#+ you did not ask but i want to mention the easiest to write was the clark scene!! i did alter it quite a lot as i was writing it

[acourtofthought]

"Why was Gwyn even in the BC if SJM wasn't intending to make her Azriel's endgame??"

Idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

Why was Azriel wanting to get on his knees for a taste of Elain and pulling her hair back to kiss her if SJM intended on ENDING them in a BC?

It's not like they had any of those types of scenes anywhere else in the book. But yeah ... sure... SJM chose to end Elriel in a BC by writing the hottest, most anticipated almost kiss scene in the entire series ..... instead of you know.... not mentioning them at all....

“You drove me mad,” he growled, and the sound trembled down my neck, along my breasts until they ached. “I searched for you, and you weren’t there. When I didn’t find you,” he said, bringing his face closer to mine, until we shared breath, “it made me pick another.” I couldn’t escape. I wasn’t entirely sure that I wanted to. “She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,” he snarled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. He brought his lips to my ear. “I would have been gentle with you, though.” I shuddered as I closed my eyes. Every inch of my body went taut as his words echoed through me. “I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.” He said my name like a caress, and his hot breath tickled my ear. My back arched slightly.

I cried out as his teeth clamped onto the tender spot where my neck met my shoulder. I couldn’t move—couldn’t think, and my world narrowed to the feeling of his lips and teeth against my skin. He didn’t pierce my flesh, but rather bit to keep me pinned. The push of his body against mine, the hard and the soft, made me see red—see lightning, made me grind my hips against his. I should hate him—hate him for his stupid ritual, for the female he’d been with tonight … His bite lightened, and his tongue caressed the places his teeth had been. He didn’t move—he just remained in that spot, kissing my neck. Intently, territorially, lazily. Heat pounded between my legs, and as he ground his body against me, against every aching spot, a moan slipped past my lips.

More—I wanted the hardness of his body crushing against mine; I wanted his mouth and teeth and tongue on my bare skin, on my breasts, between my legs. Everywhere—I wanted him everywhere. I was drowning in that need. His nostrils flared as he scented me—scented every burning, raging thought that was pounding through my body, my senses. The breath rushed from him in a mighty whoosh.

Sarah couldn't care less about your "hot" scene when she's written hotter in the actual books and they still weren't endgame. Not when she constantly had Az thinking on how wrong it was to be with Elain, how she was too innocent and hopeful, how he couldn't think of a single thing he liked or admired about Elain.

Not when you still can't say with certainty that the reason she was aroused is because she could scent her mate in the house and Az was the easiest outlet for her (at Nesta's insistence she "go out and fuck strangers") because she's being stubborn. A typical Archeron trait.

Sarah writes lust well, but Sarah writes romance even better and you did not have romance.

Accept it and move on. I know Az and Elain did when it's been months and they've shared zero interactions since then. He sure had moments with Gwyn after Solstice though, didn't he?

[boyfridged]

hiiiii what’s your personal favorite scene from burning money and which was the most difficult to write?

hi mar! ♡

my favourite scene is rather unassuming; it's the brief flashback in which jay asks if willis' gun is real, and willis replies that it is not... it's all about willis succumbing to the world of violence so that jay does need to; about willis striving to protect his innocence. this is also what marks that definitive difference between him and bruce, who instead wanted jason well-versed in that world, equipped to fight it and to protect himself. willis would not care much for that argument; he still finds it unacceptable. of course, i show only his side of the story, but knowing the batman canon, i trust bruce's intentions (aforementioned) are also clear. so, in a way, this scene uncovers a conflict of values, a dialogue that does not happen as an actual verbal conversation in-text (for many reasons, some of them purely technical, like the flow of the story).

as to the second question -- there are two scenes that i found difficult -- both of the cemetery scenes. for most of the story, grief sticks to the everyday routine, and there are barely any explicit mentions of willis reckoning with it; it simply is. the graveside as a setting is, in comparison, so total, such an obvious representation, no additional symbolism nor themes to hide behind -- but perhaps specifically because of that i was struggling with finding the right tone for them, as well as the right balance of descriptions and dialogue. + the second one of them constitutes the ending, so there was even more pressure! and i can only hope that from the readers' perspective that conclusion felt well placed.

[backinmyphase]

Not your husband

Summary: You are going to marry the Satoru Gojo. A dream come true right? Well when he doesn't even show up to the meetings to arrange your marriage, it becomes clear that it's more a nightmare.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3040 words

Next part Masterlist

Sane Geto AU (I am an Angst writer, but not like Gege. Please excuse any errors in my writing)

The world of Jujutsu was never a world for you.

Born into a clan, which only saw your value in your technique. Born into a family, which only saw your mistakes. Born from a mother, who had the same problems but still resented you.

Born into a world full of curses but still being told you were the biggest of all.

"Don't daydream, you will make a bad impression. And you really can't afford that."

The woman in front of you isn't pleased. She isn't since she knew she wouldn't give life to boy.

It's hard as woman in a Jujutsu clan.

It's not about how your technique can help you, it's about how your technique could help your son at exorcising curses.

"Yes, mother."

She frowns as she looks at you. Displeased she fixes her posture a bit, signaling you to do the same. You obey.

"You can't afford to make any mistakes today. Just do as I told you. I can only hope you have learned anything."

As you nod you realize what all this means. The dress kimono you are wearing. The expensive tea that is ready to serve. The hairpin you have gotten from your mother, who did your hair today.

All of it becomes so real.

Your husband has been decided.

"You won't say anything, until you are being asked." The woman hissed. "And please keep a smile on your boring face, then it at least looks not so simple."

You never discovered your technique and what you could do with it. It wasn't easy. Knowing that everything you did would result in you being married of.

And as you sat here in this big room with your mother, you could only wonder.

Who would your husband be? Could it be someone who understood you?

Someone you could love?

As the door opened you saw your father who looked onto the ground as he spoke.

"They are here."

Your mother only nodded, as your father closed the door. Just a few minutes later the door was opened again.

And a beautiful woman stepped inside.

She smiled at your mother as she took a seat in front of her. But the smile was the same as the smile of your mother. And maybe the same of your own.

As she sat down on the opposite side, you served the tea. The best tea your clan could afford.

For a man that didn't seem to have come.

The woman gave an apologetic smile. "My sincere apologies, but my son... Well he is in a bit of a rebellious phase, which lead of him disappearing before this meeting."

Your mother's smile faded a bit. "Does he know of what importance this meeting is for our clans?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, he knows." She slightly eyed you before she spoke again. "He just doesn't care."

Silence flodded the room. It was like a cold hand slidded down your back as you realized.

"I hope the Gojo Clan will show more interest in our connection. We will be very disappointed if not." The smile of your mother was just as cold as the hand that seemed to choke you.

This was Mrs. Gojo. The mother of the strongest.

Gojo Satoru.

The one who seemingly stood above anyone. The one who jumped at every opportunity to mess with the higher ups.

Who will be your husband.

And he didn't even show up to meet you.

"Of course. He will learn." The woman sighed as she spared you a glance again. Then she smiled that smile again.

And you mirrored it.

"Your future husband isn't the easiest person." The woman sighed as she looked at you. "Even as a baby he knew what he wanted and how to get it."

Not knowing how to react you just nodded.

The woman laughed at that. "But no worries! Even though he is... Difficult, you will love him. He has that effect on people."

Your mouth dried up at the mention of love. How could this woman talk about love at the table your arranged marriage would be discussed? How could she talk about love when you didn't even have a saying in this arrangement? How, when you will marry the strongest?

Satoru Gojo?

"I really hope that he will learn." Your mother smiled while taking a sip from her tea. "He should know that his actions are what keep the Gojo Clan still important. He shouldn't throw that away."

The tension grew a lot, as Mrs. Gojo mirrored the smile and took a sip of the tea. "Well at least I brought him to our Clan. In the end that's the biggest thing a woman could achieve right?"

It was sick. We lived in modern times, but the Jujutsu Society was still so far behind, floating under the radar, with the excuse of making the world a better place.

"It's true." Your mother sighed as she lowered her cup. "The strongest really is the biggest achievement you could have ever accomplished. Being the parent of such a child... But I wonder..."

Your mother now didn't even try to hide her distain. "Why does his mother not have him under control?"

Klirrr

"Because." Mrs. Gojo's hand shook as it held the broken cup. The sharp shards cutting into it. "As a boy, he can have this freedom."

The black tea in your cup grew cold as long with the atmosphere in the room. Your mother stood up and left the room without a word. Her steps filled the silence in the room. And as she closed the door the woman in front of you sighed.

"Difficult woman, isn't she?" Mrs. Gojo let go of the cup shards while hissing. Her mask no longer in tact as she didn't smile anymore.

"Well who isn't?"

She looked at you surprised and then chuckled. "I guess you are right."

On the same day the arrangement was consolidated. It was official.

You will marry Satoru Gojo.

~~

"Suguru, how could this happen? To me?" Satoru whined as he complained to his best friend. "It all has to be a bad joke, right?"

"No, it sounds like a normal thing in jujutsu clans. I'm just confused why you didn't have any saying. You know, as the strongest." Suguru didn't look up from his book as his best friend groaned.

"That's what I'm saying! I don't give a damn about this whole clan thing."

As they were sitting in the park near their mission, they of course already finished not even breaking a sweat, the sun slowly set.

"It is a really bad system. How the clans only strive after power and never consider the lives of their toles." Suguru muttered as he turned the page.

"And now I have to marry a random girl I don't even know!" Satoru groaned again and buried his face in his hands.

"And she has to marry you." Suguru sighed.

Satoru looked at him slightly annoyed. "What do you want to say? Just say it."

"Well, I am sure, she is just as horrified as you at the sound of marriage. I'm just saying you could at least try to get to know her."

"I'm not going there." Stubbornly Satoru shook his head. "Never. I'm not giving them that satisfaction."

Suguru looked up at his friend and now he shook his head. "I pity your soon to be wife."

Offended, Satoru turned to his friend. "Hey! I'm your friend in need here!"

Suguru placed his bookmark gently in his book and then closed it. "Just promise you will show up to the wedding."

Satoru grinned. "Why? You scared of the higher-ups for me?"

"Not for you." He stood up as he looked down at his friend.

"For your wife. If an arranged marriage isn't going well, you know who gets blamed. And what you're doing is just cruel to her."

Gojo didn't say anything as he put on his blindfold.

~

"Do I look pretty?"

You didn't dare be louder than a whisper. "Mother?"

Her sigh gave you confirmation that she wasn't pleased. As she looked you up and down, her frown never disappeared. "As long you don't make that face, it's passable."

She stood up. "For a wedding you look... I just hope your husband will like you at your best."

"Soon to be husband." you corrected her quietly as you looked in the mirror.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She raised a brow but nodded slowly. Then she paced through the room impatiently. "That woman still hasn't given us any signs."

"Mrs. Gojo is probably seating the guests." a little part of you wanted to defend this woman. Your future mother in law.

"Or the groom makes problems again." your mother shook her head, like always when she spoke about the young Gojo.

After he didn't show up to a single meeting, she was sure that Mrs. Gojo didn't raise him right and that she as his mother should be blamed.

It was so pathetic. How you already felt his displeasure, his hatred towards you.

"Mother?"

"What is it?" she was annoyed.

"What was your wedding like?"

...

"Just like this one. It's tradition in our clan." her face was stone cold.

And you felt sympathy for her. She also had an arranged marriage. A wedding in which she didn't have any saying. A husband who she never chose.

"It's the bride's moment." The voice of Mrs. Gojo halled through the room.

Your mother smiled at you. You smiled back.

"Just don't mess it up."

~~

There were too many guests. Mostly people you didn't know. And all of them looked at you, while you made your way to the altar.

Under their stares you felt small.

But there was also this man. This guy with white hair, that stood at the end of your path. This boy that refused to even meet you before the wedding.

He gave you a glance and then continued to stubbornly look straight ahead.

As you stood before him, he didn't seem to be here with his thoughts.

And at this moment you knew he didn't want to marry you. No, you knew that before. But you knew that he would never open up or try to make this work.

And you didn't want that.

"I do."

No, you really didn't. And as he spatted the same words you knew that he was lying too.

~~

"Oh, you lucky girl!" The old woman, you didn't even know, said.

The after ceremony was not nice. All the guests wanted to talk to Gojo and some, not many pestered you. What really stung you was that they made more effort to talk to you than your own husband did.

"To marry such a handsome man." she looked at you and smiled knowingly.

"Of course it's an honor to marry Gojo Satoru as he is an important figure for the jujutsu society." Everything you said sounded like a broken record that lost any meaning.

She chuckled. "You can be honest with me. An heir will be on the way shortly, right?"

You hated this talk about an heir. Hated, hated, hated this people that keep telling you to hurry up and sleep with this man that didn't even look at you.

"We will see."

She laughed at that. And somehow you managed to excuse yourself from the conversation.

The rest of the evening was torture, but you somehow survived. Gojo didn't talk to you. He just disappeared at some point, leaving you alone in the cave of the lions.

His mother was right. He was a difficult person.

You hated that you had to ask around to be driven to his estate. Hated, that he didn't open the door, it was the personal chef that was going to leave. Hated, that you stood alone in this cold house.

He seemed to like to leave you alone. To just go.

You didn't want to sleep at this house. You didn't want to, but where should you go? Where could a place be, where you could hide?

Gojo had places. Not you.

You slept on the couch that evening. Your wedding dress was still on, as you didn't know what in this big house was to wear for you.

~~

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Satoru didn't like to hear that from his best friend, as he stood at his doorstep.

"I just need a place to sleep."

"I said to go to the wedding." Suguru felt like babysitting a toddler.

"And I did."

"Then why are you here? And not with your wife at your house?" Suguru slowly began to lose his patience.

"Can you just let me in, you ass?"

After shaking his head, Suguru opened his door wide enough to let Gojo in.

"Why are you here?" he wasn't going to make it easy for Satoru to forget he left you there.

"Had enough."

"You're such a child." Suguru shook his head. That's what ticked Gojo off.

"Stop it!" He threw his shoes on the floor.

"You can't judge me! Not when you don't know how it feels to have your future stripped from you just because you have been born in this family!"

Suguru kept silent this time.

~~

Your things were shiped to this mansion you should now live in. It wasn't a lot but your necessary clothes. Finally.

Finally you could take the dress off.

The clothing that reminded you that this was real. That your reason in life was already fulfilled and now you should just cease to exist.

No, that wasn't true, was it? You still had to bring an heir.

Will you ever get used to this new prison? You doubt it.

It was so big and cold. So many things but it didn't have this personal touch. It felt empty, unloved. Did Gojo even live here?

Well it seems like he wouldn't if you were here.

It was stupid. You didn't know him, just saw him yesterday for the first time in person. And still it was so clear he wouldn't make it easy for you.

You felt unloved.

"A letter, Mrs. Gojo."

The sudden voice blew you away from your thoughts. Another thing you wouldn't get used to. There were servants for the Clan leader. Like this girl. They were only needed in the kitchen, but it still felt wrong.

And something felt so wrong with being called this name.

"From who?"

The girl before you had a pitiful look. "Your mother." She cleared her throat. "She said, it's about your arrangement."

As you looked down at this paper, it felt like cursed energy was coming from it.

"Oh. Alright, thank you." Hesitating you took the letter.

The girl just nodded and made her way to the kitchen. The silence in this house was haunting.

Again you looked at the letter in your hands, and wished it was only paper. What should you do from now on? How would you spend your life?

Well obviously not with your husband as he wasn't even here.

And you would make sure that he didn't see the letters from your clan.

~~

"You're here." Satoru Gojo didn't seem pleased to see his wife in his house at this evening. Rather displeased, the way he frowned like a little child.

'Well.' you thought. 'That's to damn bad. He should have come to the arrangement hours.'

"Yeah. I have to be."

He didn't even look at you. Humiliation after humiliation. What would your child self say? Seeing that your own husband didn't even look or smile at you? The hopeless romantic would be crushed.

And now they definitely are.

"I see." His voice was barely audible. Oh, what a humiliation this must be for him! The strongest! Not even in control of his own marriage.

You really should pity him. Be understanding. Like the good wife your mother wanted you to be.

But you didn't have the strength to do that. No, you didn't sympathize with this man, that stood in front of you. The one who had the privilege of doing what he wanted till now just because he was blessed. Because he was born a boy.

And you were not.

"My things were brought this morning and Hina showed me around. I already-"

"Who is Hina?" Gojo sounded confused.

"The servant girl. The one who helps to cook?" you couldn't believe him. She even told you that she was working here since 3 years!

"Oh, yeah she. Continue."

You didn't like his tone, you didn't like his attitude, you didn't like that you didn't knew anything about him BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SHOW UP TO ANY-

"I already have my own room. I won't bother you." While trying to keep the bitterness down you started to whisper.

"What?"

As you looked up at him, your mind went blank. For the first time Satoru looked at you. With his big blue beautiful eyes, he looked at you. So mesmerizing that you almost forgot about your bitterness towards him.

Almost.

"I already have my own room. I won't bother you in any mean. We can also eat separately. In fact I would prefer that."

He snorted. "That's childish. Not even eating together."

And that broke the straw. The straw your patience was hanging on sooooo desperately.

"You." you poked his chest with force. "Can't tell me what's childish or not."

Your voice grew a bit. "You can't, not after not attending any meetings, actively trying to get away from me on our wedding day, leaving me alone for our clan people, leaving me alone for the night way to a new house I have to call home now!"

He kept silent. Like all the times you saw him.

"SO EXCUSE ME." You made your way to your room, shouting to make sure he knew what you said.

"IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL! AND IF I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!"

You slammed the door with force.

You don't think your husband will ever even like you. Or if Gojo would ever even be your husband.

[captain-huggy-bear]

A Little Misunderstanding

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)

Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊

Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.

Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.

"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.

"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.

"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.

"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"

There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.

"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."

"Of course, of course! We love you!"

"Love you too, mum."

"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.

"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."

"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.

"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.

"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."

Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.

"...Shut up."

The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.

"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."

"Eager?"

"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.

"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"

"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.

"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"

"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.

"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.

"...I hate you."

"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.

You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.

It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.

"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.

"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.

Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."

"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.

When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.

She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."

"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.

You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.

"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.

"Quinn!"

"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.

"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).

"Mum!"

"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.

"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"

"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.

Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.

"He's such a gentleman..."

"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.

"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"

"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?

"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"

"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.

Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.

"I play for the NHL."

"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.

Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"

You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.

"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.

"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.

"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.

"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."

"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."

"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."

He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.

"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"

The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).

The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.

It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.

"So Quinn, when did you know?"

"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.

"When you loved my daughter."

There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.

"Expected answer or honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.

You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.

You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.

"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"

"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.

"What?"

"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"

"After dinner, baby."

You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.

You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.

Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.

When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.

Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.

Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.

It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.

"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"

"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.

Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.

Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.

"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.

"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?

"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.

"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.

"Quinn..."

"What?"

"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.

He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.

"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.

"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."

"Quinn..."

"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.

"Q..."

"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.

"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.

"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.

"Is it?"

"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.

"And now?"

"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."

"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.

"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.

"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"

"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.

"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

"Fuck...that sounds good."

He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...

"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.

"Anything for my girl."

He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.

"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.

"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.

"Yes."

"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.

"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."

"And you love me for it."

"Yes, yes I do."

Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.

[xmalereader]

Bruce Wayne x Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

REQUEST: Could you please write Burce wayne x male reader who has trouble ordering food. Like in a restaurant when the waiter asks, he either stutters or goes completely quiet, and that's why he asks Bruce to order for him. And i would like to see Bruce's reactions when a waiter is like "you don't have to order for him. He can order for himself. I wasn't asking you, i was asking him" just the waiter assuming that Bruce is kinda controlling. The reader is silently crying in his seat, having to order on his own, like he knows the waiter was trying to do something good. (Totally not speaking from personal experience 🤭)

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Fluff, mature language, social anxiety, Bruce is a good boyfriend, mentions of fears, judgment, request, relatable events, everyone struggles.

TAGS: @one-green-frog

WC: 1.5K

NOTES: I used to struggle with ordering food due to anxiety and fear of people judging me 😩 but as I got older they fear kind of went away and I’m able to do it with no problem but everyone deals with anxiety differently and takes time to get come it so I ain’t judging. It’s like that with my older brother he’s 26 and still makes me order for him due to his own anxiety. But hopefully you enjoyed this shot and apologize for the long wait!

Everyone has social anxiety.

Y/n struggled with it at a young age, not being taught how to speak with others in public without getting the intense fear of judgment from others. He figured that he would improve as he got older, but it didn’t change and still struggled with the simple things. He could go out and run errands alone without any struggles since majority of place now had self checkout which was a god send for many.

He’s able to hold a conversation with strangers or with people he knew in the area, but his anxiety would get to him when it came towards the simplest tasks. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was an over thinker and would think that he did something wrong or if he perhaps pronounced something incorrect, thinking that people were judging him for the smallest things. It took time for him to improve but the anxiety still remained during important moments.

One of the easiest things that many were able to accomplish is ordering food. Their were times that he hesitated or froze up when ordering his own food, having to apologize each time he orders and forcing a nervous smile or laugh in hopes of getting through the few minutes that he is there. He struggled even more when he went out on dates.

Very few people knew about his anxiety and very few friends were kind enough to do the ordering for him without hesitation and providing the assistance that he needed. With strangers it was a whole other story, he didn’t want to force them into placing his own order due to his own fear and would struggle with speaking the words.

His dates never went well after that and hated the way he felt each time he stumbled upon the problem. If the waiter or waitress wasn’t staring at him intensely he’d probably order his food without a problem and his day would go fine. But the feeling of their eyes staring at him as he looked at his choices of food made him stutter and grow nervous when ordering.

Forcing that smile as always and getting through the day of embarrassment.

If he had this kind of anxiety how was he suppose to handle his future dates when he couldn’t do a simple task? He’s able to do a whole presentation in a room full of board of directors but he stutters and hesitates when it comes towards ordering a simple meal or even asking for help whenever he’s in public.

He figured he’d spend his days locked indoors while making his own meals while watching a good movie.

He didn’t think he’d end up bagging Bruce Wayne. Gothams Golden boy.

Y/n had thought that this was all a trick or a joke when Bruce first asked him out. He wanted to laugh at the mans face and tell him that he doesn’t need to make his life miserable by playing a mean joke, only to realize that Bruce was in fact not joking around.

Y/n worked at Wayne Enterprises but in a lower department not expecting himself to bump into Bruce Wayne and getting asked out by the man himself. Their first date was simple with a cup of coffee and muffins. He would have thought that bruce would take him someplace fancy on their first date, but when he didn’t he was a bit relieved.

Bruce was a great man and didn’t do anything that made him uncomfortable. Y/n figured that he’d only get lucky to have one date with bruce and then never see them man again, only to get asked out again and again and again. The first four months went well without any problems and enjoyed his time with Bruce as their time together grew their dates slowly got fancier.

Resulting into Y/n confessing to Bruce about his anxiety and fear of others judging him because he couldn’t do a simple task that only required a few words. He thought Bruce would laugh at him or use it against him and force him to confront his fear, instead Bruce smiled at him and asked.

“Do you want me to order for you?”

He said it with the most calmest voice ever showing no hints of judgment.

Y/n wanted to cry that night. It was a simple favor, but it meant a lot to him.

