#especially since lots of people here helped me figure stuff out

[sleeplesssmoll]

Vertin can't bear to face her.

I noticed I missed one of the optional yellow side trails in the stage selection for chapter 3. After solving a riddle, I obtained a frog doll.

Vertin submits the frog doll to an orange puppy in a later stage. This poem appears:

(1/2)

(2/2)

Puppy = Sonnetto. We've seen Sonetto compared to a puppy a few other times in the side trails as well. Imagine if she followed Vertin back then the way she does now. Is her wet nose and face not just a reference to puppies, but also to Sonetto crying on the other side? It all started with Vertin giving Sonetto that noisy little frog and telling her it was going to rain soon.

I suck at analysis for stuff like this but I'm dying to know others thoughts.

An update: you can see the Trails as little white diamonds in the atlas. If you see a trail labeled ??? Then you haven't found it yet. Try going back the the stage it's connected too and look around a bit. Sometimes they are a a teeny bit off the screen. @sessioneight is also working on an awesome project to make a master list of all the trails!

[slushycoookie]

Three's Not a Crowd ~ Miguel O'Hara x Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 7.9k

✩ Content: Citizen!Reader. Logan can be which ever one you think of, I didn't go into much detail. Deadpool shows up for a little bit. Miguel and Logan tussle before we get to the dirty stuff. Protected Sex (I make Logan wrap it up once again). P in V. Oral sex (fem receiving). Vaginal sex. MINORS DNI!

✩ A/N: It's a crime that I haven't seen a lot of Miguel and Logan fics so I'm fixing that rn. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“You know what you’re doing, right?”

You shoot him a look, “I know you did not just ask me that.” Miguel stuttered, not realizing that his words might’ve offended you.

“No, shock, sorry, I was just-”

“Miguel, chill.” You playfully punched his arm. “I got this.”

“You do. I didn’t mean to doubt you.”

You knew he didn’t mean that, but you wouldn’t tell him you were a little nervous. It would be your first time working the Go Home machine alone without help from Margo, who was planning to go on more missions for Miguel. You knew your way around regarding technology—making your position at Spider Society a very helpful one.

For someone who didn’t have any superpowers.

“Just don’t press the ‘blow up HQ’ button and you’ll be straight.” Margo added in, making sure you were all set by putting the last of her console commands.

“Why would I even want to press that button?”

“Just in case you get bored. Like I do.”

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, “Do you think it was a good idea to say that in front of your boss?”

“Yes.” Margo winked, making him shake his head at her antics.

“Just call one of us if you do need help.” Miguel assured you with a hand on your shoulder. You tried not to focus on how huge his hand was on you. How close he was to you. How good he smelled at that moment. Like sandalwood. Good thing you had the best poker face in the world, otherwise your crush on him was going to show.

“I will, don’t worry.”

You had a system for sending anomalies back through the Go Home machine. You tried to get the ones brought in order so they wouldn’t spend much time inside the building. Some were antsy, primarily the villains, so you always did your best to get them out immediately. Otherwise, they'd cause problems.

Your stomach growled when you glanced at the time. It was almost lunch. Miguel was still on a mission, so you figured having lunch with him was off the table. You tried to ignore the disappointment in your stomach when you thought about being unable to eat with him. Especially since you brought him a sandwich you made this morning. He said he liked your food.

A portal emerges, and there you see Miguel and Jess with two anomalies in tow. One was webbed up and unconscious, while the other was happily following them, taking in the sights.

It was a Deadpool and Wolverine, anomalies you've never seen before. The most you've gotten were villains, other spider people who weren't a part of the Society, and random citizens. You knew there were other heroes within the universes, but you'd never thought you see them.

“Oooh it's so shiny!” Deadpool admired the other cages filled with anomalies. The one he was looking at contained a gigantic Vulture. “How did you bring this son of a gun in here?”

“Hey.” Jess called, “We agreed to let you look in exchange for voluntarily locking you up.”

“I know, I know.” Deadpool held out his arms to carry Wolverine, who was across Miguel’s shoulder. Miguel sighed before handing one of the X-Men over, like a bride in Wade's arms.

“Uh, what happened to him?” You asked as you locked the two heroes up.

“Knocked him out with my bike.” Jess informed you, “Kitty cat was getting a little crazy, so I had to calm him down.”

“He didn't have his morning coffee, that's why.” Deadpool started stroking his friend's hair. “Big guy needs his caffeine mixed with two shots of bourbon.”

Miguel sighed, “Just what I needed, a Deadpool and Wolverine. You know they usually come in pairs?”

You didn’t know that.

“Better than dealing with a Green Goblin.”

“Anything's better than dealing with goblin.” Deadpool said, “It's like witnessing therapy 101 when talking to that guy.” You bit your lip to hide your amusement while Jess and Miguel didn’t indulge in him. “Tough crowd. I thought all Spidey's are supposed to be funny.”

“Not him.” You pointed at Miguel, “Hardly a funny bone in his body.” Jess chuckled at that while he rolled his eyes.

“Someone has to be serious around here.”

While putting the two heroes on the list for the Go Home machine, your stomach growled once more. Now that Miguel was back, hopefully you two would get lunch and eat together in his lab like usual. It's almost as if he read your mind when pulling you aside.

“Hey, I'm not eating lunch now. I have a pile of reports I need to sign off on and it will take me a while.”

“Oh.” You ignored the disappointment in your chest. “It's okay. Work comes first.”

Miguel smiled, a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thanks for being understanding.”

Once taking his leave, you sat in a chair by the Go Home machine, eating your sandwich. You only had forty-five minutes, but with Miguel, it was usually close to an hour—perks of being a leader of Spider Society.

“Where the fuck are we?” You heard from one of the enclosures. Wolverine was finally awake.

“The future.” Deadpool said, “It's not all that. I didn't see a Taco Bell in here.”

“The closest thing to that are the tacos in the cafeteria.” You stood, tossing the wrapper from your sandwich away.

“Oooh, what about Mexican pizza? We don't even have those in our dimension because they keep taking it off the menu. Capitalism.”

“Can you not focus on food right now?” You see Wolverine shredded the neon webbing to pieces, understandably pissed off. “We need to get out of here.”

“Oh, I wouldn't do that.” You advise, “Not unless you wanna deal with hundreds of spider people as soon as you escape.”

“Yeah, we should sit this out, peanut.” Deadpool patted Wolverine's head, “Unless you wanna embarrass yourself again like when you fight Magneto.”

He growled, kicking the neon webbing away as if he had a personal vendetta with it. “Well, how long are we going to be stuck here?”

“Not long!” You look through your anomaly list, “After two Rhinos and one Mysterio.”

Wolverine sighed, his stomach growling, “Then is it possible to get some food? I'm fucking starving.”

“Are Mexican pizzas still on the table?” Deadpool rubbed his stomach.

“Sorry, I can't let you guys out.” You then look at your lunchbox, remembering the extra sandwich. Miguel wasn’t going to be able to eat it today. “Would a sandwich work?”

“I'd eat anything.”

“I believe him.” Deadpool added.

You slipped the duo the extra sandwich by partially opening up the cage. You told them to enjoy before going back to work. At least briefly before Deadpool started talking to past the time before you eventually had to send them home. You realized the man would keep going and going and going. Funny enough, it didn't bother you, considering working the Go Home machine tended to have a lot of quiet moments.

“I will say, despite being locked up in another dimension that's not my own, I would do it again if I had that hunk come get me every time.”

You lit up at the mention of Miguel. " Are you talking about the guy in the blue and red suit? Strong muscles? Arms you can get lost in?”

“Yes, him. Dude has an insane build. I'd like to have a party with him and two other guys. But you know what they say, four's a crowd.”

“…I thought the phrase was ‘three's a crowd’?”

“Not in this story it isn't.”

Wolverine roughly pushed Deadpool to the side, “Ignore him.”

“It's hard to when his voice resonates across the room.” You said with a hint of amusement.

“Now you see what I deal with every day.”

“I know, poor Wolverine.” You playfully pout, earning a sharp chuckle from him.

“By the way, thanks for the sandwich. It was good.”

You weren't expecting a thank you from the rugged hero, but you appreciated it.

“You're welcome.”

After meeting the infamous Deadpool and Wolverine, you were sure you wouldn't see them again. You couldn't help, but be disappointed by it. Working the Go Home machine all by yourself tended to get lonely. You got occasional visitors like Margo, Jess, Ben, Miles, etc. Miguel was busy as usual.

So it was nice to have some company besides the usual anomalies who were either too dangerous or too confused to speak to.

Maybe it was pure luck when Miguel came in one day with a sigh, carrying the same Wolverine through the portal—no Deadpool, though. Once again, Wolverine was unconscious due to Jess when they put him in the cage, covered with webs.

“Looks like we got a repeater.” You put down the hero's name on the list.

“I'd rather take him over Deadpool.” Miguel stretched and you tried not to focus on his v-line, burying your face in the tablet.

“I don't know, he's pretty funny.”

“Replace that with annoying.”

Once Miguel lowered his mask, you noticed his exhausted eyes. The red was not as bright as it usually was. “Go take a break.”

“I can't.” He ran his hands through his hair. “So many mission reports, new dimensions, new anomalies.” He motioned over to the still knocked-out Wolverine. “It doesn't make sense to take one right now.”

You glared at him, “Go take a damn break, or else I'm blocking you from my watch.”

“You can't do that without administrative controls.”

“I'll ask Lyla to give them to me.”

On cue, Lyla appeared above your shoulder. “I'll do it, Mig. You know I'm always down for a little fun.”

Not wanting to deal with that, Miguel stands down, following your advice to take a break.

“I'll see you?”

You motioned around you to prove a point. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Miguel’s lips curled up briefly, shooting you through the heart. You etched his small attempt at a smile in your mind, wishing you had Lyla quickly take a picture to send it to you. This crush was so stupid. Why couldn't you get yourself together? You would never be with him anyway, considering that Spider Society was first—no one else.

“Not this again…” Wolverine woke again in the same predicament as before, just without his friend.

“Sorry. At least you know what to expect now.”

“And you think that makes me feel better?”

“…yes? You saying you didn't miss me?”

Wolverine shook his head, not wanting to show you his slightly amused face. “I didn't say that, princess.”

The nickname makes you pause, blood rushing to your cheeks. It was nice to hear.

“We’re already on a nickname basis?”

“I can take it back.”

“Oh no, no need, Wolverine.”

“Logan. Rather have you call me by my name if I'm gonna keep coming back here.”

“Who's to say this won't be your last time here?” You asked while getting ready to put the next anomaly to the machine. “Also, I knew your actual name, by the way.” You wiggle the tablet in front of him.

Once again, you were under the impression that Logan wouldn't come back. Except he did the next day. Willingly, as well. Not knocked out or tied up with webs. He just walked through the portal with the other spiders and plopped down in the cage, pouting.

You thought the situation was odd, so you asked Margo to come down for a minute to see if this happened before with other anomalies.

“Oh yeah, all the time.” She said while observing Logan. “Had this Black Cat that kept showing up for a whole month once. There was no glitch, no secret dimensions collapsing. It was weird.”

“Yeah, that's…very weird.”

“You telling me I'm gonna keep showing up here for a month?” Logan asked, obviously not happy about that.

Margo shrugged, “Maybe? It could be much shorter, but we'll have to see.”

She showed you the statistics of Logan's original dimension, and you noticed how everything looked normal. The numbers weren't off, and the citizens were okay. It was nothing to bring up to Miguel that would cause concern.

“Let me out of here then.”

You and Margo glanced at each other, “We can’t. It's against the rules since you're classified as an anomaly.”

Logan huffed, “Didn’t think you were such a rule stickler.”

You weren’t. You didn’t want to upset Miguel. If Logan kept returning, you might as well skip all the rules. At least make him more comfortable until the system got itself together.

You messed with the tablet to let him out. Logan and Margo were shocked at your actions, and the latter quickly pulled you to the side.

“So, you're gonna take the heat, right? If Miguel gets mad at you?”

“He’s not going to get mad.” You paused momentarily, “I don't think.”

“Y'all might be tight, but he won't let this slide.” She looked over your shoulder to watch Logan, who stood by the opened cage, tapping his foot while waiting.

“I got it.”

Your plan was simple: have Logan keep you company until it was time for him to go home. You weren't going to admit to anyone else that it was a task trying to get some of the bigger anomalies in the machine. The spider mechanical legs were hitting their limit, and you didn't want to put them through maintenance, somehow still proving to Miguel that you couldn't handle it.

Margo let you do your thing when you gave Logan his day pass to stop him from glitching until he went home.

“No fancy watch?”

“No, sorry. Keep in mind this is only temporary.”

Logan nodded before searching the premises, “Any booze around here?”

“There’s the spider bar, but it's not open now.”

He let out a short laugh, “Really? A ‘spider’ bar? You’re shitting me, right?”

“Uh, this is coming from the person who rides in a X-Jet.”

You hold back in grinning when he blinked, “Alright, you got me there.”

Logan was a big help in helping you take the anomalies back to their respective dimensions. He hardly complained once you told him you'd grab him a couple of beers from the bar. And he kept you company, which you never thought you needed in this line of work. Working with technology tended to be a solo job. You just got lucky when Miguel noticed you and saw your potential. He helped you grow into the position you are in now. So, in a way, you wanted to prove he didn't put you there for nothing.

However, you felt all that crashing down when Miguel stormed into the room, seeing Logan was out of the enclosure.

“Care to explain why we have an anomaly out and about?”

You held the tablet close to your chest as you tried to devise a good excuse. Despite his rushed actions, you knew Miguel wasn’t upset as his brows weren't creased.

“He’s not out and about. Logan is under my supervision.”

Logan grunted in agreement, downing a beer you rewarded him.

“You know that's not part of protocol.” Miguel said, hands on his hips. The typical leader pose.

“Relax, bub. She's just doing me a solid.” Logan cut in, and you tried to hold in your surprise of how quickly he downed that beer. “By the way, you need to get better beer. This is shit.”

“We've hardly had any complaints from other spiders.”

“For a bunch of guys that can't get drunk, it's really easy to not give a fuck. ”

Miguel’s face twisted in mild annoyance, and you quickly stepped in front of Logan to save him.

“Look, I know I'm breaking some rules here, but this is just until we figure out why he keeps popping up in other dimensions. I'll be careful.”

You strained your neck to look up at him, his eyes searching yours. He was so close to you. His breath brushing along your head, raising your heartbeat. Miguel suddenly backed off, his face a little annoyed, but he'll get over it.

“I trust you.” You relaxed your shoulders, glad he didn't demote you. He then focused his attention on Logan. “Watch yourself.”

Logan scoffed, “What, you think I'm going to steal her from you?”

“You did not just say that.” Your head shot back at him and you could see the amusement on his face.

“Big guy's acting like I'm hogging all the attention.”

Miguel pinched his nose, “Just make sure he gets home.”

You watch him storm off, unsure how you made him upset once again. Actually, it was Logan's fault this time. Yet Miguel didn’t say anything about his comment. It could've been a one-off. He's big on avoiding questions he didn't want to answer.

You decided not to dwell on it.

You jotted down every time Logan came through as an anomaly. It was like a game. You mark the day he comes through that portal, his face in his usual scowl. That quickly fades away once he sees you. You give him a few beers and he continues to complain about how terrible they are. Or how they're not as bad once you give it to him.

Whenever a villain anomaly needs to go back, Logan acts like your bodyguard—standing behind you to assert dominance. To not mess with you. They always intimidated you since you're among the few people in the building without superpowers. And you didn't want to bring that up to Miguel either. Luckily, Logan being there relaxed you.

In fact, despite his aura of not wanting to be messed with, he was delightful to talk to. Easily being engaged in the conversations you two have. There, he knew about your civilian life and how you decided to work at Spider Society to help make a difference. You didn’t expect to be in your current position, but you were grateful for it.

And you knew more about him. Every time an anomaly comes through, you get a dossier. Standard knowledge on whoever needed to get back home. But it never ran any deeper than that. Never gave you additional information about who they were as a person. Logan allowed you to see his other side when he told you about his dark past.

Somehow, you felt closer to him.

Miguel started acting strange whenever Logan was keeping you company. Before, you could count on one hand all the times Miguel came to see you when you started working the Go Home machine. Now, he was there a lot more than usual.

Saying he was checking up on how you're doing. If Logan was giving you any trouble, which the man didn't like that one bit. Making sure you were keeping to the daily quota of sending anomalies away. Playing into his boss role.

“Don’t forget to send me the system checkups before you leave for the day.” You gave him a thumbs up at Miguel’s reminder and said goodbye as he left for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

“I swear to god if he shows up here one more time...”

Logan unleashed one of his claws for emphasis and you got the point.

“He’s just doing his job. He can't have Spider Society start to slack. Otherwise-”

“The multiverse would start collapsing blah, blah, blah.” He grabs another beer, popping off the top with a slice of his claws. “I got it, sweetheart. I can still fucking complain about it though.”

You ignored your heart fluttering whenever Logan gave you nicknames like princess or sweetheart despite his relaxed tone. You found yourself eying his physique while he kept you company—especially those bulging arms. You weren't immune to how a man displayed his strength.

Your stomach churned when you tore your eyes away. You couldn’t be developing a crush on Logan too. You liked Miguel! And what was with you pining over men you never even had a chance with?

Speaking of pining for men you probably couldn’t be with, Miguel was finally free. After saying goodbye to Logan, he sent you a message asking if you were available. This was good; it was an excellent chance to see if your crush on Miguel remained since you two had been apart for a while.

Or maybe it wasn't good because once you walked inside, his face lit up at the sight of you. You hoped he hadn't heard your increased heartbeat.

“You wanted to see me?” You asked while trying to remain calm.

“Yeah. I wanted to see if you could keep me company.” Miguel said, “I've got to sign off on paperwork and you know how much I despise it.”

“Oh yeah.”

You got comfortable on the platform as he raised it, your legs dangling below. Miguel sniffed the air and grimaced at you.

“You smell like him.”

You purse your lips. “Smell like who? Logan?” Miguel grunted and you tried to hold in a laugh. “Well, he has been hanging around me almost every day.”

“I know.” His muscles tense up at the conversation. “I don't like you hanging around with him.”

You tilted your head, “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because what?”

Miguel remained silent, signing off on some more paperwork. You wish you had enough strength to knock him upside the head and quit the mysterious act. You'd be very successful, considering the lack of spider sense.

“Mig, how am I supposed to know what's bothering you if you don't tell me?”

You notice his shoulders tensed up more.

“He’s a drunk, too relaxed in his line of work, not serious when it comes to helping you with the machine.”

“He's been fine to me. And you know he can only get drunk, but for so long.”

Miguel sucked his teeth, brows furrowed. “He flirts with you.”

You wave him away, “It's harmless.”

“Not to me.” He's looking at you now. Serious. “He may have some underlying intentions.”

“What?” You start laughing, desperate to make this conversation feel like a joke. “Like he wants to get in my pants?” Miguel nodded to solidify it. “You know I'm a grown adult, right?”

“I'm only saying this as-” He paused as if he’s trying to figure out the right words, “as your friend. I know how men are.”

“So do I. I'm trying to understand what you gain in telling me this.”

“I don't gain anything. I'm looking out for you.”

“Bullshit.”

You wanted to leave his lab now. Miguel saying that too only made your crush on Logan even worse. Your mind now realizing that there's a possibility Logan likes you, but you were frustrated since you were so close to saying to Miguel that you like him. Just to see what he would say.

You grab his remote to the platform, lowering it to his surprise. You had to walk away and calm yourself down.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“It's getting late and I should go home.”

You try to step off, but Miguel’s in front of you, panic in his eyes. “Don’t leave.”

“You were trying to convince me that another guy I've been around only wants to get with me. For what reason? Because you’re my friend? Don't play with me, Miguel.”

You try to go past him, but he's quick, taking your hand and spinning you around. You almost fall against his chest, but he keeps you upright, looking up at him with confused eyes.

“I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to make you angry at me. I just-” Miguel bit the inside of his cheek, words at the tip of his tongue. You don't say anything, waiting for him to say what he wanted to say. “I'm only saying this because I…I have feelings for-”

“Miggy!” Lyla called from above his shoulder, “We just got information back on-oh.” She noticed the two of you. “Oh no, was I interrupting something?”

“Yes.”

“No!” You quickly pull your hand away from Miguel’s. “He was just seeing me off. I'll head out now.”

Miguel called your name, “Don't go yet.”

“It's alright! I don't want to take you away from work.” You say goodnight to the two of them, booking it out of his lab.

Was he about to confess?

Confess what? That he liked you? It was absurd. Impossible. Miguel didn’t want you that way. At least you thought. Yet, when you came in the following day, he barely looked at you. He only said a simple good morning before continuing his leadership duties.

If he liked you, then why was he avoiding you? None of it made sense and you were trying to figure it out.

“You alright?” Logan asked, taking you out of your thoughts. You’ve been staring at the list of anomalies to send home for the day.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay.”

You proceeded to get rid of your confusion about the man that was Miguel O’Hara by bringing up the next anomaly. Logan doesn’t accept your words when he placed a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t know about that. The big guy didn’t stop by today to annoy the hell out of me, so something’s up.”

You grimace, thinking about the conversation last night. Would it be okay to tell Logan what Miguel told you? As you’re aware, your crush for the hero with the metal claws was blooming too. You thought you were handling it relatively well compared to your one with Miguel. Maybe it’s because deep down inside, he might be right about Logan when it came to you.

“It’s stupid now that I’m thinking about everything.”

“Well?” He folded his arms, waiting for you to continue.

“We got into a disagreement last night. Miguel thinks that you’re being so flirty to me because you want to have sex with me.”

Logan sharply laughed. You tried not to let his apparent amusement sting your heart.

“Somebody’s jealous.”

You shake your head, “That’s not jealousy. He said it was out of concern.”

“And you believed him?” Your silence told everything Logan needed to know, making him chuckle once more. “I get it. You’ve seen yourself, princess?”

“I-huh?”

“You heard me. You’re not bad to look at. I’m surprised he’s taking so long to confess to you.” Logan struts over to you, your back against the console. He’s not trapping you, but the distance was closer than what you two have had before. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“And how does he look at me?”

Logan’s eyes were filled with want as he traced your body. You didn't want to admit how much it was turning you on.

“He looks at you the way I am now.”

You bit your lip, holding in a rising smile. You just received an indirect confession from a hero from another dimension. And an unspoken one from another hero in your universe. You can’t believe it.

“He doesn’t look at me that way.” You try to shut it down and not get ecstatic at the idea of two men pining over you.

“Wanna bet?” Logan gets closer to you now. You allow him, taking in hints of the whiskey you were able to swing him from the bar. “Kiss me. See how he acts then.”

You let out a surprise snort. “Like he’s watching us right now.”

“You think he isn’t?”

You purse your lips, knowing it’s not uncommon for Miguel not to watch over areas of Spider Society to make sure everything runs smoothly, including your space. Logan lets you make the move, your hands moving along his yellow suit, feeling his pectorals. His dark eyes watch you intensely when you slide up to his neck, draping your arms around it. His gloved hands rest on your sides and it unironically makes you shiver. It's the most interaction you’ve gotten in a while.

“Go for it, sweetheart.”

So you kiss him. The taste of alcohol on his lips incites you further. Your body pressed along his to feel more of his body. Logan’s hands map out your sides as if he doesn’t want to touch you further than he is already.

That’s when a rush of air goes by you. Logan is gone, his body against the wall, cracks forming around where he landed. Miguel’s imposing frame towers over him, arm tight on his neck, keeping him there.

“Guess I was right.” Logan strained, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Oh yeah? And I was right about you. Wanting to fuck her.”

“Before you could?”

Miguel growled, his hold on Logan getting tighter. “You really want to do this?”

“Buddy, I’ve been wanting to kick your sorry ass since the day we’ve met.” Logan’s claws unsheathed and panic started to set in. You did not want them to fight right here.

“Hold on, can we just take a minute to-”

They weren’t listening to you when Miguel was flown back, slamming into a console. The electricity slightly glitched his suit as he gathered his bearings, eyes on Logan the entire time. The Wolverine crouched, arms out wide in his battle stance. Miguel’s mask was up, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Guys, please don't do this. I don't wanna see you two get hurt-”

You took cover behind a console as they started to fight. Bits and pieces of technology flown everywhere. Strands of Miguel’s webs on the side. Marks from Logan’s claws all over. Bits of blood staining the floor and you weren't sure who it belonged to.

