s close to an adult or a bit older. Alarra did a good job putting that block in place when she was born Will,” Bobby told him, as softly as he could. He knew Alarra was still a bit of a sore subject.

William looked over at him, “You know, she never grieved. She told me she didn’t want to be sad when she remembered her mom. She only wanted to feel happiness, that was when I picked her up from here after her first visit.”

John and Bobby both raised an eyebrow, “For a five-year-old to think like that, might be a good thing, with what she is,” Bobby suggested.

“Look, Will, I haven’t spent a lot of time with her, but that girl, damn. I’ve never met any kid who is that respectful, disciplined, and still knows how to act like a kid. The way she is with Sammy is something I can’t give him and he needs that. You’ve done a damn good job with her,” John told him.

“I can’t take all the credit,” William smirked slightly, “Alarra helped for the first half of her life so far,” saying her name again almost made his voice break.

Bobby glanced in the kitchen again before he looked back over at William, “Has Zamariel shown back up, since her birth?” he asked quietly.

William sighed and looked down at the floor. It had been ten years since he’d even heard that name spoken out loud, “No, and she goes by Mari. She’s probably in hiding, for what she did. You know they’d kill her and Maria if any of them ever found the two of them, right.”

“Yeah, we know,” Bobby sighed.

Maria was humming to herself as the burgers, bacon, and fries cooked, not paying attention to what the adults were talking about in the living room. This was one meal she had perfected while she’d stayed at her Uncle’s this time and things were getting close to being done. She set the table before she went outside and rang the dinner bell that Bobby had gotten for her during the first week of this particular stay, then headed back into the kitchen. The sound of it surprised William and John, which made Bobby chuckle.

“She asked for a dinner bell so she didn’t have to holler when she was done cooking,” Bobby chuckled, “How could I say no to that?” 

Both John and William practically laughed and then shook their heads a bit before heading into the kitchen. Maria turned to them, spatula in hand, “Nope, go clean up, then you can eat,” she told them, acting almost like a stern mom.

William almost couldn’t contain his laughter at her behavior when the boys burst through the door, making a beeline for the bathroom, causing John to raise an eyebrow as he watched them run by, “What the hell…” he trailed off.

“They know I won’t let them have any unless they clean up first,” Maria said proudly, spatula still in hand.

This time, John laughed hard, a deep sound coming from his core, “Might have to have her around more often. Those two normally aren’t that behaved.”

William looked over at his daughter for a moment, too proud for words. She reminded him so much of her mother, not just in her appearance, but in the way she acted. He smiled slightly, having no clue how to tell her what he was feeling, “I’m proud of you munchkin,” he said softly before he and the other two adults headed to the bathroom to clean up.

Maria smiled, hearing her father’s praise, but she knew there was more to it, even if he couldn’t say it. She could see the pain behind his eyes of something she couldn’t quite understand. She finished up dinner and got it on the table while the five of them washed up, which amused her a bit that they had all done so. It had only taken one good swat with the spatula during her second week there on both Sammy and Dean for them to realize she hadn’t been joking about them not getting anything till they had washed up.

The only two who hadn’t tried this particular meal were her father and John, and both were surprised, “Are you gonna open a restaurant when you grow up?” her father asked her, teasingly of course, knowing she wanted to be a hunter more than anything.

“Dad,” she groaned, rolling her eyes.

He chuckled, “Well, with how good of a cook you are now, it’s an option for you,” he said, a bit encouraging.

“That would be boring,” she replied before eating another french fry.

“Why do you think it would be boring, sis?” Sammy asked, looking over at her, not understanding.

She always thought it was cute when he got curious. He was only eight after all, “Think about it. Stuck in a kitchen, all day, just cooking for strangers who might not even appreciate the effort it takes to make something taste good,” she explained.

The adults watched the interaction between the two, not only amused but also proud, “I guess you’re right when you put it that way,” Sammy said, after thinking about what she’d said.