As their dates continued they created a routine each time they went out to eat. Y/n would either look up the menu online ahead of time and already have his order in mind and tell bruce before getting their orders placed. Bruce even memorized the dishes that Y/n liked whenever they went to a repeated restaurant and would for him on the spot without needing to be told what he liked, already knowing the mans interests.

A year into dating and it became a normal thing between the two.

During their one year anniversary, Bruce decided to take him to a new restaurant and getting seated in a nice secluded area and away from others. Y/n scanned the menu and hums. “This looks good.” He speaks up as he checks the different dishes until one caught his eye.

“You know the rule, order whatever you want.” Said Bruce, always reminding him that he can get whatever he wanted. Y/n was hesitant about the prices at first but with time he got adjusted to the idea of Bruce paying for everything and no matter how many times he tried to pay himself, Bruce had already paid ahead of time.

“This pasta looks good.” Y/n points out on the menu and shows Bruce who looked up form his own menu and smiles. “Is that all you want?”

“Can I also get this for dessert?” He points behind the menu where a picture of a nicely desert is presented, getting Bruce to chuckle as he nods his head. “You better share with me because I already know you won’t eat it all.” Y/n laughs at his words and sets his menu down, leaning back in his seat as he looks around the restaurant and takes in the interior, distracted by the place that he doesn’t notice the waitress coming over.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yes,” Bruce smiles at the women and starts with his order first, letting her know what he’d like. “And for you?” She turns her attention to Y/n who gets his attention pulled away from a painting he was staring at and looks at her with wide eyes. “I…”

“He’d have the pasta and the chocolate desert.” Bruce is quick to cut in when he noticed Y/n freeze up.

The waitress gives Bruce the stink eye by how he interrupts Y/n. “You don’t have to order for him. He can order for himself.” Bruce froze with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth in shock. “I wasn’t asking you I was asking him.” She points her pencil at Y/n and puts her attention on him.

Y/n can only gap at her, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to speak but I can’t. He was caught off guard and reached out for his menu. “I’ll like…the—the…” He’s stuttering and doesn’t know what to tell her. “Do you need another minute?” She asks which only make the situation worse, he’s turning to Bruce and staring at him with eyes full of fear and hesitation silently screaming for help.

“I assure you miss my partner would like the pasta and desert.” Bruce says again in hopes of getting her to note down the order and she does, not without rolling her eyes which only makes Y/n whine.

“Your food will be ready soon.” She said while taking their menus and walking away, leaving them in silence.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say, she probably thinks you’re an asshole now.” He groans out while covering his face with his hands. Bruce can only chuckle while shaking his head and reaching out to grab him by the wrists. “Don’t be, not everyone knows about your fear and besides she was only doing it because she probably thought I was controlling.”

“You’re not!”

“She doesn’t know that. If I wanted to be asshole I would have yelled at her like other people do, but I’m not doing that. It was a simple misunderstanding.” Bruce reassured Y/n as he held his hand and smiles. He didn’t think that something like this would happen since they’ve never had this issue in the past at the other places that they visited.

“All you have to worry about is eating all of your food and sharing your desert.” Bruce tries to lighten up the mood which works for Y/n as he chuckled and nods his head. “Fine and then after we go home and watch a movie and not come back here again.” After this misunderstanding its most likely he doesn’t want to come back and face the same issue again.

“We stick with Jimmy’s…” He mumbled out, referring to his favorite restaurant that serviced amazing chicken wings and fries. Bruce laughs while nodding. “Next time we go out will go to Jimmy’s.” At this point they were already considered regulars that the owner memorized their orders, which made it better for Y/n.

[honeytonedhottie]

what i learned during my reflection period⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🧖🏽‍♀️🎀

as you may or may not have noticed, i've been hiatus for most of the month now. and i disappeared because of personal reasons, and one of those reasons being that i felt i needed to reflect. here are some things that i've learned and realized during my reflection time.

this is quite personal to me, but i wanted to kind of have a heart to heart with you guys and im sure that someone is probably struggling with what i mention in this post so i hope this is comforting...💬🎀

WHY I FELT STUCK IN MY LOA JOURNEY ;

i was literally doing the most and it felt like such a chore at the time. i would force myself to affirm in ways that felt unnatural, i was letting myself get bullied by the 3D, even though i KNOW i dont have to do a thing. i was putting way too much effort in the wrong way.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i took a step back and RELAXED. i did what felt natural again and enjoyed manifesting again and because of that i've had success story after success story...💬🎀

DOING A SELF AUDIT ;

i wanted to take a second and expose toxic behaviors and patterns that i noticed i exhibit and that have started to affect not only my physical but my mental in a very very negative way.

i'd been struggling with regulating my emotions and managing them so i was a walking ball of stress 💀. a beautiful ball of stress but stress nonetheless. i just felt so stuck.

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went through the motions and after having a total meltdown and doing a bit of journalling i released everything, giving myself a completely clean slate once more.

i did a bit of a refresh and did miscellaneous things to make myself feel like im starting again. things like self concept work, changing the theme of my phone, taking an everything shower + bubble bath, having a pinterest makeover and getting a trim on my hair.

i forced myself to drink more water, and go for long walks not only to get some sunlight but to get my heart pumping and push myself out of the depressive rot that i had been in for months internally, but had pushed itself out as soon as summer started.

THE DEATH OF A SITUATIONSHIP ;

i got really attached to this boy 😭 but he was such a piece of work. like he did that hot and cold shit, but i rly rly liked him so i ignored the obvious red flags. but i got to a point where i just felt used and embarrassed. upon further reflection i think i didn't wanna let him go because he was so fine 💀, like 6'5 muscular kind of fine.

no matter how handsome a guy is if he has an ugly personality or if he just treats u badly then hes not fine at all...💬🎀

WHAT'D I DO ABOUT IT ;

i went no contact. thats like the easiest way to get over someone i think lol. i went no contact and i just manifested better things for myself. like being asked out by a bunch of guys and wingstop to comfort myself 🧋

also i focused on what i got out of the whole thing. i got the redirection that i wanted, PLUS i was filled with inspiration for my song writing.

SONG RECOMMENDATIONS ;

i want war (BUT I NEED PEACE) - kali uchis

eternal sunshine - jhene aiko

let you go - clara la san

needy - ariana grande

AT THE END OF THE DAY ;

i wanted to include this section as a reminder that everyone goes through shit. things happen. its okay to be affected by it and its okay to be sad. the most important thing is to not dwell on it too long. remember that you are not a victim and remember how amazing you are BECAUSE YOU ARE. you are amazing and no matter what happens, regardless of anything your gonna be okay and your gonna be in a much better place, it starts with putting one foot in front of the other...💬🎀 (love honey)

[lunaxstrange]

Can we talk about love in orv?

[SPOILERS]

Okay so, I am aware that Kdj loves the "story" but I really wanna point some things out individually because it's 2am and ORV is on my mind.

Kdj had the easiest way out of the 1863rd turn. The most perfect turn (at the time) but he really went I'd let the world burn for Yjh? Yeah, everything is "part of his plan" but let's talk about the 73rd Demon King arc. My man would do anything to make sure Yjh finishes his story. Apart from this, it's the fact that while everyone else dislike any other version of Yjh (even he hates himself lol), Kdj loves every. single. one. I mean 3rd turn (1864th) Yjh? Yes. Hsy's 1863rd turn? Yes. Frickin' Secretive Plotter? Got off to a rough start but yes. You simply cannot make Kdj hate his beloved protagonist. I mean, this man risked his whole existence to make sure the 0th turn is actually the most perfect one. He didn't want Yjh to regress but became his sponsor anyway because it's what Yjh wanted. He would do anything to see Yjh happy. This type of love isn't romantic or platonic or anything else, it's the most inexplicable form of love. Love in its purest form. I'd like to take the time to compare it to Achilles and Patroclus because while we can fight over whether these two were gay or not, we cannot deny the sheer love they had for each other. No strings attached. Kdj is in awe of Yjh.

Yjh. The regressor. The protagonist. The person Kdj loves the most. Yjh had everything (0th turn) but he really gave it all up just to meet Kdj. Suffered the "Hell of eternity" just to see him. Bro didn't even love Lsw the way he loves Kdj. Tbf, 0th turn Yjh didn't know what the real struggle of passing the scenarios without help was but I'm sure he got the gist. Okay, sure, you can call it "curiosity" that led to Yjh keeping Kdj alive during the 3rd (1864th) turn. But my guy didn't choose Kdj to go to Peace Land because he had "someone he loved" like bro, YJH!? THE COLD REGRESSOR??? HE DID THAT FOR KIM DOKJA! Not to mention the fact that Yjh didn't even care that his whole life was a mere novel. He just despised the fact that Kdj chose the 1863rd turn over him. I'm gonna cry. Bro wanted Kdj so bad that he kept fighting the Secretive Plotter. Not only this, he gave up the 3rd (1864th) turn for Kdj too. Went from Supreme King to terrorist just to save Kdj. When everyone else - even Hsy - gave up. After all, what is a protagonist without a reader? The whole astronaut ordeal might've been to "find his purpose" but we can't ignore their connection. He gave up everything he could ever ask for twice (0th and 3rd/1864th turn) for Kdj. The attachment these two have with each other is insane.

I could go on about them for eternity but we have another person to talk about - Hsy. This woman spent 10 years exhausted, stuck in a world-line and body not her own for one person. Even if it's only Hsy with half her memories, she gave up her perfect world-line because she missed Kdj. Just like Kdj loves Yjh, Hsy also loves every version of Kdj. She wanted to meet him, no matter what the world-line. My girl had only a few hours where she was in control and decided to use off all those hours to write TWSA - a story she herself disliked. Hsy wants to see Kdj happy, every part of Hsy loves Kdj. There is nothing a writer could love more than an avid reader who loves their story. And let's talk about the fact that Yjh and Hsy absolutely hate each other. He is literally her creation (more or less) but their relationship is questionable. Why? Because a protagonist has no value without a reader. Kinda like Asuka Ren and Kyrgios Rodgraim. They have no special relationship despite being creator and creation. Since there is no reader, Asuka and Kyrgios are as distant as two people can be. Alternatively, what brings Hsy and Yjh together is Kdj.

I just can't get enough of the way ORV relationships are written. If I had to describe love as a writer, I'd cite ORV as an example.

[justabigassnerd]

Secrets and Their Burdens

Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader

Word count - 21.8K

Warnings - inaccurate police & FBI scenes, drugs, needles, addiction, nausea, mentions of throwing up, angst, kidnapping, swearing, Graceland spoilers, alcohol, guns, murder

Summary - after an undercover mission gone wrong, you are forced to hide a secret from Tim until his curiosity (and jealousy) get the better of him

A/N - hey y'all! I'm so sorry it's been so long since I last posted a fic, I truly have no excuse other than the fact that this fic just ended up being so much longer than I expected (genuinely I'm sorry for the length). like I mentioned before, this is a crossover fic with the tv show Graceland so tbh I'm not expecting this fic to do very well I literally wrote this for me (but I'm more than willing to answer any questions people may have about it). I did have a lot of fun writing it though and I do kinda hope y'all enjoy it too. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

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Being an FBI agent wasn’t the easiest job in the world, especially when a large chunk of your life was spent lying while undercover with some of the most dangerous people in Los Angeles. You had moved into a mixed agency house called Graceland and had quickly formed strong relationships with everyone who lived there. As well as working undercover, you were also in regular contact with the LAPD and found yourself getting familiar with the officers of Mid-Wilshire Police Station, especially Tim Bradford who you had formed a close friendship with despite your attempts to keep some distance between the two of you due to the nature of your job.

“Agent l/n. What brings you here?” You turn around at the sound of Tim’s voice, a smile on your face as he approaches.

“Briggs has got me undercover with some drug dealers who deal with Caza Cartel stuff but there’s this new dealer called Odin whose drugs are hitting the street. I’m here trying to find out if you guys have arrested anyone who deals with Odin’s stuff.” You explain, arms folding across your chest as you watch Tim’s reaction, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in concern.

“Should we be worried about Odin?” Tim asks, not missing how you sighed, your eyes flicking to the floor for a brief second before looking back up at him.

“I’m not sure. Mike is undercover with a bigger drug lord, one we’re trying to coax into starting a new deal with Odin. We’re hoping Odin will show himself at a meet with Bello. Other than that we’re trying our best to target your average back alley dealer to see if they can get us a meet.” You say, feeling guilty that you had no other information. It frustrated you to no end that no one could get any information on Odin and what his plans were. All you knew was that Odin’s drugs were dangerous, and people would die if they weren’t careful, especially when the Caza Cartel figured out that there was a new supplier in town.

“Well, I can help you check our records if you want?” Tim offers, watching as you shake your head softly.

“You got in just after I finished checking, none of the guys you arrested have a clue who Odin was nor did they sell Caza stuff. Just run-of-the-mill drug dealers.” You shrug, sighing as you drop your hands to your sides.

“Hey, if I find anything. You’ll be the first to know.” Tim vows, noticing your dejected expression at getting nowhere with your investigation.

“Thank you, Tim. Anything you might find would really help and I’d appreciate it a lot.” You say, your smile making a small return as Tim returns with a smile of his own.

“Tim, Grey wants us to assist on a call.” Lucy gently interrupts, her gaze flicking between you and Tim as you look over at her.

“Got it.” Tim nods at Lucy before looking back over at you.

“Be safe out there. I don’t want the next time I see you to be in a hospital.” You say with a friendly wink as Tim nods with a soft laugh.

“You too. I’ll see you around. Hopefully not in a hospital.” Tim replies, his tone becoming lighter and becoming a joking tone as he nods before you make your way past Tim to leave the station while Tim watches you make your way out.

“You totally have a crush on her,” Lucy says quickly, making Tim’s head snap around to look at her, a shocked expression on his face.

“No, I do not!” Tim insists, his voice getting slightly higher at the accusation, all while Lucy folds her arms across her chest, an eyebrow raising as she studies Tim’s reaction.

“Okay, sure you don’t,” Lucy says, amused by how her training officer had reacted to her words and vowing to keep bugging him until he admits it.

“Anyone home?” You call through the house as soon as you enter, glancing around as you make your way inside.

“Yo!” You hear Jakes call back, following his voice into the kitchen where he is filling a glass with orange juice.

“Anything fun on the agenda today?” You ask, grabbing a glass and filling it with water.

“Just still dealing with my smuggled bird's case. It’s got to be one of the longest cases I’ve worked and I still can’t figure out how I feel about it.” Jakes complains, leaning against the island as he takes a sip from his juice.

“At least you’re saving birds. They didn’t ask to be smuggled.” You say with a light shrug, laughing as Jakes rolls his eyes.

“You’re way too optimistic. You’re like a Johnny 2.0.” Jakes fires back as you laugh.

“Technically speaking I’m older than Johnny so shouldn’t Johnny be y/n 2.0.?” You question, grinning at Jakes as he scoffs, downing his drink before putting his glass in the sink and walking off just as Mike enters the kitchen still in his wetsuit and hair visibly wet from his morning in the sea.

“Where were you? You missed out on some good waves.” Mike comments, opening one of the cupboards and grabbing the bread, taking two slices and putting them in the toaster as you sigh lightly.

“I headed over to Mid-Wilshire to see if they had any recent arrests that could connect us to Odin but they all seemed to be dead ends.” You say, looking down to focus on the glass in your hands.

���Nothing?” Mike queries, grabbing a plate and the butter while waiting for the bread to toast.

“Unfortunately. But Tim said he’d let me know if they arrest someone who may be of interest.” You say, missing how Mike’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of Tim’s name as an amused smile crossed his face.

“Tim’s definitely got a soft spot for you,” Briggs says with a laugh as he enters the kitchen, also clad in a wetsuit and clearly having heard the last thing you said as you roll your eyes.

“No, he doesn’t.” You deflect, feeling your cheeks heat up as you turn away from the two so you can wash your glass and leave it to dry on the rack.

“Something tells me you have a soft spot for him too.” Briggs teases, crossing to you, slinging his arm around your shoulder and jostling you, ignoring your groan at the dampness of his wetsuit against your clothes.

“He’s a nice guy. He’s helped me on more than one occasion of course I’m going to be nice to him.” You huff, shrugging Briggs’ arm off you as he laughs. You had learned to deal with Briggs’ joking, he had quickly become an older brother figure to you when you joined Graceland. Plus he was the senior agent within the house so it wasn’t like you could get rid of him easily anyway.

“All we’re saying is there’s nothing wrong with liking him. I mean he’s a cop anyway so it’s not like you have to lie to him about your career like you’d have to with anyone else.” Mike says, a slight sadness flashing across his face at the thought of Abby and how he had to lie to her repeatedly about his life.

“You guys can believe I have feelings for Tim but you’re wrong. I was trying to see if they had any links to Odin and Tim offered to let me know if he found anything and that’s it. I promise.” You insist, folding your arms across your chest and leaning against the kitchen counter as Mike and Briggs exchange a look.

“Well, you keep believing that. I’m going to get ready, I’m spending the day with Bello, hopefully, he’ll take our bait and want to set up a meet with Odin after what happened with the Caza torpedo.” Mike says after a mouthful of toast, pointing at you as you roll your eyes at his first sentence.

“I can act as a middleman if Bello wants. You know I’ve already got a cover with him so it would be no water off my back.” Briggs says simply, crossing over to Mike, taking the second slice of toast off Mike’s plate and beginning to eat it despite Mike’s protests. Just before you can respond, one of the burner phones in your pocket rings and you pull it out, sighing as you recognise the number, holding up a finger to silence the bickering between Briggs and Mike as you step away to answer the call.

“What’s up?” You say into the phone, moving to stand near the large windows overlooking the beach, watching as the world goes by.

“Yo, y/n, I’ve been running low on stuff lately and the people from Caza are basically refusing to send it to me, saying something like I’ve been playing them or some bullshit. I need to go to Mexico to meet with some guys there and I’d feel much better having you come with me, I mean you’re badass and can hold your own. Can you come?” You hear the familiar voice of Luca ask, rambling as he fights to contain his nerves. You knew Luca had been rising the ranks among drug dealers and that could’ve been part of the reason why Caza asked him to meet face to face. You had a slight bad feeling grow in your stomach as you think over his question, worrying about what might happen to you but after a minute or two of silent debate, you push the bad feeling aside to prioritise the mission.

“I’ll come.” You say finally, hearing the relieved sigh from the other end of the line.

“Can you get over to mine as soon as possible? We need to hit the road as soon as we can.” Luca asks and you nod slightly before remembering he can’t see you.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll get there as quickly as I can.” You say, listening as Luca thanks you quickly before abruptly hanging up, leaving you staring out the window with the phone in hand.

“Is everything okay?” You hear Mike ask, turning to face the two who are watching you worriedly.

“Luca’s got a meeting with Caza in Mexico and he’s asked me to come with him.” You say, not missing how Briggs and Mike exchanged a look between them.

“You better be careful out there. If Caza brings Jangles you get out of there before anything goes wrong.” Briggs says, striding towards you and placing his hands on your shoulders so he could look you in the eyes.

“I know. I’ll be careful.” You say softly, offering Briggs a small smile to reassure him that you’ll be okay.

“I expect regular contact from you every day you’re gone just so we can confirm you’re okay. Does that sound like a plan?” Briggs continues, folding his arms across his chest, letting his protectiveness seep into his voice.

“That’s fine, I can do that. I’ll only have this burner phone with me but I’ll contact you when I get a chance to. Promise.” You swear, watching Briggs carefully as he drops his chin to his chest, sighing softly.

“You better go get ready, huh? We’ll see you off.” Briggs says quietly, looking up at you and smiling softly as you nod. You then head upstairs to your room, dig out some clothes to wear, pack a small bag and make sure you have your gun and ammo as well as conceal your FBI badge and ID deep in your bag just in case you need it at all. When you’re satisfied that you have everything you need, you make your way back down the stairs and see Briggs and Mike waiting with small smiles on their faces.

“Don’t let the house fall apart without me, boys.” You tease, continuing to push your worry aside to appear confident in front of your friends.

“We’ll try our best,” Mike replies, bringing you in for a hug.

“Also I better not miss out on sauce night. I might never recover if I do.” You joke as you pull away from the hug, looking from Mike to Briggs.

“You know Charlie could never hold sauce night without everyone in attendance. Don’t worry.” Briggs says, tugging you into a hug of his own.

“That’s a relief. I guess I’ll see you guys in a week or so.” You say with a small smile, adjusting your bag and leaving Graceland, taking a deep breath as you exit the house before you make your way in the direction of Luca’s house.

After three days, you stopped communicating.

“Have you heard anything from y/n?” Briggs asks early one morning when he notices everyone gathered in the kitchen as Johnny makes pancakes. Briggs feels anxiety clawing at his stomach when he gets nothing but shaking heads and murmuring ‘no’s’ in response.

“I thought she said she’d message you daily?” Mike asks, his attention drawn from watching Johnny to where Briggs is standing.

“She hasn’t messaged me in a couple of days. I thought there’d be a chance she messaged one of you guys instead.” Briggs says worriedly, watching as everyone slowly realises that something may be wrong.

“She’s not said a thing to anyone?” Charlie asks, her jaw clenching when she sees everyone continuing to shake their heads.

“Okay well, we gotta get the cops involved, right?” Johnny asks, shutting the stove off, abandoning the pancakes and glancing from person to person.

“We definitely have to contact the police in Mexico and see if they can find someone fitting her description. I’ll go down there myself and oversee any investigation.” Briggs starts, and everyone begins to scramble into action.

“I’ll head to some of the local stations around here. If y/n ends up stateside without contacting us I’d feel better knowing that the LAPD are on the lookout for her as well.” Charlie says, grabbing her jacket and tugging it on.

“I’ll do the same. We can cover more stations that way.” Paige says, rushing to grab all her belongings so she can head out.

“I’ll go to the Bureau and report this. I’ll let them know what we’re all doing.” Mike says as he gestures for Johnny to follow him.

“Jakes, do you think you could get ICE involved? Keep an eye on people coming out of the border, especially if there’s someone who matches Luca’s description.” Briggs asks, pointing at Jakes who nods quickly, grabs his phone, and dials a number on his phone before getting up and moving away for some quiet. After everyone figures out what they’re going to do, they all rush out of Graceland, making their separate ways to start searches for you.

Charlie was the one to enter Mid-Wilshire, immediately making a beeline for Grey’s office, her urgency catching the attention of Tim and Lucy as they stood near Angela’s desk, listening to her explain the details of a case she had been working on.

“Agent DeMarco, can I help you?” Grey asks as Charlie enters the office, glancing up from his computer as she enters.

“One of our agents has gone missing. She went to Mexico undercover just over a week ago and we haven’t received any communication from her in a few days.” Charlie starts, explaining the situation as Grey raises an eyebrow.

“Respectfully Agent DeMarco, if someone has gone missing in Mexico, surely you should be contacting the Mexican police? We don’t have jurisdiction in other countries.” Grey asks, leaning back in his chair as Charlie sighs, crossing her arms.

“Briggs is already covering that front. We just want to make as many stations in LA aware. If y/n somehow ends up stateside and for some reason has no way to contact any of us at Graceland, I’d feel better knowing the LAPD are keeping an eye out for her.” Charlie explains further, watching as Grey nods slowly.

“I see. Well, we can get an APB out for her, but again since she went missing in Mexico we can only cover LA. But we will do what we can.” Grey says as Charlie nods.

“We’ll take any help we can get. We’re just worried about her.” She admits, fiddling with her fingers as a way to channel her anxiety. After giving Grey a description of you as well as the information she knew about Luca just in case he reappeared without you, Charlie exits Grey’s office, almost walking straight into Tim who had begun to mingle near the office.