To say you were scared was the wrong word to use. Because you weren't, despite your head filled with your fast-paced heartbeat. Oddly, you were flattered.

After all this time of thinking you weren't the person Miguel wanted, the person Logan was into changed in a moment. They were fighting over you. You.

You liked it but didn’t want them to kill each other over it.

“Lyla?” You called the AI, who showed up in an instant.

“Hang on, I'm getting several system failures from the Go Home machine-oh my god.”

“Yeah. Can I get some help in here, please?”

Not long after, the men were separated. Some spiders held Miguel back while Logan had to be locked up once again to calm down. All of your coworkers were shocked at the destruction those two caused.

“Uhh what happened?” Jess asked Miguel, who didn’t say anything. He brushed by her to cool off. So she asked you, and you tried to come up with an answer that didn't sound weird.

“Miguel and Logan just had a misunderstanding.”

She pointed to the torn-up console that was currently being repaired, “How is that a result of a misunderstanding?”

You shrugged, struggling to say something cohesive. “I don't know. It's like I blinked and they started trying to tear each other’s throats out.” Because of you, but you didn’t add that part.

Jess rubbed her temples, “Alright. I'll talk to Miguel later. Are you okay, though? They didn't get you, right?”

“I'm fine.” You show her that there wasn’t a scratch on you. “Is it okay if I leave early though?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

You decided to stay home after that day—more out of embarrassment than anything. No one at Spider Society probably knew about the reason Miguel and Logan were fighting yesterday. Well, Jess might, but not anyone else. It felt embarrassing because you secretly liked it. Two incredible men in their respective fields want you, a random citizen.

You didn’t say a word to them when you left, so you couldn’t leave them high and dry.

That’s why you called Lyla, giving her instructions to have Logan stay until the end of the day if he showed up again and to call Miguel back to the Go Home machine around the same time. You needed to get yourself ready for what you wanted to say.

Time went by so fast for you.

It did not give you enough time to properly rehearse or to calm the anxiety stuck in your throat. Your shower went on forever, and you were sure you sat in your room for almost an hour trying to figure out the clothes you would wear as if you needed to woo them more than you’d already had.

You steeled yourself when walking into Spider Society, settling on a simple hoodie and jeans. You could barely hear yourself think as a few spiders greeted you, some asking why you weren’t here today. You didn’t have much time to talk, so you used an example of taking a mental health day. Because you absolutely needed it.

That’s when you walked to the machine room and saw Logan there, just as you expected. Margo was there too, and she was showing him how to play one of her favorite mobile games, which involved slashing fruit.

“Hey.”

Miguel appeared beside you, almost scaring you. “Oh geez, hey.”

“Are you…did you want to-?”

“Hey, hey!” Margo interrupted, greeting you with a wave. “I heard you were sick.”

“I took a mental health day.” You explained, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

“It’s alright.” She waved it off, “I was playing games with this guy all day.” Margo motioned to Logan, who didn’t say anything, folding his arms.

“Go home. I’ll take Logan back for you.”

You can see Margo wanting to question it despite hearing you needed a mental break. But there was an unknown tenseness in the air, and she was a smart girl.

“Uh, okay. See ya, Logan. Bye bye, boss.” Her avatar dissipated, leaving you three alone.

“You alright?” Logan asked to cut the silence.

“I'm fine.” You reassured.

“Are you sure?” Miguel stepped closer to you, “A lot happened that day, and part of it was my fault.”

“Don’t hog all of the blame.” Logan grunted, “It was my fault too.”

“You're both okay.” You reached over and took one of their hands, squeezing them affectionately. “I just didn't want you two to kill each other.”

“Like he would've tried.”

Miguel side-eyed Logan momentarily, “I could've given different circumstances.”

“Sure, bub.”

“Okay!” You focus their attention on you, not wanting to cause another fight. “I wanted you two here to address the giant elephant in the room.” Their intense eyes on you make you a little nervous, sweat clinging to the nape of your neck. You weren't sure what their reactions were going to be. If, after all of this, you needed to find a new job.

“I like you, " you say to Miguel. A light flickers in his crimson eyes, and you notice him trying to hold back a smile.

“I like you too.”

That confirmation boosts your confidence a little.

You then turn to Logan, “I like you too.”

“You're not too bad yourself.” He casually said. “Don’t know how the big guy is gonna take it.”

“I'm right here.” Miguel scowled at him before focusing on you. “What are you trying to say?”

“What I'm saying is…I want you both.”

It was a big risk saying something like that to both of them. None of them appeared to want to share their partner with another. Unless it's under specific guidelines. You didn't have any, but you knew how you felt. And if they didn't agree, maybe you were better off not being with anyone.

Miguel appeared to be hesitant, while Logan was hardly phased. “Not the first time I've had this offer.”

“It's different, but I know what I feel for you two is real. And I'm open to trying.”

The gears are turning in Miguel’s mind as he’s thinking it over, his hand never leaving yours.

“Okay. I'll try for you.”

You shimmied with joy, pulling both of them in for a hug. You felt their hard bodies and tried not to focus on how different they were from your own. There were many rules you probably needed to set, but for now, you wanted to take it as is.

When pulling back, you stopped short between the two of them. Miguel captured your attention by turning your head towards him with his index finger.

“Can I kiss you?”

You darted down to his lips before nodding. Miguel quickly captured your lips with his. You thought your kiss with him would be gentle and light. Instead, you felt the desperation of finally being able to taste you after all this time. His groans resonated across your ears, letting you know how much he wanted you.

Miguel kissed you so much that you felt dizzy when parting, but Logan's chuckle brought you back to reality.

“Was he better than me?”

Miguel sucked his teeth when you pretended to ponder, “I think I need another reminder.”

Logan kissed you, parting your lips to slip his tongue inside. He also groans in your mouth, a steady hand on your hip. You had to grip Miguel’s shoulder to keep balance when you parted again, also dazed.

“Well?”

“It's about the same.”

The two men groaned simultaneously, hoping you would say which one was better.

“You look pretty like this.”

“For once, I agree with him.”

That's when they began their journey of your body. Logan latched on to your neck, kissing and sucking on it while Miguel peppered your face with kisses, managing to capture your lips a few more times. They lingered on their respective sides, caressing your breasts, fingers tracing down your back, groping your ass.

Logan took over momentarily, your back against his chest while he sucked on your neck again. Miguel’s kisses on your lips silenced whatever escaped from your own. Their movement were picking up in speed, and you faltered trying to keep up with them.

“Fuck.” Logan paused, sniffing the air. “You smell delicious.”

You started getting flustered, “What? Don't tell me you can…” You squeezed your thighs together.

“I can smell you too.” Miguel sniffed, his being a bit more discreet.

This was about to be a problem. If you didn't say anything, you were sure clothes would be thrown all over the consoles. You didn’t need yet another scandal in the Go Home machine.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.”

That's how you managed two superheroes in your apartment. Two horny ones at that. Some part of you wanted to pinch yourself to wake up from a dream. The way their eyes stared you down, blown from lust, standing so close to you that you could feel their body heat. But this was real.

“If any of you guys are uncomfortable-”

“If we were uncomfortable,” Miguel started, unzipping your hoodie and tossing it to the side. " We would've said it, right?”

Logan grunted, coming around from behind and raising your arms. He pulled your shirt off in one motion, leaving you in your bra.

“You okay with this, princess?

His whispering made goosebumps form on your skin. “Obviously, since I started all of this.”

“Just checking.”

Logan picked you up, angling you in a way that allowed Miguel to remove your shoes and jeans. When he settled you down, Miguel wanted to admire more of your exposed skin. His fingers circled along your plush thighs. Logan's centered along your breasts, pushing them up against your bra and making you sigh in relief.

You didn't want to get too caught up in your pleasure, noticing the guys still had on their suits. You reach over to Miguel, feeling his chest to see how to remove the suit, but he stopped you with his hand on top of yours.

“I got it.”

With his watch, his suit is gone. Only leaving him in his boxers.

Logan grumbled, “Show off.”

You turn around, your back against Miguel’s chest. You felt his lips on your neck as you went to help Logan with his suit. Having a little difficulty with the multiple kisses he gave you on your lips, forehead, and cheeks. He helped you by guiding your hands to his zipper. As you pull it down, Logan pressed against you, practically sandwiched between two half-naked, bulky guys. Who couldn't stop kissing and touching you.

Your hands brushed along their hairy chests, noting how Miguel’s was softer than Logan's coarse strands. Suddenly, you were being picked up and laid flat on your comforter.

Both men were on each side of you, the bed slightly creaking from the extra weight.

“Whoever breaks my bed is gonna pay for it.”

Logan tsked, “Say that to money bags over there.”

“I'll take responsibility and get you a better one if it happens.” Miguel reassured you.

As they spoke, your bra was removed with one hand by Logan. Your panties were pulled down and thrown away by Miguel. Cold air hitting your cunt told you exactly how wet you were, aching for more.

“I'm eating her out. Since you stole my kiss.”

Miguel told Logan, who scowled, clearly not happy about it. But got over it once his lips trailed down to your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth. Miguel matched him, latching on to your other breast. His hands trailed down your stomach and to your aching cunt. You felt him falter when his middle finger went in your soaked hole.

Logan wrapped his arm around your thigh, spreading you wider for Miguel to continue pumping into you. You were having a hard time keeping quiet between Miguel lazily pumping two fingers into you while Logan was determined to create marks on your skin. Hands tangled into their hair, tugging on it occasionally to replace your moans. The action spurs them on even further.

Miguel trailed his lips down, across your stomach, appreciating the fat you have and running his tongue along your naval. So slow. So agonizingly slow. He gives you mercy by continuing his journey down, kissing on your inner thighs. Logan maneuvered so he was behind you again, your head resting comfortably along his chest while you were spread wide for Miguel. He’s hovered above your aching cunt, eyes glazed over at the sight of you.

“Let me know how she tastes.” Logan said while nudging into your head. His large hands cupped your breasts.

Miguel groaned against your sex when he dived in. His tongue parted your folds, his lips closing in to suck on your clit. There was no point in being quiet anymore, you moaning loudly as Miguel ate you out. One hand slid down his curls, creating a solid grip that could pull his hair out. Logan wasn’t missing out as he continued to massage your breasts, his beard scratching along your face. You grip the nape of his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss. Tongues dancing amongst each other.

You were getting double the attention. Your body heating up at the pleasure. Miguel groaned against your drenched cunt, not stopping once to take a breather. He made sure your legs remained spread with his hands holding you down.

Even Logan didn’t let you try and move to escape your impending climax. Your breaths picked up, your lips wavering against his, your eyes rolling back. Miguel kept going as your body exploded with immense ecstasy. Your cries being a work of art and an indication of how good both of them made you feel.

You felt like you were floating as they kept prolonging your orgasm. Miguel lapping at your sex and Logan pinching your nipples.

“That means I can fuck her, right?”

It was Miguel’s turn to scowl at Logan. “No. I’m already in this position anyway.”

“But you got to taste her. Now, I get to fuck her.” Logan proceeded to move you around, but Miguel stopped him with a hand on your ankle.

“No way.”

“Guys…” You mumble, slowly gathering your bearings. You feel eyes on you when you roll over to the nightstand, pulling out your box of condoms. You toss them to Logan before giving Miguel a sympathetic look.

“Next time, okay?”

Before he could express his opinion, you crawl over to him, tracing your fingers around the lining of his boxers. You wiggle your ass and glance back at Logan, permitting him to pounce on you. You notice the apparent tent in Miguel’s boxers before pulling them down. His cock was huge with a slight curve, pre cum leaking from his tip. You make kitten licks around his lip as Logan gripped your hips, his cock rubbing against your ass cheeks.

He sunk into you, causing you to shiver in ecstasy. You moan against Miguel’s shaft, licking up and down. His hand had a gentle grip on your nape as he watched you.

“Tan bonita, nena (So pretty, baby)…”

You whimper when Logan slid out of you before thrusting back inside. The thrusts strong enough to have you jolt against Miguel’s cock.

“Fuck me…” Logan grunted, creating a delicate rhythm with his hips. “You feel…oh fuck…”

You moan while taking Miguel in your mouth. You try to take as much as you could while stroking the rest, matching the rhythm Logan created. His grip on your hips get stronger as well as Miguel’s on your neck.

A symphony was conducted in the bedroom. Your moans blended in with Miguel and Logan’s, who were the main stars. Their grunts and groans as they filled you up on both ends played well with each other. All you could do was take it, drool seeping down Miguel’s cock, creating more lubrication for you to stroke.

Logan’s grunts change pitch, getting deeper. His thrusts were getting disorganized, desperate to reach his peak. Miguel was on the same end. His hips push forward in your mouth, not enough to make you choke. Both of his hands are on your neck now, creating a faster rhythm to finish.

You wondered who was going to finish first.

“I’m about to…” Miguel warned you, ready to pull out, only for you to keep him there, still sucking his soul out.

“S-So am I-” Logan’s grunts turn to outright whines when he comes, latching on to your hips. Miguel isn’t too far behind when after a few more thrusts, his cum coat your throat. You swallow it all, not missing a single drop.

As Logan pulled out of you, Miguel moved you to rest your head, his bicep under it. Your hand grazing Logan’s chest when he lies beside you, capturing your breaths, allowing the space to reach a comfortable silence.

You tried not to let your thoughts wander to what would happen next. If all of this would be a one-time thing and everything would go back to normal tomorrow, you didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“I…” Miguel spoke against your head, “I thought we’d go on a few dates before this happened.”

You snickered, “We can still go on dates. Since this is going to be serious, right?”

“Right.” He kissed your forehead.

“I’ve always wanted to go to the aquarium.” You then smack Logan’s chest to capture his attention. He was on the verge of falling asleep. “Hey, you wanna go to the aquarium one day?”

“Anything you wanna do, I’ll do too.” He said with a short shrug. “Just give me a heads-up first.”

“Got it.”

Getting an overwhelming sense of gratitude, you gently kiss Miguel’s lips before leaning over to do the same to Logan. Your heart was whole and ready for this new chapter in your life.

Tags: @ghost-lantern @monarchberrysblog

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

first of all, this is all legit, and not bait, though i have a feeling it may come off that way, this did happen to me. please don't publish if tumblr sends it off anon.

i'm a lesbian with gender dysphoria, and while i haven't had much sexual experience, i would consider myself a stone top. in the last year and a half i began reading "terf"/radical feminist writings and reading "terf" tumblr blogs fairly actively, largely out of frustration with misogyny i was experiencing IRL. though i never engaged with the community i did stop identifying as genderfluid and started understanding my dysphoria as stemming from the trauma of being bullied by other girls for having a high-androgen DSD, and using different pronouns/transition thoughts as unhealthy coping mechanisms. i'm happy with this, but i also don't know if i'm attracted to women anymore.

i've always been attracted to women in a way that's stereotypically guy-like; i find feminine women very attractive and not so much fellow(?) butches, want to penetrate with a strap on, don't like bush much, cursory interest in BDSM/daddy kink. i read/watched het erotica and porn sometimes and identified with the man. what i read problematized pretty much every aspect of that- femininity as a cage, penetration as violence/straps as disidentification w the female body, infantilization of women, bdsm as abuse etc. also, desisting making me more conscious of dysphoria/knowledge of how extensive sexual dimorphism is putting me off both women with larger breasts and hips AND smaller breasts and hips/unrealistically masculine body types as well. so a lot of what turned me on before isn't arousing anymore, or i feel guilty about it, and i haven't been able to find butch4butch stuff which is much healthier very interesting.

i consider my sexuality healthier now on a political level but my ability to get aroused/jerk off has plummeted (used to be i could jork it sunrise to sunset) and thinking about being in a relationship w another woman makes me feel uneasy and weird, especially since a lot of what i read emphasized reciprocative cunnilingus/tribbing (which i don't like) as the healthiest sex options. i also think about both my dysphoria and my sexuality issues 100x more than i did before, even though i was promised the opposite (freedom from dysphoria and feeling happier as a lesbian), and it's stressing me out day-to-day. i'm aware based on your general ethos that you probably think i'm a terrible person right now, but i figured it'd be useful to seek the opinion of someone who radically disagrees with what i've read on what i could/should do next, since i admittedly miss being at peace with my sexuality.

thanks for reading.

hi there anon,

it's a bummer that you'd think I would assume you're a terrible person based on everything you've told me here. I generally try not to consider people terrible unless they're actively being shitheads or hurting other people, which doesn't sound at all like you're describing. from what you've told me, you've been up to your eyes in some information that's made you feel deeply uncomfortable in your sexuality and now you're seeking out a new perspective to help you make sense of that hurt. that describes most of the people who send me questions!

it's so striking to me that much of what you're describing is very reminiscent of what's recounted in The Persistent Desire, an anthology of writings on butch/femme identities edited by femme historian and archivist Joan Nestle that was released in 1992. in various essays and interviews countless butches and femmes recount their discomfort with the feminist turn against butch and femme identities that too place in the 70s, when both roles were declared problematic recreations of heterosexuality and summarily decried as politically "incorrect" for lesbians. it's shocking to me how much what you've described echoes these accounts experienced by lesbians half a century ago - the disowning of women who are "excessively" feminine or masculine, the demonizing of penetrative sex, general insistence that there are "correct" sex acts that every lesbian is supposed to enjoy, and the deep discomfort and insecurity that this causes among people who don't fit into the very rigid standards of proper lesbian identity set forth.

here's a link to a PDF, if that's interesting to you at all. it's very long, so feel free not to read it straight through; it's a great project to skim and an incredible way to get in touch with the lesbians who came before us. their accounts of their lives are so wildly different from the boundaries of "good" queer representation that feel so universal today; in discussing their own lives many of these women speak very bluntly about their experiences with abuse, drugs, sex work, and violence. it's a great glimpse into the lives and history of a lot of very ordinary lesbians just living their lives, and I'm very grateful it's been preserved.

now, as for what you're actually gonna do: hey. listen. first of all, if you haven't given up reading this stuff yet, you've gotta. you simply cannot keep internalizing stuff that makes you overanalyze your own sexuality so hard that you feel uncomfortable about being attracted to women. that's not "healthy," that's conversion therapy lite. there are other places to talk about feminism without being made to feel ashamed of yourself.

listen: there's nothing unhealthy about anything that you described about yourself. being a stone butch, being attracted to certain looks and aesthetics, watching porn, wanting to use a strap and roleplay during sex and not being interested in other sexual activities - all of those thing are completely normal and, yes, healthy. certainly healthier than feeling the need to repress your sexuality so hard that thinking about being with a woman doesn't feel right!

should we run through that list?

femininity as cage - sure, okay, femininity isn't for everyone, and there are parts of it that suck. that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with women who like to wear dresses or put on makeup or shave or whatever, or anyone who's attracted to those women. genuinely I cannot think of anything less interesting or important to feminist organizing than getting hung up about what people want to wear. it's clothes, dude. it's fucking clothes. pick a more important hill to die on, I implore you.

penetration is not the same thing as violence. there's just nothing to debate about that one; it's patently absurd to pretend that every act of penetrative sex is rape and you'd have to fundamentally misunderstand how consent works to believe that.

straps are not about "disidentification with the female body," they're about augmenting a sexual experience. a strap-on is not more problematic than a vibrator or a massage oils or a pillow used to prop up a body part. unless those are also bad? are those bad? are pillows disidentifying from the female body also? I'm not up to date on this.

straight up I don't even know which part of your whole deal the infantilization of women is supposed to address, but a thing that I've always found interesting about a lot of radical feminists who are deeply distrustful of sex is the way that many of them seem to assume that women can't be trusted to understand their own sexual desires and need to be taught what's appropriate. seems kind of condescending to me, personally.

BDSM isn't the same thing as abuse. abuse, crucially, is not a situation that people can safe word out of or negotiate the constraints of. it's kind of like how, you know, I purposefully pay people to shove needles in my skin when I want a tattoo, but I wouldn't be stoked about it if somebody just ran up to me in public and started stabbing me without any warning or conversation. context is crucial. there can certainly be abusive people within BDSM spaces, but that's true of people of literally every sexual proclivity on earth, and certainly not an innate feature of BDSM. it's just make believe, dude. it's dress up. it's sex LARPing.

also, psst, hey. that thing about being attracted to women in a "guy-like" way? no such thing. men are humans, dude; they experience attraction in as many different ways as anyone else. for every dude interested in the same stuff as you there are men yearning for hairy women, muscular women, masculine women, women who will dominate them, women who would rather be eaten out then penetrated, and so on. to say nothing of the men who aren't into women at all! and, as is obvious from your own experience, men don't have a monopoly on those kinds of feelings, anyway! there are no men or women feelings, dude; it's all just people having feelings and fighting for their lives trying to figure out what they're into to.

I want to particularly talk about that last bit, where you mentioned not enjoying or wanting to engage in cunnilingus or tribbing. that's totally fine! people like different shit in all kinds of combinations - I'm personally a huge fan of getting eaten out and scratched up or bitten, but I don't do penetration and I've genuinely never met anyone who actually liked tribbing - and there are absolutely people out there who will, to paraphrase the poet Tinashe, perfectly match your freak.

(have you heard about the perpetual, critical shortage of tops that the queer community faces? you'd be a godsend, just saying.)

also, actually, hey I wanted to circle back to another thing as well: it's deeply alarming to me that whatever radfem stuff you've been reading has you feeling "put off" of women with wide hips and large breasts as well as women with small breasts and hips. what is wrong with either of those? both of those are just ways that women naturally look. women just look a wide variety of ways, and it's sad that that's upsetting you now. just thinking about this, conceptually, is giving me hives.

having been up to your eyes in all of this, I can definitely understand why you'd feel the urge to overanalyze you own gender and sexuality to the point of completely talking yourself out of identifying with anything that feels good for you. as I said, that's actually not healthy in any way, and as a sex educator I can't say that I think anyone genuinely invested in your well-being would want that for you.

entirely aside from their feelings on trans people, which I obviously disagree with pretty vehemently, one of the things about radfems that's most endlessly vexing to me is the insistence that such an extremely narrow range of sexual behaviors are appropriate. seems like a miserable way to live, and I sincerely hope you can detangle yourself from the morass of shame it's landed you in. you deserve better.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 12)

Masterpost

“Ya, I have questions,” Jason confirmed, trying not to shift awkwardly in his seat. “I read the slideshow but I don’t seem to fit in either liminals or ghosts, and I have some issues that I think would have been mentioned if they were common?”

“Alright, what are they?” Danny asked tilting his head a little. 

“Well, it’s been better since meeting you, and I know increased aggression was one of the thing mentioned but mine isn’t like Damian’s, or even yours I think. We’ve been calling it Pit Madness. I’ve gotten better at managing it but especially when I got back it was really bad. I… killed a ton of people and I still have a lot of bloodlust that no one is comfortable with.”

“That is unusual, especially directed towards humans. Aside from revenge against whoever killed them dead usually don’t care very much about the living,” Danny said curiously, considering Jason. 

“And I do read as- as dead?” Jason asked, he had been worried about that.

“Well you’re obviously not Dead dead,” Danny said rolling his eyes before he reached across the table. “Here, with touch I can figure out a bit more.” He said and Jason hesitated for a moment before resting his hand in Danny’s.

A cool feeling quickly washed up his arm and over his chest like intangible water. Danny tilted his head to the other side, his brows coming together slowly as he gazed into the middle distance and considered what he was feeling. He let out a hiss and some sort of chitter that couldn’t come from a human throat, then clicked his tongue and the cool feeling dissipated, sinking under Jason’s skin and cooling heat he hadn’t been aware of feeling. 

“Okay, ya that’s weird,” Danny admitted and Jason’s heart dropped. “Best I can equate it to is, like a bone that healed wrong,” Danny said thoughtfully. “You did die before?” He asked, Jason nodded mutely. “Okay, I won’t ask why or how. But best I can tell your soul was shoved back into your body and not given time to get settled back in it’s proper position before whatever was done to bind it in place. So you’re alive but with some.. Spiritual nerve and brain damage. Would you be comfortable telling me how you were resurrected?”

“Well, I resurrected myself apparently. I don’t really remember it but apparently about six months after my death I dug myself out of my grave. Before I could get anywhere the League of Shadows found me and dunked me in the Lazarus pit which is this glowing green stuff that heals the dying and kills the healthy. I don’t remember any of it, it was almost a year before I recovered enough to be myself at all.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Danny said, nodding thoughtfully. “My guess would be at first you came back as a revenant, which is basically when a ghost possesses their own corpse to get revenge, not truly a living being. But then this Lazarus pit resurrected your body and your soul got stuck in your living body again without being prepared or intending for that to happen. 