Dean just rolled his eyes, not even wanting to admit how good dinner tasted. The girl could cook, but that was just a piece of it. She was smart, funny, kind, and above all else, she was annoying as hell to him. He’d gone back to where they had done the knife-throwing challenge almost every day since then, practicing, attempting to hit the target she had hit with ease. He’d gotten better, but it wasn’t nearly as good as she was. Whether either of them knew it, this was the kind of push that Dean had needed for him to gain the skills that he would need later on in life. The only thing he had ever wanted to be was a hunter, like his father, the family business.

John looked over at Bobby, “So, how does clean up after dinner usually work around here?” he asked, curious as to what the routine had become.

“At first, Maria would just clean up, taking care of everything, but in my eyes, that wasn’t fair to her,” he began, glancing at the boys for a moment, “Then, I had the boys do the clean up, no matter how much they protested about it in the beginning.”

Both boys looked down at their plates, not wanting to meet their father’s gaze, which they knew had fallen on them, “Is that so? They gave you a problem about it?” he asked, sounding disappointed in both of them.

Bobby sighed, “Only the first couple of times. When I threatened them with having cereal for dinner while Maria and I ate what she cooked, that’s when their attitudes changed. Even I did clean up a couple of times,” he explained.

“Still, that’s not how I raised the two of them,” John said, still sounding disappointed in their behavior.

Maria felt bad for the boys, even Dean, whom she found utterly annoying most of the time, “Please Uncle John, don’t be mad at them,” she asked as respectfully as she could. He may not have been her blood Uncle, but John and his boys were family to her, no matter how she felt about certain things. She pursed her lips together, wanting to find the right words, “I know that sometimes it takes time, with a new routine. They’ve both been very helpful since then though, even helping set up the table before I finish cooking sometimes.”

John raised an eyebrow as he looked over at her. She never ceased to amaze him, “You make a valid point. Then…” he glanced at his boys again, who had looked up briefly, but then quickly looked back down at their plates, “I’ll let that one slide, this time.”

She could see the relief on both their faces, but at the same time, she saw the glare Dean gave her. Maria looked away and went back to eating, knowing he was mad cause she stuck her neck out for them and even got their father to back off of something he would have given them hell for. For Dean, that was the icing on the cake of reasons why he didn’t like her.

After dinner, the boys cleaned up while Maria did her few night chores while the adults sat in the living room having drinks, talking about the yellow-eyed demon that they still hadn’t found and the trail had gone cold again. 

“Come in Pappa,” Maria said about a half hour later, hearing her father walking on the other side of her door. He hadn’t even had a chance to knock yet.

William stopped dead in his tracks, realizing another of her abilities had surfaced, one Bobby hadn’t seemed to notice. He took a deep breath before he went into her room, “How’d you know it was me?” he asked her.

“I don’t know, I just knew,” she replied as she looked up from the book on her desk.

“How long has that been going on?” he asked her, sitting down on the edge of her bed, which was made neatly.

“Not too long after you dropped me off here this time. Why?” she asked, tilting her head a bit.

“I was just wondering, that’s all,” he replied, and knew he had to find a way to shrug it off, “Does that annoy Dean too?” 

She giggled a little, “Yeah, so I did it as often as possible,” she replied, then frowned a little, “Is that bad, to annoy him on purpose?” she asked.

It was her father’s turn to chuckle, “As long as you don’t make a habit of it or take it too far munchkin.”

That made her feel better as she let out a sigh of relief, “Any luck on finding the demon?” she asked, curiously.

He sighed, “No. The trail went cold again. This one is smarter than any other demon we’ve hunted before.” Maria thought for a moment as she watched her father, “If there were other demon books, maybe I could help with research,” she suggested.

“We’ve been doing research for five years and still haven’t found anything munchkin, not sure where to even look for a more detailed book,” he replied.