“Agent DeMarco, is everything okay?” Tim asks, his hands resting on his gun belt as he watches Charlie shake her head.

“y/n is missing,” Charlie says, noticing how quickly Tim tensed up, his mouth dropping open slightly in shock as he tried to figure out a way to respond.

“You’re sure she’s missing?” Tim asks quickly, stammering and falling over his words, hoping that it was nothing more than a cruel prank being played on him.

“Positive. She promised Briggs that she’d be in contact daily and she hasn’t contacted any of us for a couple of days now.” Charlie says, explaining to Tim what she had just told Grey moments ago.

“Is there anything we can do? There has to be something, right?” Tim asks desperately watching for any kind of response from Charlie who just shrugs.

“There’s not much that can be done from here. The LAPD doesn’t have any kind of jurisdiction outside of LA but Briggs is in Mexico trying to start some sort of investigation but we’re just asking the LAPD to keep an eye out for her in case she somehow ends up back in LA without any of us knowing.” Charlie says simply, missing how Tim gritted his teeth, bowing his head in frustration.

“If you need any help. I’m more than willing to help.” Tim offers, looking back up at Charlie who offers Tim a soft smile.

“Thank you,” Charlie says softly, her smile encouraging Tim to give her a smile of his own, albeit forced. Charlie then carefully dismisses herself, making her way out of Mid-Wilshire station to go to the next station, leaving Tim standing in the middle of the room alone.

“Tim, what’s going on?” Lucy asks, approaching Tim after having watched his and Charlie’s interaction from afar.

“y/n’s missing.” Is all Tim can bring himself to say, unable to remove his gaze from the door Charlie had just left through.

“What? How do they know? Can we help at all?” Lucy asks, worry crossing her face as Tim finally turns to face her, shaking his head solemnly.

“There’s not much we can do. She went missing in Mexico. We’ve only been told to just keep an eye out for her in case she somehow ends up stateside without anyone in Graceland knowing.” Tim says, watching as Lucy fights back a frown.

“There has to be something, right? I mean you went to Guatemala to save Angela.” Lucy says, trying to come up with something that they could do to help you.

“That was to save one of our own and even then it was hard to convince Grey to let us go along with that plan. We won’t be able to get involved unless the Feds want us involved.” Tim says with a shake of his head, knowing just how impossible it would be to try and get involved. Despite that, he began to think, a single idea coming to mind before suddenly walking off, leaving Lucy confused and standing alone.

At a gas station, Briggs was filling his Bronco up with gas when his phone began to ring, and he quickly dug in his pocket, his heart pounding as he pulled the phone out of his pocket, hoping you were on the other end of the phone when he didn’t recognise the number.

“Hello?” Briggs asks, unusually anxious as he awaits an answer from the other end.

“Agent Briggs, it’s Officer Tim Bradford.” Briggs couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of disappointment at the voice. He had no ill feelings towards Tim, he just wished it had been you calling, telling him you were okay.

“Officer Bradford, what can I do for you?” Briggs asks, leaning against his Bronco as he stares up at the sky from behind his sunglasses. He found it unusually cruel for the day to be so sunny and cheerful when you were missing.

“I heard about y/n being missing and I want to help,” Tim says, pacing back and forth anxiously as he talks. He denied it to anyone who brought it up but he did harbour feelings for you, and you being missing and potentially hurt made his heart hurt.

“Respectfully, this isn’t really an LAPD matter. We only informed you guys just in case she ends up stateside.” Briggs starts, trying to let Tim down gently.

“I don’t care. I want to do what I can to help y/n.” Tim demands, ceasing in his pacing as his voice raises slightly, causing Briggs to raise his eyebrows slightly in impressed shock. He knew Tim cared for you, but now he was getting to see the protectiveness Tim had for you, a side neither man knew he harboured for you.

“Look man, I don’t know what your boss will say about it but if you really want to help me… I won’t stop you. I’m just filling my car up for the journey, you can meet me here and we can head to Mexico together.” Briggs finally says, respecting Tim’s drive to help and deciding that ultimately it would be safer if he and Tim teamed up as opposed to working separately.

“Where are you? I’ll swing by as soon as I can.” Tim asks, already prepping a lie about a family emergency as Briggs lets him know which gas station he is at. With Briggs’ location shared, Tim hung up the phone, ready to leave the station.

It took Tim about half an hour to get to the gas station Briggs was at after leaving the station. He had to make a quick pit stop home to pack a bag and call Genny to ask if she could look after Kojo while he was gone, letting her know where his spare key was so she could swing by whenever she could to collect him. As soon as Tim was confident he was sorted, he walked to the gas station, quickly recognising Briggs who gestured him over.

“Thanks for letting me tag along. I just feel so useless sitting by and doing nothing.” Tim thanks Briggs as they shake hands.

“Glad to see you care about y/n. But I do have to lay down some ground rules. I’m in charge here. What I say goes no matter what. I also trust you can look after yourself. Technically speaking you’re not supposed to be here and I don’t want you getting hurt or killed on my watch.” Briggs says as the two make their way towards his car.

“Of course, whatever you say goes,” Tim says with a nod, getting into the passenger seat while Briggs gets behind the wheel and begins the journey to Mexico.

The journey to Mexico was long, and Briggs and Tim weren’t quite sure how to hold a conversation together other than talking about how to try and find you. By the time they had made it to Mexico, they’d managed to set a game plan on how they’d go about starting the investigation when they made it to the police station nearest to where you had been. Upon arriving at the police station, both Briggs and Tim exit the vehicle making their way into the building and approaching the front desk. Briggs strikes up a conversation in Spanish with the officer working at the front desk while Tim stands back, listening carefully to what is being said. When the officer finds out that they’ve come from LA, he begins to talk in English, figuring it would be easier.

“So, you said you had a missing agent, huh?” The officer asks after introducing himself as Miguel as he leads the two men through the station.

“That’s correct, she told me she was in the area for a meeting with a Caza member and she’s failed to get into contact with us for a couple of days,” Briggs confirms, nodding as they reach a desk.

“I see. Well, I’ll get some men to call around local coroners offices and hospitals, so if you could give me a description and a name that would be helpful.” Miguel then says, glancing at Briggs who nods, giving him a full description of you and your name while Tim’s jaw tightens, eyes squeezing shut as he envisions you hurt or dead somewhere. Once Briggs gives out all the needed information, Miguel excuses himself to make some calls.

“We should start searching the area, right?” Tim asks the moment the two of them are left alone.

“We probably shouldn’t do anything without an okay from the Federales,” Briggs says, turning to look at Tim who watches Briggs, confused.

“She could be out there. Hurt. Alone. Afraid. And you’re just going to wait?” Tim asks incredulously staring at Briggs, shocked.

“y/n is tougher than you think. If she’s out there she’ll be able to handle herself. You agreed that you’d listen to everything I say and I’m saying we wait until the Federales say we can, and they’d be able to help us since they have more knowledge of the area.” Briggs says firmly, turning to face Tim properly. Both men stand face to face, Tim’s jaw clenching further as he glares at Briggs. Now that they were in Mexico, Tim’s agreement to listen to Briggs’ words went out the window. Tim was too worried about you and wanted nothing more than to just get out onto the streets and look for you. He was frustrated that Briggs was willing to break the rules enough to let him tag along but then the moment they could do any investigation he suddenly wanted to wait. Deep down, Tim knew Briggs was being rational, and that it would be best for them to get information from the Federales about where they could begin to look, but that rational thought was overtaken by Tim’s burning drive to find you and get you back to LA safe.

After some painful minutes of pacing and waiting for anyone to help, Miguel returned with his phone in hand.

“There is no one matching her description or name in any hospitals or morgues.” He informs the two, watching as Tim lets out a slight sigh, relieved to hear that you weren’t dead in a morgue anywhere. But you were still missing.

“Okay, so what’s our next play? We gotta get out on the streets and look for her, right?” Tim asks, looking between Briggs and Miguel, eyes searching desperately for an answer.

“That would be the next course of action, yes. You said she came for a meeting with Caza, correct?” Miguel asks, turning to Briggs who nods quickly to confirm.

“Yeah, someone she was undercover with was invited for a meeting with Caza. I don’t think either of them knew what they were getting into but if Jangles was involved…” Briggs trails off, eyes squeezing shut as he envisions what could’ve happened to you if Jangles was involved.

“Jangles? Who’s Jangles?” Tim asks worriedly, noticing the increased tension in the room.

“We call him ‘El Hombre Llave’ here.” Miguel says, looking over at Tim who only grows more confused.

“The Key Man?” Tim translates the name easily, but still not fully understanding the significance of the name.

“Named as such because he’s known for carrying around the keys of his victims. Us Feds call him Jangles on account of the sound of all those keys jangling. He’s Caza’s attack dog, if there’s someone they don’t like, don’t trust. There’s a high chance Jangles will come after them.” Briggs explains further, noticing how Tim grew more worried at what was said.

“You’re telling me that there’s potentially a killer out there after y/n? And I’m only finding this out now?” Tim asks, dumbfounded as he watches the two men carefully.

“Look, man, you’re not FBI so you didn’t know about Jangles and I was, and still am, hoping he wasn’t involved. For y/n’s sake more than anything.” Briggs explains, holding his hands up to try and keep the peace between the two of them.

“So, you were just planning on not telling me about the fact that this cartel has a guy they send to do their dirty work?” Tim asks, his voice raising as he addresses Briggs, completely thrown by the fact that Briggs was willing to keep such a vital piece of information from him when it would’ve been useful to know earlier, especially when a person of interest was dubbed as an ‘attack dog’ for the cartel you were investigating.

“Do I need to remind you of the rules we established? I’m in charge and I don’t have to tell you shit.” Briggs says firmly, stepping closer to Tim, the two men standing in a face-off.

“Whoa, please calm down you two. We need to focus on finding your agent.” Miguel says quickly, gaining the attention of both men as they back down, although still continuing to glare at each other.

“You’re right. Is there anywhere we can start our search?”

After three days of searching, Briggs and Tim found no clues to your whereabouts and the Federales began to draw the line, saying that the search efforts may be in vain. Neither man wanted to give up but they also knew they couldn’t keep wasting resources and police time. After the three days had passed, the two men were forced to return to LA, empty-handed and dejected. When Briggs made it back to Graceland, he saw the hopeful expressions that were quickly shot down by the shake of his head. Despite the failed search in Mexico, Tim continued to keep an eye out for you on his patrols, hoping you’d miraculously turn up.

Four days after Briggs and Tim returned to LA. You turned up at Graceland.

You stumbled into the house, pale, clammy, and shivering, but you were home. You made an immediate beeline for the kitchen, your throat screaming for water. You could barely focus on what was around you as you fumbled for a glass, knocking some things over as you tried to turn the water on to fill your glass. Once the glass was half filled with water, you turned the tap off, took a quick refreshing sip of water and made your way to the couch, placing the glass down before collapsing on the couch, letting out the smallest sighs of relief at the familiar comfort of the cushions. Just after your eyes slipped closed, you heard the familiar sounds of someone coming down the stairs, and whoever it was, wasn’t doing the best job at attempting to be stealthy. Your eyes peeled open as you looked over at your shoulder, smiling weakly when you locked eyes with Johnny who paused on the stairs as he stared at you, gun in hand.

“You know there’s no guns downstairs Johnny.” You laugh with a wince as a spark of pain shoots through you.

“y/n? Holy shit.” Johnny says, immediately putting his gun down and rushing over to you.

“Hey Johnny.” You say weakly as Johnny sits on the couch alongside you, pulling you into his arms for a hug.

“Where the hell have you been, girl?” Johnny asks, cradling your head against his chest, letting out the smallest sigh of relief that you’re alive.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m home now.” You whisper, clinging to Johnny, wincing slightly as you adjust yourself.

“We gotta get you to a hospital.” Johnny suddenly says, pulling away as you shake your head, ignoring the lightheadedness that comes with it.

“No. No, I’m fine. No hospitals Johnny. Please.” You plead quietly, watching Johnny carefully as he falls silent, debating what he should do before he sighs softly and nods.

“Okay. No hospitals.” He concedes, looking at you as you smile.

“Thank you. I just need a shower and a nap I’m sure I’ll be fine in no time.” You say, laughing lightly as you gesture at yourself to lightly mock your appearance.

“I wasn’t going to say anything but..” Johnny says cheekily, laughing as you roll your eyes, bracing your hands either side of yourself and easing yourself up onto your feet, wincing once more at the spark of pain that flies through you.

“Hey, I got you,” Johnny says quickly, leaping to his feet, wrapping one of your arms around his middle and helping you up the stairs, guiding you carefully up to your room so he could help you grab some clean clothes and a towel before helping you to the bathroom.

“I got it from here, Johnny. Thank you.” You say gratefully as you stop outside the door to the bathroom.

“If you need me just shout. I’m going to contact the others and let them know you’re home.” Johnny says, carefully helping you unwind your arm from around him, letting you go with a smile. When you enter the bathroom and lock the door you instantly turn the shower on, letting it warm up while you strip down, catching sight of your battered and bruised body, looking at each injury in turn until your eyes land on the bruises on the inside of your arm, biting back tears when you look at them. You spend a few minutes staring at the bruises before you bring yourself back to reality and get into the shower. You relax as the hot water rushes over you, the water slowly dyeing pink as you scrub the blood, both dried and wet off your body. You scrub at every inch of you, a desperate attempt to cleanse yourself of what you had been through over the last few days. After a long shower, you get into your sweatpants and loose shirt, heading to your room to throw your stuff into your laundry basket before grabbing a hoodie to hide your injuries even more. Once you were changed you once more caught sight of yourself in the mirror and you couldn’t help but wince slightly at how pale and clammy you looked. All you could do was hope you’d be able to play it up to what you had been through. Shaking your head lightly with a sigh, you head downstairs where Johnny is in the kitchen cooking.

“Cooking are we?” You ask teasingly, leaning against the wall by the stairs to the kitchen as a wave of nausea hits you.

“You don’t look like you’ve eaten much recently. Plus, I know you’ve been missing my cooking.” Johnny says, looking over at you and shooting you a quick wink, his smile faltering slightly when he sees how rough you look.

“Hey, why don’t you relax on the couch? The others should be back soon.” Johnny says, his hand hovering over the handle of the pan as he debates abandoning the food to help you over to the couch.

“I might do that, yeah.” You mumble, easing yourself away from the wall and making your way over to the couch, lying across it, shoving a cushion under your head and lying an arm across your eyes to shield them from the bright sunlight coming from the large windows. You squeeze your eyes shut in another attempt to close the overwhelming light out. After about ten minutes of lying on your back, listening to Johnny humming to himself as he cooks, you hear the front door fly open.

“Is she here?” You hear Briggs say, calling through the house, making your eyes peel open as you prop yourself up on your elbows smiling weakly over at Briggs.

“Over here.” You call over, your voice weak but Briggs hears you, rushing over and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Didn’t realise you’d missed me that much.” You then say, attempting to keep your voice light as Briggs hugs you tighter, making you wince silently but not wanting to break the embrace.

“You’re family y/n, of course, I missed you,” Briggs says softly, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

“I missed you guys too.” You reply, listening to Briggs’ rapid heartbeat begin to slow as he holds you close.

“You look like shit, is everything okay?” Briggs asks worriedly, pulling away slightly to take in your rough appearance as you laugh weakly.

“You really know the way to a woman’s heart, Briggs.” You joke as you hear the door open once more, this time looking over to see Charlie and Mike entering the house, seeing you and Briggs and rushing over.

“Hey, Chuck.” You mumble, smoothly transferring yourself from Briggs’ embrace to Charlie’s who holds you close, running a hand through your hair.

“What happened to you, Baby?” Charlie asks, her maternal instincts kicking in as she cradles you, shifting her hand from your hair to your chin, cupping it softly so she can look you in the eye.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” You say quietly, trying to reassure her that you are okay, smiling softly at her as Mike eases himself down on the couch.

“Mikey, you’re not missing out on this, " you say, gesturing him closer as Charlie carefully releases you from her embrace, swapping places with Mike so he can give you a hug.

“It’s so good to have you back,” Mike says softly, hugging you carefully as you smile, grateful to be back with the people you love.

“I bet I’ve missed out on sauce night, huh?” You ask, glancing between everyone, pulling away from Mike slightly but staying close enough that his arm stayed wrapped around you.

“Never. We could never hold sauce night without you.” Charlie says reassuringly, reaching across to rub a gentle hand up and down your arm, making you sigh with a soft laugh.

“You know, we’re not the only ones who missed you,” Mike says with an amused smile, glancing around at everyone before focusing on you.

“Was it someone outside the house?” You ask quietly, watching everyone’s reactions carefully, your heart rate begins to pick up as you start to hope who it was.

“That Tim Bradford of yours wouldn’t stop pestering us. He damn near demanded I brought him to Mexico with me when we first figured out you’d gone missing. That man’s got it bad for you.” Briggs explains with a laugh, watching as your eyebrows furrow slightly, looking up at him.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually let Tim come to Mexico with you.” You ask, worried about what could’ve possibly happened to Tim. Before Briggs could reply, you heard the door open.

“Levi, you better not be hogging y/n all to yourself.” You hear Jakes call, rushing into your line of sight as Mike rolls his eyes, gently letting you wiggle free from his embrace so you can lean forward and give Jakes a hug as you think about how you need to visit Tim soon to let him know you were okay.

“Paige said she was too deep into her case at the moment to come home right now but you know she’ll be here the moment she’s able to,” Johnny says, entering the living room with a plate of food and cutlery, handing it to you with a gentle smile.

“Somehow I don’t doubt it.” You reply, smiling as you take the plate, leaning back against the couch cushions so you can eat. You only manage a couple of mouthfuls of food before you begin to feel nauseous. You place the plate down with a trembling hand and get up from the couch.

“Sorry Johnny, the food is lovely I just don’t have as much appetite as I thought. I might go for a nap, actually.” You say apologetically, dismissing yourself and heading up the stairs, trying to contain each wince that flashes across your face each step you take.

When you make it to your room, you collapse on your bed, curling up as you shiver. All you could think about was what the cartel had left you, how much you regretted using it so quickly, and how you wanted more. Even as you tried to nap it was all you could think about as you tossed and turned. As your brain screams at you, unable to rest for even a second, you eventually push the covers back, crossing to your desk and digging through the drawers desperately to try to find one of the many burner phones you had stashed away. When you finally found one, you quickly discovered that it had run out of battery making you slam your hand on your desk angrily with a frustrated grunt before you dug around in your drawers further, managing to find a charger and shakily rushing to the nearest outlet, your hands barely able to stay still long enough to plug into the port. As soon as the phone was charging, you sat on the edge of your bed, knee bouncing erratically as you waited for the phone to power on.

The second the phone began to power on, you fumbled through the contacts, searching for the right number before you hurriedly typed out a message, your shaking fingers causing you to make multiple typos, your muddled mind barely processing any of it as you hit send, desperation clinging to every fibre of your body.

Mere seconds after you hit send, you hear footsteps approaching your room and you hurriedly shove the phone out of eyesight, diving under the cover just as the door to your room opens and the person on the other side knocks lightly. You feigned waking up as you glanced over your shoulder to see Paige entering carefully.

“y/n, you’re okay!” Paige says, relief crossing her features as she locks eyes with you.

“That I am.” You say with a small smile, lowering yourself back down to the pillow and curling up again, hoping Paige will get the hint.

“What happened to you? Where were you?” Paige then asks, her expression worried as she regards you.

“I’m not quite ready to talk about it yet, Paige. I’m exhausted and just want to rest. I promise I’ll come down when I feel up to it.” You mumble, burying your face further into the pillow.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just glad you’re home.” Paige says quickly and apologetically, beginning to close the door, whispering a quick apology before closing the door behind her, leaving you alone once more.

The second the door closed, your phone buzzed lightly, sending you scrambling out from under the covers, hand flailing for the phone as you pulled it closer to you. Your eyes hurriedly scan the screen, desperately focusing on the message, hoping you were getting the response you wanted. When you had processed the message, you let out a small sigh of relief, your body relaxing properly for what felt like the first time since you walked back through the doors of Graceland. All you had to do now was bide your time and then you’d get what you’ve been desperately craving, knowing you had to make sure that no one else found out about it.

A few days after you returned from Mexico, you finally got the courage to go and visit Tim to let him know you were okay. It was nerve-wracking to be stepping back into Mid-Wilshire, especially when you weren’t back on duty yet. You made your way to the front desk, awkwardly standing in front of it for a moment until you got the attention of the officer working there.

“Can I help you?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes flicking from you to the paperwork in front of him, barely paying you much attention.

“I was just wondering if Officer Bradford was in?” You ask, an unusual sheepishness to your voice as you speak, fidgeting with your fingers and fighting the urge to shuffle.

“Why do you need to see him?” The officer asks with a sigh, looking bored and ready to send you away.

“I’m a friend.” You say, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets, your thumb brushing alongside your badge. You knew you could just use your badge, say it was an FBI matter but you also knew that you couldn’t risk putting people on high alert just so you could see Tim. You were also pretty sure that even with your badge the officer on the other side of the desk wouldn’t believe you with how rough you looked. Your split lip was still healing, you were pale and shaking, and you had obvious bags under your eyes. You wouldn’t have been surprised if the officer began to attempt to arrest you with your appearance the way it was.

“A friend, huh? Look, lady, I don’t know who you’re trying to fool here but if you think I’m supposed to believe that you are a friend of Tim Bradford’s, you’ve got another thing coming.” The officer says, rolling his eyes as he focuses on the paperwork before him, and as he talks, your gaze begins to wander, hoping by some miracle you’d be able to talk yourself out of this situation. Just as all hope seems lost, Tim walks in, ready to address someone but halting in his tracks completely when he notices you, jaw dropping open as he stares.

“Hey, Tim.” You say softly, not really sure of what to say to him.

“y/n? What? How did you? Where did you? Are you really back?” Tim stammers, unable to form a proper sentence as he refuses to remove his gaze from you.

“I’m here, Tim.” You say as Tim begins to take small, tentative steps towards you, stopping just in front of you as he regards you softly.

“Can I…?” Tim asks, unable to finish his sentence but despite that, you knew what he was asking for so you stepped closer, winding your arms around his middle and hugging him lightly, feeling his arms wrap around you, pulling you a little closer.

“I would’ve come by sooner but the Bureau wanted to ask me some questions first and quite frankly I’ve been feeling like shit.” You say quietly, relishing the feeling of how Tim’s arms wound around you so perfectly. Tim held you in a way that made you feel protected and made you believe that everything would be okay.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” Tim confesses quietly, his voice soft as he speaks, his lips brushing up against the shell of your ear.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I promise I didn’t do it on purpose.” You make a weak attempt at a joke as Tim holds you a little tighter, somehow attuned to your unhealed injuries and not wishing to hurt you further.

“I know you didn’t. But it didn’t make me worry any less.” Tim says, unafraid to admit his worry to you.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, shifting slightly so you can look at Tim properly as he shakes his head lightly.

“Don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault. Hey, look I was just about to go on lunch, come with me. We can catch up and lunch will be on me.” Tim says, pulling away slightly, his hands moving up to gently hold you by the shoulders as he watches you softly.

“Tim I don’t want to impose…” you say nervously, watching as Tim shakes his head once more.