“That’s what I’m guessing happened but I can’t be sure, and I’m not a healer so I don’t really know what to do about it. I’m sure my ghost doctor Frostbite would be happy to take a look at you though! Looks like we’ll be making an appointment for you too,” He joked making Jason chuckle nervously. 

“Well that’s.. Totally fucked up,” Jason said and Danny nodded.

“Ya, dying is basically always fucked up, coming back Specifically for revenge and then getting stuck here long after that’s a motivating factor is messy. I mean, for a human that would be fine, but for people like us,” He gestured between the two of them. “Obsessions are everything so that’s hard. You’ve been cultivating more healthy obsessions I know but you’ll never be the same,” Danny said, and Jason nodded.

He knew as much, he could never go back. Not that he hadn’t always had these sorts of thoughts and inclinations. Once of the reasons Bruce had taken on him and Dick was their murderous inclinations needed to be curbed, for Dick it had work, for Jason… Well it was a combination of a lot of things, it wasn’t really Bruce’s fault it had failed. Other than the fact that he’d let the Joker live far longer than he should have, but that was bleeding-heart-Brucie for you. It was funny, to not really be mad at Bruce anymore, understanding there was nothing else he could have done, and still not be able to forgive him.

Danny must have noticed how Jason had gotten lost in his own head because he reached across the table and covered one of Jason’s clenched hands with his own, soft and cool. “You’re doing really well Jason. It’s a messed up situation but I don't think anyone could have handled it better then you are,” Danny said softly.

Jason didn’t believe it but it felt good to hear and it did settle him a little bit. “Thanks Danny, that means a lot,” he said, giving Danny’s hand a squeeze before pulling back. 

There was a natural break in conversation as the waitress brought their appetizers, and when she left again Jason didn’t know what to say. Thankfully Danny spoke. “Why don’t I tell you a bit about my doctor? Frostbite can be a lot, as much as it would probably be funny to spring him on you I should probably give you a heads up.”

“Ya, ya that sounds good,” Jason agreed, glad to let Danny do the talking for a bit. And when telling him about Frostbite turned into talking about the Yetis, to talking about the Infinite Realms, to Danny info-dumping about space. Well Jason really doesn’t mind, especially with the way it makes Danny light up. It was good to see him happy.

---------

The food was good but Jason didn’t taste much of it, and aside from going “Oh wow!” When he took his first bite of his food Danny didn’t seem to either. At a certain point Jason realized he was going to have to do some talking or Danny was going to keep talking and wouldn’t eat. So he took over, but he didn’t know much about space so he started talking about literature and poetry and Danny listened raptly and finally ate his food.

It was very nice to have someone listen to him like that, it was sort of funny, it looked like it was as fun for Danny to listen to him talk then it had been the other way. Jason thought about how supporting obsessions was important for ghosts to have their obsessions supported. Reading wasn’t Really his obsession, he didn’t think, but it sure was an interest and it felt really good to get to share with someone new. 

By the end of the dinner Jason has well and truly decided that this was a date. Danny was cute, good, and passionate, and a good listener, Oh and strong as Fuck which was always a turn on for Jason. Speaking of powerful…

“Can I ask you another sort of serious question?” Jason asked after they got their dessert. Danny looked up, mouth full and a little smear of chocolate on his top lip, Jason resisted the urge to reach across the table and wipe it off. Danny nodded. “When Damian gave me his little shovel talk he mentioned that you’re going to be a god some day?” He said, tilting his head. Maybe that was a third date sort of conversation but it seemed like it would be important to understanding Danny.

Danny choked a little and swallowed, sighing heavily. “That’s what I’ve been told,” Danny grumbled. “There’s a prophecy apparently, and with how my powers have been progressing even just in the first 2 years since I died, I can already go toe to toe with some Ancients and win so… Ya, I guess it’s probably inevitable, especially since I haven’t stagnated yet. I don’t want to be one really, I didn’t ask for this, but whatever. I probably can’t stop it.” He slumped back in the booth, looking tired. 

Shit Jason shouldn’t have brought that up. “Hey you’ve got time right? That won’t be for a while. Also, what’s an Ancient?” 

“Very old, very powerful spirits. They’re essentially their own pantheon, Ancient is basically just what ghosts call gods.” He said with a shrug.

“Makes sense, I mean gods usually are ancient. Even more reason you don’t have to worry about that right now. I mean you’re far from ancient,” Jason pointed out, earning himself a little smile from Danny. 

“Ya, you’re right,” He agreed and went back to eating his dessert, the conversation moved on to the music they liked.

When the bill came Jason put his card down without letting Danny see what the bill came to and passed it back to the waitress. They lingered in the booth for a while still chatting, unwilling to part ways yet. If Jason didn’t know his family would want Danny home before they went out on patrol he might have suggested they just go to a park and walk for a while. Talk, maybe each take one of his wireless earbuds and take turns picking songs. But he had a feeling Damian really would try to kill Jason if he didn’t get to see Danny home safe. 

Eventually they left, wandering back to Jason’s motorbike and Danny snuggled up to Jason’s back again as they drove back to the manor. The silence was companionable until Jason pulled up, propping the bike up to let Danny get off. He took off his helmet and handed it back to Jason, not letting go immediately when Jason took it so their hands were touching. 

“This was nice, I had fun,” Danny said, blushing a little and looking down.

“It was, we should do it again soon,” Jason agreed, “I’ll text you okay?” 

“You’d better,” Danny teased before walking back towards the manor. 

Damian opened the door for him, shooting Jason a glare before slamming it making him laugh. He was still a child no matter how much he pretended he wasn’t. Jason kicked off on his bike and zoomed off, heading home to get ready for patrol.

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[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 hit 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

[cloudwhisper23]

BEHOLD!!! AN ART TRADE!!! @pixlokita it is time!

Caution, do not click read more if you do not intend to read. This is 12,192 words. And no, I'm not kidding. This is so much longer than most of the stuff I write. That being said, enjoy!!!

Evan said Michael was sick, which worried Jeremy. Being sick should not mean Michael would try so hard to avoid Jeremy, especially since he knew it would make Jeremy worry about him more.

But the main part Jeremy was worried about was the way Evan’s new wings kept fluffing up. Was Michael mad at him?

Don’t worry about it, Jeremy, he told himself. If Michael’s mad, he’ll tell you eventually.

It just stung. Evan and Gregory were wandering around the house, trying to see if their wings would allow them to do various things. Evan’s were too small to do much, and Gregory still hadn’t gotten used to them yet, but at least they had something to do while Mr. Emily tried to figure out what could possibly cause this.

“Ugh!” Gregory exclaimed, plopping down on the sofa next to Jeremy. He took the soda from Jeremy’s hand and took a giant sip. “These things suck.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his Coke.

“I mean,” Gregory scowled, taking another sip, “that wings are stupid. They don’t even bend the way I want them to.”

“Well…” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “They are just extra limbs, right? With bones and joints and stuff?”

“I guess so.” Gregory finally gave Jeremy his soda back. “But they don’t move how I want-“

“You couldn’t do much when you were a baby right? Learning to crawl?” Jeremy chugged the rest of his Coke before putting the empty can down. “It’s an accomplishment when babies get their heads off the floor on their own, you know. And rolling and stuff.”

“Oh.” Gregory clearly hadn’t thought about it that way. “But Evan’s got excellent control already.”

“He’s had them longer.” Jeremy shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a quick learner. Or maybe, there’s less wing to work with. Could be a bunch of things.”

“But…” Gregory sighed. He inched closer to Jeremy on the couch, his wings refusing to bend in a natural way.

Jeremy awkwardly looped a comforting arm around Gregory. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“They just hurt. All the time.”

“I can’t help with that,” Jeremy chuckled.

“Sure you can! Mike did this thing once, where he��” Gregory chewed his lip. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what he did.”

“You want me to pet you?” Jeremy said in disbelief. “Nuh uh. Go ask Evan. That’s not… No.”

“Why’d you make it weird?” Gregory shook his head. “It was like…”

“Like a shoulder massage,” Evan interjected helpfully. His wings flexed, expanding fully as he explained. They barely went past his shoulders, but the point got across.

Jeremy admired the confidence with which he showed them. He’d personally be too worried about people calling him a freak. Which, thinking about it, was not likely to happen in this house. Everyone was too nice here.

“Mikey went like this,” Evan said, pulling Jeremy’s arm back to get to Gregory’s wings.

Gently, Evan messaged the inner edge of Gregory’s wings, right where they extended from his back. Gregory’s wings convulsed, the claw on one nearly hitting Jeremy in the face. “I think they get itchy,” Evan mused. “We might have to just do this more often.”

“No kidding,” Gregory said with a sigh, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing. “But Mike’s still better at it.”

“Wonder where he got his practice,” Jeremy replied. He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it still came across that way.

Evan winched, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept focused on his task. Gregory sighed absently. “Wings are a lot of work.”

“Seems that way,” Jeremy replied.

Gregory folded and unfolded his hands while Evan worked. “I just…”

Jeremy spared him a glance as he went to get another can of Coke. “Something on your mind?”

“His girlfriend,” Evan said absently.

“Cassie’s not my girlfriend!” Gregory said, straightening. His wings fluffed up as he said it.

“Oh.” Jeremy had no idea what to make of that. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know!” Gregory replied. He ran a hand through his hair to try to make it lay flat. “She was at Evan’s party, and she looked really bad. I think Mike took care of it, but he didn’t really say anything about it afterwards.”

“She’s probably at the hospital, Gregory,” Evan replied, trying to be soothing. “We can visit her once we figure out what to do about this first.”

“Stupid wings,” Gregory grumbled. “Making everything harder.”

Jeremy didn’t know how to reply to that. He cracked the can open and took a sip. “Have you asked Mike?”

“He’s sick,” Evan answered for Gregory. His wings fluffed up again.

“Maybe we should check on him then. He’s been resting all week right?” Jeremy asked, trying to be casual about it. Evan had been very guarded about his older brother this whole time.

Jeremy came over every day, and every day, Evan said the same thing. “Mike’s sick. He can’t see anyone right now.”

It had been happening since the day Gregory’s wings had burst through his skin. Jeremy was more than a little concerned. Sure, he hadn’t reacted well to the wings at first, but none of them had. He’d been more supportive when Evan’s had burst through later that same day.

But Michael’s expression became very guarded for the rest of the day, and the next day, he was “sick” and couldn’t see Jeremy. And Evan was very good at shooing Jeremy away when he tried too hard to see him.

“Shouldn’t he eat something?” Jeremy asked.

Evan frowned. “Mikey told me that there’s not much he can stomach right now.”

“Crackers always work,” Jeremy mumbled to himself. Shaking his head, he tried again. “What about water? Maybe he’ll start feeling better with some fluids.”

“I… guess…” Evan seemed less sure. Conflicted, he looked at Gregory and then glanced at the closed door to his cousin’s room.

“I can get it. You keep helping Gregory,” Jeremy said quickly. He didn’t want Evan to change his mind.

Evan relented, nodding slightly. “Okay. Make sure to get him a big glass. And don’t be loud. And-“

“I know how it works when someone’s sick, thank you.” Jeremy set his Coke down and rushed back to the kitchen to grab a glass.

Evan had not been exaggerating. When Jeremy crept into the room with the glass of water, Michael was curled into a tight ball on the bed.

“Mike?” Jeremy whispered into the quiet room.

Michael groaned in response. He rolled over to face Jeremy, exposing the hair plastered to his face with sweat.

“I um.” Jeremy swallowed. He felt a little foolish now. Michael was just literally sick. He wasn’t mad at Jeremy or anything like that. “I brought you some water.”

Michael opened his eyes, feebly reaching for the glass.

“Are you strong enough to hold it on your own?” Jeremy asked.

Michael had to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head.

“Here-“ Jeremy sat next to Michael on the bed, helping pull him into an upright position so he could drink the water.

Michael leaned heavily against Jeremy, eagerly drinking the water. Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall to support the extra weight. Then abruptly, Michael pulled away.

“J… Jeremy,” Michael whispered weakly. He gripped at Jeremy’s jacket, burying his face in Jeremy’s shirt. “I…”

“It’s okay, Mike-“

Michael seized in Jeremy’s arms, sobbing heavily. His hold got tighter and tighter as his body shuddered with pain. Jeremy tried to set the glass on the bedside table, but he barely had it on the edge and water soaked into the carpet as he pulled Michael the rest of the way into his lap. “I got you,” Jeremy said into Michael’s hair.

“It hurts,” Michael cried, still shaking.

“You’ll get through this,” Jeremy mumbled.

A tearing noise broke through the sound of Michael’s sobs, even as they intensified. “JEREMY!!!” Michael wailed.

“I have you, Mike. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

Dimly, Jeremy registered the large wings erupting from Michael’s back. Oh. Oh. This was happening now. Bloody feathers spread out, wrapping around Jeremy to return his comforting gesture.

Gradually, Michael’s crying ceased, and Jeremy was left holding an exhausted teenager with bloody wings. “I am sorry,” Michael whispered, pulling his hands back, the wings retracting slightly. “I did not mean to, uh…”

“It’s okay, Michael.” Jeremy tried to smile at him. He was determined not to squirm in discomfort from all the blood currently soaking into his jacket.

“I… should go shower,” Michael said awkwardly.

“Yeah…” Jeremy wriggled uncomfortably in his jacket.

“Sorry,” Michael said. “I can wash that if you want.”

“It’s not the biggest deal,” Jeremy said.

“It is if you go home wearing a jacket covered in blood,” Michael replied. “It’s only fair that I clean it, since that’s my blood.”

That wasn’t how Jeremy saw it, but he figured he wasn’t getting out of this. “Okay.”

Michael shifted carefully, putting his feet on the carpet. Almost instantly after taking his weight off the bed, he completely lost his balance. His wings flew out, trying to redistribute the weight, but Jeremy didn’t realize that as he caught Michael by the waist. Both of them tumbled off the bed, Jeremy hitting the carpet with a soft ‘oomph.’

“I am sorry. This was not my intent,” Michael said from above Jeremy.

“They take some getting used to, huh?” Jeremy replied, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face.

It hadn’t been much on the bed with Michael clinging to him like a lifeline. But on the floor with Michael on top of him, pinning him to the ground, Jeremy was suddenly aware of how close Michael was to him.

Michael smiled ruefully. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk on my own right now. I don’t know how I’m going to wash all this blood off by myself.”

“Maybe your uncle could help?”

“He’s probably back at the library again,” Michael mused as he crawled off Jeremy.

Evan wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jeremy knew that much. And he couldn’t ask for Gregory’s help without alerting Evan to the amount of blood that coated them both.

“Do you want me to help?” Jeremy asked, feeling the heat more intensely in his face. Please say no. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it.

“Really?” Michael chewed his lip, considering it. “I would not want to be a bother… But if you are offering…”

Jeremy’s heart quickened at the prospect. “R-right.”

“Help me up?” Michael asked.

Jeremy pulled Michael to his feet, unprepared for the wings to wrap around him again. “Um.”

“Sorry. I don’t have much control over them yet,” Michael replied sheepishly.

“Do they want me to carry you?” Jeremy gauged the idea of carrying Michael to the bathroom. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever come up with.

“It’d probably be less awkward than walking there like this,” Michael agreed.

“So I’m just going to…” Jeremy twisted around in the space the wings allowed him. Michael hissed out a pained breath, but soon he was behind Jeremy. “How well can you jump?”

Pretty well, apparently. Jeremy barely needed to adjust for the weight of Michael on his own back, hands linked beneath Michael’s knees. “Okay. Let’s get you taken care of.”

“I am not a child, Jer,” Michael said wearily. Still, he pressed the side of his face into Jeremy’s hair. “I am sorry to be such a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Mike. You’re my friend. I’m absolutely willing to help you out when you’re in need.”

“Mmmmm,” Michael sounded almost mournful. But he didn’t argue.

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “So, I’m thinking they might need a decent soaking, right? Birds like to be fully submerged when they clean their wings right?”

Michael blinked at him from where he sat on the toilet lid. “What are you even saying?”

“The blood.”

“It is not dried yet. Not completely anyway.”

“So what? You were planning to just wing this whole thing, weren’t you?” Jeremy shrugged off his jacket.

Michael snorted. “I was planning to shower, Jeremy. But I guess I was planning to wing it, considering how I have wings now.” His wings stretched as he spoke, emphasizing his point. “I just don’t have the strength to stand there long enough to wash them off.”

“I-“ Jeremy sputtered. Clearing his throat, he tried to skip over the accidental pun he’d made. “Just going to let the water do the work?”

“That’s the goal.” Michael frowned. “There’s just a few problems.”

“Such as?”

“My shirt isn’t going to come off the same way it went on this morning.”

“Are you particularly attached to that shirt?” Jeremy asked.

“Not really. Could try to just-“ Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll go grab a pair of scissors,” Jeremy said as Michael pulled experimentally at his shirt again.

He had to be careful walking by the couch, noticing Evan curled up for a nap. Gregory was nowhere in sight.

Returning with the scissors, Jeremy nearly dropped them upon seeing Michael. “What happened? I was gone for two minutes!”

Michael’s shirt was hanging off his body in shreds. When Jeremy looked closer, he could see sharp claws on Michael’s hands. “I…” Michael shrugged sheepishly. “I thought I could tear the fabric and take it off myself.”

Jeremy’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t let himself laugh. “Okay. I don’t think you did a very good job of it though.”

“It seems as though I failed…”

“Here, let me just…” Jeremy carefully reached around Michael’s head, one knee resting between his legs. It felt strange to be cutting through Michael’s shirt, but as the fabric gave way, Michael seemed to relax a little more.

Jeremy recalled Gregory and Evan both sitting on the couch as Michael measured the shape they needed cut from their shirts for the wings. Perhaps Michael needed a few of those done as well. Something to keep in mind for later.

“Hey, why is there blood all over-“ Gregory’s eyes widened as he peered into the bathroom.

Michael straightened quickly. Jeremy pulled back, hiding the scissors. “Hello.” Michael waved awkwardly, his wings stiff and very clearly exposed.

“You… you have them too?” Gregory’s voice seemed so small.

“Yes, it appears as though we will match.”

Gregory swallowed harshly. “I can help. I know how to get blood stains out of fabric.”

“I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Superstar.” Michael beamed at Gregory, who flushed a deep red.

“It’s no big deal…”

“Not to you,” Jeremy said softly. “But it helps more than you realize. Thank you.”

Gregory opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He scratched his neck as his wings fluffed up, finally saying, “I’ll be quick. It probably won’t be good if Evan finds out.”

“It would be best if he did not know how messy the process is,” Michael agreed.

Gregory nodded, smoothing his hair down before hurrying out of the room.

Michael wadded the scraps of his shirt into a ball and tossed it to the floor. “Now that that’s sorted…”

Jeremy determinedly kept his eyes from wandering as he helped Michael stand. His friend leaned heavily against him for support as he attempted to undo his pants.

Jeremy belatedly realized that the only way this whole thing would work was if the shower ran over both of them. I’m going to be drenched, he thought sorrowfully as Michael muttered to himself in frustration.

“You could probably just sit while I wash the blood off,” Jeremy said when Michael finally stood there in his boxers. “Since it would be less exhausting for you.”

Michael blinked. “I suppose you are correct. I should have thought this through more.”

“It’s no big deal, man. You’re probably dealing with blood loss or whatever.”

“Still…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You spend all this time taking care of everybody. Maybe it’s time someone took care of you, right?”

Michael chewed his lip. “I suppose.”

“Okay. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time, Mike.” Jeremy said, smiling supportively. Michael tentatively smiled back.

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to clean up Michael than Jeremy initially thought. He kept twitching away, hissing out noises of pain at Jeremy’s touch.

Michael clenched his fists in his lap. “Okay. Clearly this is not the proper solution.”

“I can’t do this when it’s clearly hurting you, Mike. I just…” Jeremy leaned forward to rest his head against the back of Michael’s.

“This is nothing. I have endured much worse before.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Jeremy.” Michael said calmly, wringing water out of the washcloth. “I am sure it has become clear to you that things are not how they should be. The wings are only one part of it.”

“Yeah? What I’m hearing is that your father is abusive.” Jeremy wearily took the washcloth back, dabbing it gently against the space between Michael’s wings. At least like that it didn’t seem to hurt him.

“Well, not in the way you would think. Actually, I was thinking more of the comparison between growing limbs and losing organs. I think losing organs is still a more painful experience than this.”

“So you want me to just ignore your pain?” Jeremy asked, trying to decipher Michael’s meaning.

“I am saying I can handle it. I can be a man about this.”

No one is doubting that, Jeremy thought grimly to himself. “Maybe I can’t.” He tentatively rubbed at a clump of blood in the inner edge of Michael’s wing.

Immediately, it swung at him, throwing him against the sink. Pain flared throughout Jeremy’s entire body as he hit the floor. Faintly he registered that his face was bleeding.

“Jeremy?” Michael asked, twisting around. “Are you alright?”

“Nnnnngh,” Jeremy groaned. “I don’t think I broke anything.”

“I am so sorry. It appears that the wings are more sensitive than I thought.”

“No kidding.” Jeremy pressed his fingers to his cheek. He was lucky. The clawed joint of Michael’s wing had hit him just below the eye. Any higher, and he might’ve lost it completely. “Now what?”

“I suppose I should just sit under the water and hope for the best.”

“I think Gregory and Evan mentioned messages working out the soreness. Maybe I could at the very least-“

“I think we should avoid that for now,” Michael replied, his voice sounding stiff. “You have already been hurt once today.”

“Michael.” Jeremy tried to make his voice sound stern. “I knew the risks when I offered to help. So let me help.”

“Fine. Just do not do anything that will put you in danger again.”

“Don’t lie about how much it hurts next time,” Jeremy shot back. “Still gotta get all that blood out of your wings, you know.”

Michael clenched his jaw, but he only stared down into his hands. He couldn’t face Jeremy with the nasty cut on his face any longer.

Jeremy was lighter after that. He knew that even pressing a little too hard would make the wings spaz, and over the course of the next few hours, he succeeded with minimal interruptions.

Gregory popped in near the end to check on the progress. “Henry’s back. Do you want me to tell him about this?” He gestured at the entirety of the bathroom.

“I believe he should be informed. Please ensure that my brother does not come to investigate before we are done here.”

“And maybe grab him a dry set of clothes while you’re at it,” Jeremy said. As an afterthought, he looked at himself. “Maybe grab me something too, if you would.”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How much does it hurt?”

“I suspect that I should be in more pain than I am,” Michael said, considering the question. “But Jeremy has done an excellent job of making sure the process is less than agonizing.”

“Uh, okay?” Gregory shot Jeremy a look.

“I can’t hardly touch him without the wings reacting,” Jeremy explained. “Nearly lost an eye the first time I did that.”

“So it’s bad.”

“It’s bad,” Jeremy agreed.

Gregory shot Michael a look loaded with concern, but he gave Jeremy a thumbs up. “I’ll ask Henry if he can get you guys some dry clothes. Maybe I’ll just imply that something else is going on in here if Evan asks.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Jeremy’s face burn.

“Gregory-“

But Gregory had already ducked out of the room, laughing quietly to himself. Jeremy sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable glares he’d get from Evan.

Michael sighed softly once Jeremy finally went to smooth out the wings. “That feels really nice.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jeremy said softly. “I think we got all the blood out.”

“Is it time to turn the water off then?” Michael asked, his eyes closing.

“I’d say so.” Thank goodness, Jeremy thought as he turned the dials back and pressed the tab down. “Now you need to dry off a bit.”

“Mmmmm….” Michael hummed to himself as Jeremy stepped into the tub with a towel and started rubbing Michael’s head with it.

Michael’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Jeremy. “You really do like taking care of me, don’t you?”

Jeremy huffed out a sigh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”

“I thought you just stuck around to steal our Coca Cola.”

“That too. But I do enjoy your company, Mike.”

The smile broke into a full grin as Michael tugged the towel out of Jeremy’s hands. “That is wonderful news, Jeremy.”

Did he really not know? Jeremy wondered.

Before he had a chance to answer, Henry peered into the bathroom, assessing the pool of water on the floor. He raised a tired eyebrow as he observed the two boys in the bathtub. “I wasn’t inclined to believe Gregory before, but seeing it for myself…”

Jeremy’s face ignited with heat. “I was just helping clean blood from his wings. Nothing else happened, I swear.”