She sighed and looked at the floor, “It’s not fair, that there isn’t somewhere that would have a book about a yellow-eyed demon,” she grumbled a little.

William looked away from her and at her door, taking a deep breath through his nose, then let it out slowly, “I’m sure there’s one somewhere, we just haven’t found it yet,” he tried to reassure her. He had kept her away from anything that had to do with the Men of Letters, knowing how curious she was about knowledge and there were things within that that she wasn’t ready to learn yet, not at ten, “We’re heading out in the morning, so pack up tonight.”

“Yes, Pappa,” she replied quietly.

She waited until he left her room before she sighed. She loved hunting but at the same time, she loved being at her Uncle’s as well. At least now she understood a little bit more about Sammy’s struggle and what he was going through. Maria slowly packed up her belongings into her bags. When she got to the book about angels she had stashed under her pillow, she just sat on her bed looking at it as she thumbed the cover. She knew she couldn’t take it with her, not wanting to risk her father finding it in her things, so she decided she’d sneak it back into his collection after the grown-ups had gone to bed.

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

Chapter 5

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67

Link to the master list for this story.

[specialagentlokitty]

Sherlock x reader - days with you

Hi! Could I please request a Sherlock x reader, where she is really adventurous and always drags him on little trips like picking trains at random and seeing where it takes them. She’s also the kind of person people just talk too. He finds it incredibly endearing and adorable. So he happily drops whatever he is doing to follow after her to the shock of everyone. She’s kinda like his sunshine sorta? If that makes sense, sorry if thats way way to much. Love your writing btw!!! - Anon💜

You were scrolling through your laptop, bored as anything while you were listening to Sherlock mumble on about not having anything to do.

“Why not go out somewhere?” Mrs Hudson smiled.

You looked up at her and grinned as you put your laptop away and rushed to pull your jacket on.

You grabbed sherlocks and tossed it over to him with a huge smile on you face as you grabbed both his and your wallets, taking the keys from the side as you held your hand out to him.

“Come on!”

“Where?”

You gave a small shrug and wiggled your fingers at him.

Sherlock said nothing as he pulled his jacket on and walked over to you, letting you take his hand and drag him out of the flat as you shouted bye to your landlady.

You were practically bouncing with excitement as you walked.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.”

Sherlock furrowed his brows a little bit as he glanced down at you before looking back at the street.

“You don’t know where we’re going do you?”

“Nope!”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, he wasn’t shocked you didn’t know. You would tell him about your random little adventures, and sometimes you would drag him along.

He hasn’t come on one of your random adventures in a while, so he wasn’t sure what to expect this time, last time you took him shopping.

“You know I could be doing other things.”

“But you’re not.” You beamed.

You let him go so you could get to the underground and he followed you to the train.

You jumped on a random one, and sat down while he sat next to you.

He scrolled through his phone while you kept track of what stops your were passing.

You finally found one that interested you and you urged Sherlock to follow you, as he did carried on looking through his phone.

You had a light grip on his hand as you simply just wondered the streets, and finally you found something that looked interesting to you.

Sherlock finally put his phone away and looked at what you were looking at.

“Book store?”

“Yup! Let’s see what they have!”

You took him inside and finally let go of his hand as you started to browse some of the sections.

While you did Sherlock was stood behind you the whole time, occasionally looking at a book that you showed interest in.

While he was looking at some books for you, he heard you talking to someone and looked up to see who it was.

He didn’t know them, and you didn’t seem to recognise them either but you looked pretty happy to just be talking so he left you be.

He went to buy a few books and held the bag in his hand as he walked back over to you still chatting away with someone.

“Hey Sherlock! This is Mark, he works at this shop part time, he studies criminology isn’t that cool?!”

Sherlock hummed a little bit.

“It isn’t the worst of choices to study.” He replied.

You rolled your eyes at him and bid goodbye to your new friend before letting Sherlock lead you from the bookstore.

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

“Uh… yeah. Can we get food now?”