“I want you to join me. I’ve missed you.” Tim insists, his unusually soft eyes pleading with you as you silently consider his offer before sighing lightly, your head bowing.

“Okay. I’ll come.” You say as you look back up at Tim who smiles, leading you out of the station and taking you to a small food truck nearby, letting you sit at one of the tables while he orders the food for the both of you. It doesn’t take Tim long to return to the table, placing the two meals down on the table as you smile and thank him before digging in.

“What do you think of the food?” Tim asks after a few minutes of silent eating.

“It’s good. It’s no Hector’s but it’s pretty good regardless.” You admit with a nod, making Tim’s eyebrows furrow slightly.

“Hector’s? I don’t think I’ve heard of that.” Tim muses, stabbing at his food with the small plastic fork in his hand as your jaw drops open in shock.

“You don’t know Hector’s Tacos? It’s just the best taco truck in LA. Everyone at Graceland loves it. I’ll have to take you there someday. You haven’t truly lived until you’ve tried Hector’s Tacos.” You say with a laugh, watching as Tim nods with a chuckle.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Tim says jokingly, pointing at you as you laugh, rolling your eyes.

You spend about twenty minutes with Tim, falling back into your natural rhythm and you find yourself almost distracted from the nagging desperation in the back of your head until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You dug it out of your jacket and looked down at the screen, expecting it to be a text from someone from Graceland but instead, you saw a number you recognised all too quickly. You sat up a little straighter, your focus now entirely on the screen as you hurriedly type a response, getting to your feet.

“I’m so sorry, Tim. I have to go. This was amazing and we have to do it again someday.” You say, barely looking up at Tim who didn’t even have a chance to say anything before you darted off, leaving Tim alone and confused.

When most of the agents made their way back to Graceland after a long day at work, they were all expecting to find you somewhere within the house but instead, the house was quiet, with no sign of you anywhere.

“Yo, has anyone seen y/n?” Briggs asks as he comes downstairs after conducting a search for you upstairs.

“Nah, man. Last I heard she was going to try and visit Tim. Maybe things went so well they’ve wound up at his place.” Johnny says, ignoring the groans of his housemates as he laughs.

“As much as I’d love for those two to grow up and confess their feelings for each other I doubt that’s the case. y/n’s been through a lot recently, I can’t imagine that she’d want to confess her feelings now of all times and I’d like to think that Tim is enough of a gentleman not to do anything like that while she’s recovering.” Charlie says, lightly slapping Johnny on the back of the head as she talks.

“I agree. Maybe they’re just catching up? Talking to Tim is probably the best way for her to just get away from everything so I can’t blame her for wanting a few hours out of the house.” Paige says, defending you from the accusations even when you’re not around to hear her.

“She makes a good point. I’d want a few hours away from us too. Especially when she can’t get involved with work right now.” Jakes says with a shrug, taking a sip from his glass of freshly poured orange juice.

“Maybe…” Briggs mutters to himself, turning away from the others and crossing to the window so he could overlook the beach. The waves were big, a perfect day for surfing which is what Briggs would’ve been tempted to do had he not been concerned about you. He had been keeping close tabs on you since you got back to Graceland and he wasn’t glad to be recognising the signs you were displaying.

When you didn’t come back to the house until the next day, most of the team had become convinced that you were just spending the night with Tim but Briggs was still convinced that his hypothesis was correct despite what the others thought but he wasn’t prepared to jump to conclusions just yet. He wanted to be certain that he was in fact right before he tried to bring the topic up with you.

Over the next few days, Briggs did his best to keep close tabs on you. He’d question you when he found you attempting to sneak out of Graceland late at night after everyone else had gone to bed. You’d always use the same excuse every time you were caught, claiming you just wanted to clear your head and go for a late-night walk along the beach. After hearing the same excuse five times in a row, Briggs knew he had to follow you to get to the bottom of what was going on with you. Thankfully, on the night Briggs had chosen to follow you, you were so hyper-focused on where you were going that you had neglected to remember any of your FBI training when it came to making sure you weren’t being tailed. Briggs followed you through the back alleys and various neighbourhoods until he stopped, watching you enter a run-down house, knocking on the door and being let in by the guy on the other side of the door.

Briggs spent the whole night sitting on a curb, waiting for you to come out of the house, his leg bouncing anxiously as he worries about what condition you’ll be in when you come out. As the sun begins to rise, you emerge from the building. You look rough, like you’d been through the wringer.

“y/n!” Briggs called over to you, getting up from where he’d been sitting and crossing to you. You’d barely had time to process that he was there and that by the time he crossed to you, any hope of running away was gone.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, shocked as Briggs winds a protective arm around you, escorting you away from the building.

“I’m worried about you. What’s going on with you?” Briggs asks worriedly, leading you along streets you didn’t recognise, his walk hurried as he ushers you along.

“Nothing’s going on with me. What are you talking about?” You ask, trying to convince Briggs that he was reading into everything too much.

“Answer me this, what were you doing all night? It’s not like you to sneak off in the middle of the night and go somewhere as dodgy as this.” Briggs says, abruptly stopping in his tracks, turning to face you, an action you mirror as he moves to hold you by the shoulders to keep you in place.

“I was just… visiting a friend?” You attempt weakly, your shoulders slumping when Briggs shakes his head with a sigh.

“I thought being an undercover agent would make you a better liar. Look y/n/n, I’m worried about you. I have my suspicions about what’s going on with you. I’m hoping I’m wrong so I’m going to give you this one chance to prove to me that I’m wrong and you’re doing something else.” Briggs says, his voice was soft and concerned. A vulnerability you rarely see from him displayed all over his face as he talks.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” You ask nervously, tears beginning to well in your eyes as you worry about what Briggs could accuse you of. You were especially terrified that if he had sussed you out, he was going to go running to the Bureau and report you, which would obviously lead to you losing your job.

“I think you’ve been sneaking out to go get yourself high,” Briggs says, his voice unexpectedly soft as he looks you in the eye. At Briggs’ gentle tone and lack of judgement, the built-up tears begin to spill down your cheeks.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” You whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks as your teeth clamp down on your lower lip to stop it from trembling violently.

“I won’t tell a soul. But I can’t let you keep going like this. This is dangerous for you and the house. I’m going to help you but I need you to trust me. Can you do that for me?” Briggs says, his voice never straying from the soft tone he had been using to talk to you as if he was talking to a scared child. In response to his question, you nod, more tears dribbling down your cheeks as Briggs smiles gently.

“I trust you.” You whisper, making Briggs nod slightly.

“Okay, let’s go. I’ve got someplace private we can talk.” Briggs then says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again so he could lead you to where he knew you’d get some privacy.

Briggs takes you to a small apartment building, it was run down and clearly not maintained unlike the luxury you were used to in Graceland but you weren’t one to complain, especially when Briggs was helping you in your time of need. Upon entering the apartment, Briggs eases you down on the bed before sitting alongside you, angling himself so he can face you.

“I don’t want to push you but I think now is as good a time as any to explain what happened to you and what’s got you hooked on drugs,” Briggs says, watching as you nod lightly, lifting your hand to wipe away the fallen tears with shaking hands.

“The meet in Mexico was a setup. They… they killed Luca right in front of me. I know he was a drug dealer but he wasn’t a bad guy. He didn’t deserve to go out like that. I thought I was going to be next the moment I registered that they’d killed him but instead they just took me somewhere. I woke up tied to a chair and then…”

“Jangles walked in.” Briggs finishes your sentence when you become too overwhelmed to speak. Upon realising what Briggs had said, your eyes widen slightly and you stare at him with glassy eyes.

“How did you…?” You question, eyes fixed on Briggs as you wonder about how he could’ve possibly known that Jangles was involved in the whole thing.

“Because they did the same to me years ago,” Briggs admits, finding himself confessing something that no one else in the house, other than Mike, was aware of.

“What?” You ask quietly, questioning yourself on whether you heard him correctly.

“Before Graceland, there was another safe house for Feds, I lived there and my training officer was deep undercover with Caza, I’m talking about getting invited to Sunday dinners and the mother was calling him mijo. I stupidly decided to go to Mexico on an unauthorised mission and got myself caught by Caza. They must’ve known that I was FBI. They periodically got me high to the point of addiction and then left me for long enough that I was begging for more, but they never asked me anything. Once they got me hooked on heroin they had no more use for me, they just let me go but not without leaving me a ‘goodbye high’. It was definitely their way to get at the Bureau and clearly it got to their head if they’ve done something similar to you. You didn’t give anything away, did you?” Briggs explains, reliving the things he had been through in recent years and how much it hurt to give up someone he cared for, especially just because they got him hooked on heroin. In response to Briggs’ question, you shake your head.

“No. They didn’t ask me a single thing. They just came in, shot me up and then left. I think deep down they knew I was an agent so I’m shocked they didn’t kill me.” You confess quietly, more tears continuing to fall down your cheeks as you talk.

“It was another chance for them to stick it to the Bureau. They seem to find some sick pleasure in turning agents into addicts. They know that if word gets out about it, any and all cases we’ve ever worked would be reopened for investigation.” Briggs says, his voice reassuring as he wraps an arm around you and tugging you gently into his side.

“I thought I could beat it alone. Every time I left I told myself that it would be the last time, that I could stop whenever I wanted but every time I’d try I’d give in so quickly.” You admit tearily, leaning your head against Briggs’ shoulder as he rubs a reassuring hand up and down your arm.

“I know. It’s really easy to convince yourself that it’s that easy to just up and quit whenever you’re ready but it’s really not. And the fact you’ve opened up to me and you’re willing to let me help you is a huge step.” Briggs says, keeping his voice reassuring and gentle as he holds you a little closer, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I can’t go to a rehab. That would raise too many questions with the Bureau and the others. So, are there any other options?” You ask quietly, eyes flicking around the room. At your words, Briggs nods with a slight hum in agreement.

“You’re not wrong. I have an idea but it won’t be pretty. It will require you to trust me fully. I know you’ve already said you trust me but I want to make sure I have one hundred percent of your trust.” Briggs says as you lift your head off his shoulder so you can look each other in the eye.

“You have one hundred percent of my trust, Briggs.” You promise, and your vulnerable expression makes it clear to Briggs that you trust him wholeheartedly.

“Okay, before we do anything. We’re going to make a quick run to the store, we’re going to be here for a few days so let’s stock up.” Briggs says, getting to his feet as you follow, slightly confused as to where Briggs was going with this. You follow Briggs wordlessly to the nearest store, watching as he piles various ready meals, snacks, and water into a basket before he heads over to the cashier to buy the food. After purchasing the drinks and the food, Briggs takes you back to the small apartment and lets you sit down on the bed once more while he unpacks the food and drinks.

“Briggs, what is this place?” You ask curiously, wondering why you had never learnt about this place sooner.

“It’s just a safe house. It’s only really been for emergencies if I need a place to lie low I come here. I’ve never told you guys about this place because if something happened and I was hiding out here I wouldn’t want to put that pressure to lie on you guys.” Briggs explains, briefly pausing his actions as he watches you, studying how you nodded shakily, exhaling strongly.

“That makes sense.” You mumble, jaw clenching as your gaze flicks to the floor.

“You feeling okay?” Briggs asks, having a feeling he was recognising the signs but not wanting to jump to conclusions just yet.

“Just feeling off, maybe slightly nauseous?” You say, looking back up at Briggs who watches you sympathetically.

“Okay. But that’s to be expected, right? This detox is going to be tough. You’re going to hate me, call me every name under the sun. You’re going to be in so much pain but I know you can do it. And I’ll be here with you the whole way through. Promise.” Briggs says, shoving the last of the shopping away before crossing to you, sitting down alongside you and smiling reassuringly.

“Can you walk me through how this detox is going to work?” You ask and Briggs could sense the nervousness and fear rolling off you in waves. One look at your nervous expression and Briggs wanted to abandon the whole thing and take you back to Graceland but he knew he had to persevere, for your benefit above everything else.

“It sounds like some kind of horror movie but the only thing I can really do here is strap you to the bed and let you ride out the wave. I know it sounds horrible but I know you’re much stronger than you look and that if you were desperate, which you most likely will be, you’ll overpower me and be gone in seconds if I give you the chance.” Briggs explains, getting up from the bed and crossing to one of the drawers nearby to grab a spare pair of handcuffs he had for emergencies. At Briggs’ words, you swallow nervously. You knew it was for your own good, it would help you get through the roughest part of overcoming your addiction and you were comforted by the thought that Briggs would be with you the whole time. You knew he’d look after you and help you no matter what happened.

“If that’s the best plan. Then I’ll do it.” You say, nodding slightly as you look up at Briggs who offers you a supportive smile as he reaches out to rest a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly in reassurance.

“Alright, sounds like we gotta get this show on the road then, huh?” Briggs says in an attempt to somewhat lighten the mood. Finally, after some deep breaths, you give Briggs the nod he needs to confirm that you are ready and you lie back on the bed, waiting patiently as Briggs handcuffs you to the bed, making sure you’re comfortable before he straightens up.

“Do you think you could let the others know we’re okay?” You ask, after giving your right arm a few test tugs to make sure the restraint is tight enough to keep you in place.

“Of course, I’ll do that. I won’t tell them where we are or what we’re doing. Promise.” Briggs says as he places a bucket alongside the bed just in case you feel the need to throw up. You nod with a small smile, wiggling slightly to get more comfortable in the bed.

“Do you think…? Do you think you could let Tim know I’m okay? I feel bad enough that I went missing the first time and he had no idea if I was even alive or not. I owe it to him to let him know I’m okay this time around.” You ask quietly, watching as Briggs nods once more.

“Got it. I’ll let the others know and then I’ll let lover boy know in the morning, now get some sleep, you’re going to need it.” Briggs says with a wink as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, his gaze flicking down to the screen as he types out a message to send to Charlie.

“Come on Briggs.” You grumble, glaring over at Briggs who chuckles at how quickly he had managed to rile you up.

“Sorry. You know I had to. Now sleep.” Briggs says with a shrug, before pointing at you, his voice slightly stern as you grumble, attempting to find a comfortable position to lie in, feeling the nausea and nagging demand for more heroin screaming in your ear.

‘Hey, Tim, It’s Paul Briggs. I’ve taken y/n away for a couple of weeks just to help her decompress after whatever happened with her in Mexico and we’ve both decided she’d benefit from it. She’ll be unable to contact you for a while because of it. Everything is okay and you have no reason to worry.’ 

Tim’s eyebrows furrowed as he read the text that came through on his phone while he was sitting at a table ready for morning roll call, studying the message carefully as if he had somehow read it wrong. After reading the text a few times over, Tim sighs heavily as Lucy gives him a side-eye.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy asks curiously, turning her attention to Tim with a confused expression.

“That Briggs guy just messaged me saying that he’s taking y/n away for a bit to help her after all that stuff that happened in Mexico,” Tim mutters, eyes remaining fixed on the message as Lucy takes in his words.

“I mean, it would make sense for her to want to be away from everything. She’s clearly been through a lot recently and if she’s still not cleared to go back to work I understand why she’d want time away. It sounds like Briggs is just trying to help.” Lucy says with a slight shrug, trying to reassure Tim that it wasn’t anything personal.

“I get that. I’m just worried about her. She hasn’t been herself recently.” Tim says, expressing for the first time that he was concerned about you. He’d recognised a couple of signs with you that he had seen with Isabel and he was concerned that something had happened to you.

“I know you’re concerned, it goes to show how much you care about her. But this is probably what she needs. I needed time off after what happened with Caleb. Sometimes the best way to overcome stuff is just to get away from everything and it’s good that Briggs is evidently helping her through it.” Lucy says, her voice level and calm as Tim nods despite his slight frustration and jealousy.

“I know it’s just-”

“You’re jealous that Briggs is the one helping her not you?” Lucy cuts in with a raised eyebrow, trying to get to the bottom of what is really bothering Tim.

“Wha-? No, I’m not jealous.” Tim insists, eyes wide as he looks over at Lucy who doesn’t look convinced by his words.

“Okay, so let’s just go over this again. You’re bothered that y/n has gone away for a few weeks but you’re not concerned that she’s gone away with Briggs of all people?” Lucy asks, carefully studying Tim’s reaction.

“Briggs has nothing to do with my feelings regarding y/n being away.” Tim continues to insist, looking away from Lucy as he lets out a scoff.

“Are you sure? I won’t hold it against you if you are.” Lucy says, smiling lightly to try and ease the tension that has now settled between them.

“Okay I’m not jealous but after going to Mexico with that guy I just have a bad feeling about him. He seems like he’s only out for himself.” Tim then says, turning to face Lucy again whose eyebrows raised slightly in shock at Tim’s words.

“You think he’s going to hurt y/n or something?” She asks, concerned about what Tim thinks Briggs’ intentions are.

“I don’t know. y/n’s always spoken highly of him. Said he was her training officer when she first moved here and she’s trusted him for years now.” Tim explains, thinking of all the times you’d talked about Briggs. He knew you trusted Briggs with your life but after the interactions he had with him in Mexico. Tim couldn’t help but feel that something was off with Briggs. He didn’t like that Briggs had been so nonchalant when it came to finding you and how he had lorded the command he had over Tim’s head when Tim was the only one that first day who was chomping at the bit to go looking for you.

“I don’t think y/n would go with him if she didn’t trust him.” Lucy bargains, trying to calm Tim and reassure him that he’s just overthinking the whole thing.

“I know. I just-”

“Alright, guys, look alive!” The voice of Grey booms around the room as all conversations suddenly die down and everyone’s eyes flick to the front, ready to hear about what is on the agenda for the day. As Grey begins to talk, Lucy finds herself studying Tim in the corner of her eye, worried about him.

When Grey had finally finished talking and dismissed the group of gathered police officers, Tim got to his feet and headed to his shop to check the vehicle over with Lucy following close behind.

“Hey, I’ll get the war bags and then I’ll drive today, okay?” Lucy says, her voice gentle as she pats Tim’s shoulder lightly before turning back to head inside and get the war bags they need for their patrol. When she returned, she loaded the bags in the trunk of the vehicle and took the keys from Tim’s outstretched hand before climbing into the driver's seat while Tim rounded the shop and got in the passenger side.

The patrol was long and stressful for Tim. He tried to ask for updates every half an hour but all Briggs would ever send in response was ‘she’s fine.’ It started to grow frustrating when Tim received that message for what felt like the hundredth time and he fought the urge to throw his phone.

“Is he not telling you anything?” Lucy asks, her eyes fixed on the road as she hears Tim let out another sigh.

“He just keeps saying she’s fine. I can’t get any more than that. I just wish he’d tell me something, anything.” Tim grumbles, thumbs hovering over his phone screen as he debates sending a message back.

“At least you know she’s okay. That’s something, right?” Lucy offers, trying to put a positive spin on things while Tim continues to frown angrily, eyes not leaving his phone screen.

“But he’s not telling me any more than that. It sounds like a guy holding someone for ransom or something. He could just let me call and speak to her but he won’t let me.” Tim says, his jaw clenching.

“Tim. She’s been through something. We don’t know what but it’s probably been traumatic for her so I don’t blame her for wanting to go off the grid completely with someone she trusts to get through it.” Lucy says, reiterating the point she had made mere hours earlier. Lucy felt like she had been talking to a brick wall for most of the patrol. Thankfully, Tim could pull himself together enough to respond appropriately to calls, but the second he was back in the shop he was staring at his phone like a moping puppy.

By the end of the patrol, Lucy had tried everything she could to calm Tim down and convince him that he was overthinking but nothing seemed to work. It became increasingly clear to Lucy that the only way to get Tim to relax was for him to see for himself that you were okay. All she managed to achieve by the end of the patrol was for Tim to agree to wait for you to contact him first although she could tell it wouldn’t stop Tim’s worry.

“Hey, Tim. Take it easy, okay? I know y/n being off the grid right now is bothering you but you can’t let it interfere with your work.” Lucy says softly after bumping into Tim on her way out of the locker room.

“I know. I’ll do my best.” Tim mumbles with a small nod, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he looks down at Lucy. He was already planning on going home, relaxing on the couch, and watching the game with Kojo to try to take his mind off everything.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me if you need anything.” Lucy says, nodding at Tim before making her way out of the station so she can head home, leaving Tim in the corridor.

By the end of two weeks in the safe house with Briggs, you were more than ready to go back to Graceland and get back to normality. The whole detox process had been sent from hell itself. You had cursed Briggs out for days while you writhed in pain on the bed and then to make matters worse you started burning up with a fever afterwards. You were fairly sure that most of the food Briggs offered to you had ended up being emptied out of your stomach after a few short minutes. But the pain had been worth it. You had completely cleared the heroin out of your system. While it was still there, the nagging demand for the drug had lessened and you knew that with the support of Briggs, you’d be able to get back into work and get back into a somewhat normal life.

“Can we go home, Briggs? Please?” You ask quietly while in the middle of drying your hair with a towel after a long overdue shower.

“You think you’re ready?” Briggs asks after taking a sip from his cup of coffee. His tone lacked judgement, only filled with concern as he looked over at you.

“I’m ready. I’ve missed everyone so much. I just want to go home.” You say, tears filling your eyes at the mere thought of your family back in Graceland.

“Okay, we’ll get sorted and then head back to Graceland,” Briggs says, getting to his feet after finishing his drink and crossing to the sink to clean the mug.

“Thank you.” You whisper gratefully, your eyes still teary as you look over at Briggs who nods, eyes fixed on the mug he was cleaning.

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you when we’re back home. If I catch even the slightest whiff of a relapse I will tell the Bureau for your own good. And I’ll have you coming to my Narcotics Anonymous meetings which I know probably sounds ridiculous but I promise you it helps.” Briggs then says, finally putting the mug down before turning to look at you, a look of seriousness on his face as his arms folded across his chest. You nod at his words knowing that Briggs would absolutely follow through on his threat if he deemed it necessary and you couldn’t blame him. Your battle with addiction could put yourself and so many others in danger if you relapsed. The idea of losing your job and the people you loved so much served to push you to better yourself, to not let the drug get the better of you again.

“You got it.” You say assuredly, a verbal promise that you’d adhere to any and all rules that Briggs may put in place for your own benefit.

“Cool. Right, let’s get going. I know Charlie is desperate to make her world-famous ragu but she’s been refusing to make it without you there. I’d be surprised if the house was still intact when we got home with how long it’s been since we’ve had sauce night.” Briggs admits with a chuckle, thinking about the various messages he had received from various members of the house.

“I feel like I need to buy some flowers or something to apologise for depriving everyone of sauce night for so long.” You laugh breathily as you stand from the bed, moving to grab your shoes as you discard the towel, hanging it over the back of the chair Briggs had placed by the bed, a way to sit nearby and support you through your detox.

“They’ll get over it. However, Tim was practically constantly pestering me for updates on how you were doing.” Briggs says, smoothly shifting the subject as you look over at him eyes wide with worry.

“You didn’t tell him what was going on, did you?” You ask, concern grabbing at your throat, constricting it as you fear what Tim may know.

“Of course, I didn’t. I only told him that you were okay and that we were away for some time to help you decompress after Mexico. I didn’t say anything more than that.” Briggs assures, grabbing his jacket from where it had been carelessly discarded on the table and tugging it on, waiting patiently for you to put your shoes on.

“Good. If he finds out, I want him to hear it from me directly.” You say, looking up at Briggs, briefly distracted from tying your shoelaces. Briggs watches you quietly, and a small sigh escapes his lips.