“I was referring to the fact that Michael grew wings. What did you think I meant?” Henry’s eyebrows scrunched, and Michael gave Jeremy a funny look.

“I thought Gregory might’ve said something else,” Jeremy replied, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

“Are you alright, Jeremy? You look a bit feverish…” A frown tugged at the corner of Michael’s mouth.

“I’m going to go grab some more towels. And you two will be wanting a dry set of clothes, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded quickly.

Henry hummed at them before walking back out of the room.

“I am grateful for both you and Gregory,” Michael said, using the towel to dry the rest of his body. He slowly rose to his feet, finally able to stand on his own.

Jeremy determinedly did not stare. Instead, he wrung water from his hair.

“I would offer you the towel, but I believe it is too wet to be any real help. Seeing as your clothes are also drenched, the best course of action is to wait for Henry to return.”

Jeremy smiled weakly. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Michael stepped out of the tub, hanging the towel back on the rack after he went. Jeremy could admit that the wings looked pretty good on Mike. He’d been weary of it when he’d first seen the wings on Gregory, and he knew that Gregory was defensive about it now. But maybe seeing him help Michael would help.

“Do you need a bandage for your face?” Michael asked, making eye contact with Jeremy through the mirror above the sink.

“Oh, I uh.” Jeremy blinked at him. “It doesn’t… It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Michael’s mouth twitched. “I understand that me being like this must be unpleasant for you, but that does not mean you do not need assistance with that cut.”

Being like this? Was Michael phrasing things like that on purpose? Was he talking about the fact that he was in his boxers or the fact that he had wings? Jeremy crossed his arms before remembering that his shirt was soaked. He uncrossed them and simply said, “There is no problem. I just don’t need a Band-Aid.”

Michael walked back over, and Jeremy tried to take a step back before remembering he was standing in a bathtub. Trapped, Jeremy stood stiffly as Michael ran a thumb over his scratch. Don’t flinch, he told himself, but it still stung. The cut was pretty deep.

“You likely do need a bandage, despite your claim otherwise,” Michael replied. “I can help, if you need assistance.”

Michael gently wiped blood from Jeremy’s face and went in search of medical supplies. It stung when he cleaned the wound, but Jeremy found himself too fascinated by Michael’s cautious care to really notice. The tiniest furrow in Michael’s eyebrows appeared when he put the bandage on Jeremy’s face, and his hands lingered on Jeremy’s jaw for just a moment too long.

He almost seemed sad when he stepped back from Jeremy. “All better. See?” Michael smiled so quickly Jeremy wondered if he’d imagined the pain in Michael’s eyes.

“Y… yeah. Um. Thanks.” Jeremy touched the bandage, surprised by how big it was. “I didn’t realize the scratch was that big.”

“I still feel terrible for doing that to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Michael asked.

Unable to come up with anything to say other than a request for Michael to kiss him, Jeremy shook his head and turned his attention to Michael’s wings. “Do they still hurt?”

“Not as much as they did,” Michael flexed them experimentally. Jeremy smiled faintly, recalling that Gregory was having immense difficulty controlling his own wings. Perhaps the size made it easier.

Michael made a face. “It appears that moving them still hurts, however.”

“Evan mentioned something about messaging the muscles earlier. He was doing it for Gregory.”

Michael brightened. “I suppose I shall have to ask for Evan’s help with that endeavor then. Thank you for the reminder.”

I could do it for you, Jeremy thought desperately. He didn’t want to just have to leave after everything. This was the most time he’d spent with Michael before, and the guy was just so chill about everything. But being in the same space as him, watching him interact with his brother and Gregory made him want to stay so much longer. Michael Afton was the most compassionate person Jeremy had ever met, and he wanted to be able to help the man who tried so hard to help everyone else.

It didn’t help that Jeremy was also hopelessly in love with him.

As Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Henry returned with the changes of clothes. Michael turned his attention away from Jeremy to thank Henry and apologize for the water all over the floor, and Jeremy was left to awkwardly collect the pile of bloody clothes on the floor to offer them to Henry.

Henry stared at the rags for a moment, his face paling significantly. “These were Michael’s clothes?”

“Yes.” Michael was separating the clothes to split between himself and Jeremy, and he was hardly focused on Henry. “I could not find a way to safely remove my shirt without causing more pain, so Jeremy helped me cut it off. I am afraid blood does not come out of denim very easily, so my jeans are also a lost cause.”

Brightening, Michael put a bundle of clothing into Jeremy’s arms. “You can change in Charlie’s old room.”

“Why can’t you both change in here?” Henry asked, sounding confused.

Pressure built in Jeremy’s throat as he tried to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of himself. Not by any measure at all. He just knew it was dangerous, what he was. People didn’t exactly approve of people like him, after all. Especially not here.

Michael gave Henry a scathing look as tears built up behind Jeremy’s eyes. “Maybe we don’t want to change in the same room.”

Henry blinked in surprise, but he glanced between the two boys for a moment before making his exit. Michael patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can go to Charlie’s room instead, if you would prefer to change in here.”

Jeremy still couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. The gentle way Michael nodded back at him filled his body with a strange warmth. A few moments later, Michael was gone, and Jeremy could finally change out of the sopping wet layers he’d been in this whole time.

Half-way through changing, Jeremy noticed that most of the clothes were baggy and easy to layer over each other. There were almost too many options. A jolt ran through him when he considered that Michael had sorted through the clothes. Either Michael was very particular, or he knew.

Hurriedly, Jeremy finished changing and practically ran to the bedroom where Michael said he’d be changing. He basically flung the door open to a startled Mike, who had jeans on but no shirt. “Is something wrong?” Michael asked.

His wings and hair fluffed up, like he’d been expecting a threat, but his expression was one of concern. Jeremy knew he was shaking, knew he wouldn’t be able to speak for a moment, but he stood there and just stared. Why did Michael have to be adorable in everything he did? The way his mouth curled into a frown made half of his mouth seem to vanish, like he was biting on it constantly distracted Jeremy from what he wanted to say.

He let his eyes wander over Michael’s bare torso as he tried to find the words to speak. The worst of his secrets was surely out already, and if Michael figured out his feelings, it would be less painful than him knowing the other secret.

Fascination over the jagged scar across Michael’s chest sprouted in his heart. Jeremy had seen it before, of course. He’d seen it in the bathroom, but he’d been trying not to stare before.

“Jeremy?” Michael looked worried now. “Are you alright?”

Maybe Michael didn’t know. Maybe he just hadn’t grabbed a shirt at all, since they had to be cut specifically for the wings anyway. Jeremy was probably just overreacting. And even if he wasn’t, it seemed that Michael wasn’t going to bring it up. “Uhmm. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Michael relaxed. “I’m quite alright, Jeremy. I’m not as weak as I was before. The shower certainly helped.”

“You’re um. You’re very fluffy right now.”

“Am I?” Michael ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it stuck up all over the place. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for talking to Henry back there.”

“It was nothing.” Michael blinked at him, wings twitching. “Gregory did a good job cleaning up.” He gestured at the carpet and the bed.

The bed was made very neatly, corners tucked so much better than Jeremy could do on a good day. There were only faint hints that someone had been bleeding there, and they were only visible because Jeremy was looking for them. “Yeah. He certainly did.”

A fond smile crossed Michael’s face at that. “He’s so sweet.”

Jeremy didn’t really believe that, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want Michael to stop smiling for anything. It was so much better than his frown in every possible way.

“We should… I um. I think we should probably head back to the living room,” Jeremy said awkwardly.

“Right, yes. I suppose it is almost time for you to head home too.” Michael blinked, like he was shaking himself out of a daydream. “Or maybe you could stay for supper?”

Jeremy smiled. “I would love that.”

Evan was awestruck when he saw his brother’s wings. “They’re so big!”

“Soft too,” Jeremy said, trying to encourage Evan’s excitement.

Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat before saying, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Jeremy stared at him, mouth opening and closing without words coming out.

“No softer than yours, I’m sure,” Michael said, trying to keep the peace. There wasn’t even a hint of a blush on his face at Gregory’s words. Were the jokes just going over his head? Maybe Jeremy was reading too much into it.

Shaking his head, Jeremy plopped down on the couch beside Gregory. “What happened to your face?” Gregory asked quietly.

“I wasn’t careful enough,” Jeremy answered, glancing at the two brothers as they talked about Michael’s new wings. “And Mike’s wings pack quite the punch.”

“Oh.” Gregory’s eyes widened with understanding. “That could’ve been bad.”

“You’re telling me, kid.” Jeremy shook his head, taking a sip from his can of Coke. “What were you and Evan up to today?”

“Videogames mostly,” Gregory replied. “Although everything here is so old.”

“Old?” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Nah, my parents are worse. You’re probably just picky. A bunch of this stuff is newer than anything my family could afford.”

“Your motorcycle is cool though.”

Jeremy smiled. “It is pretty cool.”

“Can you take me on it sometime?”

The smile faltered slightly. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“C’mon, please? All the stuff here is pretty boring, and I know Evan tries to be fun, but you can only play the same game for so long before it’s lame. And I don’t want to have to tell him it’s lame. It’s awful when he cries.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to make of that. “Maybe we could play a board game or something.”

“I wanna go on your bike sometime.” Gregory stuck out his chin stubbornly. “Or I’m going to tell Mike you have the biggest crush on him and-“

“Okay, okay! I get it. But you’ll have to wear a helmet,” Jeremy said, looking away and tugging at his shirt. “And long pants. Just in case.”

“Okay, Dad.” Gregory rolled his eyes.

“Well, you’re the one who said it’s awful when Evan cries,” Jeremy shot back. “And I’ve already seen how Mike cries, and I don’t want to see that again. No thanks.”

Gregory flinched at that. “I…”

“Not to frighten you, but it can be dangerous.” Jeremy sighed. “There’s only so much you can be safe. Not to quote my mom, but ‘I’d rather you be late than dead.’ It’s just that kind of thing.”

Seeing Gregory’s expression, he softened. “I’m a firm believer in the fact that both of us are going to get lectured by Michael when he finds out. So, when he tries, we’re going to tell him that I already told you all the risks and you still wanted to do it. Unless I’ve changed your mind.”

“No, haven’t changed my mind.” Gregory scooted closer to Jeremy. “I bet I’d survive a crash better than you.”

“No way,” Jeremy laughed. “With the way you’re built? No offense, but you’d be a splatter on the cement.”

“Rude.” Gregory scoffed. Not subtly at all, he tried to steal Jeremy’s Coke from his hand.

Amused, Jeremy let him. Gregory immediately started downing what was left in the can. At that moment, Michael glanced over and gasped. “Gregory! Is that Coke? Are you encouraging this, Jeremy?”

“He took the can out of my hand. I didn’t do anything,” Jeremy smiled cheekily. “Not my fault he’s so fast.”

“Mmmmm,” Gregory squinted skeptically at the can. “This is Coke?”

“Yeah?” Jeremy looked confused. “Why? Does it taste weird to you or something?”

“It’s better than I remember.”

Michael sighed, removing the can from Gregory’s hands. “That is because Coca-Cola has different flavoring in it than you remember.”

“Are you talking about the whole cocaine in Coke thing? Because I thought that was a myth.”

Michael shot Jeremy an exasperated look. “That is not what I am talking about. Anyway, Gregory does not need caffeine in his system at this time of day. He won’t get any sleep at this rate.”

“Whoops?” Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. “Look I-“

“It does not matter.” Michael shot Gregory a meaningful look. “So long as he doesn’t keep Evan up with his extra energy, it should be fine.”

Evan peered at them all from behind the sofa. “How did he even take it from you? I thought you kept a tight grip on those at all times.”

“Caught me by surprise?” Jeremy shifted his weight as Michael gave him a skeptical look. “He’s faster than he looks, I swear.”

Evan snorted, climbing over the back of the sofa, much to Michael’s despair as he said, “Well, that gives him a one-up in physical games I guess.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I totally crush at Fazblock!” Gregory crossed his arms. “I had more blocks than you did.”

“Gregory, you’re supposed to get rid of the blocks, not keep them on the screen.” Evan shook his head despairingly. “I would’ve explained the rules if you’d asked-“

“It was different than what I’m used to, okay?” Gregory rolled his eyes. “I could totally beat you at Fazzy Kart.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Evan replied. “I still think you made it up.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Okay, that is enough.” Michael shook his head, smiling faintly. “Gregory did not make it up. Fazzy Kart just has not come out yet.” He ruffled Evan’s hair before walking away with the empty Coke can. “And I have something for you two to do when I get back!”

“A task?” Gregory asked.

“A task.” Evan snorted. “Ah yes, my brother typically assigns me tasks. No, Gregory. He’s sending us to do chores or something. Usually he’s more mean about it though.”

“No one understands my jokes.” Gregory’s wing twitched irritably.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jeremy replied. “He still laughed, even if he didn’t get it. Be nonsensical! Nobody cares as long as you’re funny.”

“That’s a terrible line of logic. I refuse to believe that people willingly follow your example,” Michael said, returning with a sheet of paper. “Evan, Gregory, I am trusting you two to find everything on this list and bring it back here.”

“We don’t have money,” Gregory said, but he still took the list from Michael’s hands. “And aren’t we supposed to stay inside until we figure out what to do about our wings? And wait, is it safe to-“

“You worry too much, Gregory. We can just ask Uncle Henry for help.” Evan peered at the grocery list. “What are you making, Mikey? This looks like spaghetti sauce, but you don’t use half this stuff normally.”

“Wait and see,” Michael said cryptically. His own wings twitched as he spoke, even seeming a tiny bit ruffled.

“With the overabundance of clothes Henry seems to have, maybe he has jackets you can just throw on over the wings or something,” Jeremy said, slowly rising from the couch as Gregory and Evan stood to examine the list closer.

“We can handle this,” Evan said with full confidence. “And we’ll try to be fast so you can get started sooner.”

“Thank you, Evan.” There was a deeper tone of relief in Michael’s voice at that. “My heroes.”

Jeremy smiled wearily at them all. “I should probably get going.” It felt like intruding to stay this long. Sure, they all tried to include him, but Michael probably had other things he planned to do while Evan and Gregory were gone. Perhaps he needed to talk to his uncle more or something. Regardless, Jeremy had overstayed his welcome.

“I thought you said you could stay for supper.” Michael sounded wounded. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to lie down?”

He pressed his hand against Jeremy’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I’m fine, Michael. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know?” Jeremy ducked away from Michael’s hand and kept his gaze on the carpet. “Especially if you’re all going to be busy.”

“I won’t be busy until they get back,” Michael replied as Gregory tugged on Evan’s shirt to lead him away. “And even then, I won’t be too busy to talk. You can sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.”

“Yeah but…” Jeremy hesitated, combing a hand through his hair. “Look, I just don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be,” Michael insisted. He sat down on the sofa where Gregory had been sitting before. Patting the cushion next to him, he waited for Jeremy to sit back down.

When Jeremy sat down, Michael gestured for him to scoot closer. “What are you doing?” Jeremy asked nervously.

“Your hair is a mess,” Michael replied. “I’m going to fix it for you.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy frowned, patting his hair self-consciously.

“It’s all tangled. That’s going to be a nightmare to brush out tomorrow if you don’t take care of it tonight.”

“Oh.” Jeremy looked away. “It shouldn’t be your responsibility-“

“My wings shouldn’t have been yours,” Michael countered. “Let me do a nice thing for you. Please.”

“I helped with your wings because I wanted to spend time with you. Not because it was a burden, Mike.”

“This isn’t a burden to me either. Let me help. Maybe I want to spend more time with you too.”

Jeremy didn’t have a counter to that, so he reluctantly sighed. “Just… be gentle on it, okay?”

“Of course.” He blinked, seemingly surprised that Jeremy gave in so easily. “I do need to go grab a brush and a comb.”

“Naturally.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa as Michael got up.

What was he even supposed to say to Michael? He hadn’t expected to get this far, and now faced with the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him, Jeremy panicked.

When Michael got back, the hair brush he carried had long strands of dark brown hair in it, and both the brush and the comb were shining with water. “I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said awkwardly. “But I know that hair gets really, really tangled, so I just wanted to make sure I could get the tangles out without hurting you.”

Oh. That was… surprisingly considerate. “And the water is supposed to fix tangles?”

“Better than a dry brush.”

Jeremy just stared. The most he’d been able to do with his hair was to throw it into the world’s worst ponytail when he needed it out of his face. All this talk of the more effective way to brush through his hair without making it hurt stirred something in his chest. There was nothing Michael would do that could possibly hurt more than the way he was currently doing his hair.

Michael sat back down and got to work. It was strange. Jeremy hadn’t had anyone brush his hair in a long time. His mother had been too busy with work to even notice that he needed help with his hair. Or anything really.

“You have really thick hair,” Michael mused softly.

“Yeah. Makes it a real pain sometimes,” Jeremy replied.

Michael was so gentle with it, apologizing softly when the brush scraped his ear or a snag was too rough. Eventually, though, he set the brush aside and started dividing his hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you with your hair,” Michael replied as he started braiding it. “I assume you don’t have a hair brush for yourself, or maybe you just don’t have much time to do your hair every day. But at the very least, braiding it back at night prevents most tangles from getting worse.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff, dude?” Jeremy wondered. “Like, you know more about this than I do.”

“I…” Michael hesitated. “Evan’s not my only sibling. I had a sister. Elizabeth. Her hair was more of a nightmare than this.”

“Oh.” Jeremy fidgeted. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

“And, there!” Michael twisted a ponytail into the end of Jeremy’s hair. “Less problems for later, see?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy touched a hand to the braid, smiling softly. “Thanks, man.”

“It’s nothing.”

“But I say it is something. Come here, Mike.”

Michael’s wings fluffed up ever so slightly, but he did as Jeremy asked, unprepared for the tackle-hug Jeremy gave him. He gasped in alarm as they ended up on the floor, but when he looked up at Jeremy, it was with what Jeremy could only describe as adoration. Then he was suddenly pressed completely up against Michael as his wings wrapped around them both.

Of course, that was also the moment Evan and Gregory came back from their shopping trip with the supplies Michael had asked for. Letting Jeremy up, Michael immediately accepted the groceries from Evan and went straight to the kitchen. Gregory and Evan were left staring at Jeremy, who was sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“Might need some help preparing this!” Michael called.

Before any of them could move toward the door, however, Henry walked by to go help Michael. Which left Jeremy to get teased by the two younger boys.

“What was that about?” Evan asked, picking a long blue feather out of Jeremy’s hair.

“What were you doing on the floor?” Gregory asked.

“Mike did my hair,” Jeremy replied, gesturing at the hairbrush that now had long strands of gold intertwined with the brown.

Evan looked thoughtful as he fiddled with the feather. “I didn’t know Mikey knew how to do hair.”

“Didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Gregory asked, picking a smaller, brown feather from Jeremy’s shirt. “He could’ve done her hair once or twice.”

“Maybe…” Evan didn’t sound very sure. “Mikey wasn’t… I don’t know. Maybe he did. I never knew, though.”

“He did mention it when I asked…” Jeremy said, suddenly embarrassed to know more than Evan.

Evan fiddled with the feather more. “He seems to like you a lot.”

“Mike?” Jeremy asked, even more embarrassed now.

“Yeah. He smiles when he talks to you.”

“Except that one day,” Gregory interrupted. “He came inside and cried.”

“That was something else, I think,” Evan responded. “I think the Nightmares finally got to him.”

“So I take it Mike doesn’t usually talk about his issues then?”

“Not usually.” Evan squirmed, his wings puffing up. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shook his head and finally got off the floor. “Do you want to try playing Kings in the Corner again?”

“Ugh, that’s so boring,” Gregory replied, but Evan was already rushing off to get the cards.

“I need a second. I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said, slipping into the kitchen to grab another can of Coke.

Michael glanced over from where he was cutting an onion and just sighed. “Jeremy-“

“I know, I know. It’s bad for me or whatever. But I need it, okay?” Jeremy took a long swig from the can. “Better than some habits.”

“Still…”

“It’s fine dude. Cut your onion or whatever.”

Henry said something that Jeremy didn’t catch as he rushed back to the living room. “Okay, are we ready to start?”

“This game is stupid,” Gregory grumbled. He was holding his seven cards, and Evan had already laid out the board.

“I dealt, so Gregory goes first,” Evan replied, ignoring Gregory’s comment.

“Lucky,” Jeremy said, eyeing the board.

“I don’t even know how to play,” Gregory complained. “This game is for old people.”

“I guess we’re old then.” Jeremy’s eyes twinkled. “You have to play a card from your hand onto one of those four cards.” He pointed at the two of diamonds, the king of spades, the four of diamonds, and the seven of diamonds respectively. “You want it to be a lower rank, or less points than the card on the stack. And it’s gotta be the opposite color.”

“Oh.” Gregory stared at his hand for a moment.

“You gotta tell him about the kings, Jeremy.” Evan shook his head. “If there’s a king, you can move it into the spaces between the four other cards, and put a new foundation card down.”

“Huh.” Gregory frowned. “This is too confusing.”

“It really isn’t,” Jeremy laughed, taking another sip from his Coke. “If you really want, you can add your cards back to the foundation pile and watch me and Evan play a game.”

“I’m just going to do that.” Gregory stuck his cards back in the bigger stack.

“Suits don’t matter,” Evan said helpfully. “Only color does.”

Jeremy set off to move the king, and the game begun. Evan went out on his first turn.

“Okay, that was a bad example,” Evan said with a grin.

“You didn’t shuffle very well,” Jeremy said accusingly.  “That was- arghhh. We’re playing another game so Gregory can actually see how the game works.”

“Are we doing points?” Evan said innocently.

“We will once Gregory joins in,” Jeremy replied, collecting the cards from the board. “These are warm-up rounds.”

“Riiiiight,” Gregory replied with an amused snort. “You just got destroyed.”

“Thank you for the obvious and accurate commentary, Gregory.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

When he flipped the four cards over, three of them were kings. Jeremy let out an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing and Evan grinned at the board. Just like that, he was down to one card. Jeremy scowled at his own cards as it became his turn.

“All four kings on the board in the first turn,” he grumbled.

“Now who’s bad at shuffling?” Evan replied, watching Jeremy’s hand drop to three cards.

“Oh, shut up.”

Evan snickered as it became his turn. “I almost wonder if you were trying to let me win.” He took the ace of diamonds and placed it on the two of clubs that Jeremy had missed during his turn. “Do you have the hang of it yet, Gregory? We may need a third player or this are going to be some very quick games.”

“Ha ha.” Jeremy said as Evan gathered up the cards again. “I’m just used to people who aren’t paying attention nearly as much as you do.”

“I’m just playing the game,” Evan said with a cheeky grin. “You had a six of spades in your hand? You could’ve played that on the seven-“

“I don’t want to hear it!” Jeremy sighed, exaggerating his grief as he drank from his can. “You have eyes like a hawk.”

Evan just hummed at that, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled the cards again. “What do you say, Gregory? Want to try and give it another shot?”

“Sure. Can’t be any worse than Jeremy, right?”

“Alright, I get it.” Jeremy shook his head. “I guess this game isn’t as awful as you want to claim it is, huh?”

“We’ll see.”

Evan pulled out a baggy filled with little red chips and shook it for a moment. “I didn’t have a chance to grab paper, so we can just play with chips, right?”

“Let’s give Gregory one trial run first,” Jeremy said as Gregory stared blankly at the chip bag. “Let him get a feel for the game.”

Gregory’s first round went okay. He managed to play half his cards in the first go, but he failed to notice that he could’ve moved the king to the corner right away, and Jeremy took advantage of that. Humming to himself, Jeremy quickly went through his turn and waited for Evan.

“That is absurd,” Gregory said, watching Evan put down cards and move piles around rapidly. “There’s no way you’re not cheating.”

“It’s all natural, Gregory,” Evan said cheerfully. “You’re just mad because I’m better at games than you are.”

“Grrrrrr….” Gregory scowled as Evan tapped his own card against the table. He put down his one card and waited for Jeremy to go.

Adding another person really did slow down the game a lot, Jeremy thought to himself. This was the first round someone had actually had to draw a card. Evan hummed, but he also needed to draw a card. Unlike Jeremy, however, Evan couldn’t play his. Finally, the game was even again.

Gregory scowled at his cards. “What do I do if I can’t play?”