“Pick a place.”

You picked a small cafe and Sherlock went to order your food before sitting back down, handing you a cup of tea.

“So what did you buy?” You asked him.

“Oh, right. Here.”

He handed you the bag to look through as his phone started to ring.

He excused himself and answered it, getting up to bring your food over before he sat down again and listened to whatever was being said on the other side.

“I’m busy Lestrade.”

You looked up in curious.

“Give John the case, I’ll look when I am home.”

Sherlock huffed a little before replying to the detective again.

“I don’t care, I’m out with (Y/N), you can wait.”

With that he hung up while grumbling and you smiled a little bit at him.

“Sherlock if you need to go we can head back.”

“No, it’s fine. That can wait.”

“Are you sure? It sounds like Lestrade could really use your help.”

“He can handle it himself, he’s a big boy. Now, where are we going next.”

You smiled at Sherlock and took a sip from your tea.

You gave a small shrug as you looked out of the window.

Sherlock kept his eyes glued on your smiling face, and he cracked a small smile as he watched you simply just watch the outside world go by.

You were always so happy, so content, and it made him feel at ease.

He had been waiting for a case for days, but he would never give up a day with you just for a case

[tzatairovic]

"when have you heard an actress's career being compared to an actor's outside of these two"

Quite often actually, usually by people who clearly have never been in or seen a romantic relationship up close.

Emily Blunt vs John Krasinski

Melissa McCarthy vs Ben Falcone

Blake Lively vs Ryan Reynolds

Jada Pinkett vs Will Smith

The first two being "leave him, his career is not good enough" and the second two being "she's only famous because he's famous".

One, the internet weirdos don't know what is successful in the entertainment industry. I have actor schoolmates starring in shows and others working in stores in between auditions. Being able to pay your rent without a second job is a win in that business. Two, people think a good relationship goes as far as two people who "match" like Ken and Barbie. We don't know these people to even know why they like being with each other. But "has a career that's exactly like mine" isn't on the list. I know that for sure.

Zendaya's great, but when you read or hear her describe herself as a person, not just her as a tall pretty successful artist, I really don't understand the "out of his league" comments. She's super picky, anxious, introverted, and doesn't want to leave the house. I'm the same way. That's actually something that could make or break a relationship. Starring in some things that didn't get great reviews has what exactly to do with being a good partner in life?

Two actors careers shouldn't be compared at all. Period. Comparing two actors' careers to judge their relationship from the outside is beyond immature. Everyone, grow up.

Yup, that’s the point I was trying to make-there’s no example where it makes sense or is valid to do that

I was ready to agree with everything you said, but the second to last paragraph felt off. I do agree that “the characteristics” you mentioned can influence the success of a relationship, but not in the way you described. They don’t make someone less valuable, especially since many of them aren’t things a person chooses to be

[astranite]

This was originally meant to be for that prompt. the Virgil one. Ummm and I don’t know where it went, somehow its more Alan and Gordon. It almost completely avoids the prompt. Its probably not that great. Yeah Im running on about 5 hours of sleep because I stayed up last night to finish that Scott and Bereznik thingy. Now Im tired and my brain just isnt. Yup. But sticking it up here anyway because ‘hey two cakes.’ Maybe Ill fix it up at some point. Or something.

------

Alan couldn't see Virgil from where he was standing. He was too short, too small and the concrete dust obscured everything. Only part of Scott’s back was visible, the blue of his uniform turned greyer than his baldric. 

Oh yeah, and Gordon’s blond head, right in his face. Deliberately placing himself between Alan and his big brothers who needed him. He was doing it on purpose. Like he was trying to protect Alan from his big brothers. 

Scott’s voice was harsh and snappy at John over the comms. Alan couldn’t make out the words but he could hear him. He wasn't the calm Commander anymore, not the Scott who charged into missions as their leader. Alan knew exactly what a worried smother-brother-hen sounded like. He’d heard it every single time a brother was injured, but usually Scott wasn't so mad. Scott only got angry like that when he was scared.