“Look, y/n. Telling Tim might not be the best idea. Secrets have burdens and telling someone, like Tim, who’s a member of the LAPD would really throw a stick in the works. I mean at the end of the day it’s up to you who you tell. But think about how it could affect them as well.” Briggs says, making your eyebrows furrow in thought as you think carefully about his words. You owed it to Tim to be honest with him, especially after everything that had happened recently, but you knew there was a possibility that he would react badly to the revelation. He was a Sergeant within the LAPD and you didn’t want him to have to go to work with that knowledge in his head. Briggs’ words also then made you realise that there was virtually no reason for you to even try and pursue a relationship with Tim anymore. Being an undercover agent was hard enough for relationships, let alone throwing in the fact that you were now a recovering heroin addict.

“You’re right.” You mumble softly, your mood now significantly dampened as you finish tying your laces, standing up and waiting for Briggs to join you.

“Let’s head home,” Briggs says softly, wrapping a supportive arm around your shoulders in an attempt to cheer you up after noticing how his previous words had affected you. You nod wordlessly in response and allow Briggs to lead you out of the safe house so you can both finally make your way back to Graceland.

The walk back to Graceland was quiet. Briggs had opted to take the scenic route home, walking along the beach. You admired the sights you had missed so much and watched the surfers who were in the ocean, patiently waiting for the next big wave. You couldn’t wait to return to the ocean, surf and forget all your worries. As you continue to walk along the beachfront, you hear a bark and perk up, noticing the familiar dog bounding towards you.

“Hey, BD!” You greet the dog excitedly as he presses himself up against your legs, eager for attention from you.

“It’s been a while, huh, buddy?” Briggs says lightly, reaching down to pet the dog as well. BD, short for Beach Dog had been living as a stray and roaming the beach since before you had joined Graceland. He was happy living on the beach and you and the others respected that. Of course, you’d bring him food and water on occasion, and pet him whenever you saw him, but you never tried to force him away from the comfort he had found from living on the beach.

“You haven’t been stealing any more of Mike’s flip-flops have you?” You ask the dog teasingly, stroking the top of his head softly as he pants happily, head tilting slightly as if he understood what you were saying to him.

“You’re just keeping Mikey on his toes aren’t you?” Briggs says down to BD, laughing as the dog lays down, rolling onto his back for even more attention. After a couple more minutes of fussing over the dog you had missed so much, you eventually decided to continue the walk back to Graceland with BD trotting alongside by your legs before he became distracted by something going on further down the beach and bolted off to investigate what was happening on his turf.

“Glad we were interesting enough for about five minutes.” You laugh breathily as you watch BD booking it down the beach, barking as he goes.

“I mean if I were a dog I’d probably find seagulls more interesting too,” Briggs says, bumping you lightly with his shoulder as you watch the seagulls that had been wandering the beach in BD’s line of sight take to the sky in a flurry as he rushes towards them.

“Yeah, I can’t blame him for that. He’s got to protect his beach.” You say with a smile as you watch BD bark at the birds that are now in the sky, squawking in warning to others.

You continue to walk down the beach until you finally approach the door to Graceland. You take a moment to stand outside the door, processing the fact that you are finally home after everything that has happened to you recently. You could only hope that this time you were here to stay. As if sensing your hesitation, Briggs gently hands you a key to the house, his smile supportive as he nods in approval. You nod back before lifting your hand to the door, carefully putting the key into the lock, taking a deep breath before turning the key and opening the door.

“Welcome home!” Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped when you saw your housemates standing in the living room, wide smiles on their faces as they stood in front of a ‘welcome home’ banner.

“How did you-?”

“Briggs told us you were coming home today. We hauled ass to get this together.” Johnny brags, crossing to you and pulling you into his arms with a grin. You were unsurprised to discover that Johnny was the brains behind the operation. He never turned down an opportunity to plan a party, no matter how small.

“You didn’t have to.” You say, your eyes growing teary with appreciation as you pull away from Johnny’s embrace slightly, looking over his shoulder to where the others are now approaching.

“We wanted to, y/n/n. You’re family.” Mike says, pulling you into a hug of his own as you mirror his actions, hugging him tight.

“I was only gone for a couple of weeks.” You insist, trying to fathom why they had gone out of their way to do such a thing for you.

“Yeah and after what you’d been through it’s the least we could do. Briggs didn’t give me enough of a heads up so unfortunately we can’t have sauce night tonight but three days from now we’ll have it, alright?” Charlie says, her voice soft and motherly as Mike lets you move to hug her, her hand instantly coming up to run through your hair as she hugs you.

“I’ve gone this long without it. What’s a few more days?” You joke lightly, eliciting laughs from the other members of the house.

“All that matters is that you’re okay,” Paige says, smiling softly as you look over at her, your smile matching hers as you detangle yourself from Charlie’s embrace to hug Paige who wraps you up in her arms quickly, hugging you close as you reciprocate the action.

“Jakes, are you not getting involved?” You ask, noticing how Jakes had elected to stay a few paces behind everyone else, watching the interactions from a short distance.

“Well you know parties aren’t my thing,” Jakes says with a light shrug as you are released from Paige’s embrace, an eyebrow raised as you watch him carefully.

“Not even a welcome home party for me?” You ask teasingly, opening your arms for a hug as Jakes chuckles lightly.

“Who am I kidding? Come here, girl.” Jakes says, crossing to you with a smile, wrapping you up in his arms, hugging you tightly as you laugh.

“Are you staying now?” You hear Mike ask, turning your head to look over at him with a small smile.

“Yes, Mikey, you’re all stuck with me once more. I’m going to head to the Bureau in a couple of days and see if I can get back out there working again.” You say, glancing around at each person in turn, offering them all soft smiles.

“You’re sure you’re feeling up to working again?” Charlie asks, her worry evident on her face and in her voice as she talks.

“I’m definitely feeling up to it. Being out of action for so long is sending me insane and I just feel useless sitting around doing nothing while you guys are still working.” You explain as Jakes loosens his grip on you, allowing you to step away and fully address everyone around you.

“Damn, was the two weeks with me that bad?” Briggs jokes, slinging an arm around your shoulders and jostling you slightly as everyone laughs.

“Yeah, what was it you were up to with Briggs?” Johnny asks curiously, eyebrow raised as his eyes flick between you and Briggs.

“I just needed time away from everything and Briggs was teaching me all his zen techniques to help after what happened in Mexico.” You laugh, the lie coming easily as the others laugh at the idea of you meditating with Briggs for two weeks straight.

“Well you’re home now, and we’ve got your back. We’re going to help you as much as we can.” Mike says, his smile gentle as ever as the rest of the group nods in support, making your heart swell with appreciation for the support you were getting from the others. They didn’t know the truth behind why you had disappeared but you weren’t ready to tell them about it, especially after Briggs’ warning. After a few minutes of catching up with the others, you head up to your room to put your things away and as you dig through the bag, discarding used clothes into the laundry basket, you find your burner phone at the bottom of the bag. The phone had been the one you used to contact the local drug dealers you knew, the ones you knew could get you heroin when you needed it. You hold the phone in your hands, staring down at the phone as it seemingly taunts you, a siren song to just turn the phone on and call someone to get the high you had been deprived of for weeks. After staring at the phone for what felt like hours, you snap yourself back to reality, standing from where you had sat on the edge of your bed and make your way to Briggs’ room, knocking on the door and waiting for permission to come in.

“What can I do for you?” Briggs asks with a smile after calling you in from where he was sitting on his bed, his laptop on his legs as he scrolls through files he’s not looked at for weeks as you close the door behind you.

“I need you to take this.” You say, practically forcing the phone in Briggs’ hand the moment you cross the room and reach his side, noticing his confused expression at the force behind your actions and your words.

“I’m sorry, why?” Briggs questions, discarding his laptop alongside him on the bed as he pushes himself more upright.

“I used that phone to contact people when I wanted a hit. I don’t trust myself at the moment to go around knowing that it was in my room. You can do whatever you want with it. Destroy it. Hide it. Bury it in a ditch for all I care as long as I don’t know where it is.” You say, not even able to bring yourself to look at the phone as you begin to pace anxiously. At your panic, Briggs gets up from where he is sitting, placing his hands on your shoulder, catching you in your pacing and ducking his head down to be in your line of sight.

“y/n/n. Breathe. I got you. You’re so much stronger than you think and the fact you’ve taken the initiative to bring this to me so you’re not tempted is a huge step and shows how seriously you’re taking your recovery and it gives me faith that you’re not going to relapse easily. I’ve got it handled. This phone is going to disappear off the map and you’ll never have to think about it again.” Briggs says softly, squeezing your shoulders ever so slightly to alleviate the tension he felt sitting there. He watched carefully as you nodded, exhaling softly before getting the courage to finally look Briggs in the eye.

“Thank you, Briggs.” You mumble appreciatively, the smallest of smiles gracing your face as Briggs nods, a smile of his own appearing.

“We have a meeting in a couple of days, it’ll feel scary and intimidating but I’ll be there too. And if the Bureau clears you for work I’m making sure you start off easy. I’m not letting anyone throw you in the deep end if I’m not there, okay? We’re going to figure it out.” Briggs assures you softly, his words giving you confidence that you’ll be able to get back to normality in time.

“Thank you.” You repeat, nodding as Briggs releases his grip on your shoulders, standing up straight and tucking the phone securely in his pocket.

“You don’t need to worry about that phone anymore. It’ll be gone before the day is up.” Briggs says with a quick wink, making you nod, grateful for the support Briggs was showing you when you knew he had no obligation to do so. With one final ‘thank you’ muttered, you turn on your heel and head out of the room, making your way back to your own room to grab a hoodie before heading downstairs to join the others who greet you with smiles.

“What are we watching?” You say, settling down on the couch alongside Mike who turns to look at you with a smile.

“Some western. Bello is obsessed with them so I’ve got to make sure my knowledge about them is top-notch.” Mike says as he settles back against the cushions, a slight sigh escaping his lips.

“And he’s recorded over all the shit I’ve recorded,” Johnny complains, entering the living room and dropping down on the couch next to you with a groan.

“I said they’ll be gone soon Johnny, stop complaining.” Mike fires back with a laugh as Johnny rolls his eyes.

“How’s it going with Bello, anyway?” You ask curiously, looking over at Mike.

“It’s going. He’s thinking about starting a deal with Odin. He’s hesitant because he knows going against the Caza Cartel can have pretty bad consequences.” Mike admits as you nod, unbeknownst to him that you had experienced the brutality of the Caza Cartel firsthand and could understand why someone like Bello was hesitant to move to another dealer.

“I can understand why he’s hesitant. From what I’ve heard, Caza can be brutal when they want to be.” You say, acting as nonchalantly as possible to avoid Mike and Johnny figuring out that you had a run-in with Caza, although you were fairly sure they had their suspicions after seeing the condition you were in when you had returned from Mexico.

“So, are you going to let Tim know you’re back? Honestly, I’d be surprised if he didn’t confess his feelings the moment he sees you.” Johnny says with a laugh, attempting to change the subject as Mike chuckles quietly, neither man noticing the dejected expression appearing on your face.

“I don’t know when I’ll see him. But we’re not going to start a relationship. He doesn’t like me like that. And even if he did, I couldn’t do that to him.” You say, eyes flicking to the floor as your knee begins to bounce anxiously.

“Do what to who?” Charlie asks as she enters the living room, having clearly heard the tail end of your words but not knowing the full context.

“She’s saying she couldn’t date Tim,” Johnny says, immediately ratting you out and ignoring your half-hearted glare as Charlie settles down alongside him on the couch.

“Why do you say that? He’s head over heels for you.” Charlie asks, her voice soft as she watches you carefully, not missing the tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah! He’s so in love with you and we can all tell you love him too. Come on girl you need to go for it! Put us all out of our misery here.” Johnny teases, making you grit your teeth as the tears continue to build.

“I’m an undercover agent. I can’t in good conscience date him when I work such a dangerous job. He deserves better.” You say, the tears slipping past their defences and trickling down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut, hands clutching the edge of the couch like it was a lifeline.

“Baby, you’ll never know unless you try. He’s LAPD, he understands our job more than most would. I’m sure the two of you could navigate a relationship.” Charlie insists softly, standing up so she can swap seats with Johnny, wrapping an arm around you and tugging you into her side the moment she sits down alongside you.

“I can’t put him through that. He deserves better than to be worrying about me when I’m undercover. And I won’t put a target on his back just for the sake of a relationship.” You say firmly, suddenly standing and making a beeline for the front door, wanting to get away from the questioning. You ignored the calls from the others as they tried to get you to stay but you feared that you’d snap if you endured any more of their pressing. You headed down to the beach, heading down to the nearest pier and sitting underneath it in the shade. It was hidden and peaceful so you’d at least have a small slither of time to yourself before someone tracked you down.

Your feelings for Tim were overwhelmingly strong. You truly cared for him and wished you could be in a relationship with him but you knew you couldn’t. You were close enough with Tim to have learnt about his ex-wife Isabel and her drug addiction. You also knew how badly it had affected Tim as well. With what Jangles and the Caza Cartel did to you, you knew it would ruin Tim to try and be in a relationship with you and you weren’t willing to put him through that pain again. You couldn’t bear to potentially get into a relationship with him and then relapse, putting Tim through the pain of you giving in to your past addiction.

The longer you think about what Caza has taken from you, your emotions begin to get the better of you, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as you mourn a relationship you never had in the first place. You longed to be able to tell Tim how you felt but you knew the risks associated with your job would put him in danger and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something happened to him because of you. As you continue to cry, you pull your knees up to your chest, burying your face in your knees to try and stifle your sobs as they rack your body.

“y/n!” You’re vaguely aware of Johnny’s voice calling out to you, followed by rushed footsteps as he approaches but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak or even look at him. You hear Johnny sit down alongside you yet you still don’t look up at him.

“Hey, y/n/n. I’m sorry for the jokes. It was stupid of me to do that.” Johnny apologises quietly his gaze fixed on the ocean ahead of him. Johnny felt so guilty for joking about your feelings for Tim the moment you bolted out of the house, he felt like he deserved the slap on the back of the head he received from Charlie after everyone had processed what happened.

“It wasn’t you John.” Your hoarse voice speaks up as you finally lift your head from your knees, turning your head so you can look at Johnny who turns to face you with a sad look, guilt written clear as day across his face.

“You don’t need to lie to me, y/n. I know I upset you.” Johnny says, a weak attempt at a smile creeping onto his face as he watches you carefully. You fought back the temptation to frown. Johnny was the brightest light within Graceland, he was always smiling and finding the fun in everything around him despite the job he was a part of and he had become like a younger brother to you during your time in Graceland. You hated to see him so upset over something that wasn’t his fault. You knew he was just trying to make light of the situation and you let your emotions get the better of you.

“Johnny, I promise I’m not upset with you. It’s just been a rough few weeks and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair of me to do.” You say apologetically, lifting your hand to wipe at your tears. Johnny then takes the opportunity to shuffle closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you gently against his side, smiling softly as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“I promise I won’t make any more jokes about you and Tim. I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Johnny says softly, making you smile as a small laugh escapes your lips.

“I don’t mind jokes, Johnny. But less jokes about Tim would be appreciated.” You admit quietly as Johnny nods before resting his head atop yours.

“You got it. One hundred percent serious Johnny is here to stay.” Johnny brags lightly, making you laugh once more.

“I give you a day before you start cracking jokes again.” You mutter softly, a smile on your face as Johnny gasps lightly.

“You wanna bet?” Johnny asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, if you make even one joke towards me before tomorrow is up, you have to buy my drinks next time we go to the bar. If you make it through tomorrow, I’ll buy your drinks.” You propose, lifting your head from Johnny’s shoulder and holding a hand out towards him.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. I can’t wait to have a night of free drinks.” Johnny brags as he lets go of your hand, both of you laughing softly as Johnny pulls you into a quick hug. Before the two of you can go back to conversing, you hear the sound of two people running, before they stop suddenly alongside you.

“y/n?” At the sound of your name, you pull away from Johnny’s embrace and look over your shoulder and see Tim and Lucy standing alongside you.

“Tim.” You say quietly, both you and Johnny scrambling to get to your feet.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Tim says, trying to keep his voice steady and neutral while his brain was running at one hundred miles per hour.

“I just got back today.” You say with a small shrug, trying to downplay your absence.

“Oh, right,” Tim mutters, a weak attempt at a smile on his face as he regards you softly.

“What brings you guys here? Tim hates the beach so it’s definitely a surprise seeing you guys here.” You then say, changing the subject and looking over at Lucy.

“We’re working a case and we found a piece of potential evidence. Then a dog grabbed it right out of Tim’s hand and ran off with it.” Lucy explains, her hands resting on her belt as she talks.

“I bet it was BD. What do you think, Johnny?” You say, glancing over at Johnny who nods in agreement.

“Sorry? BD?” Tim asks, eyes flicking between you and Johnny in hopes of an answer.

“Beach Dog. We call him BD for short. He’s known around here for snatching stuff and running off with it. We’ll help you track him down.” You explain before beginning to survey the beach, eyes squinting as you hope to locate the dog in question.

“We should split up. I’ll go with you y/n, and then you two can go around together.” You hear Johnny suggest, looking back at the group, ready to nod before Lucy speaks up.

“I’d actually like to go around with you if you don’t mind, Johnny. I have questions about the FBI and I’d love to learn more.” Lucy asks quickly, looking over at Johnny who in turn looks at you, quietly asking for permission. When you nod lightly, Johnny then turns to face Lucy with a wide smile.

“It would be my pleasure.” He says with a grin as he and Lucy head down the beach in one direction while you and Tim head in the other, both of you surveying the beach in hopes of spotting BD or the piece of potential evidence.

“So, what is it we’re looking for?” You ask quietly, realising as you walk that you have no idea what it is you’re looking for.

“It’s a scrap of a t-shirt. Chances are it could just be a random scrap of cloth but with this being one of the last known locations of our missing person it would be stupid not to consider it evidence until proven otherwise.” Tim says, following you down the beach.

“And BD’s just gone and stolen it from you. He’s the sweetest dog but he really will just steal anything. Stole one of Mike’s flip-flops his first full day here.” You mutter, slightly agitated at the dog for potentially hindering a serious case.

“Is he a stray?” Tim asks curiously as you stop walking for a moment to look around you, allowing Tim to catch up to you.

“Yeah, and he likes it that way. He prefers living out here.” You explain as Tim nods in understanding.

“I see. Well if he’s happy out here that’s all that matters.” Tim shrugs lightly.

“Exactly.” You mutter before noticing some tracks that look like they could belong to BD, beginning to follow them as Tim rushes to catch up to you.

“How have you been? You were gone for a while and Briggs wouldn’t give me much of a response when I asked.” Tim asks, watching you carefully as you feel your heart twinge.

“I’m fine. I needed the time away from everything and Briggs was the guy who could help me most.” You respond as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. In reality, you longed to tell Tim the truth but you longed to protect him so you attempted to close yourself off, acting cold and distant to try and drive him away.

“And did the time away help?” Tim asks softly, wanting to know if you are okay or not.

“I guess.” You shrug, trying to be as vague as possible to deter Tim from continuing to question you about your time away from everyone. Getting the hint that you don’t want to talk more, Tim falls silent and continues to follow you down the beach until you find BD lying in the sand, a scrap of cloth in his mouth as he studies you carefully, ears perked.

“Hey, buddy. We need that. Is it okay if I have it?” You asks the dog softly, beginning to crouch down to his level but you quickly realise that BD was going to see this as a game as he gets to his feet, his eyes never leaving you.

“I’ve got something you might like a little better. How does a treat sound?” Tim asks the dog, digging in one of his pockets for a small pack of dog treats, extracting a treat from the packet and offering it towards BD who drops the scrap of cloth, allowing you to scoop it up while Tim gives BD a treat who accepts it happily, allowing Tim to pet him briefly before bolting off down the beach, now uninterested in the two of you.

“You just carry dog treats around like that?” You muse with a small smile, raising an eyebrow as Tim shrugs lightly.

“I went into a store earlier to ask some questions and I saw these treats. I thought my dog would like them.” Tim says with a small smile, tucking the treat packet back into his pocket as he talks.

“You never mentioned having a dog.” You say, shocked that you hadn’t known that information about Tim.

“Yeah I have a dog, his name is Kojo,” Tim says as the two of you begin to make your way back towards where you had split up with Johnny and Lucy.

“Can’t believe you kept that information from me.” You tease, laughing softly.

“You’ll have to meet him sometime.” Tim then says, his voice softening as he glances over at you. He longed to spend more time with you outside of your jobs but he never wanted to push your boundaries.

“Maybe. We’ll see.” You reply, suddenly sobering up when you remember the rules you had set in place to protect yourself and Tim. Sensing that the conversation was ending, Tim radioed Lucy, letting her know that you had found the missing item. As you approach the meeting point, you see Lucy and Johnny chatting as they wait for you to arrive.

“Chen, we’ve got it,” Tim calls over to her, making both Lucy and Johnny approach the two of you as you dig the item out of your pocket holding it out towards Lucy.

“I don’t know how good this would be as evidence. It’s got dog slobber all over it.” You say apologetically as Lucy takes it from your hand.

“Forensics are good at their job. They should be able to find something of use here. Hopefully.” Lucy says, tucking the scrap of cloth away in a zip-loc bag.

“Forensics can find anything. If this evidence is useful, it won’t take them long to find something.” Johnny says confidently, lightly bumping Lucy with his shoulder and chuckling.

“Johnny’s right. You guys should get that to forensics so you can find out if it’ll help your case or not.” You say, looking from Tim to Lucy and back again as they nod in agreement.

“That’s true. Come on Lucy, let’s go and see if this was worth chasing a dog down for.” Tim mutters, nodding over at Lucy who mirrors his action.

“We’ll see you around,” Lucy says to you and Johnny before turning to leave with Tim, both of them heading back in the direction they had come from. You and Johnny watch them leave quietly before looking over at each other.

“We should probably head home before Charlie freaks out, huh?” You say quietly as Johnny nods.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like being murdered so the sooner we get back the better,” Johnny replies, gesturing for you to follow him and the two of you begin to head back to Graceland to spend the rest of the day relaxing.

A month later, you had gotten back into a regular routine. You weren’t ready to tackle undercover cases yet, so you had elected to work as a liaison between the FBI and the LAPD, offering support with tact teams and advice for any officers tackling any undercover cases. You had been regularly attending Narcotics Anonymous meetings with Briggs and with the support of him and the other meeting attendants, you had managed to earn yourself your one-month sobriety chip. You were so proud of yourself for getting this far. Some of your days were rougher than others, you’d be in a foul attitude and you’d snap at anyone who dared talk to you but on other days you were fine. Your good days were beginning to outnumber the bad ones and you were beginning to feel more and more like your old self. Your only issue was that you were still hiding what happened to you from everyone. You felt like the others in the house deserved to know about your struggles. Briggs might be okay hiding his struggles with addiction from the others but you felt like you were living a lie every time you looked one of them in the eye. You even felt like you owed it to Tim to be honest with him too. You had been spending more time at Mid-Wilshire and it was getting harder and harder to lie to him and pretend like everything was okay. You were willing to take the risk to tell him even if it meant he stopped talking to you altogether.