“Draw,” Jeremy said. “We’ve both done it.”

Grumbling, Gregory drew a card. He brightened as he realized he could play it, and then it was Jeremy’s turn. Jeremy sighed in relief as he was able to play a card on Gregory’s queen, and then move a ten on top of that. Moment of truth, he thought to himself as Evan studied his hand. Michael’s brother shook his head and drew another card. And promptly played it.

Gregory and Jeremy both groaned at that. “See, but now things get interesting,” Evan said cheerfully. “We’ve all been drawing cards and actually have to pay attention to the board.”

“Don’t you always have to pay attention to the board?” Gregory asked as he drew another card. “Ugh.”

“Depends on how close,” Jeremy said smugly, laying down his one card. “I win this round.”

Evan sighed wearily, but he said nothing as Jeremy collected the cards to shove them at Gregory. “Your turn to shuffle.”

Gregory pushed the cards back at Jeremy. “I don’t know how.”

“I guess I can do it for you. But you’re still dealing, alright? Seven cards to each of us.”

Gregory nodded as Jeremy shuffled, and Evan quickly explained how chips worked. Everyone put one chip in at the beginning. Then, when you drew a card, you’d put another chip in. Each card at the end of the game still in your hand was another chip, except for kings. Kings were ten chips.

They all put one chip in the middle as Gregory passed out cards.

“Ready for your first real round, Gregory?” Jeremy asked, looking over his cards.

Gregory huffed, but he nodded anyway. “This is still dumb.”

“What if we made it a bit more fun?” Evan asked. “I’ll put in this feather.” He held up the blue feather he’d picked out of Jeremy’s hair.

“We’re playing for feathers?” Gregory asked. “But we both have feathers.”

“Not just any feathers. Michael’s feathers. I know him better than you do, trust me. He wouldn’t just give those away.”

Gregory considered it for a moment as Jeremy bit his lip. It seemed plenty easy to get feathers in his opinion. Michael shed two of them while Jeremy hugged him before. “Deal. I’ll put in this one.”

Gregory set the brown feather on top of the three chips. Evan did the same with the blue feather. Both of them glanced at Jeremy expectantly.

“I don’t have any. You both took those from me in the first place.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. The feathers were cool, though.

He kind of wished he had some of his own, maybe to braid through his hair or something. But that required winning this game. And since Evan was really good at Kings in the Corner, and also used all the chips in the box, it was really unlikely that he’d win them at the end.

“How about…” Jeremy put twenty more chips in the pot. “I know it doesn’t balance out at all, but you two seem to really want those feathers.”

Evan grinned, and so, the game began.

Gregory surprised them all by nearly going out in his first turn, but Evan still won the first game. They played in relative silence, too busy concentrating to hold a proper conversation. Evan crushed them in the first few rounds, but Gregory eventually got a win when Evan had 6 cards in his hand, resulting in a somewhat decent counter-balance.

It did nothing for Jeremy though. He looked nervously at his dwindling pile of chips every time the game ended and knew it was very unlikely that he’d win. It wasn’t impossible, sure, but it was incredibly unlikely.

“This is eight, Gregory,” Evan said absently, after Jeremy had already played his first turn. “We can play it, but you should pay better attention.”

Jeremy bit his lip at that. He was losing really bad. He really needed a win, and he needed one where the other two were struggling. Accidentally starting a round on eight cards was not a great way to start that.

“How did you even notice that?” Gregory asked.

“Eight feels thicker than seven.”

“How much do you play cards? Jeez,” Jeremy asked as it became Gregory’s turn.

“Enough,” Evan said with an amused smile. “I usually play alone.”

“This doesn’t feel like a game you can play alone,” Gregory muttered.

“You can. It’s just not as fun. But I don’t play this,” Evan said as Jeremy had to draw yet again. “I play Solitare.”

“Right, silly me.” Gregory shook his head. “Dude, how are you losing the game you suggested?”

“It takes a lot of luck, Gregory.” Jeremy sighed, having emptied his can of Coke long ago. “I’ve already accepted my fate. Now it’s just a matter of wondering who wins overall.”

They all fell quiet again as they settled back into their concentration. A few tense rounds went by as they all drew cards. When Evan finally played a card, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d last another round.

Or… maybe not. It was a close thing, that balance between drawing and playing. “Are we going to go through the whole deck?” Gregory eventually wondered.

“Maybe,” Jeremy replied wearily.

The pot was massive at this point. Evan’s brow was continuously furrowed, and even his wings were stiff with concentration. There’s no strategy that trumps the good cards being at the bottom of the deck, Jeremy thought to himself with grim amusement.

“Ha!” Gregory shouted his delight as he finally laid his last card.

Jeremy sighed sorrowfully as he glanced at his four chips. He would only have two left for another game after this. If only it had been Jeremy who’d drawn the card to end the game.

“I don’t even remember who shuffled that one,” Jeremy said as Gregory gathered the pot.

“It was Gregory. He started us with eight cards,” Evan replied. “You shuffle next.”

“I’m not going to make it through this game,” Jeremy muttered.

“Then we’ll just play it out, and you can be done after,” Evan shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll win?”

“For every draw you have that you can’t play, I’ll put in a chip,” Gregory offered as Jeremy put his last chip in the pot. “It’ll keep things fair.”

“I’m sure,” Jeremy muttered.

“Awww, you are a grumpy old man. Evan look! He’s so grumpy.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

Evan put his last card down, and Jeremy shook his head. “I’m out. Good luck, Gregory.”

He wondered what Michael and Henry were up to in the kitchen. It had been two hours of this, after all. Surely preparing a meal wouldn’t take that long, especially since Evan implied Michael was making spaghetti.

“Okay, I gotta know. What spaghetti takes three hours to make?” Jeremy said, sitting down at the kitchen table with Henry.

“It’s not the spaghetti that takes so long,” Michael replied from the stove. “It’s the sauce.”

“But why?”

“The flavor has to soak in from the leaves.” Michael shrugged, moving to sit down with them. “What were you playing in there?”

“Cards.” Jeremy shrugged. “Gregory said it was for old people.”

“Then he must have never played cards before,” Henry commented.

“Maybe it’s his age,” Michael suggested.

“Nah. Your brother got really into it. He’s been beating both of us.”

“THAT’S SO STUPID!!!” Gregory shouted from the other room.

Evan laughed and said something in response, as they all glanced toward the hallway.

“No way,” Gregory said, his voice still projecting from the other room. “That’s so stupid!”

“I think the sauce is about done,” Michael said, rising from his seat again. “I should probably begin on the actual spaghetti.”

“I appreciate you deciding to cook for us, Michael,” Henry said. “And not that I’m complaining about your food, but this seems more complicated than some of the other stuff you’ve made.”

Michael just blinked at him, filling a pot with water. “It’s just spaghetti.”

Gregory and Evan walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “It smells great in here,” Evan said.

Michael glanced at his brother and at Gregory for a moment. “Who won?”

“Evan,” Gregory grumbled crossing his arms. “But he cheats.”

“I do not! Withholding cards on my turn is within the rules of the game. Just because it means you have to draw more doesn’t mean it’s cheating!” Evan argued.

“He’s right, Gregory. If he’s withholding cards, it’s still a risk to him since you can easily draw a card at any moment and win the game yourself. There’s a reason it’s ten chips if you’re holding a king at the end of the game.”

“Hmph,” Gregory scowled.

“Jeremy, do you need a new bandage for your face?” Henry asked as Gregory and Evan glared at each other from across the table.

“What? Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” Jeremy hadn’t realized that the edge of his bandage was peeling off.

“We’ll get that taken care of later,” Henry said. “Were you planning on staying over tonight?”

“I…” Jeremy glanced around the room. “I don’t know.”

“If you decide to stay, let me know so I can tell your parents,” Henry replied, seemingly satisfied. “And would you like another can of Coca-Cola?”

“Yes please.”

“Don’t encourage his addiction, Henry.” Michael crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Jeremy responded by sticking his tongue out at Michael. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Jeremy saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Can I have one too?” Gregory asked.

“Absolutely not,” Michael replied. His wings twitched slightly. “You’re done with caffeine for the rest of the night. If you’re this loud after half a can, I shudder to think of what would happen if you got a full can of Coke.”

“You’re not my mom,” Gregory grumbled.

Jeremy’s mouth twitched. “He tries to act like it though, doesn’t he?”

Michael made an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing. Evan giggled too, adding, “Mama bird Mike.”

All three of them broke into bad laughing fits at that one. Henry and Michael just exchanged an exasperated look as Michael stirred the spaghetti. “I can act like it if you really want me to,” Michael eventually said. “But I don’t think you’d like the response, seeing as you two are baby birds in this analogy.”

“What do you mean?” Gregory asked, bewildered.

“I think what he’s getting at,” Jeremy said, amusement glinting in his eye, “is that mother birds regurgitate food into their chicks mouths.”

“Ewwwww,” Gregory gagged.

Evan snorted. “Mikey wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve certainly done worse.”

Evan froze at that. He seemed to be considering Michael’s point. “He totally would…” Evan sounded horrified.

“And with that terrible mental image, it seems that the spaghetti is done!” Henry said, putting a can of Coke in front of Jeremy before going to fetch everyone plates.

“I just need to strain the noodles, and we’re all set,” Michael said. “Could you grab the strainer please?”

Henry nodded and retrieved the strainer. Evan hummed to himself as he fiddled with the two feathers he’d won in the card game. Gregory said nothing, but Jeremy could tell it he was still bitter from his loss. Surely Michael wouldn’t be unwilling to give up feathers if they asked, Jeremy thought to himself. Maybe he’d be uncomfortable with the idea, but if Gregory said how much he really wanted them, Jeremy was sure Michael would give in eventually.

“It’s going to be hot.” Michael warned, carrying the pot of spaghetti to the table.

Henry quickly placed a potholder beneath it, and Michael went back to retrieve the sauce for the spaghetti. “Do you want to get cups out, Evan?”

Evan nodded and got up from his spot. “Gregory, you can get the plates.”

The whole group cycled around the kitchen like a little family, and Jeremy felt a little self-conscious about his place in everything, so he went and grabbed forks for everyone. It was the least he could do.

Michael dished out the food, putting just enough sauce on their spaghetti that they could avoid it if they wanted to. All of them were a little skeptical of the meal, but they all trusted that Michael knew what he was doing. Gregory and Evan both seemed startled by the taste, but Henry simply raised an eyebrow as he took a bite. Michael didn’t seem particularly concerned about their reaction, though.

He was too busy observing Jeremy when he tried it.

It was… spicier than he expected. Jeremy glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious of him. Michael blinked at him, casually taking a bite of his own spaghetti. Jeremy glanced at him again before moving his plate to the saucepan full of spaghetti sauce and adding more to his plate.

Michael’s slow smile made Jeremy feel even more confident about his decision. Somehow, Michael had figured him out yet again, almost without effort. Jeremy stuck another forkful in his mouth and smiled back at him.

“Gregory, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Evan said.

“It’f, fine.” Gregory swallowed hard.

“Careful you don’t choke,” Henry said warningly.

Gregory set his fork down quietly, his eyes watering. He coughed a little bit, causing Michael to turn to him with concern. “Gregory? Are you alright?”

Gregory fanned himself, and Jeremy immediately figured out what was going on. “Too spicy for you? You barely had any!” He shook his head and poured Gregory a glass of milk. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Gregory eagerly took the glass, draining it in less than a minute. “Mmmmm.”

The rest of the meal went in relative silence, with Evan and Henry occasionally teasing Gregory for eating too fast and being unable to handle spicy food. Michael seemed oblivious to the main conversation, smiling softly to himself.

Jeremy knew he was staring, but he figured it wouldn’t be the biggest deal. Plenty of people stared at their friends, right? At the way they twisted spaghetti noodles onto their forks and brought their forks to their mouths. At the way their eyes glowed with joy at making something new successfully.

Michael caught his eye, and the smile widened. Jeremy felt himself smiling back easily. He’d already finished his food, and Evan and Gregory had finished half the spaghetti by themselves. There wouldn’t be many leftovers anyway.

Henry was the first to move from the table. He collected plates from everyone to take to the sink. When Michael moved to help, Henry waved him off, insisting that since Michael made the meal, he shouldn’t have to clean it up, with a meaningful look toward Evan and Gregory. He stopped Jeremy when he tried to get up too, insisting that guests shouldn’t need to help.

“But I thought we were guests,” Gregory grumbled when Evan tapped his arm to help him get up.

“Jeremy, that bandage really does need to be changed before you go,” Henry said quietly, gathering the leftovers into different containers.

“I can help him with it,” Michael said.

“Michael, you’ve done enough today. Especially with how you were feeling this morning-“

“I can help,” Michael interjected stubbornly.

Jeremy raised a confused eyebrow at the way Michael’s wings and hair ruffled.

“You need rest,” Henry said in a tone that brokered no argument.

Still, Michael persisted, the feathers now completely refusing to lay flat. Jeremy wondered how this could possibly be something he’d need to be so defensive about. “Hey, maybe Henry’s right. You have done a lot today.”

Michael scowled at that, and he grabbed Jeremy’s arm and practically dragged him out of his chair.

“What- Hey!” Jeremy stumbled into Micheal, expecting him to apologize or something.

“There’s the old Mike,” Evan mumbled quietly.

Michael’s face was right in front of Jeremy’s as he spoke. “I know my limits.”

“Do you?” Gregory challenged. He didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, which was very different from the atmosphere surrounding Michael at that moment. “To me it seems like you keep going until you drop. Maybe you should just get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let someone else handle it for once!”

“Like you did?” Michael snapped, and at that, Gregory actually flinched. “Sometimes, you can’t trust that help will come, Gregory. You should know that better than anyone.”

Gregory’s grip on the plate in his hands tightened. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a family who took care of me like you do! So just suck it up.” Jeremy heard tears behind those words, and Evan mumbled something gently to him and tried to get him to turn his back on Michael.

That seemed to break something in Michael’s resilience. His wings twitched, and he let go of Jeremy’s shirt. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded just as torn as Gregory. “I…”

Jeremy figured nothing would be helped by Michael sticking around in the kitchen, so he tentatively put a hand to Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, you can help with my bandage. Maybe just tell me how to put it on so I do it right tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“So you aren’t staying then?” Henry asked, looking worriedly between the four boys.

Michael’s ashen expression was not particularly reassuring. “No, I mean. If it’s okay for me to stay, I plan to. I just… Maybe it should be my responsibility to fix that?” Jeremy gestured at the scratch on his face. “Seems like all I’m doing here is making more messes anyway. Might as well try to clean one up myself, right?”

Henry frowned but he said nothing.

Jeremy leaned close to Michael’s ear. “Come on then.”

“I didn’t mean to… I hurt his feelings,” Michael mumbled as he mechanically peeled the rest of the bandage away from Jeremy’s face to wipe at the scratch with a wet cloth.

“Energy was running high. Maybe you are a bit more overwhelmed then you thought? Frayed nerves break way for anger sometimes. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I still shouldn’t have done that.” Michael couldn’t even look Jeremy in the eye. He was too distraught.

“Why did you get so defensive, if you don’t mind me asking? And I’m not just talking about Gregory. You were adamant about helping me with my bandage.”

“I just…” Michael hesitated. “I haven’t had a chance to see you in days, and I wanted to get every moment I could?”

“An afternoon together wasn’t enough?” Jeremy teased, even though he knew exactly how Michael was feeling. “Look, that’s okay, Mike. But you gotta take care of yourself too.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do you want? I know you think you have to help everybody all the time, but you’ve gotta have desires too, right?”

“Maybe I don’t deserve to have my desires realized,” Michael replied. He still wasn’t looking at Jeremy. “Maybe I’m just a rotten person who doesn’t deserve joy or anything that doesn’t directly benefit anybody else.”

“Michael Afton.” Jeremy said, trying to sound stern. “You are a human being just like everyone else. We all make mistakes. And you sound like you’re trying to atone for yours. I don’t know about you, but someone who tries to learn from their mistakes sounds like someone who deserves to have what they want every now and again.”

Michael completely froze at that. When he met Jeremy’s eyes, he looked utterly shattered. “I…” He swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s okay, Mike. No one is asking you to do everything-“

“No, you don’t understand.” His voice was hardly a whisper. “I’ve… That scolding… You’ve said that to me before.”

“I have?”

Michael nodded mutely. “It was right before…” His wings stretched their full length as Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t.”

“What can’t you do, Michael?” Jeremy asked softly.

A pained noise rumbled in Michael’s throat, and he dropped the cloth, yanking Jeremy forward by his shirt. Their mouths crashed together, and all Jeremy could think was finally. His own hands went behind Michael’s shoulders, and he gently guided the wings back into a folded position before stroking them gently.

He didn’t want to stop kissing Michael. It was freeing and exhilarating at the same time. Michael tasted like bubble gum and smelled like clean laundry. He was the weirdest man Jeremy had ever met, but maybe that was what made him so alluring. Or maybe it was something else. Something about all this just seemed so… right.

When Michael broke away, Jeremy tried to follow. Michael looked at him fondly and laughed. “I thought you said I needed to take care of myself.”

“I can’t be that addicting,” Jeremy said impulsively.

Michael snorted. “I need air, Jeremy. We were both going to pass out if we kept that up.”

“Can we do it again?” Jeremy didn’t care about air. He just wanted to be close to Michael, wanted to make him smile, wanted to make him laugh.

Michael laughed again, a brilliant sound, before Jeremy pressed their lips back together. It was completely perfect.

[cinematicnomad]

cinematicnomad's steddie fic recs

i've been reading a lot of stranger things steddie fics over the past 2 months so i've decided it's time for me to make one of my requisite fic reclists, both for myself, and for anyone else interested. here's my usual reminder that i prefer lengthy fics, and that i am also a sucker for canon divergent fics (which basically all of these are bc eddie is alive post s4 obviously unless it's a time loop fic—if i tag a fic as "canon divergent eddie lives", assume this means the fic is compliant through the end of s4 except for eddie's death) and happy endings. all these fics are complete, though it's possible that if the fic is part of a series the series may not be complete. i will try to always add appropriate tags!

T = teen M = mature Ex = explicit NR = not rated

bracing for impact by writersagainstwritersblock (1/1 | 9k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; wayne POV; steve has bad parents; outsider POV

wayne watches as eddie falls hopelessly in love, with of all people, goddamn steve harrington.

it's not a big deal by aidaronan (1/1 | 11k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; mutual pining; angst w/ a happy ending

eddie survives, but his entire life is locked away in the upside down forever (his books, his dnd stuff, his guitar.) everything that wasn't on eddie when steve carried him into the ER, gone. so naturally steve starts giving him things. handing eddie back those little outward markers of who he is.

you oughta know by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (1/1 | 12k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; future fic; angst w/ a happy ending

days stretch out, long and slow. steve tries to ignore the only thing he’s sure of: eddie ran. he ran from him, ran from all of them. or: steve's having a rough couple of years, thanks for asking. compliant fic: i'm brave, but i'm chicken shit (1/1 | 13k+ | M) eddie POV; eddie centric; 1990s; recreational drug use

introduced me to my mind by alchemystique (2/2 | 16k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; mutual pining; getting together; happy ending

"eddie," wayne says, and eddie fights the urge to scream, or laugh, or cry. "i'm not running," eddie tells him, even though that is a fucking lie. "you should call him more," wayne says, and eddie rubs the meat of his palm into his eyeballs until he sees stars. doesn’t think about what 'call him more' means in context—do they talk about him? series: sweet leaf (4/4 | 16k+ | T) outsider POVs; rockstar!eddie; period typical homophobia

steve harrington's guide to making it work by eggbertsheggbert (8/8 | 23k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; steve is kicked out; angst w/ a happy ending

steve harrington has never been good at asking for help. especially not since he started being seen as the protector of the group. so, when his parents kick him out after discovering his sexuality, he figures he can get extra shifts, save up, and get a place before anyone realizes anything is wrong. join steve as he takes on the weight of the world. he's got it figured out, he's definitely NOT struggling, and—above all else—he can make this work.

the power of love by lacerta26 (8/8 | 27k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POVs; series; post-canon; coming out

jim gets mostly to the end of the house and then someone speaks. "i came out here for a smoke," eddie, his voice low, hushed. "yeah, but this is much more fun," steve now, almost laughing but not quite. * jim had only stepped out for a cigarette when he learns something new about steve and eddie and if this was one of the boys bringing home a girl, he’d have the exact stern words to make sure they were being a gentleman but his usual shovel talk isn't quite going to cut it because he has to let them know it's fine, more than fine, for them to be who they are, here. 

hands where i can see them by SolarMorrigan / @solarmorrigan (12/12 | 29k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; established relationship; emotional hurt/comfort

eddie thinks that he and steve have a good thing going; being friends with benefits is honestly a pretty sweet deal. steve is a great friend, the sex is great, everything is great. except for the fact that steve hadn't realized they were only friends with benefits. except for the fact that steve thought they were in a relationship. except for the fact that eddie doesn't realize how much he'd valued that relationship until it's gone (and he's trying his damnedest to get it back).

it's alright if you love me by alivingfire (7/7 | 31k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; outsider POV; character study; 5+1; steve-centric; hurt/comfort

"oh, haven't you heard? steve harrington doesn't cry." in which steve harrington breaks up, breaks a few hearts (including his own), breaks free, and finally gets to break down. or: 5 times steve didn't cry, and 1 time he did.

off the beaten path by pukner (6/6 | 34k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; alternating POV; queer awakenings; cliffhanger ending (must read sequels)*

"i'm saying this," says steve, loudly, cutting him off, "because someone i love is, uh, gay. and i love them, but like, platonically. and also me calling you a queer might've been a little hypocritical, in retrospect." there is a long, baffled pause. "what," says jonathan, "steve, are you—are you coming out to me?" steve frowns, "oh, yeah, i guess i am. cool." or, post season 3, steve manages to figure out that he's bisexual, despite his best efforts to repress it, comes out to robin and jonathan byers of all people, and figures himself out. also, there's a cute guy who might be actually insane running the kids' dnd club and he's got his eye on him. and his bandana. too bad eddie munson hasn't had a similar revelation. he's still under the impression that he's a straight man obsessing over steve harrington for normal, extremely heterosexual reasons. OR: steve figures out he's bi before eddie figures out that he's gay. eddie still manages to fall first. series: *off-script (2/2 | 67k+ | Ex) eddie POV; internalized homophobia; mutual pining

a tattoo is worth a thousand words by writersagainstwritersblock (18/18 | 40k+ | M) canon divergent post s3; eddie POV; babysitter steve harrington; getting together

"ambidextrous, princess, it’s what makes me so good with my hands." eddie wiggled his fingers. "you mean for guitar?" steve asked, completely missing the innuendo, and also nearly knocking eddie flat at the thought that steve harrington knew he played guitar. "you stalking me or something?" eddie asked. steve frowned. "uh, no, but your band played in the middle school talent show, it's pretty hard to forget a thirteen year old screaming death metal before his voice dropped." eddie almost laughed at that. almost. "you saying i'm unforgettable, princess?" "if that’s how you want to take it, munson." eddie realized this was turning towards something far more dangerous than taunting a boy known for getting into fights, like flirting with a very, very straight boy known for getting into fights. OR after the events of season three steve shows up on eddie's doorstep asking for a tattoo... and then keeps showing up much to the dismay of eddie's traitorous heart. sequel: visible ink (12/12 | 57k+ | M) outsider POVs; firefighter!steve; tattoo artist!eddie; found family

the one in which a time loop is fucking exhausting. by badpancake (12/12 | 41k+ | T) canon compliant; time loop; steve POV; temporary character death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending

it’s the first time in a while that he doesn’t know what comes next. he’s dove into the water hundreds of times. screamed as his flesh was torn apart, heard master of puppets in the distance and held back tears. felt max’s cold, small hand in his as she laid in the hospital bed. there are things that always happen, no matter how hard he tries: el doesn’t arrive in time. eddie dies. max is put in a coma. steve fails. they lose. "steve, how many loops have you been through?" his head is nodding, and his eyes are watery, and eddie has approached him like a spooked animal. "i lost count.” AKA: the one where steve harrington is stuck in a time loop, and eddie munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck volume 2, these bitches are in love.

steve the reluctant by rachtay13 (7/7 | 46k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; oblivious steve; steve plays dnd

robin raised her brows.  "you know what, harrington?" she nodded her head. "yeah, you know what? i dare you to make a friend. i dare you." read for steve in denial, excessive d&d gameplay, robin as a mermaid, and eddie's glinting rings. as one reader said "the most frustratingly dense version of steve i have ever read and i am HERE for it."