John’s response came cool and professional. His brother was giving Scott orders all the way from space, and by how Scott’s shoulders dropped, he was following them. 

The comms screeched with static, drowning John out and maybe John was freaking out in amongst it too. He didn’t know.

Alan needed to know what was going on. Just to see for himself that his brothers were alright and everything was going to be fine.

Each time he tried to step around him, Gordon moved with him. One side, then the other. Alan tried to fake him out, go for the left then dart to the right, but it was like Gordon predicted exactly what he was going to do before he did it. 

Couldn't Gordon just turn off the squid sense for a second? And then let him through. He wasn’t even looking at Alan.

They’d both seen the bridge come down.

Alan took a deep breath, squeezing his hands into fists. He was being childish and impatient. He was a rescue operative, he should be helping or something, somehow, but he just needed to see his brothers first.

Alan shoved past Gordon and caught a glimpse of what was happening metres away from him. A set of green booted feet stuck out at an angle. Virgil’s boots.

Gordon pushed him back. Alan threw his weight against him, because something had happened and no one was letting him see.

Strong arms wrapped around his middle and picked him up so only his tiptoes were brushing the ground. His arms were pinned between them. He writhed in Gordon’s grip, kicking at his brother’s feet but Gordon didn't react. Because Brains had just happened to build hard toe caps into his dive booties like he had for the rest of them. The over engineering was serious.

The tubes of Gordon’s rebreather against IR blue filled his entire vision. Alan glared at at them. Just stupid Gordon and his stupid scuba gear, keeping him away from Scott and Virgil. 

Alan suddenly let his entire body go limp, forcing Gordon to hold up his dead weight unless he decided to let Alan go and save them both the trouble. But nope, Gordon tightened his grapple until Alan couldn’t drop an inch, because he was the fish who swum a thousand laps of the pool a day and had the muscle to show for it.

Sharp curses in the background cut through their struggle. He could hear a grunt of pain he was pretty sure was Virgil, then a tiny choked off noise. What was happening? Gordon was still blocking his view.

The stupid, cheery yellow of Gordon’s baldric mocked him. It was the only sunshine left in this place and it was keeping him from his big brothers.His heart was pounding and didn’t Gordon get how scared he was? 

Alan growled and smacked his fists against Gordon’s chest. Not hard enough to hurt him, he’d never actually want to hurt him, but hard enough that Gordon would fucking know he wasn't happy. 

“Stop wriggling, Allie,” Gordon murmured, and he sounded so tired.

“Just let me go. I have to see them,” Alan gave his brother one last shove. “Please.”

“We can’t do anything for either of them right now,” Gordon said softly, “We’d just be in the way.” 

Gordon was right and he hated it. No matter how good of a rescue operative he was, he was still the youngest, the baby of his family. His older brothers didn't want him to see them in pain. But half the time that just made him worry more. 

Alan slumped. Their grapple of Gordon trying to stop Alan from running headfirst towards his injured brother, shifted into a hug. Gordon holding him close was now his comfort rather than enemy. 

Virgil would be okay, Scott would make sure of it. He had John too. His brothers would be okay. As soon as they got back to the island and Virgil’s injuries had been treated, Alan would be giving him a big hug and not leaving his side again.

[kuwdora]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @deerna and @jawanaka !

How many works do you have on A03? 110 - but this would probably be +200 if I had been crossposting my fanvids there. I still remember when video embeds did not work on AO3 pages. But that was ages ago. And I’m terrible at crossposting. Especially when I have so many to crosspost at this point.

What's your total A03 word count? 280,783

What fandoms do you write for? In the past it was Stargate SG-1/Atlantis, Heroes and Sanctuary and a lovely romp with Being Human UK. Star Trek. These days I’m still on The Witcher, with the occasional fleeting non-witcher stuff I manage to finish.