Tim had noticed your distant behaviour and had attempted to talk to you several times as well as trying to invite you to spend time out of work. Each time you had turned him down, telling him that you had planned things with the others or whatever excuse came to mind. Despite what Tim had been saying previously, Tim had found himself incredibly jealous of your closeness to Briggs. He regularly dropped you off and picked you up from Mid-Wilshire and Tim never missed the tight hugs and the gentle kisses Briggs would place upon the top of your head. He had no idea what had happened to prompt such a sudden bond between the two of you but it hurt to think that it could potentially be more than platonic between the two of you. After a month of you avoiding him and barely speaking more than a few words to him, Tim’s jealousy started to get the better of him and one evening after you left with Briggs, Tim decided to follow you.

It was easy to spot the orange Bronco even in nighttime LA traffic so Tim was able to follow from a reasonable distance so he could avoid being spotted. The drive was about twenty minutes long and Tim soon found himself parked outside a building and heading in. He had no idea where in the building you had gone but he could hear movement on the next floor so he carefully made his way up the stairs and headed towards the room with an open door, hearing a conversation begin to die down and just as he reached the door he saw you stood at the front of the room before a small crowd of people. Just as you prepared to speak, you looked up and locked eyes with Tim who had paused in the doorway, watching you softly. It took you by surprise at first, and all you could do was stare, shocked that he was there. Pulling yourself together, you took a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you inhaled before finally getting the courage to open your eyes, watching Tim once more as you began to talk.

“Hi, my name is y/n and I’m a heroin addict.” You said, the same way you had weekly since Briggs started making you attend these meetings. You watched Tim’s reaction carefully and did your best to conceal your building tears when he continued to watch you, the shock evident in his eyes. You continue to talk, opening up about how you’d struggled a little since the last meeting but taking a moment to be proud of your achievement now that you had reached one month of sobriety. When you had finished talking, there was a small ripple of applause from everyone seated in front of you, including Tim from his spot in the doorway as you sat back down alongside Briggs. Tim decides to step out into the hallway as the rest of the meeting continues, waiting patiently for you to come out when the meeting is over.

When people began to file out of the room, Tim headed towards the door, seeing you and Briggs talking to another member of the meeting and you looked over at him, nodding in acknowledgement before excusing yourself from the conversation and making your way over to Tim.

“Hi.” You mumble quietly, the atmosphere awkward between the two of you as you stand before him, eyes looking everywhere but at him.

“Hey. Can we go somewhere more private?” Tim asks quietly, and you nod lightly.

“Is everything okay here?” Briggs asks, sidling up alongside you and watching Tim carefully as if he were a threat.

“Everything’s fine, Briggs. I’m going to chat with Tim privately. I’ll find you when I’m ready to head home.” You explain, turning to look at Briggs who nods, unconvinced.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few.” Briggs says, embracing you quickly and kissing the top of your head in support before releasing you, allowing you to head out of the building with Tim, finding somewhere quiet to chat. You find a bench overlooking the ocean, both you and Tim sitting down on it and watching the waves quietly for a moment before Tim speaks up.

“Did that happen to you in Mexico?” He asks quietly, his gaze fixed on the dark waves lapping against the sand.

“Yeah… Caza clearly knew who I was. They knew if news of my addiction got out, all my cases would be reopened and investigated. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You explain, tears welling in your eyes as you apologise.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Tim asks softly, finally turning his head to look at you, sadness written across all his features.

“I wanted to. But I remembered what you told me about Isabel. I couldn’t put you through that pain again. You don’t deserve it.” You say quietly, watching as Tim shakes his head.

“You didn’t need to do that. I would’ve wanted to support you in your recovery. I still do.” Tim insists, his eyes growing watery before he blinks furiously to rid himself of the tears.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks and Tim wasted no time in pulling you into his arms, holding you carefully as if you’d fall apart in his arms if he wasn’t careful.

“You don’t need to apologise. I’m sorry for following you all the way here. I wasn’t thinking straight and I let my emotions get the better of me.” Tim apologises, continuing to blink his own tears away as he holds you.

“I should’ve just told you sooner. That’s on me.” You say, sniffling as you cling to Tim.

“Don’t blame yourself. You went through something I could never fathom. And I won’t press you for anything more if you’re not ready to.” Tim says as you begin to pull away slightly so you can look him in the eyes.

“It was so much and I didn’t know what to do. It was weeks after I got back that I finally asked for help.” You admit tearily, lifting a hand to wipe at your eyes.

“And that was so brave of you to do. It took Isabel over a year to accept any help and I offered any time I could to help. The fact you’ve gotten help this soon and worked on it is incredible.” Tim says, his smile gentle as he talks, encouraging you to give him a small, weak smile in response.

“Briggs has been a massive help through it all. I wouldn’t have gotten through this without him.” You admit, thinking of your friend and how much he had been willing to help you.

“Is that what’s been going on with you two? You’re not… together?” Tim asks, aware that he might be pushing but his curiosity and jealousy were gnawing at his stomach and he didn’t have time to process what he was saying before it left his lips.

“Definitely not. Briggs is like an older brother to me. He figured out what was going on with me and like I said, he’s been my support system through all this.” You explain, waving your hand dismissively as Tim’s eyes fall to the floor, a slight blush covering his cheeks in his embarrassment.

“Sorry, that was completely unnecessary of me to ask and it wasn’t the place or time,” Tim says, rambling to try and recover from what he had just said.

“I don’t mind. I can understand why it might look like we are together.” You say with a soft smile, shrugging lightly to let Tim know you didn’t hold any bad blood about his question. The two of you then fell into a comfortable silence, but you could tell there was something Tim wanted to say so you waited patiently for him to get his confidence, wondering what it was he wanted to say to you.

“Hey, this is probably the worst possible time to say this but I owe it to you to be honest. I got jealous seeing how close you and Briggs were recently. It reminded me of what I was missing after you got back from Mexico because we used to be close. Maybe my feelings for you were just fuelling my jealousy I don’t know.” Tim explains awkwardly, fumbling to find the right words as he looks everywhere but at you.

“Feelings for me?” You ask quietly, shocked that Tim had admitted such a thing when you’d gone so long assuming that he didn’t see you in a romantic light.

“Uh, yeah. I have feelings for you. And have done for quite a while now.” Tim admits quietly, finally finding the courage to focus on you once more.

“Well, I guess I can’t lie to you anymore. I have feelings for you too. But I don’t want to hurt you.” You say softly, wanting to be completely transparent with Tim.

“Why do you think you’d hurt me?” Tim asks, tilting his head slightly in his confusion as you bite your lip, trying to fight back tears at the mere thought of hurting Tim somehow.

“What if I relapse? I don’t want to remind you of what you went through with Isabel. On top of that, my job is dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” You explain your fears as Tim softens.

“If you relapse, I’ll be there to help you every step of the way. I promise. On top of that, yes, your job may be dangerous but it’s not like I have no idea what your job entails. Isabel used to work undercover so I know what can happen. I can protect myself. Neither of those reasons is enough to scare me off. If you want to, I’d like to try a relationship. We can go at your pace.” Tim says, his voice gentle but his words confident and strong. He wanted you to know that if you were all in, he was too. He wouldn’t let himself be scared off easily.

“Are you sure?” You ask quietly, longing to just accept Tim’s offer but your mind was getting the better of you, making you overthink.

“I’m positive. But it’s up to you.” Tim confirms, making sure you know where he stands.

“I’d like to try a relationship too.” You reply shyly, both of you smiling lightly at each other before Tim embraces you once more, neither one of you wanting to break the embrace until you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you, making you pull away and look behind you, seeing Briggs stood behind you with his arms crossed.

“Are you ready to go?” Briggs asks with a quirked eyebrow, clearly noticing the shift in energy between you and Tim.

“I probably should head home. I think I’m ready to tell everyone else about what happened. They deserve to know.” You say over to Briggs, fighting back a frown when he lets out a disappointed sigh.

“y/n, I don’t know if you should tell them. You’ve already burdened a member of the LAPD with this secret. If you tell the others they’ll be forced to carry it too.” Briggs says, making Tim clench his jaw before he stands up from the bench. He crosses to Briggs as you leap up to follow him, not wanting to witness a potential punching match.

“Hey, you have no right to tell y/n who she can and can’t tell. I am not burdened with her secret. She’s trusting me with it and I’ll keep it like my life depends on it. If she trusts everyone else in the house why shouldn’t they know?” Tim states angrily, stopping his approach towards Briggs when you place a hand on his chest.

“Fine. She can do what she wants, but this isn’t the first time I’ve warned her.” Briggs says after a brief staring contest between the two men before gesturing for you to follow him so he can take you back to Graceland.

“I’ll bring her back.” Tim volunteers, sticking close to you.

“Okay then. I’m going to head back, the others are probably having a campfire so you can join us whenever you are ready.” Briggs says, his voice losing its harshness as he directs his words to you but you already know how much he disapproved of your wishes. After he walks off, climbing into his Bronco and driving off, Tim turns to you.

“Are you okay? He was really harsh.” Tim asks, his eyes studying you worriedly as you nod.

“I’m fine. That’s just Briggs. He wants to do what he can to protect Graceland and everyone in it.” You dismiss with a shrug, following Tim to his truck, getting in the passenger seat when the vehicle has been unlocked.

“He didn’t need to make it seem like your battle with addiction is a burden,” Tim mutters as he starts the engine, pulling out of the parking spot and beginning the drive to Graceland.

“He’s not entirely wrong. Secrets have burdens. I know telling people can be bad, to give them such a big secret for them to protect is a lot to ask.” You say, your eyes fixed on the window beside you, watching the streetlights zip past, creating a blur of light.

“Still, if they’re close friends, it makes sense for them to know.” Tim justifies, his eyes fixed on the road.

“We’ve always had a saying that there’s no secrets at Graceland… unless you’re Briggs. They deserve to know. I haven’t told them a thing about what happened in Mexico since I got back.” You say, feeling guilt tugging on your heartstrings for all the lies you’d told your friends.

“If you want, I can be there with you as moral support,” Tim says, taking a brief moment to glance at you before focusing on the road again.

“You’d do that?” You ask, a slight shock in your voice as you look over at Tim who nods.

“Of course, I would. I can’t imagine this is the easiest thing to talk about and you’re about to talk about it for the second time in one night. If you want me there, I’m there.” Tim says as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, making a small smile appear on your face at his willingness to support you.

“I’d like that.” You say, watching how a small smile tugs at the corner of Tim’s lips as he continues to drive.

When you arrive at Graceland, you notice your friends sitting around a campfire on the beach and you tell Tim to follow you, both of you making your way down to the beach where everyone greeted you and Tim enthusiastically.

“What can we do for you two?” Charlie asks as Tim sidles up alongside you.

“I needed to talk to you guys about something. I haven’t been completely honest with you all since I got back from Mexico.” You say, taking a shuddering breath as all eyes fall on you and as if it was instinctual, Tim reaches out and takes your hand in his, squeezing softly to show his silent support.

Listening to you explain what happened to you in Mexico made Tim’s heart hurt. He hated having to listen to the pain you had been through and how long you had tried to deal with it alone before Briggs realised what was going on. Tim wasn’t too keen on Briggs, but he’d always be grateful that he noticed what was going on with you and helped you through everything. By the time you had finished explaining everything, tears had flowed down your face and stained your cheeks. At first, no one said anything, and as you readied yourself to apologise and talk about moving out, everyone got up from their place around the fire and rushed over to you, trapping you in a group hug as Tim relinquished his hold on your hand and stepped back to let your friends support you.

“Thank you for telling us,” Charlie says softly, wiping at your cheeks with her thumbs to get rid of the fallen tears.

“Your secret is safe with us, girl.” Johnny then says, followed by murmurs of agreement from the other members of the group. Feeling comforted by the support of the others, you thank them all quietly as they pull away allowing Tim to step back towards you, wrapping an arm around your middle and pulling you close, a gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. You spend a few minutes talking with your friends, telling them how your recovery has been going. They seemed to respect that it wasn’t the time to enquire about Tim and what your relationship may be with him at the current moment. After chatting for a while, a yawn slips past your lips.

“I might have to call it a night, guys.” You say apologetically, bidding everyone goodnight as Tim escorts you to the back door of Graceland.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Tim asks quietly, taking your hand as he stands facing you.

“I’m not sure where I’ll be at work tomorrow, but if you want to see me after work I’m sure we can figure something out.” You reply with a smile, squeezing Tim’s hand as he smiles softly.

“Well, I do need to take you on our first official date,” Tim says with a raised eyebrow, making you laugh softly.

“You’ll have to tell me the plan tomorrow.” You say before getting the courage to lean in and press a soft kiss to Tim’s cheek.

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tim says softly, pulling you into a hug and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you whisper goodnight in response. When Tim pulls away, you both whisper one final goodnight before he backs off, making his way back to his truck as you make your way into the house, heading up to your room and wasting no time in getting ready for bed and climbing under your sheets with a smile. As you curled up in bed, you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief, you’d gotten the courage to do something you thought was impossible and now you had a bigger support system than ever.

You’d be okay.

Tim Tags (comment or ask to be added):

@callsigns-haze @fore45fore @reignsboy19 @xi1dius @plutotcles @lives-in-midgard @mystical-258 @malindacath @cuntyvicodin @brewolfhowl @child-of-the-sunshine

[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal lector x teen!reader - ensure you’re safe

Hi 👋🏻 Saw you wanted to try to write for Hannibal characters and for me the easiest way to start writing for Hannibal was to write like a therapy session with Hannibal. So thought maybe you could write teen!reader or just regular reader at a therapy session with Hannibal, of course there’s no worries if you don’t write it, just thought it might help you out <3 I will probably request something with Will later as he’s my fave character but can’t come up with anything right now - @panic-in-the-multiverse 💜

TW: mentions of abusive parents

Sitting outside in the waiting room to your new therapists office, you sighed heavily, pulling your headphones back over your head.

You weren’t sure what you wanted to do, a large part of you wanted to just leave, but you had to be there, the officer sitting next to you was there to make sure of that.

But just because you had to be there didn’t mean you had to say anything, or actually take part, you simply just had to attend the session.

You watched as a bit of paper was held out in front of your face, and you sighed, turning your gaze to the man sitting next to you, pulling your headphones back down.

“What?” You snapped.

“Don’t be rude, keep your headphones down, and please try take part.”

“I don’t see why I have to, I didn’t do shit wrong.”

“Well, apparently everybody else sees differently kiddo, so please try.”

You stuck your middle finger up at him, pulling your headphones back over your head to carry on blocking out of the world.

You weren’t paying all that much attention, but you did notice when the officer next to you stood up and you turned your head to look at him in uninterest as he spoke to the man who came out of the office.

Then he turned back to you and pushed your headphones down.

“You’re up kid, I’ll wait out here to take you home but then you’re on your own to make sure you come to these sessions, got it? Twice a week.”

“Get lost Daniels.”

“Alright, but remember no wondering off because we’ll know.”

You just scowled and he grinned a little at you, holding up your bag for you to take as you stood up.

“This is Doctor Hannibal Lector, he’s going to be your new therapist, be polite, respectful, and remember to keep your temper.” Daniels warned.

You said nothing as he left, and you turned to the therapist.

“Hello (Y/N), would you like to come in?”

You set your bag down and sat down back in the chair you were waiting in.

Hannibal smiled slightly, and closing his office door, walking over to sit next to you, sitting forward slightly, clasping his hands together.

He took a moment to study you, how uninterested you were, the fact you wouldn’t even look at him, you were dressed in ripped jeans, well worn trainers, a hoodie.

But it was your face that he was drawn to, the stitches on your eyebrow, a little bit of dried blood just at the side, clearly you had ripped one or two earlier that day. What looked to be a broken nose, split lip, and from the brief glance of your knuckles he had gotten they were bruised and blooded.

He made a few mental notes before he finally spoke first, seeing you weren’t going to initiate a conversation with him.

“Would you like to start by telling me a little bit about yourself?” He asked.

“No.”

“Well, how about we start with why you’re here. Why have you been referred to me (Y/N)?”

“You have my file. You know why.” You grumbled.

“Yes, I am aware this is court mandated therapy. I would like to know why you think you were sentenced to therapy, what are your thoughts about this?”

You didn’t say anything, you just slumped down in the chair, pulling your hood up so he wasn’t able to look at you.

“You have no interest in being here.” He noted.

“Nope.”

“I see, yet you’re staying for what reason? What happens if you walk out of those doors before our session has ended?”

You didn’t say anything, and he just sat there silently for the rest of the session with you.

Every session went the same, you would sit outside, refuse to come in or answer his questions, then the pair of you would sit outside the office while he read or made notes and you listened to your music.

It went that way for nearly two months, and Hannibal followed the same routine this time around, opening his office door and you looked up at him.

He paused, taking in your bloodied hoodie and nose.

“(Y/N), what happened?” He asked.

You got up, and he stepped aside, holding the door for you as you walked in for the first time since you began to see him.

Hannibal carefully closed the door, watched as you walked around until you stopped by the ladders and you sat down on them.

“There are more comfortable places to sit if you would prefer.”

“I’m fine.”

He hummed a little bit, sitting in a chair as he looked over at you.

You were one to keep your distance, so he wanted to respect that boundary and stayed where he was on the other side of the room.

“Are you? In the two months that we have known one another you have never stepped foot inside my office until now. Today is the only day you have come in looking as if you were in a fight just before arriving.”

You didn’t say anything.

“I have read your file numerous times, you’re known for your rather unpleasant temper, you have been arrest on multiple occasions for assault, your most previous charge is listed as aggregated assault.”

“So what?” You snapped slightly.

“There is no need to get angry, I am not here to judge you. I am simply here to assist you, find out why you are so angry all the time and what led to your anger.”

You pulled the sleeve of your hoodie down, pressing it to your nose, wiping some of the blood on it.

Hannibal got up, walking over he took the handkerchief from his pocket and held it out to you, making sure he kept his distance.

“I don’t need your help…” you grumbled.

“Well, blood can be rather hard to wash out of clothing, you may ruin your jacket if you keep that up.”

“It’s a hoodie.”

Hannibal chuckled slightly.

“Very well, you will ruin your hoodie.”

“Like I said, don’t need your help.”

Hannibal sighed, laying the handkerchief down on the floor just a few steps away from your and he clasped his hands behind his back.

“You are a deeply mistrusting person, I understand that. But perhaps if you are willing to give someone a chance you will see that some people can be trusted.”

You glanced up at him, then quickly averted your gaze, going back to looking at the floor instead, but he knew you were watching him.

You had your head lowered, but just barely high enough to look at his shoes.

“Who hurt you?” He pressed carefully.

“What makes you think I didn’t start it?”

“The lack of bruises or scrapes on your hands, your clothes are rather dirty, defensive wounds I would say. Am I correct?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Maybe I just like it, getting into fights and all.”

“I have a reason that perhaps you don’t enjoy it.”

You looked up at Hannibal, getting up and you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

“Maybe I do. Maybe it fun, beating the crap out of someone until their blood is all over their face, watching as they beg me to stop, to leave them alone. Maybe I like the fear in the eyes.” You taunted.

“Is that so?”

Hannibal watched as you studied him, getting a read on him, trying size him up to see if you could take him on in a fight or not.

“Do you want to hurt me (Y/N)?”

You didn’t say anything.

“Who do you really want to hurt? When you get into all these fights you claim to enjoy, who do you think off when you’re knocking them to the ground and beating them within an inch of their lives?”

“No one.”

“Anybody with that much rage thinks of somebody, targets somebody.”

You just scoffed, making your way past him to head to the door.

You left without another wait, having reached the exact time limit of the session and Hannibal walked over to his desk, opening his book.

He wrote down what you had told him, and sat reflecting on it.

Clearly you were an angry person, you were a teenager with a lot of anger and hatred, but not at the world.

It was directed at one single person, because if your anger was random he had no doubt in his mind you would’ve already tried to attack him, but you didn’t.

You simply just refused to acknowledge whatever he said, you didn’t attempt to hurt him.

Intimidate? Yes. But not hurt.

It was a few days when your next session came around, and you walked into the office once more, taking a seat in your usual spot, this time a little more slowly.

Hannibal frowned, but carried on his session.

And he began to pick up on every time you came into the sessions either hurt, or fresh out of a fight.

And the timeframe between these seemed to get smaller and smaller, up until the point today.

Hannibal opened his door and you looked worse than ever as you pushed past him, dripping some blood on to the floor, limping into the middle of the room.

You took a few shoe breaths and he closed the door, making his way over to you.

“(Y/N), can you hear me?”

You slowly turned to him, nodding your head, stumbling a couple of steps.

“Tell me what happened? Who did this to you?”

You shook your head, slowly sitting down on the floor so you wouldn’t have to get blood on any of his furniture.

“Stay here, I will call the police, and for an ambulance.”

“No!”

Hannibal turned at your outburst, and you looked at him, rage with slight fear mixed in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare, don’t… don’t call anyone…” you warned.

“Alright.”

Hannibal set his phone back down and he walked over, kneeling down in front of you, resting an arm on his leg.

“Tell me what happened.”

You took a small breath, leaning back on one of your hands.

“I fucked up… real bad doctor Lector… like.. like real bad…”

“I need you to tell me what happened.” He pressed carefully.

You sighed a little bit.

“He got drunk again, got pissed, I talked back. He swung for me so I fought back, hit him with a chair. She got pissed at me, pushed me down a few stairs.”

“Who is the ‘he’ you keep referring to?”

“My dad.”

Hannibal nodded his head.

“I assume the ‘she’ would then be your mother?”

“Bingo, right on the money doc. I can see why you’re a therapist.”

Hannibal noticed how you deflected the serious topic with unserious remarks or a slightly snappy tone towards him.

“I see, you are aware that I have to call the police, and I strongly recommend you allow me to take you to the hospital. A fall down the stairs is not something to take so lightly.”

“You call police and I’m gone.”

“Why?”

You stayed quiet, shifting a little with pain and he sighed.

“You have strong issues with authority, but unfortunately I have to call them, I have a duty of care to ensure your well-being. Which means if I suspect that someone or yourself will cause you harm I have to report it. I can request to be with you every step of the way if that makes you comfortable.”

You pushed yourself up with a grunt of pain, stumbling a few steps backwards and Hannibal quickly stood up, placing his hand on your back to keep you stable.

You moved away quickly, and made your way to the door.

“At least allow me to take you to the hospital.” Hannibal said.

He turned around to get his keys from his desk and when he turned around you were gone.

He sighed, picking up his phone in order to call for your parole officer.

He had had the number his his phone since the first session, but he had never had to call the officer about you.

Not until now.

He quickly relayed on the fact that you had come into his officer severely injured.

You hadn’t made it far when Daniels picked you up, despite the fact you tried running you couldn’t exactly outrun a police officer in your injured state and you were taken to the hospital.

The ran some tests, stitched up your cuts, and placed you in a room while you awaited the results of your tests.

“So, want to tell me what happened?” Daniels asked.

“Go fuck yourself.” You growled.

“Hey, I want to help kid. But I can’t if I don’t know what happened to you.”

“You know what happened you prick, you all know what happened but you won’t do fuck all about it!”

“Calm down right now.”

“Or what?!”

You ripped the IV out of your arm, and you stood up, nearly falling to the side but you didn’t falter.

Daniels stood up as well.

“You can’t do shit.”

“Look, doctor lector is on his way, and they’re taking your parents in for questioning right now but you need to stay here.”

“Like fuck do I have to stay here. You can’t hold me for shit.”

You barged past him, throwing down the tray as he tried to follow you.

It would stall him for a few minutes while nurses and doctors quickly tried to gathering everything up so nobody would get hurt.

You left the hospital, making your way to your usual hideout spot when you didn’t want to go home.