you're so fucked up and i love it by genericfanatic (18/18 | 54k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; accidental relationship; hurt/comfort

eddie munson hated steve harrington. he'd apparently saved his life, dragged him out of hell and got him to a hospital while nancy rushed behind him working on alibis and half truths to prove he couldn’t have murdered chrissy. and here he was, doomed to live for the foreseeable future, in debt forever to steve fucking harrington. but eddie really hated how normal steve fucking was.

where do we go from here? (quietly fading away) by allandmore (9/9 | 60k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; non-graphic violence

"what's scarier than saving the world? figuring out what to do afterwards. i get it," eddie turns on his side, one shoulder on the wall, and grips the front of steve's shirt. His face is so close steve can feel the warmth of his breath. "but we've got time now. right, steve? we bought us all time. time to figure all our shit out. isn’t that what matters?" OR steve harrington struggles to find purpose after the upside down. (but maybe purpose doesn't have to be big. maybe it's helping dustin navigate sophomore year. maybe it's reminding robin to send in college admission letters. maybe it's eddie munson. maybe).

star of the masquerade by glorious_spoon (6/6 | 64k+ | M) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending

steve jerks awake, sitting up so quickly that robin almost topples over and staring wildly around the room. when his gaze lands on eddie, he blanches visibly. "oh, shit," he mutters. "come on, no. come on. not again." "harrington?" eddie asks slowly. he does not love the way that steve is staring at him right now. he really doesn’t. steve looks like he’s staring at a ghost, a bloodied monster, like eddie is something that should not exist in the light of day. "you good, dude?"

one size fits all by entanglednow (10/10 | 65k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; fake/pretend relationship; misunderstandings; slow burn

steve just wanted to do something nice for a friend, he doesn't mean to get eddie's ring stuck on his finger, and it's definitely not his fault that everyone he knows is jumping to conclusions.

renegades (leave a light on) by queerofthedagger (13/13 | 66k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; eddie POV; road trip; slow burn; strangers to lovers

eddie doesn't expect to get into trouble for his recent drug business, although he probably should have. even less does he expect steve harrington of all people to save his sorry ass with a nail bat that looks awfully at home in his hands. least of all, though, does he expect harrington to insist on skipping town for a while to avoid the fallout. the winter holidays of '84 seem intent on proving him wrong on all fronts. thrown into a spontaneous road trip-slash-cut-and-run to san francisco—just until things back home blow over, munson—eddie has all the time in the world to confront such questions as: why would harrington care to help him? why does he wake up from nightmares more often than not? and, maybe most importantly, why is the former king so ready to leave hawkins behind on a whim? or: idiot boys make impulsive idiot decisions, and along the way—reluctantly but inevitably—they fall in love. a story of endless winter streets, finding family, and leaving home to find a new one.

falling without caution (people watching) by super_skam310 (10/10 | 66k+ | NR) canon divergent eddie lives; eddie POV; slow burn; eventual happy ending

steve harrington is a man that demands your attention; whether your give it willingly or not is inconsequential. eddie's camp tended to be in the latter category. OR eddie's borderline obsessive watching of steve spanning from steve's freshman year to season 4, culminating in the unfortunate realization that the king had been dethroned the moment nail bat hit monster flesh and that maybe steve harrington was lovable all along.

in the margins by foxy_mulder (4/4 | 70k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; angst w/ a happy ending; suicidal thoughts; hurt/comfort

steve is having a hard time adjusting to the new normal, after everything that went down. he doesn't want to bother his friends with his problems, though, when they've got so much weight on their shoulders already. steve stumbles on an alternate version of hawkins, where none of it ever happened. everyone’s alive, his headaches are gone, his friends actually want to hang out with him, and he’s…happy. (the party has to fight another monster. but this one doesn't prey on people's fears. it preys on their deepest desires.)

skull rock era by chattrekisses (11/11 | 71k+ | Ex) canon divergent s2; steve POV; slow burn; internalized homophobia; fix-it

steve harrington never planned for eddie munson. steve was supposed to marry his high school sweetheart, have 2.5 children, and take over the family business. he was supposed to live a blissful life on a nondescript cul-de-sac, complete with a white picket fence and a closet full of tasteful polo shirts. he was supposed to make a graceful transition between being the golden boy and being the american dream. mediocrity was what destiny had designed for steve. reality had other plans. (or, steve and eddie, against all odds, fall in love.)

roll for seduction by spikeisthebigbad (37/37 | 74k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; steve plays dnd; fix-it

when steve reluctantly agreed to play dungeons and dragons with the hellfire club he expected to hate every second. he did not expect to spend his friday nights flirting with eddie munson. what if eddie and steve were dating during season 4? starts after season 3, and eventually ventures into season 4. not canon compliant.

in over my head by staymagical (16/16 | 75k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; temporary amnesia

one moment, steve is entering his room, ready for bed, and the next he's in forest hills staring at a very confused very concerned eddie and the run-down remains of the old munson trailer. three hours later. thus begins a secret shared between friends, steve leaning on eddie as they try and understand and navigate this new terrifying post-concussion symptom of steve's. with vecna dead and the gates closed, it can only be steve's own scrambled brain giving up on reality. it's a race against the unknown, trying to find answers and search for solutions before it happens again and steve isn't sure how long he can keep pretending he is alright when he is anything but.

leave the light on sometimes all night by anniebibananie (7/7 | 78k+ | M) au—no upside down; steve POV; hurt/comfort; slow burn; eventual smut

june 1986 steve is lonely. he’s always been lonely, honestly. an empty house, absent parents, friends that didn’t really know him. frankly, he probably doesn’t really know himself, either. it used to be easier to ignore—between sports and parties and searching for the next girl to hang around with. then nancy wheeler told him he was bullshit. in the wreckage of the storm, he realized she probably hadn’t been that off base to call his life bullshit. [life in hawkins, indiana is boring, ordinary, no supernatural entities. steve still changes. luckily, he still makes some new friends, too. certain people are simply meant to be in the same story.]

the lathe by palmviolet (13/13 | 82k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; fix-it; angst w/ a happy ending; implied self-harm

"this time, do it right. this time eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. this time, steve will do it right." — or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable. sequel: disaster / lucky (1/1 | 7k+ | M) coda; eddie POV; implied/referenced self-harm; trauma recovery

it's got what it takes by rose235b (20/20 | 83k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; friends to lovers; slow burn

“i can walk you to your car if you need to go though.” eddie’s hand stopped moving. robin’s eyes snapped towards steve as if it wasn’t a nice thing to offer. “i’ll just maybe grab the vest so i can leave it for tomorrow.” he was undeterred though. if he could help eddie munson after the worst period of his life by literally just walking, steve would walk across the entire state of indiana. eddie looked back at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to search for something on steve’s face. “okay.” it came out softer than steve was used to eddie being. steve's on his never ending quest to make up for past mistakes. eddie's post-vecna mess of a life seems like the perfect place to start. - or, two idiots fall in love very slowly to the tune of 80s music.

(something happens and i'm) head over heels by gibbouslunation (11/11 | 94k+ | T) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; head trauma; angst w/ a happy ending

eddie made a strangled disbelieving noise, expression flickering. "you are not apologizing to me right now, for like, feeling a normal way about stuff. i can’t believe you." steve pushed a shaking hand through his hair. his heart rate no longer in his ears meant he felt he could at least think a little more clearly. "maybe it was the heat. doesn’t always have to be something messed up, right?" eddie gave him a placating nod. "sure, heat exhaustion is a helluva thing." it had been happening a lot recently. the…forgetting. zonking out. whatever. he was pretty sure he was just extra exhausted, it had been a few weeks since everything but it might have just been the adrenaline or something finally wearing off. sometimes it was like he just forgot someone was speaking, or couldn’t remember for a moment what they’d been talking about. like blinking out of a fog maybe. it does not get better, in fact, it actually continues to get worse.

water closet by stillmadaboutpetra (7/7 | 103k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; found family; slow burn; character study

steve's heard that a lot of life changing conversations usually happen in the kitchen or on the porch, but in his experience, it's the bathroom. a series of bathroom conversations (plus a whole lot of everything else) that slowly change steve, and his little world, in the wake of surviving vecna.

burned on the pyre by oklahoma (13/13 | 105k+ | Ex) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary character death; angst w/ a happy ending

"i’m gonna save your life, eddie munson." - caught in a time loop created by eleven where he is forced to relive the same day over and over, steve has to come up with a plan to kill vecna entirely while also making sure eddie and max don’t lose their lives in the process.

the beat has just begun by forgetthemoon (12/12 | 106k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; period-typical homophobia; fix it; slow burn

vecna dies. so does eddie. the world doesn't split open. in the aftermath, steve goes home to an empty house. well. almost empty. steve sighs, hanging his head. one more thing. then he can go to bed. the dirty towel can wait until later. he tosses it towards the bathtub without looking and turns to the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. when he looks in the mirror, eddie's staring back at him.

lonely is the night by intrajanelle (23/23 | 109k+ | T) canon divergent post s2; canon rewrite; eddie POV; hurt steve; angst w/ a happy ending

harrington had fallen, splayed in front of his preppy little beemer, like the jock equivalent of a fallen fucking angel. eddie, not having thought this through, watched harrington’s eyes roll to the back of his head, and said, "well, crap." or: post-season 2, eddie and steve get to know one another.

i can give you a heartbeat by soupbitchin (14/14 | 113k+ | T) canon compliant; eddie POV; ghost!eddie; happy ending; fix-it

being dead isn’t like eddie thought it would be. for starters, he’s a lot more alive than he expected. or, the ghost of eddie munson’s still hanging around, and he’d really appreciate if someone could notice him, thanks.

the end is here (and we do it a hundred times over) by placebythering (13/13 | 125k+ | M) canon compliant; steve POV; time loop; temporary death; suicide; angst w/ a happy ending

steve jolts awake, staring up into the dull beige of the camper’s ceiling. there’s a distinct brown stain, likely from a leak. the cushion of the back seat is hard against his back, and if he strains he could hear yelling and laughing from the outside. he wonders if he’s finally lost his fucking mind. —or, steve relives the day of the end over and over again.

caught in the middle, helpless again by margosfairyeye (14/14 | 131k+ | Ex) canon compliant; eddie POV; time loop; angst w/ a happy ending; canon-typical violence

fuck, eddie has been here before. the deja vu was bad enough but this is like, double, this is like deja deja vu or deja vu vu or something, this is unprecedented shit here. and eddie knows what comes next, knows like the roiling ache in his stomach that they’re going to go in, go though the portal and into the upside fucking down and didn’t they already do this? -- -- eddie loops through the time from lover's lake to his death, over and over again.

blood, love, and rhetoric by sourpastels / @lesbiansidney (18/18 | 143k+ | M) canon compliant; alternating POV; eddie lives; canon typical violence; accidental roommates

eddie believes three core things about the art of performance. 1. all the world's a stage. 2. performance is both a weapon and a shield, he wields it as both. and 3. you can’t act death. to quote stoppard: “it’s not gasps and blood and falling about—that isn’t what makes it death. it’s just a man failing to reappear, that’s all…” and eddie had gasped and bled and fell about, and was foolish enough in that moment to believe that was death. but he forgot a crucial step: he reappeared. or: steve is taking it day by day, flitting between the high school and the hospital and hopper’s cabin, locking any thoughts of eddie munson away at the back of his mind. meanwhile, eddie is just trying to get out of the upside down, with nothing but a nail-shield and the world's worst company.

sleight of hand by smithereen (19/19 | 143k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; alternating POV; internalized homophobia; slow burn

steve needs a weed dealer. he gets a bit more than that. (this is an AU set a couple months after the snow ball in season 2.)

take the money and run by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (22/22 |143k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; road trip; getting together; future fic

"rules. like, there’ll be no eating in my car. you're not driving my car. no heavy metal," steve keeps listing, "you’re not picking up women and fucking them in m—" "i'll try to control myself," eddie interrupts with a quip, a smirk. fucking girls in steve’s car, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t going to be an issue, unless something pretty fundamental shifts in him. steve continues, completely ignoring eddie, "you’ll wipe your feet. you're not dragging dirt all over my car. no hitchhikers. no cutesy road games. no smoking in the car. i'm not paying for all the gas." "ass, gas or grass, got it," eddie says, like he's taking this very seriously. he is not taking this seriously. or: road trip!

if your heart surrenders by asbealthgn (39/39 | 163k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; slow burn; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending

“that one’s on the house, okay?” eddie says, and steve opens his eyes to look back down at him. on his face is the slightest hint of concern, and something else steve can’t place. he’s still holding his hand. "thank you," steve says. he’s not sure exactly which thing he’s thanking eddie for, the weed or the hand in his or the lack of judgment at his fucked up head. he just knows that he’s grateful. eddie gives him a smile, a gentle curve of those pretty lips. "anytime, harrington."

tuesday's gone with the wind by thisapplepielife / @thisapplepielife (9/9 | 184k+ | Ex) alternate universe – no upside down; eddie POV; rock band; drug use; plane crash

corroded coffin's leased plane went down on june 13th, 1995 in the woods of louisiana. ten people on board died. eddie munson survived. before he survived, he really lived. companion series: wildflowers...and all the rest (15/15 | 151k+ | Ex) gareth POV; original female character; one shots; growing old; slice of life

gossip by jcmadgirl (11/11 | 213k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; pre-canon; sexual assault; angst w/ a happy ending

steve's whole life story, told through multiple snapshots of the events that made him into the person that he is today. or, a rewriting of stranger things from steve's POV.

i never did believe in miracles (but i've a feeling it's time to try) by cuoredimuschio (26/26 | 215k+ | M) canon divergent eddie lives; multiple POV; slow burn; mutual pining; getting together

eddie is beginning to think that, somewhere in the helter-skelter of surviving the upside down, being swarmed by possibly rabid but definitely rancid demobats, and charbroiling vecna’s slimy ass, he accidentally tripped through the wrong gate and landed in an alternate dimension. well, a different alternate dimension than the one he was already in. because steve harrington is flirting with him.

vignettes of lost connections by hardlyhalcyon (halcyonfrost) (50/50 | 229k+ | Ex) canon divergent pre-s1; alternating POV; secret relationship; angst w/ a happy ending

steve harrington and eddie munson had met long before dustin henderson dragged steve down to reefer rick's cabin. hawkins wasn't a huge town, and there was only the one high school, but the two were never friends. didn't even like each other. in all their darkest moments however, they somehow found company together. or the one where steve has depression, eddie becomes his safe space, and when eddie encounters battles he can't fight, steve reminds eddie of his own strength. a pre-/peri-/post-s4 fic with steddie before s4 events, continuing through and after.

as the world falls down by daeneryske (36/36 | 245k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; steve POV; bad harrington parents; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending

after saving eddie from the upside down, steve hides him at his house while the party concocts a plot to clear eddie's name. what steve doesn't expect is how much he likes hanging out with eddie as they get to know each other. under the looming shadow of the mind flayer threatening to destroy hawkins, steve and eddie realize they're each grappling with their own darkness, from steve's father's impossible expectations to eddie's feelings of worthlessness. their friendship develops into something more even as the party prepares to fight Vecna and his monsters one last time. steve must decide if he's ready to shrug off the rigid roles assigned to him and become his own person. eddie must learn to embrace what steve has been trying to show him every day since nearly dying: that he's worth saving.

nothing else matters by bigskyandthecoldgun (31/31 | 279k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s2; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical attitudes; everybody lives

"you ask a lot of questions about me," steve tells him. "because you're interesting," munson says, quiet and honest. "you're a lot different than what i've heard." steve hums, eyes closed. "yeah," he says, eyes fluttering open when munson takes the joint from him again, "you are, too." or: steve ditches the prom to get high.

since you've gone (i've been lost without a trace) by steddieeddie (7/7 | 300k+ | M) canon divergent s4; multiple POV; comatose steve; grief; angst w/ a happy ending

may 31st 1986, two weeks until graduation. robin, eddie, and nancy are all set to walk across the stage, eddie being given a free pass after the whole ‘almost framed for murder’ thing. the three have been trying to be excited about their graduation, but it feels almost mundane to be excited when steve wouldn’t be there. they would be sat out on a football field in the blistering heat while waiting for their names to be called, with dustin and max in the crowd, cheering them on in steve's place. there would be fake smiles plastered to all their faces, no matter how realistic they tried to make them. none of them have genuinely smiled since steve got vecna'd. sixty-five days. steve had been in a coma for sixty-five days. the doctors keep telling the party that it doesn't look good, that steve's injures had been severe, and that they didn't know if, when, he would wake up. but they refused to lose hope. he'll wake up. it's just a matter of time. OR five times steve harrington didn't wake up, and one time he did.

the most dangerous thing (is to love you) by brokebeatle (21/21 | 304k+ | Ex) canon divergent eddie lives; alternating POV; shared trauma; slow burn; period typical homophobia  

"i know you care about what those little twerps think of you, and i can assure you they think way too highly of you," eddie says with a wink, and steve gives a half-hearted smirk for just a moment. "but look…i know i can’t ask you to stop worrying about those kids, so how about this? you worry about them, and you let me—actually let me—worry about you." steve pushes his hair back, and yet again, gravity instantly pulls it back down, since he’s looking at his feet. "…i don’t need anyone to worry about me." "too fucking bad. someone’s gotta do it, and it’s gonna be me." "why?" steve replies with a raspy laugh, shaking his head slowly. "why? why." eddie crosses his arms tightly across his chest, knocking his foot into steve’s again with a bit more strength. "because we’re friends, dipshit." —in which eddie's got a reason he's been planning on leaving hawkins since long before the world almost ended. the only thing keeping him in town at this point? his promise to be friends with steve harrington. and eddie doesn't break promises.

the man that i could be by ohstars (26/26 | 325k+ | Ex) canon divergent post s3; steve POV; secret relationship; period typical homophobia; angst w/ a happy ending

"steve harrington isn't straight. it's been a few weeks since he sat on that bathroom floor at starcourt with robin, where she shared her biggest secret with him and unintentionally unlocked an entirely new side of steve. since he’s had to come to terms with being open to exploring that side of him, but he's finally acknowledged that he's most likely, definitely, without a doubt into guys." -- after coming to terms that he may be queer, steve harrington does a little exploration on his own and meets the one and only eddie munson. just as things are going well and accepted the fact he's falling for eddie in their own little bubble, steve's world is shaken by a tragedy he can't quite talk about. and when the dust settles and he's nearly ready to put the pieces back together, his worlds collide when he realizes his eddie is the same eddie playing D&D with the kids. the same eddie who's now wanted for murder thanks to another upside down monster. how will he save the day when he can barely focus watching his ex mingle with his monster fighting team? series: the men we've become (4/4 | 45k+ | M) future fics; alternating POVs; domestic living

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hi! Can you make TkDb characters (anyone you like) x Witch! Reader fanfic? So like, how they found out and how they react with that, or you can add something that you see fit! (⁠人⁠⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Hi Anon! I hope you don't mind but I changed this to headcanons so I could write a bit about everyone. If you'd like fanfics about anyone in particular, please let me know! I also had to break this one up into a few different posts separating the characters into their houses but I'll link them all here. I hope you like the headcanons!

Witches and Ghouls - Frostheim Edition

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Jin Kamurai, Thoma Ishibashi, Lucas Errant, Kaito Fuji x gn! Reader

Frostheim | Vagastrom | Jabberwock | Sinostra | Hotarubi | Obscuary | Mortkranken

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You're a witch! And even though the characters have made deals with demons themselves, they might have some surprising reactions.

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Jin doesn’t put much stock in gossip but it is certainly good for bringing his awareness to possibly true information. So when he heard that you might be a witch, he put in some extra investigation.

And boy was he surprised to find out that this particular rumour was true! He just wasn’t expecting you to actually be a witch.

Honestly, he’s going to be a bit cold around you for a bit, especially if you’ve been together for a while. He sees you keeping this from him as a breach of trust.

Eventually, he will realise that you were keeping it from him for good reason. Once he does this, he’ll accept your witchiness wholeheartedly. He cares about you regardless of whether you’re a witch or not.

Thoma’s pretty observant so it probably wouldn’t take him long to figure out that there’s something different about you.

When he finds out you’re a witch, he’s not super shocked. He had his suspicions after all. Now that he knows for sure, all the little things that happen around you make a lot more sense.

Unlike Jin, Thoma knows why you would hide your witchiness. Until you want to tell people, he’ll happily keep your secret.

He’s also great at helping you cover up any slip ups. Oh the door that’s been stuck for years suddenly opened when you tried it? Must have loosened up since the last person tried it.

I think Lucas wouldn’t find out unless you tell him. He’s quite observant with a lot of things but when it comes to you, he can have a bit of a blind spot.

He’s not going to react well initially. Much like Jin, he sees it as a betrayal of his trust, especially if you have any ways of helping with his investigation into demons.

But he’ll come around quickly and be very apologetic about how he reacted. It’s your business after all, he’s just glad you’re willing to forgive him.

He’ll do his best to make it up to you as well but helping out with any witchy stuff he can. Need ingredients? He’s on it? Got a migraine from pondering the orb? He’ll give you a head rub.

Yeah, Kaito’s going to find out super fast. Surprising everyone, he’ll probably figure it out faster than any of the other ghouls. He’s too focused on you not to notice.

It’s definitely going to freak him out to start with. He’s pacing around in his room torn between staying away from the spooky witch and hanging out with his very attractive partner.

Eventually, the latter wins and he’s back to normal and he’ll be apologetic about his actions. He’s already lucky you like being around him, he doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardise that.

You’ve also got a really good bargaining chip if he ever steps out of line. Just remind him of your witchy powers and he’ll very quickly stop whatever he’s doing.

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[spearxwind]

I love the map you made for broken horizon! I've always wanted to make maps for my own worldbuildling, but Ive never figured out how. Did you draw that by hand, or use some kind of map generator, or some other option? im excited to see what else you have in store :)

Thank you!! And I'm flattered people think its done using a generator but its all done by hand!!

Also, I only recently figured out how to make maps that look decent myself recently so I want to share the techniques that helped me because it made making maps sooo fun fr. So here's kind of a walkthrough?

First off I blocked out the rough shapes of the continents, settled on what kind of biomes more or less would be in the different areas

If you want inspiration, or if you need help placing biomes, THIS SITE is super helpful for this stuff!! It can generate landmasses for you, and give you some misc biome info as well. I drew the continents on it and set parameters to get the types of biomes I liked and used it as an inspiration.

After the first block in, you just have to work hard un-refining the edges, and making them rough. Looking at real maps or at google earth helps for reference :] follow ur heart!!

Here's a screenshot of somewhere with less refined borders, this was me going over all the edges with a rough texture brush and making it look more natural. It just takes a lot of work to go in and refine stuff bit by bit but personally I find it really cathartic -w-

I did all of mine in black over white so I could see the silhouette of the coast easily

If you have any textured brushes that have rly rough edges, this is the time to use them, just make sure you aren't using any transparency!

Something that I found helped me a lot, if you are using a program like clip studio paint (the one I used) is use the edge feature. Maybe if you don't have csp you will have a similar feature on it? What it does is it creates an edge of the color of your choosing around everything on that layer. (This layer setting also negates any transparency that I mentioned earlier)

If you look here you can see it around the whole coast:

Here is how it looks like without the edge:

it's a lot different isnt it? This is up to personal preference but I think the edge helps a lot with the vibe of the map being hand drawn.

If you look close you can see that all of the edges are very jagged and pixelled, I think this helps a lot with realism as well since coasts are usually jagged (and they needed to be especially so for my headworld)

After doing this you just need to color in the biomes (or not! you can always do an old timey map and just write cities and stuff on there)

What's most important is that you go Out There and make maps and have fun!!! If you make any feel free to tag me in them 👍 I hope this helps!

[aquaquadrant]

Title: poor language

Warnings: Shipping (Ethubs, past Impdubs, kissing), session 4 spoilers, references to past seasons

~*~

“You know, Impulse came with me to kill the dragon.”

Bdubs says it casually as he slides off his horse. They’ve officially ended the session, but a few players are still hanging around, catching up on the session’s chaotic events before heading back to their respective worlds. So naturally, he had to stop by Etho’s place to gloat some more about his legendary accomplishment.