What are your top five fics by kudos? I can see through you, The Witcher Netflix. My Geralt and Jaskier role reversal thing. More like a role inversion.

Surface Tension, The Witcher Netflix. soft very established relationship Geralt/Yen/Jaskier smut.

Papa’s Got a Brand New Suit, Star Trek: Deep Space 9. Julian/Garak PWP. From ye olde porn battle days. Learning Curve, The Witcher Netflix. Yen/Jaskier, post-season 2 soft feelings and sex with an emphasis on all of Yennefer's pain.

Heart Tap, The Witcher Netflix. Leshen Eskel(/Geralt). My first story about what it could be like for Eskel to live with his transformation into a monster. I'm actually surprised this is in my top 5 kudos considering how niche it is but man I love my tree boyfriend and have so many more thoughts about him that I haven't gotten out yet...

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I try to respond to comments when I can. Sometimes it takes forever and sometimes I do forget to respond to comments but man I love rolling around in them.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My angstiest endings are for fic that I haven’t finished or posted on AO3 yet for more of my witcher fixations. But for posted things?? Hmm. I do have an old Heroes fic called Code of Hammurabi that is Peter/Sylar time travel AU that’s particularly angsty and gave me the chance to rummage around in the way Peter would endure in a very very messy situation.

Oh, my Doctor Sleep ficlet is also pretty angsty. Danny reflecting on his time with Billy when Billy's ghost shows up. I'm smiling upside down is the name of that ficlet.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh that’s probably my smutty fluffy thing for Being Human. PWP. Moon Mambo, Hal/Tom.

Do you get hate on fics? No, but I sense that’s only a matter of time before someone directs their hate at me.

Do you write smut? Yup.

Do you write crossovers? Yes, but not for a very long time. I have a “Ciri collects all the young girl protagonists from sci-fi/fantasy books for a group project” crossover idea but my focus is too scattered to get that going. I did start it with a Nona-meets-Ciri Locked Tomb/witcher crossover here: Call to Adventure.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I’m aware of. I think my stuff is far too niche and self-indulgent for that kind of thing but who knows. The internet is a smaller place these days but people seem to find new ways to steal. Alternatively: I did learn that someone submitted one of my Stargate SG-1 vids to a Creation Con fanvid contest that had prize money in it. That was very upsetting to learn well after the fact.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, not co-written. But I do love rolling around with my beta and workshopping my fic into better shape and a lot of my stuff ends up way better as a result of my betas. And I also love doing the same with folks who ask me for beta. It’s a fun kind of collaboration.

What's your all-time favourite ship? Agh this one is so hard. Don’t make me pick just one. Aeryn/John from Farscape. Fraser/Ray(s) from due South. I don’t write a lot of book Yennefer/Geralt but they also are It for me.

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Oh my god, definitely my TWN Leshkel canonical divergence AU thing. I have something like a whole season 2 (not a fix-it) outlined, with lots of stuff focusing on Ciri and Leshy Eskel, and Leshy Eskel with Triss. With more stuff about witcher-and-leshen biology and Wolf School disappearing, Kaer Morhen becoming a magical greenhouse where a mythical Swallow is rumored to visit every 6 years.

What are your writing strengths? Description, maybe characterizations. Theme and tone.

What are your writing weaknesses? Too much description, comma splices. Slow pacing.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I think it’s fun to do but it can be a lot to read and I definitely will overthink the writing and both the reading. If it suits the characterization and context clues within the text, I think that’s cool. But I think it’s fine to go without con-lang or other languages in fic. It’s just a matter of texture and color that adds to the scene, you know?

First fandom you wrote for? Stargate SG-1.

Favourite fic you've ever written? Ever??? It’s so hard to pick just one. Hang on, I got several of those ‘rec 5 of your favorite fics’ asks in my inbox. Lemme see if I can pick 5 for that.