It wasn’t the best, an old and abandoned construction site, but it was full of more than enough hiding places, and you went to your favourite one.

Sitting in the concrete pipe, you rested your back on a blanket you had in there, closing your eyes as you breathed through the discomfort.

Your phone was ringing endlessly, and you turned it off, getting bored of hearing the sound.

Though the silence was helpful when it came to hearing the creaking of the large metal gate being opened and closed.

“(Y/N), I know you’re here, come out so we can talk!” Hannibal called.

You stayed quiet.

You knew he would eventually and it only took a few minutes for him to appear at the entrance to your hiding spot.

He offered you a gentle smile.

“You need to go back to the hospital.”

“No.”

“Your parents are currently in custody, you’re safe. Nobody here is going to hurt you, nobody there will hurt you either.”

You scoffed.

“You really believe that? Give it a day or two, they’ll be back out.”

“Yet you always go back, why?”

“Because I have to, court order. Every. Single. Time.”

Hannibal sighed, and he offered you a reassuring smile.

“Come with me, I assure you that no more harm will come to you.”

You didn’t believe him, you simply just left the other end of the pipe you were sat in and Hannibal got up to follow you.

“You have internal bleeding, if you do not go back to the hospital you’ll die within hours.”

“Great, makes life easier for everybody. Gives me a way out.”

“Do you wish to die?”

You paused, giving the man a chance to walk over to you and stand in front of you.

“Do you wish to die (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“So, allow me to take you back to the hospital then. We will let the surgeons fix whatever inside you is bleeding, then when you wake up I will be right there waiting.”

“Yeah, and they’ll be there too.”

“You have my word, you parents will not be allowed in the room.”

You scoffed.

“Yeah, I’ll take my chances bleeding internally.”

“What if I can prove to you that they won’t be allowed in the same room as you?”

This seemed to gain your interested, and he gestured to the front of the construction sight.

“Do you see that man over there?”

You nodded.

“His name is Jack Crawford, he works for the FBI. He has read over your case file, he along with another agent will be outside your room the entire time you are there in recovery while we sort a safer place for you.”

Hannibal held his hand out to you.

“Do you trust me, even just a little bit?”

You looked at him, and you slowly nodded your head.

Hannibal smiled, walking over and he reached out, wrapping his arm around you, letting you hold his other arm to steady yourself while you both walked.

“They will never hurt you again (Y/N).”

Hannibal helped you into his car and got into the drivers seat, adjusting the mirror, wiping the little bit of blood that was on it so you wouldn’t see it

[1moreff-creator]

DRDT CH2 EP16 First Impressions

We’ve reached the end of the chapter! A bittersweet feeling, finally getting closure on this chapter while also ushering in a new hiatus. Still, congrats to dev for making it this far! Hope they enjoy their break, while we enjoy whatever they’ve cooked up for the ending!

Without further ado, let us enjoy peak.

Spoilers for the entirety of CH2 (hell yeah). CW: Execution, suicidal thoughts.

It’s Aceover.

ONE vote for Teruko! Do we think Ace voted for himself? Did the mystery voter from Trial 1 repeat their vote on Teruko? Or did they not, and the vote’s just Ace? {Hindsight: It’s CH1 Mystery Voter probs}

MonoTV: “You got it right!” IT’S ALL OVER.

Okay wait it’s actually kinda weird to see the new David sprites outside of the Trial. Like it’s trippy idk why. That’s crazy.

Eden: “Why her of all people?” Poor Eden, at least give her an answer! Even if it’s just “it was the easiest option” man.

Whit: “I really thought that no one would repeat what happened to Xander and Min.” Is this the very first piece of anti-Whit Time Loop theory evidence? Or is he just lying? I don’t believe the theory, so I’m passing that one to the defenders.

Ace: “I killed her. And if you can’t forgive me for that, then there’s nothing I can say.”

Hey remember when Nico said they didn’t see the point of saying sorry if they wouldn’t be forgiven anyways? Yeah.

The foils are foiling :O

Both Teruko and Eden blaming themselves in their own way (Eden mentioned it in Ep10 “just like Min!” and now Teruko’s bringing “misfortune” into the conversation), man we are in for some sad times with these two. And everyone else ig.

Hu: “How could you say it’s just misfortune?” And Hu is very against this idea, interesting.

“So we can’t blame ourselves for failing to prevent something like that.” Ah, there’s the ticket. She’s trying not to feel guilty about it, which is kinda fair, Arei’s death is 99% Ace’s fault.

Eden: “The Ace I met for the first time wasn’t a murderer.” Oof, Eden hitting us with the full highlight line. She’s so great for this honestly. Everything she says afterwards is also great for her character, I love her (and I don’t need to read her lines with suspicion!!! I’m free!!!)

Veronika. And she’s still smiling. Go worst girl! /affectionate

“The only thing anyone can do in this killing game is to shatter.” We are… getting worryingly close to secret quote wording here.

Rose: “Are you saying Ace was pushed into killing because of things like almost being killed?” (Paraphrased) Oh God she’s gonna feel guilty too because she let Nico get the turpentine! Even if that doesn’t work if Ace had already chosen to kill Eden, still! How much self-blame can we have this trial?

Teruko: “No.” Yeah thank you.

Ace: “Did you all get the Veronika virus or what?” God I’m gonna miss him so much actually.

[To Levi] “Shut up for the rest of your life and kill yourself!” Holy SHIT he’s going out with a bang. {Hindsight: I didn’t realize how accurate this would be}

David: “You still have it in you to throw stones in your glass house.” Did this motherfucker correctly use the idiom Ace fucked up earlier? He’s such a piece of shit /affectionate.

Ace: “I don’t care if it made me a hypocrite!” AGH-! New sprite and the voice acting continues the hot streak of being absolutely fucking stellar! Holy hell!

[To Levi] “I just needed a reason to stay mad at you!” Ouchie!

[The whole Levi v Ace thing] This is just fucking incredible. Levi still doesn’t understand, Ace just wanted to stay mad so he could live with his betrayal, just peak character writing all around. And peak VAing, of course.

Teruko: “I need you to do a favor for me. It might just save your life.” YOOO I CALLED THIS!!! Blackened Blaze of Glory let’s fucking goooo!!!! Thanks to shinycrows for asking me that!!!

“Kill MonoTV for me.” Alright so. Not the best plan ever, but then again, it’s not like any plan against the killing game will work on CH2. Also the way she said that was great.

MonoTV: “Yeah, more murder!” Why’s it so funny for?

Teruko: “Arei died because you’re a coward, Ace!” YO why’s she going so hard right now?! This entire scene is incredible, I don’t even have any words for this much peak. The emotion in her voice, holy fuck- Oh yeah because Arei’s crying reminded her of something! In the playground! So Teruko does have a small connection with Arei so she’d feel real bad (for more reason than just death of someone she knew)! I didn’t put that together till now.

[Ace punches MonoTV] PEAAAK! Oh shit it actually broke! That was so fucking awesome! Let’s fucking go Ace!!!!! Also MonoTV is definitely just coming back, right?

That broken MonoTV sprite though!

Eden: “Finally, it’s over—“ The lack of music is making this really impactful, even though we know it won’t work. Holy shit.

MonoTV: “A fatal error has been detected” We breaking out different fonts?

MonoTV: “Now loading the default XF-Ture personality drivers.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AND THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD!!!!

Now we have the question. Was MonoTV created by XF for the game? Or did XF just create the AI, and someone repurposed it for thre killing game?

Also what are these defaults going to be?

…Wait whose voice is this? Someone we know? Please tell me I’m bad at recognizing voices! {I think it’s still MonoTV’s VA, just doing a different act, but I’m not sure}

[MonoTV speech] Didn’t expect MonoTV of all damn characters to have a badass moment, but I guess this is the world we live in now.

“But there is no reason to punish Ace a second time.” UHHH Chat are we cooked?

The death of every participant? This is about rule 14, right? “All murderers must be held accountable”? The “everyone is responsible for Mai’s death and must be punished” theory seems to be gaining ground.

It’s also saying this is why it was created, so XF likely did have a direct hand in the killing game. Min MM not looking so implausible all of the sudden.

“I will pass the punishment…” chat we’re actually immensely cooked what.

“I will now proceed with the execution of Teruko Tawaki.” UHHH LUCK BETTER COME IN CLUTCH!!!

[Machine Gun] BRO?!?!?!

Charles: “That thing will surely kill you!” Even Charles is sounding extremely distressed here, damn! But I guess Teruko is relying on her luck maybe?

Whit: “Charles! Stop talking and cover your eyes!” I mean yeah good advice but you know- More pressing things atm

Teruko: “No :)” Why’s she so silly coded?

Teruko: “Killed? I doubt it. As if something so kind could happen to me.” AAAAAAH!!!! The suicidal tendencies return with a vengeance!!!

[Her speech] Holy fuck holy fuck this is crazy she’s actually doing the unhinged Lucky Student thing of relying on luck she’s going in I’m so terrified for what’s about to happen.

“I’ll show you all what it means to be the Ultimate Lucky Student.” Shit boutta go crazy.

[LEVI DOES THE THING] OF FUCKING COURSE!

Bro I was not ready for this. I wasn’t ready in the slightest. This motherfucker better survive against all odds or it’s all over.

Bro that sprite- He’s so cooked.

MonoTV: “His injuries are not fatal” Wait are we saved? Arturo look I know you’re not a doctor but for the love of God tell me you can do something about this holy shit. I wasn’t ready for this.

VERONIKA. Holy shit she’s actually insane.

Arturo: “He could live…” Please??? For me???

Wait now that I’m thinking about it. He hasn’t said his secret quote. We might be saved.

[Whit sprite] … Huh??? Bro what the fuck is happening this episode.

Ace: “Execute me right now!” Ough this shit insane!!! I can’t- I genuinely can’t react. I’m just overcome with emotion at this point.

“I’ll have a third death in my hands!” … Wait the math. Unless he’s counting himself… does he blame himself for Taylor’s death???

[The entire Arturo - Ace debacle] I…holy shit???? The genuine distress in Arturo’s voice when he says he can’t save Levi??? Ace clinging to the hope that he can??? Bro what the fuck??? This is insane???? I can’t- I can’t compute- This is actually insane. This is so much. Levi better not fucking die after this I swear to god-

Ace: “I don’t want to die…” Holy shit dev did it. I’m feeling just as bad for Ace as I felt for Min. Bra-fucking-vo. Holy fuck. No words.

[Thanatophobia]

(Fear of death right? Fits)

… Okay, so. I know someone brought up this term in relation to Ace. Genius, first.

Second, that might just be one of the greatest executions I’ve even seen, if not the best. I usually don’t care much about how good executions are, but this… this is incredibly good. The music was banging. The execution method was unique. It wasn’t related to his talent, but his character, which makes it better imo.

(Also are the “unexplained illnesses” related to Xander’s family?)

And even through all this… dev showed the corpse. When they didn’t show Min’s. Why would you allow me to cope even further? You drop XF and show a corpse- holy shit. I just can’t even process anything.

And he didn’t say his quote. He never said it I don’t think. Levi better survive.

VERONIKA. Holy shit she’s actually getting more and more unhinged by the second the hell-? Yeah remember when she looked unnerved by Min’s execution?!?! She ain’t looking unnerved no more!

Hu: “The elevator is open!” We’re just- gonna ignore- Alright, I guess it’s fair. Surely Levi survives right?

Rose please tell me you looked away. I know you saw Levi so it’s not looking great either way, but still.

Teruko: “Go on without me.” Is she going to talk to David maybe? About the secret?

“Everyone was gone.” Alright no, she’s just going to mourn or something?

[Teruko reflects on her similarities to Ace and Arei] I really like this moment, it’s nice of her to say what the audience was probably already thinking.

MonoTV: “I must convince everyone that I’m the villain.” And what does this mean MonoTV? Genuinely too burnt out to think about it any harder rn.

MonoTV: “That is the fate that I have, to make others suffer.” HOW ARE WE TYING MONO FUCKING TV TO THE THEME OF FATE?!?!?!WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE HAVE TO TALK ABOUT FUCKING “TERUKO-MONOTV PARALLELS” WHAT THE FUCK?! DEV YOU SON OF A BITCH YOU DID IT AGAIN!!! /positive

[Teruko breaks down] Holy hell…

“I had known the answer…” AUGH- The character writing… it’s so good… fucking hell this is incredible…

Where do we even go from here? Teruko’s speed running the themes of trust and fate like they’re not the main themes of the series?!?! I’m going crazy.

… Are we seriously leaving it on a cliffhanger whether Levi is alive or not? Like, I know the “surviving students” thing counted him, so I’m guessing he’s alive, but… hot damn. This is an evil cliffhanger.

(Also I find it funny that David’s silhouette sprite did in fact change to what the dev said was his new default lol)

“Seems there’s something he’s not proud of” The nailbiting right.

-

General Thoughts

…

…

…

…

Bro how the fuck am I expected to even begin to summarize this shit?!?!

Okay, in… ascending order of crazy.

Did David just… not speak almost the entire episode? Did he even have any lines when Teruko was being executed? The fuck is going on with him? He didn’t even reveal Teruko’s secret???

Veronika was unhinged. Loved that for her. Hope she gets worse, it seems like CH3 will be a fun chapter for her (I hope that doesn’t mean she dies).

Whit officially gets his very own unhinged/breakdown sprite! We’ve completed the set! I mean, it’s not as crazy as others, but it matches Rose’s so…

Everyone endures further trauma, fun.

I even feel bad for Arturo! Poor guy did not ask for this shit! There’s fun foils here with Levi trying to protect the group as much as he can and Arturo being forced into the role…

Also. Of all ships. I did not expect Aceturo to get a dub here somehow.

I somehow called more or less predicted what Teruko was gonna do. Fun how that happened. And her little character reflection at the end was awesome, I loved it very much. Jesus fuck.

That’s gotta be the best execution I’ve ever seen, hands down. I don’t care that there wasn’t a single horse there. This is much better.

Also, no secret quote from Ace. So those are 100% not a good metric for defining who is at risk of death. Wonder if that means we’ll get a flashback with him?

XF-Ture Tech?!?!?! MonoTV character building kinda?!?!?!?! I’m going crazy?!?!?!

Levi??? This motherfucker better be alive. There’s no reason he should be dead, so I’m gonna assume he’s alive. But wow… I guess weightedblankettt was sorta right on the “final orbit” interpretation of Levi’s connection to Shoemaker-Levy 9, just… not in a way we expected. (If that meant nothing to you don’t worry about it).

And Ace… Hot damn. Just… an entire character arc at the eleventh minute, huh? How’s that for the people who were saying Ace wouldn’t be remembered, huh? Levi probably owes him his life, in a way. He broke MonoTV. He faced his thanatophobia to try to help Levi survive. Just… so fucking good. I said it in the reaction. I genuinely felt just as much grief for him as I did Min. And coming from me, that’s… a lot. Just incredible writing and voice acting and everything in between…

This cements it, btw. This is my favorite trial from anything DR related ever. It’s genuinely insane. I am going to make a more detailed, more coherent post analyzing the entirety of Part 2 of this chapter, because it deserves it. It deserves more thought than I’m able to give right now on account of feeling too many emotions. Stay tuned for that, I guess.

Props to the dev, the VAs, and anyone who might have laid a hand on this at some point. It’s genuinely incredible, this is an unforgettable experience. Holy shit.

I don’t- I don’t have the emotional energy to keep writing. Just… I think I need to calm down for a few hours. Genuinely loved every second of this. Thanks for reading, and see you when I gather my thoughts enough to trust myself to be coherent.

[crimsoncandy04]

Halloween offer. Scaramouche in a costume: ulona, ​​Scream, Vampire any to your taste. Wants to kill us trying to find us in a big house where they threw a party. 🎃

Posts have been slow today and I'm sorry for making you and everyone wait.

(it was my laundry day ☺️ it took a bit but now I can write in clean/lavender scented sheets. Plus my favorite blankie is soft again 🥰❤️)

So here is your request.

(Albeit a bit behind schedule) ( please forgive me 🥺😖)

Jealousy was a nasty emotion. An unsightly feeling that made any respectable human look stupid and deranged. At least that's what Scaramouche had originally believed before he discovered that a certain brother of his had done the unthinkable. No. The unforgivable.

Kabukimono KNEW that Scara liked you. And yet he STILL accepted your confession and started dating you.

He didn't even attend the same university as you and still just believed he could have you when CLEARLY Scaramouche would have been the more convenient pick! It's not that they looked any different anyways...Scara could EASILY act more whiny and insufferable if he needed to, since you APPARENTLY had a type.

The audacity of the little pipsqueak.

He wouldn't let this betrayal slide.

No.

Kabukimono would pay.

YOU would pay.

And so Scara quickly began to set everything up for his revenge plan.

Getting rid of his triplet brother would be the hardest part. But he decided that it would be easiest to frame his end as a tragic accident.

Adding something he was allergic to in his food would be easiest. Especially if he hid it well and convinced kabukimono to eat after he took his medicine.

The police would see that he was already under the effects of sleeping medication. And conclude that in his dreary mental state, he must've accidentally eaten something that was deadly to him and rule his death as an accident.

It was perfect.

However, just before Scaramouche pulled it off, fucking WANDERER nearly messed it up completely by asking Scaramouche why he offered to make dinner and clearly added something to the pot that Kabu couldn't have.

He brushed it off as a mistake and assured his other kin that he would make something else but as soon as Wanderer left, Scaramouche went back to scheming.

He knew he succeeded when he got a call from the local hospital with Wanderer on the other end screaming his head off about Scaramouche being a piece of shit and accusing him of purposely harming their baby brother.

Scara just hung up.

That little shit had it coming.

But now his attention was back on you.

Beautiful, funny, charming... STUPID...you.

No. He had to remain strong.

You were clearly in the wrong. How could you not have seen the way he looked at you? The way he'd leave little gifts on your desk? The way he'd always drop EVERYTHING to spend time with you if you just as much as mentioned that you were lonely.

You did this on purpose just to fuck with him huh?

You'd regret that.

One of the most popular men on campus (Aether) had recently announced that he was going to throw a huge Halloween party at his house. Everyone who wanted to come could as he and his sister (Lumine) were well regarded for their kindness and easy going attitudes socially. Therefore the event wasn't exclusive and they made it clear that everyone going was to just have fun and have a few drinks regardless of anything going on in their lives outside.

This opportunity couldn't be better for Scara. He relished in the idea of being handed such a perfect chance to get you alone practically on a silver platter.

Now he just needed a fucking costume.

A day had passed since the party announcement and eventually Scaramouche found the time to shop for a costume. A typical store bought vampire outfit. Nothing special, he didn't plan on staying honestly. Just wanted to get you and then leave. There was no need for an elaborate or expensive costume.

However once Scaramouche arrived at the party, he realized that finding you might be more of an issue than he originally considered.

Aether and Lumine clearly came from a well off family to put it simply. Their home was nothing short of an old money mansion that had more square feet to it than the number of citizens in the town. And as Scaramouche crept inside the painted giant oak doors along with the rest of the crowd, his eyes widened in sheer disbelief as he took in the giant foyer and circular iron staircase as well as the high ceilings and marble floors.

Where the hell were you in this absolutely unnecessary amount of likely inherited living space?

Scaramouche slowly made his way through the crowd of guests and made it upstairs safely. Pausing to look below only once as his heart practically stopped.

Wanderer had just entered.

He wasn't dressed up either and he had his phone out which meant only one thing.

He was looking for Scara.

Quickly Scaramouche fled from the stairs to the upstairs hall. A long corridor with six doors lining the walls in total. He could hear voices and the muffled sounds of people fucking, however as he crept closer to the end of the hallway, he managed to catch your voice finally.

However it was coming from the stairs.

Fuck.

Scaramouche crept back towards the top. Careful to not make much of a scene as he tried to blend in with everyone else he passed and appear nonchalant.

What were you wearing?

He heard you laughing then. Sharply turning his head to face the group of people that were drinking and chatting near the railing. However he couldn't spot which one was you. He saw two men dressed as a cartoon character and an actual banana. The rest of the group consisted of 5 women. Three were wearing generic witch costumes while the other two were some kind of robot and a maid.

Scaramouche tried peering at their faces but was quickly given a look and was forced to look away. Not that he had had much time anyway as he glimpsed Wanderer coming up the steps too.

Scara hurried away.

He guessed you were probably one of the witch girls he didn't see very closely and ducked into a closet nearby to wait out Wanderer while also spying on you and your two friends.

You sounded drunk. But oddly enough it was almost cute to him. The way you laughed at stupid things and sang along to the music playing downstairs. Going as far as to poorly mimic the sound of the instruments with your own voice as you gave little care to your surroundings.

Eventually you wandered off. And so did Scara's brother thankfully.

He tried to trail you now. The knife he had brought still safely tucked into his pocket as he struggled to guess which room you were in now.

Scaramouche couldn't wait to make you pay for playing with his emotions like you did. Just the idea of seeing your pretty face contorted with fear as you struggled to move underneath him while he pinned you down. He could just hear the sounds of your adorable shrieks of pain and terror as he plunged the blade into your chest. The satisfaction he would feel, knowing that HE had been the last face you saw. The last man that would be in your mind as your eyes dulled and your body slowly bled out beneath him.

Finally you would know how he felt when he saw you with his brother at that stupid park that day.

The suffering he had been put through. The pain in his chest that YOU had inflicted upon him.

Scaramouche crept into the first empty room. Nothing. Just some random girl that lay passed out on the floor. Some other girl was clearly high as she sat on the bed staring at the ceiling blankly.

He shut the door angrily.

He heard you talking again.

The end. She's near the end of the hallway.

However before Scaramouche could head that way, he glimpsed a blue and white hoodie out of the corner of his eye and immediately ducked back into the room he had just left as Wanderer passed by the door and greeted you as you spotted him.

"Wawan! You came! Wait where's Kabu? Is he busy or something? I really needed to see him today."

"he's fine. He just had a really bad allergy attack yesterday. He's at home resting now. By the way, have you seen Scaramouche anywhere? I need to discuss something with him but I can't find him."

"no. I haven't. I thought he didn't like parties so I didn't bother looking for him."

"don't worry about it then. It's no big deal anyway. Just text me if you do see him. Have fun Y/N. I'll see you next week."

Finally he left after that.

Scaramouche quickly made his move.

However you were fucking gone AGAIN by the time he got to the end of the hall and picked the lock on the furthest door.

Swearing to himself and turning back around, he spotted your hat above the crowd and quickly stalked after you as you went back downstairs.

Several people were suspicious of him now as he had done nothing but creep around and hide since he had arrived and as he followed you into the kitchen, more heads turned his way.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This was NOT as easy as he thought it would be.

Scaramouche quickly put on a fake smile as he pretended to be grabbing some pizza and ate it in the corner as he kept his eyes glued on you.

Your long dark hair fell over your plump ass in the most sensual way in his opinion. Your smooth skin glistened in the harsh bright lights. The way your soft voice sounded so breathy and kind even now as you slurred your words and tried to hug someone only to spill your drink on yourself.

Your thin black dress clung to your hips and emphasized your full figure beautifully as you struggled to wipe off the excess beverage from your chest with a napkin someone handed you.

Gods how Scaramouche could just feel his cock harden in his pants at the thought of being able to yank down that tight dress and expose your fat tits to him as he leaned down and gently bit one of your nipples between his teeth.

But no. He couldn't. You didn't want him.

You wanted his lousy and probably terrible lay of a brother instead.