Etho, doing some last minute work on his chicken farm, doesn’t look over at Bdubs’s arrival. “Oh, yeah?”

(‘You know, our old thing- if things come down to it, we don’t betray each other.’)

“Yeah.” Bdubs ties his horse to one of the fence posts of Etho’s sheep pen. “Yes, he did, he- it was me, him, and Pearl first before those other- those sneak- snipers, freaking kill-stealers came in after, of course. But Impulse, he- you know, he couldn’t actually kill anything this session so he was just helpin’ out, shooting th- the uh… end crystals… moral support…”

Etho nods, his back still turned to Bdubs. “Good, good.”

“Yes…” Bdubs clears his throat. He puts as much admiration into his voice as humanly possible. “He did amazing.”

(‘Guess what? Impulse and I are in love.’)

“I’m sure he did,” Etho replies, his tone perfectly, infuriatingly neutral.

Irritation flickers through Bdubs. He pauses for a second, working his jaw. “Eeugh- you know it was my task, right?” he presses. “I ha- my hard task, most impossible task in’a world, kill the ender dragon in the life series…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Finally, Etho climbs out of the chicken hole, dusting his hands off. “I- I kinda figured, ‘cause you know, you were pushing real hard for it…”

“Uh huh.” Scowling, Bdubs puts his hands on his hips. “Well- thanks a lot, then, for the help!”

(‘You could’ve went for me, and you chose not to.’)

Etho’s grinning behind his mask. “What, you expect me to fight a dragon just to help you out?” he asks teasingly.

(‘You clearly don’t know how Etho works.’)

Bdubs’s voice dies in his throat. He swallows, glancing alway. “No,” he lies. “No, I don’t…”

“Gotta play smart in these games, you know?” Etho puts his hands in his pockets, walking over. “Going to the end, uh, it just doesn’t make logical sense. Like, especially if it’s not even my task.”

(‘Etho, I feel like if this whole thing falls apart, alliances and stuff- it’ll still be you and me. We’ll still stick together.’)

“Right,” Bdubs murmurs sullenly. He folds his arms. “Right, right, right, of course.”

Etho comes to a stop in front of him. “So like, why else would I go?”

“Why else, right…” Bdubs echoes. His chest feels tight all of a sudden.

(‘He’s a survivor, that’s all he does.’)

Etho sighs. “What- what’re you doing, Bdubs? Why are you here?”

Bdubs’s heart jolts. “Uh- jeeze, can’t I just stop by to chat?” he demands, throwing his arms up. “Goodness sakes!”

Etho tilts his head. “Well yeah, sure, but you’re always here,” he points out. “Like, since day one you’ve just been finding reasons to come over here…”

(‘Where’s your boyfriend, Bdubs?’)

Bdubs feels his face heat up. “Oh, would you- maybe I come over to see Cleo, did- did you think of that?”

“Cleo’s not here right now,” Etho says evenly.

“Ah hah…” Bdubs rubs the back of his neck. “Well, that’s- yes, yes, okay, you’re right. So what?”

“So, if you wanna be around me so bad, why didn’t you team with me at the start?” Etho asks, taking a step forward. “Why’d you go join up with the Mounders?”

(‘The first thing I wanted to do was… well, yes, of course! Of course, team up with you, yes.’)

“Uh…” Bdubs takes a step back. “I mean, I didn’t- things happen, you know, organically, and- and I didn’t really… I had to build a- a house, upside-down house, other people started buildin’ around me while you- you ran off into the middle’a nowhere!”

(‘Etho has no loyalty to you. He’s just immediately teamed up with the next guy that’s come along.’)

“I think we both know why.” Etho starts walking forward again, forcing Bdubs to take equivalent steps back. “We’ve known each other a long time, Bdubs. We’ve got other worlds outside of these games, where we can spend time together without all the uh, the manipulation and deception and killing.”

Bdubs’s back suddenly hits a tree- he has nowhere else to go. His heartbeat pounds in his ears. “Uh, yeah? And…?”

Etho shrugs, looming over Bdubs. “But that’s just part of the game. So like, we can make all the promises we want, but uh, we both know that sometimes… things don’t end well. So maybe it’s better to keep our distance this time. That way it’ll hurt less, when it happens, and we won’t ruin what we have outside of the game.”

(‘I have a strong feeling we’re not gonna be friends at the end of this.’)

“So that’s it?” Bdubs challenges, indignation rising inside him. “Just- just avoid me, so you don’t feel bad if you turn ‘round and stab me in the back, huh?”

(‘You know I would never kill you, Bdubs.’)

Etho’s eyes flash. “You wanna know why I didn’t go to the end for you, Bdubs?” He leans in. “Cause I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“Oh, is that a fact?” Bdubs breathes incredulously, staring back up at Etho. “You know what I think? I think you’re just scared. Not of the dragon, sure enough, but of what it’d mean t’go fight it for me.”

(‘I gave him the courage! He was scared.’)

Etho’s expression betrays nothing. “You think so, huh?”

“Yeah!” Bdubs puffs out his chest, a fierce grin spreading across his face. “Impulse didn’t care, as a matter of fact he was happy to do it!”

(‘Now, is this a happy marriage?’)

“Yeah?” Etho’s voice is dangerously soft, almost playful. “Then why aren’t you at his base right now?”

Bdubs deflates again. He should’ve known better than to try and make Etho feel threatened by his history with Impulse. They both know their connection goes deeper than that, than a single season of bound hearts and souls.

(‘Um… I want Etho.’)

“Okay, okay,” he says sheepishly, face burning, “you got me. In fact, I think Impulse- he was already planning on goin’ before I was, not even to help me out specifically.” He shakes his head. “Sheesh! I was just- is it too much to ask for a- a little attention?”

(‘Why can’t you be normal about Etho?’)

Etho hums noncommittally. He braces a forearm against the tree above Bdubs’s head, leaning in so their faces are mere inches apart. “You’ve got my attention now.”

Despite the tension, Bdubs huffs a laugh. “So much for- for keepin’ your distance, huh?” he jokes, reaching a hand up to tug Etho’s mask down.

This time, he can see Etho smile. “Well, we’re not technically playing the game right now. Session’s over.”

“Good point,” Bdubs chuckles, tilting his head up to meet Etho’s lips.

He knows this doesn’t come easy to Etho. He doesn’t have the same boldness as Bdubs when it comes to love, doesn’t throw his entire self into it with reckless abandon. He’s more cautious than that- always has been. He shelters his heart behind his aloof nature, his uninvested ‘easy-going’ attitude, and he wraps his words up in clever metaphors and the guise of amusement- lest anything he say be taken seriously as a weapon to wound him. So words aren’t always enough to convey what he really feels.

But they don’t need words for this.

Bdubs is well-versed in the dialect of Etho’s hands, the way they grip his waist to pull him closer. He’s memorized the divots that Etho’s scar has left in his lips, the way it feels against his own. He knows the slant of Etho’s jaw beneath his fingertips, the way his head tilts and shoulders bow to accommodate their difference in height. Every movement, every touch, every breath between them is part of their own unspoken language, communicating everything Etho’s left unsaid in his own unique way- and Bdubs remembers why he never should’ve doubted.

(‘He loves me. He cares. He does.’)

~*~

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AMITA for lying to everyone I know about my identity’s as a queer/neurodivergent person?

I (18M) am a bisexual, transgender man who is also autistic, ADHD, and OCD. When people hear this about me, even if they know me, I feel like they build up this image of me as an awkward, “cringy” 11 year old who’s obsessed with “cringy” fandoms. And while i have a qualm with this because I know they are looking down on people who are just less masked/higher support needs, I also dislike that they do this because it’s just not who I am. Without the labels, I mostly seem like just a normal dude, if not a bit nerdy.

I also used to be extremely bullied as a kid (7-12) to the point of a suicide attempt, mostly due to homophobic, transphobic, or ablest remarks about me. Since then I’ve completely changed community’s and do not talk to anyone i knew before high school.

When authority figures (Teachers, Show Directors, Investors of the teen programs I lead) apply ablest/transphobic stereotypes or prejudices to me, they also tend to be less,,, normal? around me. Less kind compared to other kids, call me an “inspiration”, or they’ll coddle me when I’m incredibly capable. I do a lot for someone my age- and I know the connections I make now at conferences and whatnot will help me in the long run. My dad’s family is poor, and my immediate family is more comfortable but not that much. I know I’m smart, and I can weaponize that to get a better life for my family by getting good scholarships and jobs in good fields. I can’t just let people who could be very important to my goals look down on me. So i just.. don’t tell them anything about me. They might assume Im odd or “not normal”, and for the most part I let them assume whatever, but if i’m ever asked directly about anything I deny it. Especially in relation to me being transgender; I have the very privileged ability to pass without any medical intervention, and I use that to pretend to be cisgender. Living in the deep south of USAmerica, most of who I am could make my social life very uncomfortable to downright miserable.

Here’s where the problem starts happening. when my social and (what i consider to be a) “professional” life occasionally touch, I wouldn’t be able to be out everywhere socially without someone I don’t want knowing finding out. So i don’t tell any of my classmates/friends/peers about any of my identities either. I hang out with queer and straight people, never be actively homophobic/ablest, and will be very vague about the two questions i’ve ever received about any of that stuff. It’s very, very exhausting to pretend all the time, every day, especially pretending that I’m cisgender because it’s a tricky game, but I can’t really back down and I’m afraid that I might get bullied again if I was ever open about it with classmates.

A few months ago, I was dating this guy, who i’ll call Kai (17M) Kai is also a transgender man, but does not pass at all and is comfortable with it. He’ll get shit sometimes, but also has essentially no straight friends. I told him I was queer when we became good friends, and then told him I was trans after we started dating. I also told him why I lie about being cishet or neurotypical, and while he didn’t seem happy he didn’t push it at first. I told him that I understood if he didn’t want to be in a secret relationship, but because of where we live and what I want to do I wasn’t comfortable with being out again. He said he still wanted to date me, and claimed he would support me, and we had a pretty good relationship overall.

A month after that, he started bringing it up again. He told me that I was more than my identity, and if people didn’t see me for who I am instead of stereotypes, it isn’t worth talking to them at all. And while I agree with the sentiment, it’d never be possible to just not hear someone if they were harassing me, and while I truely dislike a lot of the authority figures that I engage with, they are in the professional fields I’m interested in, and I’m incredibly lucky for getting where I am so early. Kai also said that since I am well known in our very small school (only 300 kids), being out could be a positive influence on what people think about autistic people or trans people. In a particularly heated fight, he even said I was doing a disservice or betrayal to my community by not representing or being proud of being apart of them publicly.

We broke up pretty soon after, but I think about what he said a lot. I know that I wouldn’t be the only out person at my school, and that my school is actually a lot better compared to most local schools, which are a lot larger and… dramatic, but I just don’t think I could be out without going back to how I used to be mentally. And Kai was right about how I could be a good influence on some of the meaner classmates- I do think some of my peers who I ingenuinely connect with might reconsider their prejudices if they knew I was transgender.

I’m intentionally choosing not to take the opportunity to do better. It wouldn’t ruin ALL my relationships with the authority figures I consider to be important holding, since it would just be my school, It might dampen one or two of them. Plus, I’m lying to pretty much everyone who knows me. They build relationships with a false idea of me, and I feel like an asshole sometimes because I’m not honest.

TLDR: I’m a transgender, autistic guy in a very bigoted community. Everybody thinks i’m cishet and neurotypical. AMITA for not being proud of who I am because of potential social losses, and AMITA for lying to people and giving friends/peers false ideas about who I am even if they would not be friends with me if they knew?

What are these acronyms?

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi hi, gendery sex question here.

Me and my partner are afab, and basically despite her efforts, sex hasnt felt like much for me. But I love being the giving partner, and for a while now have thought Id enjoy sex with her if I had a penis. Imagining that sensation instead is exciting. I consider myself nonbinary. Im mostly wondering if your expert opinion thinks my low success at feeling much actual physical pleasure might be caused by feeling alienated from my body in this maybe dysphoric way. Or is there's another reason I should consider why sex with my partner doesnt work great for me. Masturbation goes a little better and I can actually finish, but not great and only upside down and without looking at my body. Generally high drive with low success has been leaving me frustrated. Do I need to think about phalloplasty?? That's kind of A Lot especially since Ive never considered myself transmasc per se.

Also thanks. Your posts and attitude mean a lot to me as someone who had to figure out a lot of shit on my own as a kid and subsequently became the defacto Sex Knower for a lot of friends to go to with questions. Ive seen how much this stuff helps people feel less broken. You're doing amazing. 💚

hi anon,

I certainly can't put a name on your gender identity for you, but what I can tell you is that it's VERY common for people with some kind of dysphoria to feel alienated or distant from sex because the highly intimate nature of sex and the very gendered assumptions still tied to many people's genitalia. many people who have transitioned in some way find that sex becomes MUCH for fun and comfortable afterwards, regardless of whether they have surgery or hormone replacement therapy - sometimes, just being out and perceived differently by partners can be enough.

if you haven't already, it may be helpful to try sex with a strap on. it's much less permanent and expensive than phalloplasty, and can give you a sense of whether you like the sensation of having sex that way. if you enjoy that, you may also want to try out a packer to see whether or not you enjoy the sensation of having a penis outside of a sexual context. no need to commit hard to anything right away; you have all the room in the world to experiment.

I'd also add, gently, that wanting a penis doesn't have to make you transmasculine if that's not how you want to understand it. if we believe that genitals are not gendered, then wanting or having a penis doesn't have to say anything about you except that you want a dick. parts is just parts.

[spacedace]

I know it was a prompt and u said you werent gonna do anything with it (and you so should) but i love ur two posts on the Queen of Clones Elle/Amnesiac Champion Kon AU (especially Kon's knight design (like ghost tattoos?!?!? so so cool) and Elle's relationship with him). Got anymore headcanons about this au? Who are the other clones you envisioned playing the background characters? Do Kon and Tim actually cuddle in the Only One Bed scenario? Does Elle get a cool princess/queen design(s) since Kon gets a knight one? Does Tim walk into Kon's knight practice and have a "oh no he's hot" moment? Just afagshjdksll this au is so cool please tell me all about it

The thing is, whenever I say "I'm going to put X idea here for someone else to grab since I'm never going to do anything with it" I'm lying. I'm a liar. It's still lives in my brain and is taking over all rational thought. I have at least 85% of a story written in my head when I say that, I just know that I'm never going to sit down and actually write it down lol

I have SO MANY thoughts about this AU, you have no idea what you've done asking me about it haha

(and seriously if anything at all in my ramblings here is of interest to anyone have at it, everything I post should always be considered free game to use as a writing prompt haha)

Like, between Elle getting snatched by the GIW & Kon ending up in custody with the Justice League for a bit, a lot of the clones that weren't involved in the rescue(s) who are out in the wider multiverse come pouring in to check on them and there's this huge impromptu "Congrats on Escaping a Government Agency" party for the two of them.

There are so many clones just everywhere, Tim is overwhelmed by them all (and hasn't actually realized that the whole deal of the place is that everyone there is a clone yet). But he's dealing. He's sticking close to Kon (because he's never letting Kon leave his sight again, especially since he's half convinced that Elle kidnapped & brainwashed Kon into being her loyal servant for evil purposes) and getting introduced to the most diverse group of entities he's ever seen before (humans aren't the only ones who get into cloning).

And then there's an excited whoop as some kid comes flying out of a portal and launches himself at Kon, talking a thousand miles a second, just so happy Kon is back and okay and the boy is so chipper and happy and sweet that it takes Tim a second to realize holy shit is that Damian????

The kid is the Heretic, aged down and growing up again with a fresh slate after getting sent to Elle's Haunt post however he disappeared/died in DC canon (I'm a bit fuzzy on those details). Of course that information takes a bit for Tim to figure out, becuase the kid has no memories at all of being the Heretic or of Damian or Talia or Bruce or fighting his way out of a whale fully grown. As far as he's concerned he's Antonio, Paulina Sanchez' adopted son, and like sure he's somebody's clone but that really doesn't matter to him, he only comes to Elle's haunt to hang out and tag along behind Kon because he thinks Kon is the coolest. (Kon is explaining this to Tim as a bright, cheerful, normal kid version of Damian is sitting on his shoulders. Tim is losing his god damn mind).

And the Only One Bed Thing!! Okay, so like, Kon is Elle's Champion and basically her unofficial Heir. When Elle isn't around he's in charge of her Haunt and looking after all the other clones. And even when she is there he just goes full Big Brother mode on everyone. It doesn't matter if the clones that end up in the Haunt are actually older than him, he's their big brother now.

To that end, clones end up coming to Kon all the time in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because of nightmares and stuff. And Kon is the cuddliest motherfucker. He's all about platonic cuddles to help people sleep. Just about every clone that's ever spent any time at Elle's haunt has ended up curled up in a blanket fort in Kon's room getting cuddled into feeling safe and cared for.

So for Kon? Only One Bed is no issue at all.

Oh all the clones coming over for the party has taken up all the rooms and Elle is "too weak from recovering" for her Haunt to make more? Of course Red Robin can stay in his room! His bed is so comfy and there's more than enough room for both of them (and like, sure, he's kinda panicking a little because he's never cuddled with anyone he's sorta had a tiny bit of a crush on, but he cab be cool! Besides, its hard to fully commit to the crush one Red Robin when Mystery Boy is out there somewhere, oh maybe he can ask Red Robin about him! He seems to know so much about Kon he'll know who Kon is in love with back in his old life!)

Tim, on the other hand, is just fully:

Over the prospect of having to keep his shit together while sleeping in the same bed as Kon (who sleeps without a shirt, jesus fucking christ, Kon has tattoos now since when did that happen??? why is he somehow more attractive than when he disappeared??? oh god Tim is going to have a fucking heart attack) especially after Kon drops the bomb that the only thing he can remember from before is some guy that Kon was apparently totally in love with??? Like Tim is being thrown wildly between being a Bi Disaster to being totally devistated and back again.

He mostly manages to keep himself together, at least until it's actually time for bed and it turns out that Kon is a cuddler when he sleeps (Kon did warn him! "just shove me off if I end up trying to use you as a pillow it won't wake me up" he said, and Tim thought "well it can't be that bad" he was so fucking wrong) and Tim ends up wrapped up in a cocoon of muscled and tattooed Kryptonian arms with his face smushed into Kon's chest and Kon nuzzling into Tim's hair in his sleep and it's the most comfortable Tim's ever been in his life and Kon purrs in his sleep like how is that even fair??? (I love the Kyrptonian's purr headcanon so much it has to be in here lol)

By the end of the first week Tim's has slept more and better than he has in years. He's genuinely forgotten what it's like to have a normal sleep schedule. Even with all his panicking, Kon sleepily curling up around him and hugging him like a teddy bear just knocks him out. It's insane.

And Elle! I have so many thoughts about Elle in this AU!

I mentioned it in one of my other posts on this AU that Elle gives off Vibes based off her various Epitaphs that she's gained, and I think that she'd kinda push that to the max when it came to Tim for awhile when Kon first shows up with him.

Like, she takes one look at Tim and is like "ah, this is Mystery Boy my amnesiac bestie has been on about forever" while also realizing that Kon has no idea that he's just panic-kidnapped the one person he sorta remembers from his old life. Which is the oppurtunity of so much fun matchmaking chaos. And she loves Kon, she's planning on officially making him her Heir so that he becomes Prince of Clones as well as her Champion, she wants him to be happy.

But also she's protective over him, more even than a lot of the other clones that end up in her Haunt. Kon doesn't remember his old life and he was so badly injured when he ended up in Elle's haunt that Frostbite hadn't been sure he would survive. Add in the fact that Red Robin was clearly with the people that had captured Kon while he and the other clones were getting her out of the GIW facility (and that the Justice League is sort of a government agency in it's own right) and Elle isn't totally sold on Tim.

She goes out of her way to give off extra creepy vibes while around him. Making sure he understands that she's more than strong enough to destroy him if he even thinks about hurting Kon. At least in the early days of Tim being in her haunt. She does, eventually, lighten up - especially when Kon gives her the big eyes and asks her to trust him, that he knows that Red Robin is someone he believes is good and that won't ever hurt him. She's still keeps a close eye on Tim, but does chill out a little after that.

And she does have a Queen Form (and a princess form when she's doing her Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms thing). She has a couple different forms/designs depending on which Epitaph she's invoking (and of course a fun vaguely eldritch shadow form that scares the shit out of Tim haha).

Her Clone Queen design is BIG, not quite massive Eldritch Ghost King Danny big, but definitely big. Like 20-30 feet tall big, so she can pick up and carry/hold all her clone children like little babies (if any clones are from a race/species that's bigger than that her size adjusts so she's always big enough to carry them).

She has a crown made out of mirror shards that float around and move so that it's always changing shape (I've been feeling clones being called "Mirrorborn" in the Infinite Realms since there's kind of a naming convention already with "unborn" and clones could be seen as kind of like reflections in a way. Elle's official title is actually "Queen of the Mirrorborn" though sometimes is called "Mother of Mirrors" that's why Kon's sheild reflects things, since Elle made it for him out of a piece of her crown while naming him her Champion) and wears a dress that also looks like it's covered in mirrors. It's actually very soft and comfortable and it's super common for clones to climb around or curl up in her skirts and sleep in there.

Her dress does turn into armor though if she needs to fight. And while in Clone Queen mode it's actually super easy for her to duplicate herself a bunch of times.

Knight Training!

Once Elle chills out on Tim a little and is fully onboard the matchmaking train with the rest of the clones (all while absolutely none of them tell Kon that Red Robin is obviously his Mystery Boy) she has Fright Knight show up more often to train Kon specifically for the purpose of Tim walking in on shirtless Tim expertly going through sword forms and sparring with various other clones. And of course Tim and Kon have to have a sparring scene, where Tim is so distracted by Kon being so fucking attractive he ends up pinned against a wall with the flat of a sword under his chin and Kon giving him a cheeky wink and then it's on and there's a whole dramatic flirty fight scene as they make their way through half of Elle's Haunt while sword fighting.

Also! Since Elle's entire court is actually there for once, a bunch of different monarchs around the Infinite Realms decide to host a tournament, so Kon gets to do official knight stuff in his best armor. And Tim gets place of honor right next to Elle during all the jousting and fighting stuff so he gets the best view of Kon kicking ass.

Tim (still wearing his mask because even if he's pretty sure that no one here is evil or would use his secret identity against him - or even care that he has one) has been all dressed up in some gorgeous clothes fit for his status as "Companion" to a Queen's Champion/future Heir. Just something absolutely insanely georgous in the colors of his Red Robin suit, with a dramatic but entirely functionless cape and Kon's crest (not Elle's but Kon's) embroidered on it and it's Kon's turn to blue screen at seeing Tim for the first time all dressed up.

And Tim is maybe finally putting together from talking with Kon that he might be Mystery Boy that Kon remembers from before and that Kon is in love with. So just before Kon is going out to joust, Tim - taking Elle's advice that he should give Kon a favor before the tournament for good luck - and wanting it to be more meaningful than just a handkerchief or something, takes his mask of and gives it to Kon as his favor.

And Kon just loses his god damn mind because Mystery Boy and Red Robin are the same person and all he wants to do is kiss Tim stupid but Fright Knight Master of Chivalry is like "nope you gotta win this tournament and bring honor to your beloved and do this whole ridiculous song and dance about it, no kissing, get out there and smash some heads together - and keep your helmet on this time!" and just yeets a disgruntled Kon out into the field before he can do anything.

And of course with all this extra incentive - Fright is serious about that whole "prove your love through combat" thing he's not going to be allowed to even kiss Tim's hand unless he wins and is perfectly chivalous while doing it - Kon wins the Tournament and is given the flower crown he's supposed to give to the most beautiful of all the observers and of course he gives it to Tim and he doesn't care if there's a forty step courting process he's supposed to follow Fright, he's fucking kissing Tim and there's nothing you can do about it!

Literally seconds away from them finally kissing is when the Justice League kick down the door to get Tim back.

The ghosts aren't even the ones that wrecks the Justice League's shit for interuppting, it's just Tim screaming at them about being cock blocks for forty minutes while Kon screams into the void in the background.

(Kon does get his memories back eventually, and he and Tim do finally get that kiss and start dating. But at that point Kon has been named Elle's heir so Fright Knight is even more rediculous about Correct Courting Steps than before because Kon is a Prince now. Elle is just relieved that it turns out that the Justice League nuked the GIW while they were looking for Tim, because they were not okay with them or the Anti-Ecto Laws. Kon is mortified at having what is effectively his adoptive mother constantly popping in to dote on him while in the middle of fights, Elle is having a great time.)