Scaramouche struggled to understand what you even saw in that brat as he followed you out the back of the kitchen and through the small hallway behind it. You were heading for the bathroom at the end and he knew it was now or never.

If Scaramouche couldn't have you.

No one would.

You stumbled through the door just as he lunged in after you. Quickly shutting it and locking you both inside.

You had no idea what was going on.

"oh Scara! I thought you were at home with your brothers. Sorry I really need to pee. Can you wait outside for your turn in the bathroom? I don't feel comfortable with you while I'm here too.

Suddenly Scaramouche grabbed you by your shoulders and flipped you around. Pinning you against the bathroom wall as he swiftly pulled out his knife and held it to your throat.

"I'll bet you would be just fine if I were Kabukimono though hmm? You'd let HIM be in here with you wouldn't you?"

Scaramouche's hand shook as he pressed the blade into your tender flesh. A thin crimson line forming as he continued.

"so did you have your fun? Did you and him just LAUGH it up as you joked about how PATHETIC I must've looked trying so hard to get your attention for so long?"

"S-Scara... please you don't understand! We're not together!" You pleaded.

He just rolled his eyes.

"yeah right. I SAW you two meet up after evening class last month. DON'T fucking lie to me bitch."

"I'm not lying! Check my phone if you don't believe me!"

Scaramouche paused. Inching the blade away from your neck just a little.

"what? What do you mean?"

"just look. I didn't know how else to try and talk to you. So I befriended Kabu in hopes that he'd help me figure out how to spend more time with you." Your voice trembled. You shook physically as Scaramouche felt his entire inside grow cold.

No way.

He pulled your phone from your purse and easily unlocked it. Scrolling through your messages. His entire face went blank.

Shit.

He fucked up.

BEYOND fucked up.

You suddenly began to cry.

"please don't kill me! I didn't mean to make you mad! I thought you hated me because we never talked! Please just let me leave! I wanna go home!"

Scaramouche's heart raced.

No no.

This was bad.

You'd NEVER talk to him again after this.

You'd probably even call the police.

Wanderer would hear the story and put two and two together as to what happened to Kabukimono.

He'd absolutely beat the shit out of him and that was if Scaramouche DIDN'T get the shit beat out of him in prison first for two counts of attempted murder!

He knew he was fucked.

And so he gave in to the thoughts in his head.

"I'll let you go. But first..."

Scaramouche pulled you back against him as he continued to hold the knife to your throat. His free hand grasped your boob as he leaned in and gently nibbled the side of your neck.

"If I never get the chance to touch you after this, I want to enjoy myself tonight."

Using his blade, Scaramouche then brought the weapon downward and cut open the front of your dress. Your nipples grew hard as the cool air hit them. Your pussy getting wet despite the circumstances.

You tried to push Scara away from you but he clung on tightly. His entire arm wrapped around your waist as he pushed you towards the floor. Once down, he slapped your ass HARD as he pulled down the back of your dress next and exposed more of you to his predatory gaze.

His eyes linger on your curves as you feel his hand carefully trace the outline of your sex through the fabric of your panties. Cupping your pussy as he pulled your hair aside and kissed your neck again. Leaving a small trail down your back as his lips stopped on your ass cheek. He then gave it another slap before suddenly cutting away your underwear too.

Your glistening sex was a sight to behold. So wet and plump. So warm and inviting. Scaramouche couldn't help but give your lower lips a little lick as he dug his hands into your hips and pulled you against his face.

"Scara~" you whine. His tongue is deep inside of you then. He doesn't stop.

He laps at your delicate inner walls greedily even as you writhe on the floor. Your drunk body doing very little as you slump against the bathroom tile. The pleasure being too much for you in your current mental state.

You hear him sigh and moan a little against your cunt as he gives some attention to your clit next. Licking in a small circular motion as he makes your legs shake. Only stopping when you cry out and your juices squirt into his mouth.

Scaramouche swallows every drop hungrily as sits up and then flips you finally. Settling between your thighs as he frees his cock and teases your opening with the head.

"Scara you can't...I could get pregnant ~" you moan. Your words simply go in one ear and out the other as he slides into you roughly.

"good. If you do, everyone will know who this pussy belongs to and no one will DARE take you from me. Besides..." He picks up the pace. Yanking your knees up further as he fucks deeper into you.

"I think you'd look so cute all swollen with my child." He places a hand on your lower abdomen as he begins to go even faster now. His climax quickly approaching.

You moan and gasp as he hits your sweet spots repeatedly. Causing your lower body to tighten as you feel yourself cumming again. This time alongside Scara.

He takes a few deep breaths before slowly pulling out of you. Your body limp from the assault as you lay completely spent on the floor before him.

Fuck.

There was no coming back from this.

Scaramouche pulled out his phone and shot Wanderer a quick text. Telling him everything before tossing it over his shoulder and going back to focusing on you.

You were clearly still intoxicated. But your face was glowing as the aftermath of your orgasm still has you relaxed and tired. Scaramouche knew he'd be in deep shit for this. All of this.

But he still had one plan in mind.

He slid himself back into your tight heat and began to thrust into you once more. Your soft moans already driving him wild. And this would just be the beginning.

Before the night was over either Wanderer or the police would arrive for him. Or maybe both. But that didn't matter anymore.

Scaramouche still had a good 45 minutes with you before anyone would find you both.

That was plenty of time to ensure that at least when he was behind bars, that you and your body would be forever marked by him.

And that he'd have a new son or daughter waiting for him upon his release.

[readsaboutreid]

Detangling | S.R. imagine

this is just gonna be a short little imagine because i can't bring myself to write anything more right now and i could imagine spencer being the absolute best partner about a situation like this

You walk into the door and Spencer follows behind you. You hadn't spent as much time at your apartment since you and Spencer started getting serious, but your place was closer to the theater he had taken you to for a showing of a documentary on your favorite subject he had surprised you with tickets to go see.

After about 45 minutes of watching Star Trek on the couch together he asks you a question you'd been hoping he'd avoid asking. "It's really warm in here, love," he mentions, "why don't you take off that beanie?"

"I-I'm cold," you mutter, not meeting his eyes.

"You're flushed and sweating," he reasons, stroking a finger down your cheek before putting the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel feverish. Is there another reason you're wearing the hat?" He asked with a knowing look in his eyes before you break down crying. "Wait no, please don't cry, I'm sorry I-I didn't mean to upset—" his panic is cut off by your sigh.

"It's okay, Spencer," you exhale shakily. "I'm just—I, uh, I've been feeling a little bit down recently and my hair is kind of a depression rats' nest." Your cheeks heat with embarrassment but you finally meet his eyes, which soften with understanding at your confession. "I've been hiding it with the hat until I can just go to a hairdresser and probably just have them cut it all off. It's what my mom used to make me do if I let my hair get this bad and it's kind of just the easiest way to make myself presentable again."

Spencer wraps you into a tight hug on the couch next to you. "What, uh, what if I were to help you so you don't have to cut it all off?" he asked softly, before hastily adding on, "unless that's what you want to do."

Next thing you know you're going into your bathroom and returning with a hairbrush and sitting down on the ground in front of him.

"I'm sorry about this, Spencer," you mumble as you wait on the ground in front of the couch, between his open legs. More tears prick your eyes from embarrassment and your lip trembles. "You shouldn't have to take time out of your day to take care of me like this."

"Hush, I won't hear any of that nonsense." Spencer chides from above you as he grabs the hairbrush you had approached him with. "I like taking care of you, and that's why I offered do this."

"But I—I'm an adult," the tears that welling in your eyes start to fall down your cheeks and your voice breaks as you pull your knees up to your chest. "I should be capable of taking care of myself by now!"

You hear Spencer sigh above you before you feel him shift around on the couch. He stands and walks around where you're seated until he's on his knees in front of you. He gently pulls your hands from your face, kissing each one of the palm softly and then holding them in his own. In his eyes you can see none of the shame or disgust you're expecting to see. Instead his eyes are filled with love, understanding, and concern.

He's quiet for a moment before reaching out to wipe your tears away gently. "Did you know that there are approximately 280 million people worldwide who suffer from depressive disorder? That doesn't even factor in those who suffer from depression as a symptom of an underlying physical or other mental illness." He leans in and kisses both of your cheeks. "I know there's no magic thing I can say to make you feel better, but just know that there's no shame in struggling. Or asking for help from those who love you."

"O-okay," you stammer as you look at him again before he stands and moves back to his spot on the couch. He slowly begins working his way through the tangles, holding your hair and pulling the brush through until eventually your hair is fully detangled and in need of a wash. "Th-thank you, Spencer."

He pulls you up and kisses your forehead before wrapping you into another tight embrace. "Never be afraid to ask for help when you need me, sweetheart," he whispers.

[winchester-girl67]

Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort

Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon. 

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"

Pairing: Dean x reader 

Word Count: 902 

Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff 

A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy. 

_____

“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!” 

Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door. 

You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed. 

The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse. 

You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again. 

You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt. 

First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home. 

Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest. 

It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture. 

Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.

You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left. 

Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow. 

Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been. 

"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features. 

His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled." 

"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door." 

You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you. 

He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to. 

You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax. 

"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little. 

You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest. 

"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours. 

Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon. 

There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy. 

Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark. 

He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together. 

And maybe you could both finally get some sleep. 

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

[wooahaes]

cake crumbles

pairing: non-idol!woozi x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au. some slight comfort.

warnings: anxious jihoon who just wants everything to go well. proposal mentions. food.

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: he :( <3

“Okay. We can fix this. It’s not too late.” 

The only things holding Jihoon together right now was both Soonyoung and Vernon’s presence right now. But he hadn’t stopped staring at where your birthday cake had been dropped onto the floor, smashed into a mess of blue and white icing. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to clean up the mess in Soonyoung’s apartment. Soonyoung was on his knees now, tossing it into a bag to be disposed of properly once it was all done. It had all happened too quickly. One minute he’d been moving it to a different space on the counter, and the next he’d been lying on the floor, body aching from his slip, and the cake was destroyed. The little party he’d planned was hours away, and he’d ordered this cake specifically for you…

“I think grocery stores do plain buttercream cakes,” Vernon said, fingers covered in blue as he dropped another chunk of cake into the trash. “It’s not as special, but we can get them to write her name on it.”

“She likes those cakes,” Soonyoung nodded. “That’s what we did for my birthday last year.” 

Right, but those weren’t made for you. Jihoon had gone out of his way to slowly figure out what you’d love the most. He sighed, and moved to get paper towels to wet and clean up the remaining icing. “I don’t know. I wanted to get her something special…”

Vernon looked up. “It’s just her birthday. I know she’s special, but—”

Immediately, Soonyoung started to smack his arm. He shook his head, and Vernon slowly connected the dots.

“Oh.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Dude—Today?”

Jihoon quietly nodded, then stopped. “I mean—Not technically?” He sighed, leaning back. “I was going to ask her when we went home. It’ll be after midnight, so it’d be tomorrow, and—”

Vernon nodded. “Alright. Look,” he pushed himself off the floor. “I know some people. Maybe one of ‘em could help do us a favor.” 

Something inside of him seemed to crumple like tissue paper at how easily Vernon seemed to take charge right now.  That should be what he was doing. You were his girlfriend, his love, and yet he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the spiralling thoughts that he’d fucked this all up. He knew what you would say now, though: that it was fine. That you didn’t need a birthday cake to be happy. But today needed to be perfect for you. You treated him with so much kindness, always so gentle but clear with how much you loved him. Jihoon wasn’t always the loudest with how much he loved the people in his life, but he hoped that his love was clear, too. This was supposed to be part of his big gesture, the thing that screamed to the skyline that he loved you wholeheartedly. The other part was the box still tucked away in his pants pocket, even now. He carried it with him most days, just in case he ever felt the inclination to forego his plans…

Maybe he should have. Then he wouldn’t be so stressed right now making sure everything went right. 

Vernon had already stepped away, calling someone to see what they could do on such short notice. Soonyoung, on the other hand, had helped him wipe up the remaining icing. The floor needed to be mopped soon anyway, and then the scene of the crime would be entirely taken care of. By the time it was all taken care of, Vernon already had a name and a place to go—which led to Soonyoung pushing Jihoon toward him, saying he could handle setting up the rest. 

He’d described as basic a cake as he could: vanilla, decorated with buttercream in blue and white, with maybe some flowers on it if the baker could swing it. All it needed to say was ‘Happy birthday’ and your name. The easiest thing that they could make, he would accept as long as it tasted good. With the order placed and a time given to pick it up, Jihoon stepped back out onto the street with Vernon at his heels.

“So…” He’d soon fallen into step beside him. “It’s not just about the cake, is it?”

Jihoon slowly nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. Anything to look more casual instead of the nervous storm he was inside. “If I don’t make it right… Then I’m going to feel like I failed her.”

“You could literally show up with just a thing of Oreos and she’ll love you.” Vernon looked over. “It’s fine to be nervous, but I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could upset her.” 

“I know, but…”

Vernon bumped into him, just to get his attention back on him. “You two love each other a lot, dude. It’s gonna be alright.” 

Jihoon could only hope that it would be.

Hours passed quicker than Jihoon expected them to. He and Vernon had returned to Soonyoung’s apartment and helped him set up for your little birthday party. Seungcheol had thankfully agreed to drive the cake over, careful as he could be, while Jihoon had to return home to you. He’d fed you this plan to go out for a movie and then dinner, hand hovering over his pocket. The box was right there. Maybe it’d be better for him to leave it somewhere safe here, but he felt better carrying it on him. 

“Jihoony?” You had turned from where you were putting on an earring—one of the ones he bought you last year for Christmas. There’s a playful lift to your voice, smiling at him. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, making his way over to you. “Everything’s perfect,” he said. Yet the pit in his stomach didn’t seem to shrink at all. He had hoped that saying it aloud would do something, and yet…

You fastened the earring into place, and then reached forward to cup his face. “Jihoony.” You let out a long sigh. “I know.”

“You… know?”

“One,” you said, “Cheol accidentally let the party secret slip when I asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner. And two…” You shut your eyes for a moment. “Remember the other week when you came home exhausted from work? You changed, ate dinner, and then went straight to bed…”

Oh no. Oh no. He swore he had tucked the ring box into his bag after he drove home. “So, you…”

With a soft kiss against his lips, you leaned back. Your chapstick tasted like birthday cake, all too fitting for today. “Whenever you ask, I’m going to say yes.” 

Jihoon met your eyes. “Even if it’s tonight?”

“Maybe wait until we’re alone,” you said, as if he hadn’t always planned for that. “But yes,” you giggled. “Tonight included.”

Jihoon reached for your hands, taking them into his own. The words already started to pour out of him before he could even think twice, “I dropped your birthday cake earlier. We got a replacement, but it isn’t the one I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” 

Instead of saying anything else, all you did was step back as you laughed. He’d fallen in love with your laugh long ago, but hearing it now he swore he was falling in love with the sound all over again. When you faced him again, you were smiling harder than before, even more radiant this time.

“As long as I get to enjoy it with you,” you said, “I’m going to be happy.” 

All at once, his anxieties disappeared. He leaned in, lips brushing against yours for just a few seconds. He knew he would kiss you properly once the two of you were home again. But for now, he’d leave you with something fleeting, just to leave both of you wanting more. “Happy birthday,” he said for the second time today, hands resting at your waist. “I love you so much.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[colleendoran]

Misunderstanding

I received a note from someone who was upset I “failed to cite Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics” in my research for my work on Neil Gaiman's Chivalry and the essays I wrote about it. 

I really appreciate that people want to make sure credit goes where it's due, and I have a lot of respect for Scott McCloud's accomplishment with his wonderful book.  

I haven't read it myself in some years, and didn't cite it in my articles because I didn't reference it. I don't even know where my copy is so I don't know what McCloud referenced, either. 

The information in my articles re: illuminated manuscripts and the Bayeux Tapestry, as well as other theories about the development of sequential art from prehistory, not only predate McCloud's work (and in fact, predate McCloud's birth,) but they are so common and so well known in comics circles that asking me to cite them seems as weird to me as asking me to cite the information that George Washington was the first President of the United States.

A part of me wonders if someone is trying to play, "Let's you and him fight." 

No.

But I’m happy to bring to your attention some reading material.

Stephen Becker in his 1959 work Comic Art in America: A Social History of the Funnies, the Political Cartoons, Magazine Humor, Sporting Cartoons, and Animated Cartoons was among the first to discuss the Bayeux Tapestry as comic art. I read that book sometime in the 1980’s. I think a lot of people assume the Bayeux tapestry as comic art was McCloud’s idea, but we don’t all walk around with a reference library in our heads, so there you go. I can’t find my copy of Becker’s work to quote, but I did find an article by Arthur Asa Berger with a mention of the Bayeux Tapestry as comic art in the summer 1978 issue of The Wilson Quarterly.

My first exposure to the idea of comics as descendant of fine art was Maurice Horn’s 1976 The World Encyclopedia of Comics which was my first read re: comics history. I still have my tattered 1976 edition. 

While Horn scorned the idea that tapestries and manuscripts could be comic art (see, it was a matter of discussion way back then, so much so that authors were writing snarky asides to one another about it,) he believed the origin of sequential art was in the Renaissance sketches of Leonardo da Vinci - which I think everyone now agrees is kind of a bonkers idea.

I think Horn was just intent on elevating the comic art form by hooking up with da Vinci.

You go, boi.

Comics as descendant of art on scrolls is a very common theory, the easiest to trace being in Manga! Manga! The World of Japanese Comics by Fred Schodt published in 1983 when I was still a teenager. I can't find my copy to show examples, but this text is still in print and you can go read it for yourself. 

I was introduced to manga by cartoonist Leslie Sternbergh and bought Schodt’s book at Books Kinokuniya on (I think) a trip to New York around the time of first publication of Schodt’s work. And years later took a trip to Japan with Fred Schodt and a group of cartoonists including Jeff Smith and Jules Fieffer, Nicole Hollander, and Denys Cowan as the guests of Tezuka Productions.

Here we all are.

So, I’m familiar with manga, see.

As for comics as descendant of cave paintings, hieroglyphics and ancient art in general, Will Eisner’s 1985 Comics and Sequential Art not only made all of those points, but made those points with comic art examples. Like these.

And this.

And this.

And more than a few words on this:

I find it amusing that someone is questioning why I didn’t cite McCloud when what you should probably be questioning is why more people don’t cite Eisner who produced his book eight years before McCloud published his and who is well known to have influenced McCloud.

Whatever. My book's autographed.

I also danced with Eisner. Eat your heart out.

Understanding Comics is a terrific work with huge advantages over every book (that I know of) about comics that came before: it taught comics entirely in the language of comics. 

But the discussion in it about the origins of comics and my work especially re: illuminated manuscripts/tapestries, did not originate with McCloud. I research illuminated manuscripts because it’s my hobby and it informs my art. 

I encourage everyone to read Understanding Comics because it is an outstanding work.

But it’s not the book that introduced me to the concepts of the development of comic art. It’s not even the point of origin of those concepts. So, there is no reason to cite it.

Also, shocking as it may seem, I occasionally come up with ideas on my own. While I'm younger than McCloud, I've actually been a comics pro longer than he has. So I've had plenty of opportunity to, you know, read things and toss things around, and decide for myself.

When I first read Chivalry and first begged Neil Gaiman to let me adapt it, my head full of the work of Alberto Sangorski and his art for Tennyson’s Le Morte D’Arthur, Understanding Comics hadn’t been published yet.

It's been a good twelve years since I last read McCloud's work, and I don't think I've spoken to him five times in the last three decades. But I'm pretty sure he never mentioned Sangorski.

I hope that clears everything up, and maybe introduces some of you to some works you might not be aware of.

Have a great day.

[avocado-writing]

hiii your bg3 writing is so *chefs kiss*

I was hoping you'd be able to write the companions' reactions to a bard!tav, giving them a private serenade one night. like they lead them to a clearing away from camp one night and there's a picnic set up and tav sings a song they wrote specifically for their love?

if all the companions is too many, could you please specifically do Halsin, Astarion, Minthara and Wyll?

oh, cute! going to give you a lute, as I think that’s easiest!

Astarion

he makes a comment about how he feels the picnic was a bit unnecessary as he can’t eat it, but you mention you’re his snack later ;)

you sit him down, pour him a glass of wine, and pull out your lute

you ask, suddenly uncharacteristically shy, if you can play him something.

he cocks his head to the side and nods.

your fingers dance across strings, and when you start to sing, he realises it’s a song about him.

you once offered to be his mirror, and tonight you repeat that. your song is about how lovely he is, in every way. how he’s handsome but kinder than he wants to admit. brave. fierce.

its the most sincere celebration of his character he’s ever heard, and by the end of it, he’s left shocked.

“oh…” “did you like it?” chewing your lip, nervous.

“it’s… you’re…” he really doesn’t have the words to convey how you’ve made him feel. so he gently takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

the kiss gets deeper. the lute is abandoned. so, really, is the picnic. the music the two of you make then is of a different kind.

later, when he has time to come up with a suitable review, he will tell you how much it meant to him. you are his favourite musician, and he has a new favourite song.

Halsin

oh, he’s been around for a long time, but this is the first time someone’s done something like this for him.

he’s just sat in bowled-over silence as you play for him, and it is amazing. an epic ode to his life and kindness, how strong and handsome you think he is.

he comes closer as you sing, sitting right next to you. studying every inch of your face as you perform.

when you’re done, he tells you that it was the loveliest thing he’s ever heard.

“I’ve heard pods of whales singing as they meet up with their lost family… until now, it was the sweetest sound to have graced my ears.”

he gets you to repeat the song and turns into different animals to enjoy it, be it via vibrations or different ways of hearing. either way he wants to be surrounded by your music, and you.

Minthara

absolutely no idea how to respond.

she was brought up in a cutthroat world. this softness is new to her.

she remains quiet for a while as she tries to work out if you’re trying to get anything from her. is this a trick?

”oh, I’m sorry,” you say after a while when she’s just been staring. “did you not like it?”

”no. no, it was… play it again.”

you do, and she really listens to the lyrics. they’re about her beauty. how glad you are to have met her. her strength in battle and soul.

she’s exceptionally moved.

“this is… a priceless gift that you’ve given me. I have no way to repay you.” “I don’t need repayment. it was freely given.”

she kisses you, for she has no way else to thank you. you have moved her more than she thought possible.

Wyll

you play and he listens. his eyes and smile go wide.

absolutely enraptured. claps when you’re done, and cheers your performance. you laugh and bow for him.

he tells you how much you mean to him, what a sweet gift this is. how your love is his most treasured possession.

he reaches into his pocket… and takes out some paper.

“I… I know this is incredible timing but actually… I wrote you something, myself.”

and he starts to read out a poem.

oh, it is lovely. full of flowery verse, and sweet appreciations of you. all the little things which make him love you. you pick up your lute and play along eventually, and he gets into the rhythm too.

the two of you laugh at the fact that you both had the same idea! you’re so alike, so in sync.

he holds you tenderly, kisses you softly.

you end up writing many songs about your Blade. he is your perfect muse.

bonus:

Karlach bursts into tears when she hears it, and scoops you up into a big hug at the end. she’s so emotional. she can’t stop saying she loves you, she loves your song, all of it. lots of wet kisses for you.

Gale is rendered speechless for the first time he can remember. he just stares at you in adoration. he’s never had anyone love him enough to write a song about him before, and he full force of his affection for you hits him in that moment. he is smitten.