[hanhonymous]

The Trainee’s workplace authenticity

One of my favorite things about workplace TV shows is when the characters actually do work. AND when the details of such work are not only relatively accurate, but also essential to how the characters relate to themselves, the world and each other. So far, "The Trainee" is giving that to me in the first two episodes.

Having interned/been an assistant at a TV production company and later moving to entertainment journalism and managing interns/junior writers there, I can appreciate both Ryan's and Jane's POVs. Here's what I liked so far:

Good Pick's pink tube slide and movie theater seats in the lobby - A lot of these entertainment-adjacent companies take a cue from Silicon Valley and have this frivolous, frat-boy design aesthetic -- bean bag chairs, foosball tables, etc. I worked in an office that had a ping-pong table. The idea is to make it fun enough that people want to stay in the office and work longer, which isn't really all that great. You stop seeing that fun stuff after a while and just want to get home. That said, I'd love to work in a company with a fire pole in it, but that would be too much of a liability.

Ryan's fluke hiring - Baimon totally hearing what he wants to hear from Ryan in that sham interview is hilarious but sadly not all that unusual. What sucks is that this is unfair to the manager who then must work with the unqualified person, and unfair to that person hired also, who isn't the best fit for the position. I've been the person saddled by the unfortunate hire and have had to make do … and sometimes you can figure it out, but often you're left doing extra work to make up for their deficits. If it's just an intern, no problem -- they'll be gone in a few months. I felt Jane's pain!

Ryan's uncertainty & silence - That said, Ryan clearly wants to do well but is out of his depth since this was not even what he was learning in school. I remember the first day as a journalist for a small company where I kind of was on my own, and nobody told me what to do. I was like, "WTF??" Part of you doesn't want to ask questions lest you expose your imposter identity, but you're also wondering just how long you can do nothing before someone notices.

The printer always breaks down -- always. You get pretty good at troubleshooting everything until resorting to calling a technician

Jane's prickly demeanor - The fact is that in any company, people who are competent can move up, but that doesn't automatically infuse them with good managerial skills. I think workshops, etc. are a must for anyone who gets promoted and suddenly have people reporting to them. Everyone can get frustrated when they're overwhelmed, so I do have some sympathy for Jane. He does have one skill that I think is essential to be a good manager: identifying and acknowledging the strengths of an employee. It really makes all the difference that he finally sees Ryan as an asset, not a hindrance.

Ryan's skills aren't that bad at all - As soon as Ryan tells his family that he's no help to anyone at work, he immediately shows five different ways how much he's relied on by his family. Yes, people who are competent, reliable and can anticipate needs (like how his sister needs to be reminded to charge the battery after using the camera) will be able to apply those skills to other situations and can go far. Ryan just needs to familiarize himself with the industry first in order to know how he can fill in the gaps. (I believe in being able to change careers and taking big pivots in life.)

The interns banding together - OMG I remember sometimes just being unsupervised while trying to get a project together, and there is a strange bond you have being the youngest and least experienced. And you do have the most stupid conversations.

Being one cog in a bigger machine - I really appreciate how they show all the different departments that have to come together to make one project work -- especially when last-minute changes need to be implemented or a persnickety client has opinions. You complain, you worry, you put in extra late hours and have to make 11th-hour fixes -- but it's so satisfying to see it all come together. Shit goes down, and you fix it.

Hiring extras - The hiring of extras at Good Pick was different from what I've experienced. I actually have been an extra, and what I'm used to is being part of a company or agency that has you in their database, and then you get picked or cast by that company and sent to your gig. But that's in Hollywood and for TV shows & movies. It's probably different for ad houses or in Thailand, but I did like how they showed that it is still a casting process. There are deliberate decisions made, and certain looks sought out. I thought it was hilarious that Ryan's first thought for hiring the salaryman was to get an uncle from the same restaurant as the auntie. If he had his way, everyone in that restaurant would be hired for some gig or another.

Ryan getting scammed by the extra - I was screaming at Ryan as soon as he offered to pay that scammer extra. Just … no, boy. You had to have known that was shady. BUT despite being duped, he was willing to think on his feet and try to solve a problem by being proactive, and that does happen. And so do mistakes. He just needs to calibrate his radar for what is OK. (I'm glad Jane saw that.) Ryan is lucky that it only cost him 1,000 baht for that lesson.

Extras must be on hand and wait - OK this is a scene in the preview for Episode 3, but I was so happy to see it: Extras in Hollywood actually cannot just spend 5 minutes or whatever to do their job, even if that's how much you see them onscreen. There's a ton of hurry up and wait on film sets, and so extras have to stay in Holding -- usually just a designated area with some chairs (sometimes you get tables) -- until you're needed. And production schedules never run on time, so it can be hours or even days. You're lucky if you're there long enough to get a meal, if the temperature is nice, if you're able to make friends with the others and if there's wifi. Sometimes you bring your own clothes for wardrobe based on what you're told, and sometimes the wardrobe department supplements your wardrobe with extra pieces to help complete a specific look. And yeah, you're not able to leave except for the bathroom, so Ryan definitely shouldn't have let that one extra wander off.

"Ryan After Work" - I like these post-credit sequences that give extra insights into the job. And while the first one was more instructional, explaining how the production house differed from an agency, the second was more about the cohort camaraderie (and hinting at Ryan's positive feelings toward Jane). I hope the romance aspect of the show doesn't overshadow the work specificity going forward!

[a-aexotic]

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader requested? yes no

warnings. mentions of weed, alcohol, fighting, normal obx stuff, ooc!rafe

summary. rafe cameron is your friend (and soon to be more than friend), so you decide to make him hang out with your friends and brother so they can warm up to each other.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

The lights of the party were blinding and noise was very loud, you could hear the music from a block away. This was how most Kooks on OBX spend their weekends; with their friends, drinking.

Y/N and Sarah had convinced the Pogues to come to this Kook party. Usually they'd prefer to spend their night at the Chateau or at the Wreck but tonight, Sarah wanted to switch it up.

She hadn't been to a Kook party since she'd gotten with John B and she missed it. Sure bonfire parties were fine but they weren't Kook parties, not even close.

Today was one of Sarah's old friend's birthday and it was on Figure 8. It was a lot of convincing from Sarah and Y/N but the Pogues finally accepted.

"God, it's so loud!" Pope had shouted to JJ and Y/N. It'd only been two hours and the Pogues had already gotten separated. Kie and Sarah had disappeared and they're pretty sure John B went back to the car.

"Yeah, but that's kind of the point!" Y/N replied, shouting. Her, JJ and Pope eventually got outside and JJ took a dramatic inhale of fresh air. You and Pope rolled your eyes.

"Oh my gosh, I thought I was going to suffocate in there."

"You're fine." You patted JJ's back. He sighed and nodded, "I need a drink."

"Yeah, same" Pope added. "But I don't wanna go back in there, it's going to take us like an hour with all the people."

"You guys are so dramatic." You rolled your eyes playfully. "I'll take one for the team cus I really need a drink too. I'll be right back."

You started walking back into the swarm of crowds in the house, navigating your way to the drinks. You suddenly bumped a hard chest and you looked up to see Rafe Cameron.

If it was any other Pogue, they'd just scowl and walk away. But you knew Rafe very well, though. Better than most Pogues, or even Kooks in that matter.

He smiled at the sight of you. "Y/N!" He shouted over the booming music.

"Hey, Rafe!"

He leaned down so he could hear you better. He couldn't hear you over the loud music. "You haven't texted me in a bit, I was afraid you'd found someone else."

He was your friend and your dealer. You'd hooked up a couple times but that didn't really affect either of you until Rafe accidentally admitted he had a crush on you while smoking with you. Ever since then, things have gotten more complicated with the both of you, especially with feelings.

"'Course not, Rafe. You're the best dealer on this island." You noted as he smiled down at you.

"Oh, you flatter me Y/N." He let out a small laugh. "Where are your little... friends? I saw Sarah and I just assumed the rest of your group was here."

You tensed up at the mention of the Pogues. Rafe and the Pogues don't have a good history and you knew if they found out where exact their weed comes from, they wouldn't be too happy. Especially your brother, John B.

Rafe had become a little more open to being friends with Pogues after you so he's thought about maybe being nicer to the Pogues... for you.

"They're outside, um. I'm just getting some drinks for them."

Rafe nodded. "I can, uh help if you want me to."

You weren't sure about how this would end but maybe this would be the start of a friendship between Rafe and the Pogues - or at least they could be civil with one another, you'd be fine with that.

You knew you couldn't date Rafe without the approval of the Pogues (especially John B) so this was a good start to introducing them to the idea. "Sure."

You and Rafe took the drinks outside and as soon as JJ saw Rafe, he went up to him with an angry expression. "What the hell are you doing, Cameron?"

"Nothin just helping Y/N with your drinks." Rafe said simply. JJ was close Rafe, almost nose to nose. Rafe was trying his best not to throw the drinks in his face and punch him.

"JJ." You said sternly. "He's just.. helping, okay?"

"Are you sure he didn't try and poison us?" Pope finally spoke up as he glared at Rafe.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, Pope. I saw him pour the drinks."

"Yes. And I'm going to drink with you guys, too." Rafe looked over at you for assurance and you nodded. That's what the two of you had agreed on.

JJ noticed the small interaction and he grabbed the drink from Rafe's hand and walked away towards the chair. Pope followed along as well.

"No one's thrown a punch yet, that's a good start." You mumbled to Rafe as he let out a small laugh. You followed them and had taken a seat directly in front of Pope and JJ.

You handed Pope his drink as JJ drank of his quietly, thinking. Awkward silence filled the group as you all drank from your cups, everyone studying the each other.

"This is good beer..." Rafe muttered as you nodded.

"Yeah, I'll have to ask Kelsey where she got it from." You responded as JJ groaned inwardly.

Pope and JJ exchanged a look. "Does John B know about your sudden friendship with Rafe?"

You glared at JJ. "That doesn't matter, I don't have to tell John B anything."

There was sudden silence as JJ looked behind you with a smirk, leaning back into his chair. You and Rafe turned around to see John B and Kie standing over you, scowls on their faces.

"Tell me what?" John B questioned as he looked directly at you, ignoring Rafe at the time being.

You cleared your throat. "That uh..." You paused to look over at Rafe. "I'm friends with Rafe."

"Friends?" Kie looked over at the proximity of both of you. You hadn't even noticed how close Rafe was to you; your legs were touching.

John B then look over at Rafe. "You're with friends with my sister?"

Rafe nodded.

"You're suddenly friends with my sister after publically hating on Pogues since, I don't even know." John B was starting to get angry. "Y/N, I don't know how you can't see it. It's obvious he wants something from you."

"Like what?" You countered, furrowing your eyebrows.

"I don't Y/N, what do you think?" John B exhaled angrily. "What is Rafe Cameron notorious for?"

"Weed?" You sighed. "Why would-"

"No, Y/N. He uses women, that's what." John B turned his head to Rafe, grimacing. You hadn't even thought of that. The idea hadn't crossed your mind because Rafe had never made an attempt to even touch you. It merely talking, nothing else.

Rafe was baffled at John B's accusation. "Me and Y/N are just friends."

"Oh, you want us to believe that shit?" JJ suddenly spoke up, pointing at your touching legs. Rafe instantly moved his leg.

Rafe got up and scoffed angrily. John B moved closer to Rafe and got in his face. "You ever talk to her again, I'll kill you, alright?"

He laughed bitterly at that. "Oh, like you stand a chance."

John B quickly pushed Rafe making him stumble. You scoffed at that, quickly going to Rafe's side. Kie went to John B, crossing her arms.

"John B, you can't just-"

He cut you off, "Yes I can, I'm your older brother-"

"Oh, you really gonna pull that card, John B? Seriously?!"

"Well, he is, Y/N." Pope chimed in.

"You all going to take John B's side?"

It was silent for a couple seconds and you scoffed at that, laughing bitterly. "Of course you all would. Do you even consider me a friend? Do you only see me as John B's irresponsible little sister?"

Rafe put his hand on your shoulder, making John B and JJ exchange looks. "I don't wanna cause problem between you and John B, alright? I'll just see you later."

Rafe had walked away before you could say anything. You were just left with the Pogues, the air thicker than it was before.

"God, you're never gonna let me be happy." You walked off as well, John B wanted to go after you but Kie put her hand on his shoulder.

"Give her time, alright?"

John B nodded at thar before taking a seat, sighing as he thought of what the hell he was going to do with you and Rafe Cameron.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 3

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Gif creds to @bestintheparsec

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.5K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Sorry this took so long. Work :( But I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think. :) Thanks for reading!

-Pedro's POV-

The warmth of the midday sun beamed through the window as Pedro glanced nervously at his watch. 12:55PM. Finally, he grabbed his laptop and lay down on his couch with a soft *flump*. He quickly typed in "The Jazz and AllyKat show" into the search engine and opened up the website for your interview, just in time for it to begin broadcasting live. He knew you wouldn't be visible, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't been waiting anxiously since they announced it two days ago.

He was interested in hearing more about you. Hearing your voice speaking instead of just singing. Hearing the passion and levels of expression you may portray. Do you have an accent? A high or low voice? A lisp or a stutter? A rasp? You were such a mystery to him and the world, yet your shared conversation over Instagram the other day was so heartfelt. He appreciated your candor and vulnerability, especially in show business.

He couldn't figure out why… but ever since he heard your song, he couldn't stop thinking about you. There was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He was impressed with your lyrics and swooned at your voice. That voice! But with everyone contemplating who you were and who you liked, Pedro didn't want to be another one of those people, making you feel pressured. But he was certainly curious. 

The video began and he listened intently, not wanting to miss a single word. When your voice chirped a hello to the interviewers and listeners, his heart skipped a beat. He swore it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He was drawn to you and wanted to learn anything he could, so he listened, trying to keep his breathing as silent as possible to not miss it. Why am I feeling like this? We've only had one conversation. Why am I so drawn to her, especially when she's already in love with someone?… he interrogated himself.

The interview discussed your favorite color, animals, and books, which Pedro vowed to read as soon as he could get to a bookstore. You listed off your favorite films and shows. However, although you had a great taste in cinema, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment that none of his roles were on your list. Clearly it's not you she loves, so you can put that out of your head now. He should feel relief, but instead he feels hollow at that realization.

When asked who your best friend is, you gush about your guy bff. You talk about how much you love him. How cute and sweet he is. Pedro can't help but feel a bit jealous of this guy who you love so much. But he listens on, his heart perking up and bubbling over when he hears you finally explain that your best friend is your dog.

Not only does she have a dog, but he's her best friend. And the way she talks about him is so…adorable, he thinks, gushing over your shared love of the fuzzy animals. He wonders what your dog's name and breed is, but you refuse to answer that question from the interviewers, for fear that someone may recognize his name and breed, tying him to you. The interviewers make a joke on your paranoia, which you ignore and Pedro scoffs at, their lack of understanding poking a protective instinct inside of him.

The conversation suddenly rolls into celebrity crushes and his chest tightens. But before they can ask you, he hears the air horn signaling the amount of viewers. Although he's disappointed to miss the potential answer you may have given, he also feels that strange protective feeling over you again, making him feel annoyed at the interviewers, knowing your desire for privacy. His thoughts only shift into a possessive manner for a millisecond before Ally proposes the possibility of your crush potentially listening to the show. His heart and emotions are on a bumpy roller coaster and he's practically jittery at the anticipation. He's leaning in to hear your answer when the door to his house barges open and a frustrated Oscar Isaac walks in, complaining in Spanish.

Startled, Pedro slams his laptop closed and flings it towards the coffee table, nearly spilling his drink. He yells questioningly, wondering why his best friend is barging into his home unannounced. Oscar is fully in the living room now, hands on his hips and ready to rant again. But before he has a chance to continue his argument with Pedro, he squints. His eyes look to the laptop, then to Pedro, now standing and looking frazzled after jolting up from the seat. He looks at Pedro's face again, eyebrow raised questioningly, and points to the laptop. "Were you watching porn?"

Pedro is dumbfounded, and if he wasn't on such high alert, he would've thought to lie and say he was watching porn. Instead he blurts "NO, I was not watching porn." It sounded like a lie. Oscar looks again from the laptop to Pedro, noticing his flushed cheeks and giving him a once over from head to toe, looking for any tells, other than the blush and the panic. "Yeah right, you slut. Let's see then."

Oscar reaches for the laptop, and Pedro grasps for it too, just a second behind. Too slow. Pedro argues "I wasn't. Not that it should matter, seeing as I'm in my own HOME… alone. Or should I say previously alone." Pedro throws his hands up in frustration. Oscar just laughs. "Okay let's see what you're so interested in then, that you don't even hear me knocking on your door or trying to contact you." He cracks open the computer.

"You're watching…an interview?" Oscar looks at Pedro, confused at why he would be so wigged out over a talk show. "I told you," Pedro replies, pointedly. Oscar glances back at the computer again, his brow suddenly relaxing and his lips turning into a mischievous smirk. "Ohh. I see… This is that girl you defended in your interview, huh? Someone got a little crush?" 

Pedro rolled his eyes and scoffed, trying to push away the warmth grazing his cheeks. "No. I don't have a crush. I was just looking for something to do and saw it pop up on my page…" Pedro rambled on, "plus it's just curious how much she's keeping a secret, you know? Everyone is wondering about these things." Oscar listened, amused, and Pedro continued. Please stop talking, Pedro thought to himself. "Plus I don't even know her. A crush? That's ridiculous."

"She doesn't know that guy in her song either and she managed a crush… and you defended it," Oscar said matter-of-factly. Pedro rolled his eyes, and Oscar continued. "Are you hoping her crush is on you?" 

Pedro sputtered out a quick answer. "Please. She sounds young... it's probably on someone like Harry Styles. Why would she have interest in an old man like me?" Oscar patted Pedro's shoulder. "You're too hard on yourself." Pedro ignored him and continued, "plus you know how I feel about relationships." 

"Yeah yeah…" Oscar continued in a mocking tone, hand pretending to be a sock puppet while he recited, "I don't have the time to properly grow a relationship, I don't want to get hurt, I'm focusing on my career…" Pedro ignored his mocking tone and simply agreed with the recitation. "Yes… now… Why did you feel the need to barge in here unexpectedly?"

"It wouldn't have been unexpected had you checked your messages. I texted you four times and even messaged your Instagram when I didn't get a reply," Oscar defended. 

"You know I'm not a texter," Pedro disputes.

"Yeah, no shit, abuelito. How many messages are unread on your phone? 600?" Oscar banters.

Pedro hastily defended himself. "No! I call them back! And abuelito!? Really?" He tuts. "You're not far behind me, pendejo. Plus you know I never check my Instagram messages either. I hardly even log on. You should've called me instead."

"I did. Twice. Anyway, I wanted to see if you were still available to watch the kids later. Buuuut, after not hearing back, I just decided to check on you. Glad to see you're alive, and clearly just distracted." Oscar wiggles his eyebrows.

Pedro crosses his arms, ignoring Oscar's last remark. "Yes, of course I'll watch the kids. Go enjoy yourselves!"

"Thanks P. You're the best… and I know I'm picking on you, but I just want you to be happy. I think if you like this girl you should try and talk to her. Dust off the cobwebs of your Instagram and actually message her or something."

I already have… Pedro thinks, running his thumb across his bottom lip. "Thanks, man."

Oscar left with a friendly pat on Pedro's shoulder. "See you later tonight then with the kids!"

Upon closing the door, Pedro sped over to his laptop again, hopeful that your interview hadn't ended yet. Fortunately for him, it was still recording. He hoped he hadn't missed anything.

The interviewer named Ally spoke. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Pedro's heart pounded so loud he feared he would miss your answer. If she says yes… his mind entertains, not knowing the answer to the rest of that thought.

You spoke, hesitantly, and he felt the protective urge creep over him again. He wanted to know the answer but he hated hearing you uncomfortable . "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

He swallowed hard, his breath catching in his throat.

The interviewers replied excitedly. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

There's a long pause. The silence is deafening, apart from the booming timpani of Pedro's heartbeat.

You answered, so softly he almost missed it. "Yes. We've talked."

He stopped breathing. 

"Did you tell him it was him? Did you admit you love him?"

"Absolutely not. It was just a nice conversation," you laughed.

We had a nice conversation…

"Will you tell us who he is? At least a description? An initial?" Jazzy asked, desperate for answers.

Ally chimed in "anything! We're starving here."

You giggled before answering. The most beautiful laugh he's ever heard. "I won't do that much, but I will say… he has brown curly hair... Gorgeous brown eyes… And he seems really funny and nice."

I have curly brown hair and brown eyes.. maybe it could be me, his heart offered the idea. I try my best to be funny and nice too.

It could also be Tom Holland. Or Dylan O'Brien. Or some other young actor, his self-doubt chimes in. But he also knew based on your eye color descriptor, that it wasn't Harry Styles, shutting down his earlier guess.

Ally lets out a huff. "That's a pretty broad answer but I guess it narrows out a few people.."

"Well we have another surprise. A way to narrow it down a little more…" Jazz proposes.

"Oh? What's that?" You replied. Pedro could hear the nervousness in your tone.

Jazz continued "I asked our tech to work his magic, and he managed to pull a list of our viewers during the highest number of people tuning in…"

Pedro's heart picked up speed.

"Then, since he's so good at working a computer, he was able to filter it further, running the names through the web and pulling out any celebrities. We have a list here and all you have to do is read through and say if he's on the list of viewers. The only ones who would know are the three of us. Of course if he's watching, he will also know if he's in the running or not."

You stuttered out, "o-okay.."

There was a long pause on your end while you read, and Jazz and Ally filled in the space with chatter.

Pedro sat, waiting nervously for your answer.

"Uhm… no. None of these names.." you finally answered.

His heart sank. It wasn't him. You didn't love him.

"That's disappointing," Ally answered. "I had really hoped he was listening. I'm sorry. I thought when we filtered through the viewers with our celebrity listener filter, we'd have some luck."

"It's okay.. he's probably busy or something.." you answered, though your disappointment was hard to hide. "Maybe he will listen later when he has time."

Pedro was logged in on his account. His name would've been on that list, and you just confirmed, without calling him out personally, that he wasn't the one you loved.

The interview soon ended and he closed his laptop with a sigh, flopping back onto his couch. He had hoped to message you and tell you he watched the video. But now he didn't see the point in it. You already knew he watched it, and you probably didn't care. He closed his eyes and eventually decided to try and ignore his feelings. You don't even know her. Don't be stupid. It's just a crush.. a stupid, hopeless crush..

Looking out the window, Pedro noticed the sun setting outside and glanced at the clock on his stove. Realizing Oscar would be back soon with the kids, he decided he needed to snap out of it. Put on a happy face before babysitting duty. He began straightening up the house and getting things ready before finally turning on a cartoon movie just in time for them to arrive. 

Oscar greeted him, and sat the kids in front of the movie. He knew his friend well enough to see through his smile and know he was upset about something. But he also could tell Pedro needed some space to sort things out in his mind first before he was ready to talk. So he left the kids with a profuse thank you, and headed out the door, leaving Pedro alone with his thoughts and two small bundles of energy.

Unbeknownst to Pedro, you looked through the list of celebrity viewers, scanning for his name. But thanks to his friend's intrusion, at the time that they filtered the list, he was disconnected from the live video. He wasn't on the list you saw.

Kept busy with the kids, it wasn't until they were back home with their parents that Pedro was forced to think about his feelings. Maybe he would still message you either way. You probably needed more friends and allies in this business, and he did enjoy talking to you, even if he wasn't the one you loved. If you didn't want to form a friendship with him back, that was fine too. But he would try. Still, his disappointment was settling in his heart. He didn't realize how much he was starting to care about you until you said he wasn't on that list.

So with the shared belief that neither of you cared about one another, you both went to bed, you both felt heavy in your hearts, and you both couldn't help but feel light tears spilling onto your cheeks as sleep eventually took over.

Equally unknown to you, he was watching, and he planned to watch it again when the video was posted, just to hear you talk a little bit longer. Just to learn more about you. Learn the tiny personality quirks he could pick out from your voice. Things that make you who you are, until maybe he could meet you in person. 

That's all for this chapter!! Thank you again for reading and let me know what you think.

Looking for the next chapter? Here!

Taglist: (Let me know if you want in!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson