#i miss my two intelligent detectives
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marsmaximoff ¡ 1 month ago
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🦑 hwang jun-ho; headcanons 〇△□
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content warning: gn!reader. fluff. mentions of death, coma and jealousy. pet names. no season 2 spoilers. let me know if i missed anything.
word count: 941
author’s note: well, my man is back, and i had to write some headcanons for him. the OBSESSION that i had back in 2021 needs to be studied, omg. anyway, as always, constructive criticism is welcomed, english is my third language, so i apologize for any mistakes. in case i don’t post anything else this year, happy 2025 everybody!! enjoy! 🩷
divider by @k1ssyoursister
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〇 pre-games
best. boyfriend. ever.
that’s it, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk
🙃🙃🙃
his love languages are:
1) quality time
he may be a police detective, but he ALWAYS tries to make time for you 
and see you every day, and if he can’t, he’ll save some minutes to call you
loves to hear about your day
big on communication, that’s key on your relationship 
type of boyfriend that picks you up after work, or anything really
he just wants to see your cute face :3
takes you out on cool dates
to the park, to eat, to cute animal cafĂŠs
he’s okay with staying in too, just cuddling, talking, watching something….
and 2) acts of service 
will drive you anywhere you need
you get ‘good morning/night’ texts every single day you’re not together
makes you breakfast 
and has no problem with cooking for you
opens doors for you 
pulls out the chair at the restaurant ☝🏻
he’ll simply do anything you need
loves coming home to you, it doesn't matter how shitty or overwhelming his day was, you just put a smile on his face
his favorite thing to do with you is eating
it may sound boring, but he loves to see you taking care of yourself, well-fed and happy
takes you to meet his family
his mom loves you
even his brother likes you
he’s a tease and enjoys seeing you all flustered
i feel like he’d be the type to have many pics of you on his phone that he goes back to whenever he misses you
you’re probably his wallpaper, perhaps even on his wallet too 🤭
some pet names like: “honey”, “love”, “beautiful”, “cutie”
would never cheat
a guard dog
not super jealous -a bit tho- but won't hesitate to step up if someone acts stupid 
(picture that one scene in season 2 when that man mocked him and didn’t believe he was an actual police detective hehe)
shows you off 🤩
checks you out :p
his hand is on you in some way when you’re out
has good emotional intelligence
big spoon
reminds you to take your make up off before bed if you wear any -he may even do it himself if you're too tired
or to take meds
he is just really caring and supportive
doesn't like seeing you worried or anxious because of his job
absolutely hates to see you suffer
doesn’t mind that you may be struggling financially, it won’t change what he feels
will help you with whatever it is
just don’t hide it, he hates secrets and lies
i hate doing it, but there always has to be some 🚩 
he’s the first one that would do it (lying and hiding stuff) to ensure you’re okay and don’t get worried
on a particularly overwhelming day, he will raise his voice at you
can get really overprotective 
some days you may not hear from him, or at least not much
will sometimes struggle to open up about his issues or what’s upsetting him
△ during the games
after your sudden disappearance, worry and fear ate him up
while checking your house he found a weird card
and once he discovered the exact same one at his brother’s, he knew something was going on
heard gi-hun at the police station rambling about some weird symbols and immediately recognized the design
interrogated him about you, desperate to know about your whereabouts 
as soon as he successfully infiltrated the games, he began your search
almost had a heart attack when he spotted you
had to make the effort of his life to stay calm and not run to you
would somehow manage to get you two alone so he can get you out of there (i wrote about this)
almost gets caught
feels betrayed you didn’t tell him and quite angry you’d risk your own life like this
but mostly relieved you’re okay (and still alive)
watches you like a hawk from the distance, ensuring your safety
constantly around, you continuously sense his presence close by 
□ post-games (you died)
had to see your death and practically went numb
blurry vision, ringing in his ears, shortness of breath, sting in his throat
the worst thing tho, was finding out his brother had been behind everything
how could he have done this to you? you trusted him! 
feels completely disgusted
after his coma, he blames himself for everything
your name was his first word after waking up
dreams about you 
gets you a cenotaph given that your body will forever remain strayed
nevertheless, he still talks to you like you’re there
tells you about his recovery and his progress finding the island
you are his strongest motivation
he’s doing this for you, to provide the love of his life a much deserving peaceful rest
gets you new flowers every few days
he’ll never stop feeling guilty
〇 post-games (you survived)
has nightmares he failed and left you to meet your demise on those cursed games
always there when you have them, and so is his shoulder if you need to cry
reassurance king
hides the identity of his attacker from you
becomes even more overprotective
shared location on at all times
gets paranoid if you don’t text him all day
he swore to never miss a single detail of your possible struggles. not again
you can still tell he holds himself responsible for your time on that island
stays awake at night just watching you sleep safe and sound (will never say it tho)
babies you
bigger spoon
doesn’t let you go out on your own if it’s late, afraid that something may happen and those psychopaths will reach you again
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strangesthirdeye ¡ 5 months ago
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ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ (sʜᴇʀʟᴏᴄᴋ x ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)
Summary: Born in a wise family does not mean that one person is the same.
Warning: IT'S SHERLOCK AS A DAD! WE LOVE HIM! medium angst, sad, not so bad achievements, stress, Sherlock being a great dad, struggling to achieve better results, comparison, inadequate feeling, fluff, love.
As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Not good enough. That's what you think in your mind when you see the exam trial results on the school's official website. Passed but not enough. No A's, no B's but lots of C's. That's it. Passed but did not achieve excellence.
You don't know whether to feel relieved, happy or sad. Because all the feelings are mixed inside you. You just stare at your laptop screen with a blank face. Is this what you got after a long effort? Is this the result of your hard work? What is missing? what needs to be added? what else do you need to do to get the best results?
More importantly, is this the result you will show your father in the hope that he will be proud of you? You are just dreaming. Your body doesn't move and everything is quiet in your bedroom. Only the sound of your father's and John's voice can be heard in addition to the sound of traffic outside the flat. You let out a shaky breath and slowly closed your laptop. eyes are closed tightly and both your hands are clasped in front and placed on your face. You then lean your head on your hands.
Tired, disappointed, sad and the feeling of failure in yourself is bubbling up in your mind. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Born in the Holmes family that has intelligent family members makes you feel like you are the lowest in the family. Although your grandmother is a genius woman, you are only close to your grandfather because you feel that your grandfather is the most normal person for you because he understands and is quite familiar with everything. No wonder you'll just stick with your grandfather every time you go to Musgrave Hall.
Not only that, Your uncle Mycroft and your father inherited your grandmother's wisdom making them a successful and genius in all things. Your uncle Mycroft works with the Government while your father is a consulting detective. Isn't that work only for geniuses?.
After a few months of hard work that's all you got? What will your father say later? did he scold you because you didn't get the best results? Oh god, now you think you are the weakest in terms of wisdom in the Holmes family. Lots of your friends get the best results in their exams even though they don't have genius family members. But you?
you sighed in frustration before getting up from the chair and plopped down on the bed face first before wrapping your head with both of your arms as if you were trying to hide yourself. You father and uncle John are still arguing about God knows what. Probably about the cases they receive. You are not someone who likes to know about other people's affairs. It's just none of your business so you just leave it alone.
But right now you care about what your father would say and do if he knew your achievements. Your bad performance.
The arguing between two adult men seems to have subsided, which makes the flat peaceful and quiet. Probably they are tired of arguing again so they just decided it would be better if they both shut up. At least you have time to cool down from feeling disappointed and anxious.
The two men seemed to be whispering about something that you can't catch with what they are talking about which is okay because well it's probably about cases. You don't always follow them solving a cases because that's not what you're interested in. And one more thing, you don't possess deduction ability like your father so you think you better stay behind. You let out a small sigh that seemed almost to cry.
Yes, you are crying but you don't want your cry to be heard by the two grown men outside your room. Your father is not the kind of man who always shows his affection to others, which is a little difficult for you to deal with. So mostly all your problems will be told to John as John always gives good advice.
You raised your head and wiped your tears with your sleeve before returning to your position before. Maybe you were too busy crying because you didn't hear the knock on your door followed by your father's voice calling your name.
"Y/n, dinner is ready" Sherlock said behind the door.
"In a second!" you replied loudly, managing to hide the hint of sadness.
The other side is silent Probably your dad has gone. You sighed heavily before getting up from the chair and brushing yourself with your hands trying to get rid of the wrinkles on your shirt. You wipe your tears with the sleeves of your shirt several times. You saw your face in the mirror, you sighed again when you noticed that your eyes were red and slightly swollen from crying. Well, you can't hide this.
"Dammit" you cursed under your breath. Ignored that, you moved yourself toward the door.
There your dad is standing motionless in front of your door with his neutral face. You jerked in shock and took a few stepped back. You looked up at him in skepticism.
"What are you doing?" You frowned, looking down, wiping your wet cheeks with your sleeves.
Sherlock cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowed at you. " you've been crying"
"I'm not" you denied, walked past him after trying to close you door room but then Sherlock put his hand on your door room with his hand. Blocking the door slammed shut.
"You are" Sherlock replied, walking into your room, ignoring your protested. His eyes scanning your room, looking through the cause of your sudden emotion. His eyes suddenly stopped at your laptop that still on. He bowed slightly to looked at you laptop screen, he squinted his eyes at the brightness.
You pursed your lips. "dad, can we just-"
"what's this?" Sherlock muttered, eyes still focusing on the screen.
You were silent. Not brave enough to answer what your father asked. It's like the sentence you wanted to say has disappeared like dust in the wind. Nothing. Your mind goes blank.
Sherlock turned his gaze on you. "Y/n"
"It's-" you paused. "can we just have dinner? please" You pleaded.
"Why are you hiding this?" Sherlock replied, ignoring your previous question.
You are silent again. Sherlock looked back at your exam results.
"Yo-"
"I've tried my best!" you cried out.
Sherlock became silent upon hearing your confession.
"I tried but it's still the same. I studied day and night really hard but it's the same. All those revisions and studying I did didn't yield the results I thought. It's like I'm destined to fail in everything even though it's very simple. Seeing my friends getting good results and being able to make their family proud makes me wonder if I can make my family proud, especially my own dad. I mean, he's a detective and he's very smart. He probably has a daughter who is also smart like him but not. His daughter is just a teenage girl who works really hard to fail again and again. Why? Because she does not possess the same wisdom as her other family members. She just.. Normal" you confessed.
Sherlock stared at you for a moment. You pursed your lips as you tried not to cry, tears started to form on your eyelids. You looked at your dad who was still silent and stared at you with an unreadable reaction. You sighed.
"nevermind about that.. I'm just overreacting.. I'm too emotional. You don't need to do anything.. I can handle it.. I'm just going to dinner" You walked closer to your study table to close the laptop .
Sherlock grabbed your hand making you stop moving. You pulled your hand to let go but you dad just tightened his grip making you stop struggling. You suddenly feel like crying. You don't know why you suddenly felt like you were returning to the body of a little girl under his gaze.
"Sweetie.."
Hearing that old nickname you were given as a child brought tears to your eyes. Sherlock then pulled your body closer to him. Hugging you as if you were still a child. A little girl who is always tailing her dad no matter where.
You sniffles as Sherlock rubbed your back a few times to coax you. He may not be good at expressing his sentiment towards others but he will show it in his own way even though it is a bit eccentric but he tried.
" I know you work hard to make dad proud, I know you spend time studying to achieve good results. I know you are always smart but in your own way. Failing is not forever, you can try and try again. Even if you don't being good at something doesn't mean you can't try to succeed. I don't care if your results are lower than your classmates or you don't get the high results you want, you still make me proud, you are still able to stay standing even though reality doesn't allow it. Being a Holmes doesn't mean you have to be intelligent. You are you. You have your own way of expressing your wisdom to everyone. Even though the exam results disappointed you, it still made me proud" Sherlock said in your ear as he keeps rubbing your back.
" I'm scared that you're disappointed with me.." you muttered while sniffling.
"No I don't, you will never disappoint me. I know you will try and try to succeed. I may seem not to express any sentiment to others but I will show it in my own way. Especially when it comes to you" your dad replied as he kisses your crown of hair.
You nuzzled against his neck. "I don't know what to do if you are disappointed with me, that's why I try to hide it from you.. I'm sorry"
"No, don't be sorry for things you can't achieve. You've tried, I won't be disappointed or angry with you. If I'm angry and upset with you, probably your uncle John will shoot me in the head with his gun" Sherlock smirked.
You smile at that as you keep hugging your dad. Head nuzzled against his neck finding comfort in his arms.
"I love you, dad" you whispered early, loud enough for your father to reply.
"I love you too, sweetie"
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wildestdreamsblog ¡ 1 year ago
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Latibule VIII
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)
Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.
Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: last two chapters before the end of season 1! Thank you for enjoying the ride with me 🫶🏻
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Masterlist, Latibule VII
Jung Hoseok watched over the glass of whiskey he was was sipping from as the last living member of the group entered the room. He smiled at Kim Taehyung as he plopped down on the seat with an exhausted sigh.
“Well, don’t you look good, Tae,” Namjoon drawled, his eyes focused on his tablet as he was ever so busy.
“I have no time to remove my makeup, hyung,” he replied in annoyance as he pointed at the faux bruises he had on his face from taping his latest movie. “Someone insisted I’d be here at this exact hour.” His eyes shifted at Seokjin who hadn’t said a word since he arrived, merely looking at them with emotionless eyes as though they were under a microscope.
“So why are we here, then?” Jungkook voiced out the unspoken query they had between them,
Hoseok placed down his glass with a thud, leaning forward, his arms hanging on his spread knees as he eyed them with a smile on his face. “Don’t you think it’s time to elect a leader?” He inquired curiously, his head tilted to the side as though he was overtly concerned. “There’s only so much violence and chaos our Kookie can do before they start taking advantage of our current predicament.”
Namjoon’s eyebrow lifted as he paused his reading on the tablet. He raised his eyes to Hoseok, his intelligent mind running a mile per second. “And just in time for her death anniversary, hyung.”
Hoseok’s gritted his teeth, his eyes hardening at the mere mention of her, of the person he fucking lost, “It’s what she would’ve wanted, Joonie,”
“Is it?” He drone with tone dripping with boredom. “Funny, I remember clearly how she never wanted to be part of our world…or am I wrong?”
Jungkook looked up thoughtfully from his phone, “For someone who didn’t want to be part of our world, Noona sure did know her way around knives and poisons.”
Jimin clicked his tongue at the golden maknae, “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Kookie.”
“It was a compliment, hyung!”
Amidst the chaos of arguments between the two, Hoseok looked at their oldest hyung- the original prince of the underworld. “You’re quiet, hyung.” he observed dryly, his smile pleasant as though he wasn’t the traitor that he was. “Do you have anything in mind?”
Seokjin stared at him with coldness in his eyes, how he was raised as the mafia prince showing as he regarded him with apathy and calmness. If it was anyone, they would have ran from the hills and yet, running wouldn’t have saved them. Nothing could have saved them should Seokjin chose to end them. “I’m just thinking about the traitor. Do you think he’s sitting with us right now, Hoseok?”
—-
Dominant.
That was how you would describe his kisses. Your Suga never did once hesitate, his lips strong and certain. He kissed you like he was starved, like he had been in hell for far too long and you were his first and only reprieve. And in between his kisses, you could feel his lips stretched into a smile. What you did not expect was his hands- of how soft his hands were as they cradled your head closer to him. You didn’t expect to feel the tremble in his hands as though he was having a difficult time controlling himself. What you most didn’t expect was how gentle he was as he caressed your cheek as though you were the most precious thing in the world.
And you were too powerless from his kisses. You held on to his thick wrist as he rested his forehead on yours.
He was breathing as hard as you were, and when you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you with softness and sparkle in his eyes that you never saw before.
“Okay?” He asked. You smiled at him as you nodded twice. You closed your eyes and savored this moment, your hand tracing every part of his face, forcing yourself to commit how he was at the very moment to memory.
“Okay,” you whispered.
Perhaps, what you didn’t anticipate and never thought of in your wildest dreams was how clingy he could be, you meant, looked at him! He was the least person you’d thought of to want to cuddle from how you knew him. You meant, wasn’t he the person who valued his personal space that he once pushed you to the side when you walked an inch closer to him back when you barely knew him?
His arms tightened on your waist when you attempted once again to get up from the bed. Suga had your head tucked firmly on under his chin, his leg in between your legs which further secured you to him.
You couldn’t leave him without him knowing about it. Yet, this didn’t deter you from attempting to get up.
“You’re going nowhere today, Angel,” he ordered grumpily, his body inching even closer to you, his cheek rubbing on your head like the cat you thought he was.
“We need to get up. We have work-“
“No, we don’t. We’ll call in sick today,” he murmured stubbornly, his hand rubbing your back softly. “I just got you. I can’t let you go.”
You looked up at him, and you swore at this very moment he looked so at peace and content that you couldn’t help but agree.
And so, you two called in sick.
“Then what should we do today?”
“Let’s go to the beach.”
Beach was a two-hour travel by bus and it was so worth it. The weather was perfect, and everything was so bright except for your companion who you couldn’t comprehend why was wearing black. He had his long hair on a half-bun, his eyes emotionless as though he wasn’t the one who suggested going to the beach. When you asked him why he wanted to go to the beach, he said that it was what the internet said when he researched where to go with your special someone. He said it so unapologetically that you weren’t able to say anything.
But heavens did you love it here. Back when everything wasn’t as difficult, your family would always go to the beach. You weren’t exactly rich, but your parents did everything to provide for you and sent you to medical school. Your whole life was just ahead of you until the tragedy happened. You thought you would never be genuinely happy again, but seeing him walk alongside you, your hand secured in his and as the wind blew his dark hair and the sound of waves were the only thing that could be heard, you were so certain you were happy again.
Suga made you happy.
He watched you fondly with his hands in his pockets as you skipped on the fine sand, your eyes crinkled to the sides as you dipped your feet on the warm sea. The emotion he had a hard time naming was now apparent to him- he was enraptured by you. You absolutely looked like an angel, he thought. And he would do anything to not bring his hell on you.
And without you noticing, he took a photo of you with the phone you gifted him before. The photo turned out to be low-quality, the resolution grainy but despite all that, it proved to be his favorite photo of you.
You were happy with him, Suga thought. An angel like you was happy with him.
“Why didn’t we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to ask him. He looked up at you from his lunch. The two of you decided to eat in the quaint restaurant situated on the seaside, the locals and tourists alike swarmed the place.
“Why didn’t we what, Angel?” He questioned as he placed more meat on your rice.
“You know…”
“I seem to not understand what you mean, Angel,” he commented confusedly, yet when you looked up at him he was attempting so hard to hide his smile.
You glared at him, “Why didn’t we do it?”
“Oh, that,” he pondered with his fingers stroking his chin as though in thought. “I knew it. You find me irresistible and I can’t blame you-“
“I take it back. I take it all back-“
Suddenly, he leaned closer to you, his finger tilting your chin up to him. “You have no idea how difficult it was to stop myself from taking you last night,” he divulged, his eyes were serious. “But Angel, you deserve more than a quick night. You deserve to be romanced.”
Suga told you he would be right back after your lunch. He said that he saw something in the souvenir shop that Jackson junior would loved. You waited and waited, however, you thought he was taking a lot longer than he should have.
You decided that you would just go to the shop, after all it was near to the bus station. You walked out of the restaurant. The sun was about to set, making the place looked more ethereal. You found it both beautiful and sad. You wondered when you’d be able to see this again. You were about to cross the road when a strong hand pulled you back so swiftly that you had no choice but to slam your body to his, as his other hand guided your waist to him.
A strong, loud horn from the car reverberated on the otherwise peaceful street as it sped away, barely missing your form.
Fuck.
Holy shit.
People swarmed at you as they asked you if you were okay, but all you could hear was the sound of heart beating so loud. All you could focused on was the arms that saved you. You were both on the ground, his body beneath you after he saved you and you could feel his arms trembled against you.
All of the noise faded as you looked up at Suga, beside him laid the paper bag of what he bought the child. He was looking at you with alarm, the memory of you about to get hit by a car because you didn’t see it was still fresh in his mind.
“Suga-“
“I told you,” he started, his teeth gritted with panic and anger. “I told you I only got you. I told you I cannot fucking lose you- that I can never lose you. What the fuck were you thinking? Didn’t you see the car!?”
You didn’t.
That was the truth, you didn’t see much. Because if you did, you would have seen him walked to you just as you exited the restaurant. He was almost in front of you that time, and yet, you didn’t see him.
You feared your condition was near its extremity.
One week passed since your almost accident. You stared at the paper white walls decorated by several diplomas and certificates of him. The clinic was quiet, the only thing that could be heard was the door opening and your doctor seating in front of you. He sighed.
And you were used to this.
Initially, you were hopeful that there was a cure, that an operation was possible. But there wasn’t a cure- they could only prolong your eyesight for so long. And the operation was something you could never afford. You needed to go abroad for it, you needed to recuperate for months for it- all those things were out of your hands. Your condition started when you lost your parents at that tragic accident. Your father was the kindest and most hardworking man, and he had the moral of a saint. That, you thought, was his downfall.
It was late at night when your father witnessed a murder. It was a huge news, you remembered. A senator perished that night, and your father was the key witness to it all. Immediately, your whole world was flipped around. Your family had to go into a witness protection program, leaving the life you knew behind. The days were idle and quiet, but at night the three of you were in trepidation of what could have happened.
Until one night, the unthinkable happened.
Your father was on edge, saying that the three of you were no longer safe there, that the police was not all on your side. You remembered the car ride like it was yesterday. You remembered your father driving with urgency away from the safe house.
You remembered the sudden light aimed beside you, illuminating all three of your inside the dark car. You remembered your mother’s panicked scream, your father’s agitated movements as he tried to dodge the car all to no avail. And then you remembered a car slamming on your side.
You woke up a week later with a terrible news: your parents didn’t make it.
But you did.
It was another three months later when signs started manifesting. The impact from the car accident was so severe that it affected your eyes.
“Did you already prepare, Ms. Y/N?” The doctor asked kindly after several beats of silence.
You chuckled at his worried eyes. He had always been kind to you, offering you help, sending you pamphlets of where you could get help, even going as far as researching for a service dog. He had a fatherly concerned for you, and you appreciated him. “I’m going blind, Doc. Not dying,” you reprimanded him with humor in your voice.
He didn’t return your smile and instead, he sighed before pushing his glasses up. “Did you tell your family?”
A beat of silence. “I have none.”
“Do you have…anyone?”
It was dark when you arrived, your eyes focused on your feet as your conversation with your doctor played in your head. You had limited time. You were almost near when you looked up and saw Suga waiting for you outside your shared home. He smiled the moment he saw you, the sides of his eyes crinkled. He walked to you and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. Your face was buried on his muscular chest, inhaling his muscular scent.
He smelled like home, you thought.
Maybe you did have someone.
Maybe you had him.
“Affirmative, boss,” a man hidden in the shadows said in his earpiece, his eyes trained on the living leader of the mafia world. “Agustd is alive.”
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Latibule IX
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everestgale ¡ 11 days ago
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Skeptic for the ask thingy? :D
I'm getting through these so slowly 😭 Sorry for the wait! Time to ramble about everyone's favorite detective bird-
[Send Me a Character and I'll List Ask Game]
favorite thing about them
Weirdly, it's the contrast between how intelligent and logical Skeptic is as a character vs. how absurd and irrational the Construct is. The way Skeptic fights and seeks universal singular truth in a world that, by design, does not have any... which was so masterfully highlighted in the Cage and the new Den. I remember genuinely exclaiming "SKEPTIC NO, STOP-" when the tunnel began collapsing (though in fairness, Hero is the one who started it). And the way Skeptic blamed himself for not "thinking it through," because that's how he thinks the world around him should work:
"Why for the love of everything did I not think about the stability of the tunnels?! I'm supposed to be smarter than this! I'm supposed to have a plan for everything."
And the entire dialogue with Hero following that line, too-
...Long story short, there is something very tragic but incredibly appealing about putting a character, who is all about facts, logic, and deduction, into a world that shifts based on your perception where nothing is certain. Sorry Skeptic, love you Skeptic </3
[What's up with all these asks getting so long... more under the cut </3]
least favorite thing about them
Rewritten and deleted lines from the Prisoner. Hands down. It's one of the few things I dislike about the DLC, and I choose to not accept it as canon. I really, really miss that triumphant "I knew it!" followed by "She couldn't tip her hand to Him. He wouldn't have let us leave." It really highlighted Skeptic's intelligence, along with an innate desire to trust the Prisoner, to think of her as someone with a plan. She wouldn't just cut off her own head like that, and he knew it.
I understand that this was done to make the lead-up to the Cage easier / more natural... but I feel like there were other ways to do it! Hero is right there, and he just watched Prisoner cut her head off, he could be disturbed and panicking about the whole situation and really want to leave, which would feel quite natural too! And then perhaps Skeptic was sure that Prisoner had a plan, but after you choose to leave her behind... he isn't so sure anymore, which could lead to him slowly losing his mind and devolving during the Cage. That would've been perfect, at least in my opinion!
Honorable mention goes to the fact that, even after the Pristine Cut, he still feels a little underutilized to me. I talked about it in my Paranoid character ask, but Deconstructed Damsel -> HEA should've had Skeptic instead of Paranoid (T v T)
favorite line
"You have the attention span of a fly. How are we supposed to unravel the mysteries of this place if you're so easily distracted by empty promises?"
Honestly I feel you, Hero, I also have the attention span of a fly-
And of course, how can I not mention: "Yes, yes, don't believe a word she says. Just go in, take the knife, and do what you're supposed to. Wink."
brOTP
I already talked about how I really like the Grey Brothers (Skeptic + Smitten) dynamic in Smitten's post, it's very fun to imagine these two as very different people who have very little in common... but who still care about each other.
But I also want to mention Skeptic + Hunted. I liked the idea of them being comfortable in each other's spaces even before the extended Den. And with them working together so well in the Den post-Pristine Cut, I think they would have a pretty close friendship.
Everest trying really hard to explain a dynamic they like, without resorting to just "they cool. me like them"-
OTP
For the record, I HC my Skeptic as aroace (or demiromantic asexual, I haven't fully decided yet). That will not stop my QPR-Skeptunist from completely taking over my brain <3
There is something very appealing about their dynamic - Opportunist is trying to get on Skeptic's "good side" and is interested in how intelligent Skeptic is (and how he could utilize that intelligence for his schemes), while Skeptic is curious about Opportunist and that rat brain of his (/aff), trying to see what's beneath those layers and layers of masks that Oppy likes to wear. In a way, they are both almost trying to outsmart one another, but from a place of curiosity... which could lead them to slowly enjoy each other's company :]
Also, this ship is really funny, and it's hilarious to imagine all the stupid scenarios they find themselves in- OH, and I wrote this on them like a month ago:
"I do genuinely feel like they would, not always but often, enjoy each other's company and yap - we all know that Skeptic is listening to Oppy's endless rambles to understand that gremlin mind of his, but I feel like he would come to like Oppy's weird plans and logic as a sort of 'new perspective' - and Oppy really appreciates someone acknowledging 'his genius,' and maybe in turn, he would also listen to Skeptic's esoteric rambles on stenography (it feels like they would be interesting, and depending on the topic, Oppy could actually be genuinely interested in Skeptic's yap in like a "oh, this would be helpful for my next scheme" kind of way)"
...I like this ship way too much for how little they interact in the game (which is "not at all")
Honorable mention almost goes to ParaSkep, courtesy of @/wintergrofyuri and @/itsonlypolite. It's so close to clicking with me (it feels like a dynamic I would like, I want to like them)... but it's just barely not it, I don't know what exactly, but something is missing / just not quite clicking with me (T v T)
nOTP
Don't think I have any nOTPs for Skeptic! I haven't seen any ship with him that I disliked :]
random headcanon
I already mentioned like 3 headcanons in this post: the fact that my Skeptic is aroace (or demiromantic ace), the fact that my Skeptic knows shorthand (and writes exclusively in it), the fact that Skeptic is actually a yapper who likes to explain and go in-depth on the topics he finds interesting... /silly
Let's add another one! I like the idea of a linguistics nerd Skeptic, who is really into the etymology of words (I talked about it in this post where I talked about voice's hobbies!), sounds like the kind of thing Skeptic would be interested in.
Are any of these HCs based on anything from the game? Nope! These are all entirely based on ✨ vibes ✨.
unpopular opinion
To be honest, I don't know what counts as an "unpopular opinion" for Skeptic. I don't think I have any? At least none that I feel strongly about, most of my opinions about Skeptic are either directly based on the lines from the game OR are completely irrelevant silly HCs based on nothing but my own likes lol
song i associate with them
I very rarely listen to just instrumental music (outside of lo-fi and a couple specific artists)... but none of the songs I listen to really fit Skeptic. And so my first instinct is... the original Objection! theme from Phoenix Wright-
Also Open the Game by Jiro. Not the kind of music I usually listen to, but a friend suggested it to me as "music that fits Skeptic" a while ago, and I agree with my friend, I think it really suits him in terms of musical style :]
favorite picture of them
...I'm going to be honest, I'm currently debating if I should give Skeptic a major re-design (because something about his current design just irks me). But if I had to pick an image for Skeptic that I made, it would be this-
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...I don't think I shared this before (I probably will in a doodle dump of "voices in dresses" sometime in the future), but this is Skeptic in Alice in Wonderland's dress. A few friends and I joked too much about how awful of a time Skeptic would have in Wonderland, and so this was born!
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jackiepackiee ¡ 11 months ago
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Oh hey there! This my first time requesting you!
I have a request for chuuya nakahara and dazai osamu. I wanna ask that how would he be a as a boyfriend to a s/o who could control electrons in the atmosphere.
For dazai its how would he confess to girl who he admires for a long time but is scared to lose her, but she confesses to him before he could?
Thank you very much and I love the rule about angst without a happy ending i mean cmon life is tough enough already we all are carrying emotional baggage in some way or the other 😭😭
Love you admin, take care! 💞💞
Trying this again because I finished and tumblr deleted it ALLLL
I love science!
𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾 & 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝒜𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇
𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈- 𝓃𝑜𝓅𝑒
𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 / 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒
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𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾
Will ask the most annoying questions
“Can you make your body a metallic bond so when you’re hit by an enemy, you’re malleable. Oh! Can you make the hatrack an ionic bond so I can make his charges line up and he’ll explode!”
“Dazai… No!
Yall meet a work
He teases you, goes on missions with you, pranks Kunikida with you
But it’s not until your ability goes haywire and you’re hurt one day that he realizes he likes you
From then on, he hugs you when your ability acts up
Nullifying you and getting a hug
A win win in his book
Little things change
He does his paperwork, doesn’t drink as much, teases you more, and makes less suicide attempts
Though, he can’t confess
You’re too good, he can’t ruin you with his depression and violent past
But, what if you say no?
He thinks it’s a lose lose
What a dumb thing for such a smart guy to think?
He finally decided to confess when Ranpo tells him that it’s a good idea
(Ranpo, the world's greatest detective, can obviously tell you like Dazai and he likes you. Why not be the wingman for the new it couple?)
“Dazai… the entire agency knows. And I’ll tell them for you… unless you get me a snack. Yknow, I’m no romance detective, but love is in the air.”
So… he brings you to the Port
Wins you a cute little teddy at a game slot
He’s about to confess
But… before he can speak
“Dazai, I like you!”
You like him. You. So incredibly intelligent, strong, kind? He’s smart, but would’ve never seen this coming
He noticed how the ocean twists
You ability acts up and is causing the hydrogen and oxygen to disconnect
You’re practically shaking with nerves
So… he hugs you
Not a kiss… he would never rush such a perfect moment
The ocean calms, you ability nullifies
Now that you’re dating, the question are WORSE
“Did you change the atoms in my brain so I love you?” “One, no. Two, that’s not how love works!”
Brags to everyone, even if it’s annoying
Just adores you
Thinks he could die happy
Although, he’d much rather live to love you
Makes sure that all your missions are local so he can get to you incase electrons start buzzing around
Calls you dumb things, stupid science jokes, it’s a headache
Overall, so smart but sooo stupid
𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶
Thinks you’re the coolest!
Likes to think your abilities are similar and you two have a connection
Also… a bit dumb
So he asks so many questions
What, he’s fascinated with you and he wants to know as much as he can
“Valence electrons? What?” “What do ya mean I can’t see em? Too small?”
Even if he’s technically the strongest in the entire Port Mafia, thinks you’re better
I mean, he can control gravity but you can manipulate matter!
Thinks that you’re a gift for all his years of hell and unluckiness
Even if you’re just a friend… for now
Never EVER lets you go on missions alone
Makes sure at least one of his trusted subordinates is with you
And if that can’t happen, he’ll make sure Mori gives Chuuya you’re a dangerous work
He’ll miss sleep to take your work, just so you’re safe
If you’re ever overwhelmed, he’ll float you off the ground
Makes sure that you can calm down
Maybe it’s the air higher up, maybe the scenery?
Or… maybe it’s his arms wrapped tight around you
He realizes during one of these moments how much he loves you
“Shh, it’s okay. You ability is stable and you’re safe.”
After asking Kouyou for advice, he’s ready to confess
Buys roses, wine, a jazz record, and a little stuffed animal
Knocks on your apartment when…
You open the door… looking stunning.
“Chuuya? What’re you doing here?”
A gorgeous red outfit, styled hair and makeup. He used his ability to float the gifts to the ceiling so you wouldn’t see.
“Oh… you look pret- I mean! You’re so dressed up.”
“Yeah… was about to leave.”
His heart sunk, although his cheeks warmed at the sight of you in such a beautiful outfit.
“Do you have a date?”
“Date? No, I don’t.”
What a relief!
“Well, what’s the occasion?”
“… I really like you Chuuya! I was gonna try and find you at work now!”
Oh woah… did he just die and go to heaven?
Gives you the sweetest kiss (It’s definitely his first)
Now that you’re dating, he spoils you
Remember how no one is allowed to put you in danger?
Before, he’d let other watch you
But now he’ll clear his day just for your safety
Tries to learn as much as he can about science so he can talk with you even more
“Damn it… electron sea? I thought we had seven seas already?”
Overall? Perfect 11/10
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sammyluvr ¡ 3 months ago
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sweet smile — sam winchester
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cw : fluff, gn!reader, detective!reader, transfem!sam, barely any dialogue, mentions of death/violence, not proofread, also definitely not my best writing but that's okay, no y/n, 1.9K words. requested !
summary : it's almost startling how quickly you develop a small crush on the most gorgeous fbi agent you've ever seen when she comes in to help solve your case.
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on nearly any occasion, sam stays out of the local police stations during cases as much as she can. and usually, with her pantsuit and fake fbi badge, the police are as glad to see her go as she is to leave. but sitting next to you and your meticulously constructed evidence board, she doesn’t mind spending extra time here.
you’re the lead detective on this case, and sam finds you both sweet, cute, and clearly very intelligent. sam’s pretty sure that she and dean are dealing with a wraith this time around, but even without the knowledge of the supernatural, you’ve managed to compile an impressive amount of evidence and string it together in a way that actually makes sense. she thinks that this might be the first time that normal detective work might actually lead her and dean straight to the killer.
so, sam sent dean off to go check out one of the crime scenes while she stays here, listening intently as you carefully explain each and every detail of your evidence board. she can tell that you’ve gathered enough information to actually start seeking out suspects. of course, you’re still unable to fully explain the cause of death, but otherwise, sam can’t help but be highly impressed with your work.
not only does she get extra help in searching for official suspects—you’ve cleared her a spot on your desk across from your own seat and offered your help doing research—but she’s also blessed with the pleasant sight and sounds of you explaining everything to her. you’re rather endearing as you talk, and the blinds in the office are open wide, letting the mid-morning sunlight cast a bright line along your profile each time your head tilts to a certain angle.
she gives you a sweet smile when you're done explaining. any other day, with any other person, she’d give a kind, polite smile. there’s a difference. and, of course, you wouldn’t know that, but the smile sends your heart racing anyway.
“thank you, detective,” she says, sincere and unrushed. now that you’ve given her all the information that you have, she doesn’t need to stay any longer. but she wants to take you up on your offer. she wants to sit right across from you on your small desk and whatever excuse she can get to keep watching the way your fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt or hear your impassioned voice as you do everything you can to be sure that the victim’s families receive closure and justice.
“of croup se,” you smile back, hoping that you at least look like your composure remains intact. internally, you’re undeniably freaking out about how absolutely gorgeous she is. “thank you for making the trip over to help us out with this case. i really can’t help but feel like we’re missing something big. this cause of death is driving me crazy.” 
normally, you hate the feds. but she’s so pretty and sincere that you can’t do anything but love the fact that she’s here. and she smiles at you in the most lovely way that it makes your cheeks heat up.
“just doing our job,” she says. her smile isn’t quite as life-threatening this time—your heart only skips a beat or two—but she says those words like she’s less concerned about the job part than the part where she’s helping you out. from the way her partner acted early, it seems like they don’t really spend all that much time with the local police on cases. which means she’s staying longer than necessary, for one reason or another. and she says that she’s just doing her job when her job doesn’t require her to be here and looking at you like you’re the reason. it almost feels like she’s flirting. you might go into cardiac arrest if that’s the case.
you tell yourself that she’s too beautiful to be staying behind just for you. then she grabs the chair from you that you picked for her so that you don’t have to carry it any longer than necessary. and then when she sits across from you and her long legs keep brushing against yours in the cramped space, she looks up from her computer with a pretty, bashful smile and a sweet, murmured apology.
making eye contact with her is like that tiny, pleased, and slightly childish rush one gets when quickly running a finger through a candle’s flame. it’s simple, not some overwhelming surge of exhilarating adrenaline, but you find this to be just as effective in making you feel something for her. it’s softer, like the melting of wax and slight singe on a fingertip. it’s unwise to keep putting skin to flame, even for a split moment, but her gaze doesn’t burn, you just know it. it’s too kind and well-meaning, so you figure it isn’t fire, but something akin. some sort of warmth and light that couldn’t possibly do any harm. you’ll keep locking eyes with her because everything about her feels safe and pure.
her presence is a lovely contrast to the gore and death and confusion of this case. funny, she’s been thinking the same about you. neither of you are unused to violence or dead bodies, but a pretty face to ease the eyes never hurts.
it’s a bit hard to concentrate with her right there, but you make do. there’s enough motivation in being some sort of help to her. 
the shadows cast by the open blinds shift as the sun rises to its noontime peak in the sky. it’s one p.m. before you know it, then you’re hungry and most definitely distracted by her pretty face.
you softly shut your laptop to subtly grab her attention, your gaze already waiting for hers when she looks up. your lips quirk up into a light smile, tired of frowning at police records and endless files and reports. there must be something in the air today, because the moment you have her attention, you rest your chin on your palm and manage not to break eye contact as you speak.
“i’m hungry,” you say simply, “we should catch lunch and a break.”
sam feels guilty. you look at her with this soft sort of hope, as if it would make a difference in your day to spend more time with her. there’s not really any expectation along with that hope and sweetness, like even just being friendly with each other while she’s in town is perfectly nice enough for you.
but sam knows that being around her any more than that could never be good for you. you’re looking to her for a sense of reprieve within all this death and stress of the case. she understands; she’d love to have lunch with you, preferably somewhere outside the precinct so that it can feel a little more personal. it’s just that she’s convinced that she most certainly isn’t any sort of real respite. sure, she smiles at you when she thinks you’re being cute, but her presence here represents a worse, more violent, and darker truth about your case, about the world that she hopes you never come to know of.
and yet, the look in your eyes is enough to persuade her that lunch can’t do any harm.
“that sounds like a good idea,” she smiles. she should be allowed to push down that constant guilt every once and a while, right? she hopes you suggest eating somewhere else.
you have to keep your smile from growing too wide. you hope it’s not too much to suggest eating somewhere else. “there’s a great cafe down the street, as long as you’re okay with the city’s best sandwiches.”
sam thinks it’s quite adorable the way that you come across shy and forward all at once. you look bashful while you speak, but are playful and simple without stumbling over your words. it gives her confidence, lets her wonder if flirting with you would make your cheeks heat up.
“i definitely won’t say no to the city’s best sandwiches with the city’s best detective,” she says, closing her own laptop. it was a bit of a fight to maintain eye contact throughout the whole line; her felt confidence doesn’t really remedy her inherent awkwardness. but she made it through her little quip and indeed, she’s pretty sure that she’s succeeded in making you a bit flustered.
“you flatter me,” you refute after a moment, trying to sound cool, but laughing awkwardly. if you weren’t lost in her damn gorgeous eyes, you’d cringe at yourself. she just finds it endearing.
“i’m serious,” she says, and the way her voice turns all sincere proves just that, “you’ve done some really great detective work. half the time when we show up, the police have almost nothing to go off of. usually it’s not their fault, but most places i’ve seen would have been about ten times more clueless than you are.”
heat rises up your neck, but you can’t help but feel proud to hear it. she sounds far too sincere to just be flirting. “thank you,” you murmur, smiling softly.
she pulls on the brown knee-length overcoat that she wore when she first came in, and you’d probably start drooling over how good she looks in it if you stared a second longer. so you pull on your own jacket and walk into the crisp november air with her.
the walk is short, just across the street and a few businesses down to the right. even so, you think you’d like to keep walking with her, maybe do this sometime again. it feels like wishful thinking, but maybe you’ll have another chance before she goes. it’s startlingly easy to imagine holding her hand or sharing an umbrella or fixing her scarf. she’s not even wearing one, but you know she’d look all soft and cozy if she did.
in the cafe, she orders a coffee that sounds nice and a simple caprese sandwich. tomatoes aren’t really any good at this time of year, but when her eyes skim the menu, they skip over the options with meats and you wonder if she’s vegetarian or if she just prefers not to eat deli meats.
when you sit, you call her agent, and she says to just call her sam. it rolls off your tongue so nicely, makes your cheeks feel a little warm. you insist that, if that’s the case, she’d better call you by your first name as well. when she does, you nearly choke on your hot drink. if you weren’t aware of this little workplace crush on her, you’d think you’re beginning to develop a fever.
sitting and talking with her, sharing looks out the window to people watch or sharing looks to secretly think of how pretty the other is, and wasting time to avoid going back is all soft and sweet with her. considering your nerves, it’s much easier than expected, too.
unfortunately, you can’t dawdle forever. she walks back with you, but doesn’t sit. instead, she gathers her things and tells you with a regretful smile that she has to meet back up with her partner to continue on their end of the investigation. you don’t show it too much, smiling back and nodding in understanding, but you’re certainly sad to see her go.
maybe she’ll be back.
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mya-valentine ¡ 4 months ago
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Headcanon: Heizou with a Criminal S/O
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Heizou is instantly captivated by you, not just because of your charm but because of the mystery surrounding your criminal background. He’s fascinated by how someone so clever and cunning managed to evade detection for so long. It’s a puzzle he can’t resist solving.
Heizou enjoys teasing you about your criminal activities. He’ll throw in comments like, “I bet you thought you could outsmart the great Detective Shikanoin, didn’t you?” or “You’re lucky I’m on your side—or am I?” His playful banter is a way to keep things light between you, though he’s always aware of your capabilities.
Despite your past, Heizou respects your intelligence and resourcefulness. He knows it takes a sharp mind to pull off some of the things you’ve done, and he can’t help but admire that. In return, you respect his detective skills, even if they sometimes clash with your lifestyle. There’s an unspoken acknowledgment of each other’s talents.
As much as Heizou enjoys the thrill of being with someone like you, he’ll often try to steer you away from trouble. “I know you’re tempted, but maybe stay clear of any big heists tonight?” He’s always looking out for you, even if he knows you might not always listen.
Sometimes, it’s hard to tell whether you and Heizou are playing a game of cat and mouse or if you’re genuinely in a relationship. He’ll often joke about how he’s going to “catch you in the act” one day, but there’s always a playful tone behind it. You both thrive off the tension and excitement this dynamic brings.
While Heizou might not completely condone your actions, he won’t harshly judge you for them either. If he finds out you’re planning something, he’ll simply say, “I’d hate to see you get caught—by someone other than me, that is.” His subtle warnings are his way of showing he cares about your safety.
Sometimes, Heizou will consult with you on cases he’s working on. He knows your background gives you a unique perspective on crime, so he values your input. “If you were in their shoes, how would you have done it?” It’s a strangely intimate bond, discussing how to outsmart criminals while you were once one yourself.
Despite being on opposite sides of the law, there’s a deep understanding between you two. Heizou knows that your criminal past doesn’t define you entirely, and you know that his work as a detective doesn’t mean he’ll betray your trust. There’s a delicate balance in your relationship that both of you respect.
Heizou is fiercely protective of you, especially when your past catches up to you. If you’re ever in danger or targeted by other criminals, he won’t hesitate to step in. “I might let you get away with a lot, but no one messes with you on my watch,” he’d say, standing between you and the threat.
Being with Heizou is never boring. The mix of your criminal tendencies and his detective instincts keeps the relationship exciting and full of adrenaline. Whether you’re teasing him with near-miss confessions or helping him solve cases, there’s always a sense of thrill between you two.
If you ever manage to get away with something suspicious, Heizou will have fun interrogating you—half-seriously, half-jokingly. “So, where were you last night? And why do I have the feeling you’re not telling me everything?” His sly smile betrays that he’s more amused than actually suspicious.
Heizou might be a detective, but when it comes to you, he’s willing to bend the rules. If you’re ever caught up in something risky, he’ll do what he can to keep you out of trouble—even if it means covering for you. He trusts that you won’t put him in a compromising position, and that trust is key to your relationship.
The dynamic between you and Heizou is a constant push and pull. He’s always trying to keep you on the straight and narrow, while you’re always testing the limits of what you can get away with. It creates a playful tension that keeps the relationship exciting.
Despite your past, Heizou never forces you to change or stop being who you are. He respects your independence and understands that you won’t give up your lifestyle entirely. Instead, he works with you to find a balance—where you can still be you, but without causing too much trouble.
When things are calm, and it’s just the two of you, Heizou will occasionally open up about his fears. He worries about the risks you take and confides in you about how he wants you to be safe. “I just don’t want to lose you to something stupid,” he’d admit, his usual carefree demeanor replaced by a rare moment of vulnerability.
.
.
.
Masterlist
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milquetoast27 ¡ 8 months ago
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Subtext in The Creeping Man
I find that this story of Arthur Conan Doyle's Holmes canon features some of the most complex subtext we've had aside from A Study in Scarlet. But rather than being complex early-on because of our lack of knowledge of the characters, it is rather complicated by the fact that we both know too much and too little of their relationship. This story, with astonishing subtlety, conveys the cooperative relationship between Doyle's two characters — the nuance in their limits and strains, but also the joys that they work to reach, together. It emblemises the beauty of the Canon, where it all ties back to the joy and complexity of human understanding and belonging.
This story opens in "those latter days" (1903, near to Holmes's retirement) where Watson describes their relations as "peculiar". The word certainly feels like a euphemism from the ever-polite Dr. Watson, when it is soon made clear that their relations were far from amenable. Watson has become one of Holmes's "concentrated habits", and apparently is as good as a piece of funiture, as all of Holmes's remarks would have been as "appropriately addressed to his bedstead." It's given through snapped sentences; "I was a whetstone for his mind. I stimulated him. He liked to think aloud in my presence." This "irritation" and discordance between them is extremely concentrated in the early pages of this story, but drags through it, as well. Take, for example, the "laconic" (or perhaps iconic?) message:
"COME AT ONCE IF CONVENIENT — IF INCONVENIENT COME ALL THE SAME. S.H."
Watson gives us the original of Holmes's telegram to demonstrate to his readers just how "long-suffering" he is. A true exhaustion is apparent in how he simply shows the telegram, rather than politely referring to it. Compare this with the unendingly civil telegram sent to Watson in The Boscombe Valley Mystery, and you can see the great shift that has taken place in their alliance.
"HAVE YOU A COUPLE OF DAYS TO SPARE? HAVE JUST BEEN WIRED FOR FROM THE WEST OF ENGLAND IN CONNECTION WITH BOSCOMBE VALLEY TRAGEDY. SHALL BE GLAD IF YOU WILL COME WITH ME. AIR AND SCENERY PERFECT. LEAVE PADDINGTON BY THE 11.15."
While long-term and intimate relationships will remove need for over-courtesey, there are two very different reasons for why Doyle has shown both of these telegrams at a point in time. This accumulation of Holmes's ungrateful behaviour not only imparts Watson's utter despondancy, but also, importantly, Holmes’s — and this is something that Watson's ever-perceptive and intelligent heart does not fail to miss. It is important to note that this story nears Holmes's retirement, where he acknowledges that he has been "sluggish in mind". There is no doubt, then, that the great detective is out of his prime. Hence the temperementalness, taking his Watson for granted, and a heavier reliance on those "narrow and concentrated habits."
Despite the turbulent roads of their life, we see Watson's undying devotion co-exist with it. Past all the irritation, Watson closes, "Such was my humble role in our alliance." It is more than clear that he consciously makes the decision to remain at Holmes's side, to be his ally. Such has always been Watson's role in their alliance. His "humble" service extends to his practice as doctor and soldier. His pride is in his duty to others, and to Holmes as his assistant.
There is something that shines through Holmes's unsocial behaviour when we look closely at the text.
I sank back in my chair in some disappointment. Was it for so trivial a question as this that I had been summoned from my work? Holmes glanced across at me. "The same old Watson!" said he. "You never learn that the gravest issues may depend upon the smallest things."
We know from the Canon (opening of DANC and RESI) that Watson's emotions are like an open book to Holmes. This 'sinking in some disappointment' is not missed by Holmes's 'glance'. "The same old Watson!" he says, and I feel it important to note that he compliments one of Watson's most distinguishing features; his stability and fixture — the "one fixed point in a changing age." Yet, we may miss these details, because Holmes, ever in his own insecurity, must back-hand every praise with a teasing chide. We could say that an attempt was made to cheer Watson up, though not very successful.
Developments continue, as Holmes tryingly says "I had hoped to have a longer chat with you", then parades him with compliments before their client, "Dr. Watson is the very soul of discretion". But mixed indications continue to come as he flips back to patronising language; "You will appreciate it, Watson, when"—. Doyle further cements Holmes's particular unbecoming behaviour on this day as he further also annoys their client, who speaks in a "tone of reproach" when Holmes does not listen, and is "clearly annoyed" at irrelevant interruptions — to which, Holmes only smiles in, what I believe, is pure self-importance.
Here we find a shift — a greater effort on Holmes's part, a second round of appreciation for Watson's stability, even when his opinion is faulty. "Good, Watson! You always keep us flat-footed on the ground". He's then included in his bubble; "We were gradually coming to that conclusion, were we not, Watson?", and even a sordid attempt at bringing Watson with him on the bait of the Chequers in 'Camford' where "the port used to be above mediocrity and the linen was above reproach." (Which he follows up on!)
And, despite these attempts, their connection still does not rekindle. Watson is clearly irritated still with the inconsiderate easiness with which Holmes was able to leave London, leaving only difficulty on Watson's end to join him. It's an indicator from Doyle that nothing's remedied, yet.
Here is an interesting passage for study.
"Have you the effrontery necessary to put it through?" "We can but try." "Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee and Excelsior. We can but try — the motto of the firm."
Burstive praise from Holmes at the merest utterance of a phrase — a phrase which has only ever been used one other time in the Canon; the previous story, The Problem of Thor Bridge. This suggests it may be some small motto of Holmes's, though one not often seen in Watson's records — this makes his use of the phrase a very Holmesian approach. This participation, no doubt, is nothing but a delight for Holmes, who is trying to restring their relationship, and continues to overenthusiastically affirm Watson's sturdiness.
Yet it's made clear that superficial praises are not a true apology, as we see signs yet again of Watson's dispassion. As they sit to their meeting with Professor Presbury, Watson writes:
Mr. Holmes smiled amiably.
This sentence may seem unassuming, but be assured it is one of the coldest in the Canon. This usage of "Mr. Holmes" is entirely unique within the Canon. In other times, when Watson has used "Mr. Holmes" or "Mr. Sherlock Holmes", it has been when speaking directly to his readers, since they would be using the honourific. This moment is the only exception, where Watson has intentionally used "Mr." to create distance and convey undesire for intimacy with Holmes (rather than any professional effect). Why has Watson used the line here? Well, Holmes is 'smiling amiably' — in a way that forces a friendly manner, one that attempts to create a good impression with Professor Presbury — which also didn't work out, by the way. Considering all the superficial means up to now employed by Holmes on his companion, Watson no doubt feels cheapened and no more important than Holmes's investigative objects; as if his trust is just as easy to gain as anyone else's, with nothing but an 'amiable smile'.
We are shown time and again that Watson isn't pleased with Holmes's desultory attempts at reconciliation, until finally, a shift happens. One that is not identifiable in the text, and so is reasonable to assume happened unpenned. We find Holmes acknowledging that "Dr. Watson has his patients to attend to", when before this information seemed completely irrelevant to him. Holmes even sent Watson a "short note asking [him] to meet at the train"! The greatest change is when we finally have Watson using "my friend" and "my comrade" for the first time in this story. Now we see Watson taking real excitement in the case, in the "assurance of [his] comrade". Self-teasing also makes its way into their dialogue as Holmes cries "Oh, Watson, Watson, what a fool I have been!" The emphasised address seems to suggest an apology for something more. It's as if he cries 'Look how wrong I have been Watson, how imperfect and daft I can be!' It's adorable, really.
All semblances of reproach towards Holmes disappear as they steal together in darkness, come to the dĂŠnoument of their adventure, as Holmes philosophises on science and nature, and described admiringly as "the man of action". Our story ends in a light-hearted resolution, as always.
"There is an early train to town, Watson, but I think we shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequers before we catch it."
To conclude, this story presents so much so subtly in its pages; a reflection of the small, nuanced and unseen processes between human beings, but those which we must be attentive to in order to find fuller understanding between each other. Yet, there is still much uncertainty in my inferences; which also shows the uncertainty of language and communication. We simply must be clear of ourselves, as we can only assume Holmes and Watson were, off-page, for them to have found that resolution, rather than fleeting smiles and compliments. Arthur Conan Doyle, with this story, further cements the triumph of bonds and connection, perhaps far more than any other of his stories.
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pod-together ¡ 6 months ago
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Pod-Together Day 1 Reveals 2024
Light up This Old Soul (Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars: Dark Disciple - Christie Golden) written by EustaciaVye, performed by AsterRoc Summary: As Obi-Wan heals, he learns more about the Nightsisters' approach to the Force, while Asajj learns more about her heritage.
Both a Blessing and a Curse [text, audio] (Star Wars: Rebels) written by wanderingjedihistorian, performed by flowerparrish Summary: His memory was both a blessing and a curse. Alexsandr Kallus had known this for many years. The date he’d first seen the name The Ghost cross his desk was forever burned into Kallus’ memory. And that date was getting closer.
View from a Pavilion (镇魂 | Guardian (TV 2018), 绅探 | Detective L (TV), 叛逆者 | The Rebel (TV 2021)) written by Martha, performed by SEF_podfic Summary: During the dark days of the occupied French Concession, Luo Fei helps an injured young captain of the Republican Military Intelligence. [text and podfic]
dream symphony (The Magnus Archives (Podcast)) written by Lua, performed by gracicah Summary: Simon Fairchild loves the sky, and, through his surprisingly long life, he feels loved back by it. It isn’t all that surprising that he has a good time as an avatar of his patron. After all, he is a man in love.
A Case of Identity Fraud (Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics)) written by DayenuRose, performed by Nymphie_Wolf Summary: After spending years of putting in the hard work and re-building his life and his relationship with his family, Jason Todd is not amused when he falls over a decade into the past. The Red Hood is in the middle of his vengence on his family, Tim's life is falling apart at the seems, and his family is in shambles. Jason misses his home, his family, and the ability to have a decent meal. After two months of (mostly) observing from the sidelines, Jason can't stand by anymore. If no one else will step in and help Tim, then he will. Can Jason help past!Tim without messing up the future for everyone?
Tenderly (Original Work) written by Hagar, performed by wilfriede0815 (with additional voices by stargateinmybasement, ChaosKiro, Juulna, Tipsy_Kitty, horchata, and flowerparrish) Summary: My name is Amalie Madsen. I’m a schoolteacher teaching sixth grade. Since I became a teacher, I’ve been told many times that my sense of wonder may fade with time but, in fact, just last year I ran into the greatest wonder I have encountered to date. Or, should I say, wonders.
Truth Comes Out Of His Well (Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types) written by TsarinaTorment, performed by stereden Summary: Lee Fletcher had a secret. Luke knew it, and anything Luke knew, Kronos knew. This had consequences, which started with Lee not meeting his end at the business end of a giant's club after all.
Letters to Jiejie [text & podfic] (陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)) written by FlutterFyre, performed by pezzax Summary: Jiang Cheng doesn't know what has gotten into Wei Wuxian and to be honest, he doesn't care. He just wants things to go back to normal. Stuck at the Cloud Recesses guest lectures, he vents to his elder sister as he alsways has, hoping against hope that she will have a solution that might bring some semblance of sense back to his foster brother.
Like a Hozier Song [text, audio] (Daredevil (TV), Daredevil (Comics), The Punisher (TV 2017), Punisher (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe) written by BurdenedWithPointlessPurpose, performed by 42donotpanic Summary: Matt never expected for Frank Castle to end up on his couch for months on end. He’d never expected to make a home with him, but nothing is as he’d planned. Life isn’t neat like that and his friend gets that more than anyone else ever has. It’s the reason he’s a little sweet on his friend… like the Hozier songs the guy likes to sing.
Phantom Friends (Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics)) written by Litra, performed by itallcomesbacktoandreil Summary: Five times someone in the bat family died and met Danny, and the one time no death was needed.
Room 505 (The Hotel (Podcast)) written by zombified_queer, performed by MistbornHero Summary: The Lobby Boy gets to flex his creative muscles. The Hotel Herself observes with a pang of surprise.
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rentenwins ¡ 6 months ago
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silly little excuses (newneighbour!leehan x reader)
masterlist link | next chapter
synopsis: the boys catch onto what's happening. with a ittle jab and detective skills, and nothing that the ever-so-helpful taesan would do anything about it...
content: banter banter and banter!!, the bnd members <3, mild cursing, a lot of dialogue tbh, descriptions of food eating, taesan is a schemer ong, taesan and sungho are a cheeky duo, a very clueless jaehyun, woonhak n riwoo mention!!
a/n: this one is goofy... calm before the storm trust me on this one pls. if you would like to be part of my taglist to get notifs on a new chapter, please send an ask in my inbox <3 my updates are not the most consistent apologies :( but thank you for sticking around nonetheless!
wc: 1448
taglist: @haechology @jenuinne @saintriots @badaspookie @yveol @yunextdoor @lailols @rawrbamgyu @amarecerasus @pandorahearts19 @luvvhaerin
chapter 3: i got a plan
“Bro, I’m being so serious.”
“Proof or it didn’t happen.”
“I LITERALLY CANNOT SO JUST TRUST ME ON THIS ONE.”
Jaehyun seethes at Sungho across from him. The boys were at their usual outdoor cafe table, just outside the university. It was a miracle that they would get the same table almost every week.
“Woah, woah slow down. What’s going on?” Taesan suddenly appears and nudges Sungho to make room for himself at the table.
“Sungho’s not believing a word I say—“
“Believe it or not, it’s quite easy to.” Taesan replies nonchalant before Jaehyun gets a chance to defend himself.
“Oh my god, Taesan I will kick your ass.” Jaehyun groans while Sungho almost chokes on his drink and Taesan smirks.
Jaehyun was observant, but he was amazingly dense too. He was intelligent, but a bit too much speculation causes an inability to recognise the obvious in front of him. This was one of those cases.
After you had left Leehan’s place that evening, Jaehyun went over to Leehan’s to drop off dinner from Sungho since he hadn't had the time (or the budget really) for his grocery shopping just yet. So Jaehyun, the loving friend he was, kept the boy company for the evening while he was at it.
Sungho turns to Taesan, “Jaehyun said he found one of y/n’s containers in Leehan’s kitchen. So now he’s a little curious as to how it magically made its way there.” Jaehyun had oftentimes teased you for your mismatching containers, and the one he saw in Leehan’s apartment was definitely yours. Who else would’ve owned a container with a Pororo lid?
Taesan scoffs, “Y/n probably made cookies like she did last time for us. Remember that?” Sungho squints at Taesan before he remembers, “OH! THOSE! That makes a lot more sense.”
Jaehyun waves his arms dramatically in front of Sungho and Taesan. “Hello? What am I missing? Am I suddenly chopped liver to you all?”
“You know? Y/n’s cookies? The ones they make every now and then?” Sungho says, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Jaehyun looks like he’s been smacked across the face. “Why do I not know of this? What cookies are you two on about?”
Taesan rolls his eyes. “It’s y/n’s thing. They probably made them for Leehan since he just moved in and whatnot. Nothing too out of the blue.” Taesan nonchalantly says as he eats a cracker from his bag.
Just as Jaehyun was about to protest about his apparent lack of knowledge, a silent ‘yo’ came from beside him as the figure makes himself comfy in the chair beside Jaehyun.
“Speak of the devil…” murmurs Jaehyun as he leans back in his chair, not loud enough for Leehan to hear but enough for Sungho to almost choke on his drink again. Leehan feels the stares on him as he opens his little blue container of… cookies? Dipped with chocolate?
You loved making cookies for your friends, and Taesan knew it was a way for you to blow off steam. One time last semester, during submission week, you were so stressed that you stress-baked three batches of chocolate cookies and gave a whole load of it to Taesan and Sungho. Taesan had so much he had to give some to his other neighbours, Woonhak and Riwoo, just so they'd still be enjoyed fresh.
And yet, with all the baking you've done, Taesan has never seen chocolate dipped cookies since the day Woonhak started senior high school. It wasn't long ago, but you had sworn that they were 'too messy' and you were 'never going to do it again unless it was as special' as that day.
“Aha!” Jaehyun leaps from his seat, other tables turn to look at Jaehyun’s unwarranted reaction as Leehan almost drops the cookie he had just bit into. Leehan’s bewilderment was understated: he stared at Jaehyun, then at Taesan and Sungho looking amused at his container of cookies. Sungho elbows Taesan and he slaps him back.
“Is there something on my face?” Leehan murmurs, and when no one gave him an answer he took a bite of the cookie. He looks at Jaehyun, who finally sat back in his seat after his mini freakout. Sungho swears he could see stars form in Leehan's eyes as he chewed the sweet treat.
“So y/n’s baking isn’t bad huh?” Sungho breaks the silence, Taesan barely suppresses a smirk next to him.
“Yeah!” Leehan replies enthusiastically, not quite looking up at Sungho. There was a smile that reached his eyes as he spoke, “these really remind me of these butter cookies I used to have back in Busa— wait, y/n?”
This time, Taesan actually laughs. Jaehyun looks on, confused. Leehan turns red, “Hold on... how'd you know it was from y/n?”
If he was an outsider, Sungho would think this mini interrogation was too much. But alas, what’s a little friendship without a little jabbing here and there?
Sungho shrugs and sits back in his chair, “Eh, just a little hunch.” Taesan lightly smacks Sungho's arm.
Frankly, Leehan was stunned and didn’t know what to say. So he did what any other person would do and continued to eat his little cookies and scrolled through his phone. Though the redness in his ears never really went away.
Why did he blush when Taesan and Sungho mentioned your name? I mean, the cookies were good.
“Jae, you good bro?” Taesan eyed the uncharacteristically quiet boy next to Leehan, who seemed to be staring at Leehan’s (read: your) cookies. Jaehyun looked at Taesan, then Sungho, then the cookies again before his eyes went comically wide.
“OH I GET IT NOW!” Jaehyun says a bit too enthusiastically again as he pretends to smack his head with a closed fist, eyes squinted as he finally realised why they were teasing Leehan in the first place.
Taesan couldn’t help but remain bemused as he looked at Leehan, almost apprehensive in giving Jaehyun one of his cookies.
“Hey, don’t give me that look,” Jaehyun playfully shoves Leehan, “just one cookie I promise! y/n’s your neighbour, she could probably make some for you anytime!”
“Then why haven’t they given you any, Jae?”
“Shut up, you nerd!”
———
It was a given that interior design was a pain. Yet here you are, studying interior design in university, where your budget was blown for art supplies, and throwing your pride away so you could walk down the street with unnecessarily large poster boards under your arm.
“So where are my cookies?” is the first thing you hear when you stop at the stoplight on your way back home.
“Your what now?” is your reply to Taesan, who was at the stoplight before you were. You were too checked out from a long day of classes to realise it was him standing there. You threw him an incredulous look.
“Cookies? Butter cookies? Seriously, I didn’t even know you made those. And the chocolate? You hate washing dishes and yet you decide to go the extra mile and dip the damn cookies in the chocolate.” Taesan drawls teasingly in a way that he knew pissed you off the most. You roll your eyes,
“If you’re talking about the cookies he made Leehan, then yes. I made him some damn housewarming cookies dipped in chocolate. You know, get him settled. What’s the deal?”
Taesan laughs a little as he reminisces the scene at the cafe earlier, “He brought some with him today and it was the happiest I’ve seen him. Probably ever, if I’m being real. Or maybe since he's moved here.”
You glance at Taesan before failing to suppress your laugh, “Nice try. Taesan, if you’re trying to do what I think you’re trying to do—“
“Woah, woah! Who said anything about me? I’m just relaying you… some… important information. You know, maybe... to your benefit" He stage whispers the last few words.
“What’s so important about my cookies then?” This is going nowhere. You have never wanted that damn stoplight to turn green so badly in your life.
“I got a hunch. A big one. I suggest you take my advice if you want this to go… somewhere.” And with perfect timing, the stoplight turns green and Taesan walks off.
A hunch? My cookies, neighbour, Leeha—
“Taesan!" The board under your arm almost slips when you take a step forward, " Get bac—my god, we live in the same building. Come back here!”
Taesan decided you suddenly didn’t exist when he walked off (in the most friendly way possible, of course). He pulls out his phone and texts Sungho,
‘I got a plan’
next chapter.
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witchygagirlwrites ¡ 10 days ago
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Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader
When you take a place on a task force and get hurt Mouse has to face his entire world falling down
Warnings: talks of death, gunshot wounds, suicidal ideation?
You sat in the middle of the bed in the hotel room holding your laptop across your legs as Mouse’s face came into view. A smile split your face the moment you saw him “Well hey there handsome” “Hey beautiful. How’s New York?” he asked and you sighed “Not as good as Chicago, you’re not here”
When Sergeant Benson and Erin had asked you to join the task force SVU and Erin’s team had put together for a six week operation you’d been on the fence. That was a long time in your opinion to be away from home, from Mouse and your unit but you could do some good well a lot of good. You’d hesitantly agreed with Voight’s blessing on the job front and Mouse’s blessing on the personal front. After Erin left Chicago that was his push to join the academy and as soon as he could Hank pulled him for intelligence. You loved working with him and knew he loved having his girlfriend and best friend right there at his side most days. 
He smiled “I miss you too love. You don’t have much longer and you’ll be home” you turned to get comfortable against the headboard and he grinned “Taking me to bed with you Detective?” you laughed lightly “Why yes officer Gerwitz, just don’t report me to the ivory tower. Might see it as me using the fact that I’m higher ranking than you to get you in bed” “Lucky me I say” he teased. 
You listened while he caught you up on things you’d missed in Chicago and you told him about some of the things in New York. “Promise me when I get home we don’t have to leave our apartment for like two days solid. I just want to curl up in your arms” you told him and the smile he gave you made your heart flip “How could I turn that down?” you smiled “I love you so damn much Greg” he grinned “I love you too sweetheart. Get some rest, you have another bust tomorrow. I don’t want you tired going into it” you nodded “Tell everyone I said hey. I’ll call you around noon your time” “I’ll be waiting”
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It was a little after twelve and Jay knew Mouse was getting worried even if he was trying his best not to show it. You always checked in right on time with him. When Jay’s phone rang he nearly knocked it off the desk trying to answer it and when Erin’s voice hit his ear his heart dropped to his feet “Jay?”
He hadn’t really spoken to her except via text since she’d left. You and her kept in contact regularly hence you taking the place on the task force. If she was calling him…. “Jay, are you there?” she asked and he replied “Yeah I’m here”
She took a deep breath and he heard her voice shake at the end. Something was wrong, really wrong. “Is Mouse around you?” he cut his eyes across the room where Mouse was texting you again “Yeah, you want to talk to him?” “I can’t Jay…He he doesn’t need to hear this from me” he could hear the tears in her voice “Erin what happened” he didn’t even think about the fact that he probably shouldn’t have said her name but Mouse’s eyes flew up and everyone in the room turned to look at him.
“There was..there was a perp..he had a hostage and Y/N drew the fire to herself..everything happened so damn fast…I promise you I tried to get to her…I tried to stop him..” 
Mouse stood up from his desk to walk towards Jay only to feel his entire world shift when Jay asked Erin “Is she dead?” The next few moments were the longest of his life. He could read Jay too well. He could feel his legs try to go out from under him but Kevin moved to grab his arm. “Yeah I’ll call you” Jay hung up and walked towards him.
“Is she dead Jay? Is the love of my life dead?” he asked and Jay took a deep breath “It’s bad man. You can try to get a plane but she might not make it until you land” he nodded “I’ve got to try” “I’m going with you” Jay told him, looking back at Voight who’d come out of his office and caught the  end of the phone call “Go”
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Erin sat just outside of surgery, your blood drying on her skin. She could only keep replaying those moments in her mind. The bullets tearing through your vest, how your body dropped. When she got to your side the way you’d looked at her and how scared you’d looked when you’d told her “It doesn’t hurt Erin…why doesn’t it hurt?” 
This was her fault, she’d called you onto this task force. If you died she killed her best friend. Her hand was wrapped around Mouse’s dog tags you always wore, it didn't feel right leaving them in a patient belonging bag when she knew how much they meant to you. “Tell Greg I love him” was the last words you told her before you’d lost consciousness. Your heart stopped and she’d done CPR until the ambulance got there. She only hoped it was enough.
__________________
Mouse was numb the entire plane ride. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to break down but it was like the entire world was holding its breath. His entire being needed to see you, needed to see if you were alive. He couldn’t think of a world without you in it. What was he without you? You were everything to him, the reason he was still here. The reason he’d fought to stay clean when he’d nearly slipped after getting the job at CPD. You were there helping him every step of the way. You were the one person who never got annoyed with him, never yelled at his rambling when his mind wandered.
You were the love of his life. Every thought of the future was of you. If there was no you there was no him. If you died? He had no reason to keep living. Erin had said you drew fire from a civilian, a kid that was about fourteen. That was you to your core, always saving someone even at your own expense. If he lost you, who was supposed to save him? 
When they landed in New York Sergeant Benson had uniforms waiting to take them to the hospital. You were still in surgery but at least that meant you were still alive. You were still holding on.
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“Erin!” she flinched when she heard Mouse’s voice. She glanced up and saw him and Jay walking towards her. His eyes went to her shirt, jeans and hands. “Is that her blood?” she nodded slowly “Mouse, I never meant for this to happen..” 
“I know” he whispered, eyes glued to her bloody hands. She held out his dog tags “She made me promise to tell you she loves you” Mouse took the dog tags in his hand, fingers tracing over the drying blood that he knew was yours “Erin, how bad is it?” He saw tears slip down her face as she said “She told me it didn’t hurt, she was so afraid because it didn’t hurt” he pulled her into his arms and they both finally broke sobbing against each other, one for her best friend, one for the woman he loved. Jay stood to the side not knowing how to comfort either of them.
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The surgery took a total of five and a half hours. Your insides were shredded from the bullets. When the surgeons finally walked out they asked for your family so Erin, Mouse and Jay stood up. “This is her boyfriend and best friend” Jay explained so the doctor nodded “She’s alive but in critical condition. The next twenty four hours will tell if she makes it or not. The bullets did extensive damage. We repaired what we could, it's up to her body to do the rest”
“Thank you” Jay replied knowing neither Erin or Mouse was in the shape to talk. “Can they see her?” he asked and the surgeon shook his head “I’m afraid only one visitor is permitted in ICU” 
Erin looked at Mouse “You go” he nodded “Ok” the surgeon waved him through “A nurse will show you the way”
__________________
A nurse led Mouse through the hallway to your room. When she walked him inside he froze at the foot of the bed. The body laying there didn’t even look like you. It was like you were already dead, there was no life left. Wires and tubes stuck out of you in every direction. Bandages covered every inch of your body and dried blood covered your face. 
He walked to the side of the bed, fingers lightly skimming your hand, careful of the iv. “Is there any hope for her waking up? I don’t want the sugar coated answer. This woman is everything to me” he turned to look at the nurse and saw the answer in her eyes before she ever spoke “If she wakes up sir I will believe in miracles” then turned and walked out of the room.
Mouse watched her go then looked back at you. The tube in your mouth helping you to breath making a soft noise with every inhale “They don’t know you do they baby?” he whispered, eyes filling with tears. “Wake up for me love, please? I need you, the world needs you. Please don’t leave me. It feels like I just got you. I can’t lose you now”
He knew it was probably hopeless but you’d never given up on him. He wasn’t giving up on you until the moment your heart stopped beating for good, even then he’d still love you with everything he had and probably wouldn’t be far behind. There was nothing on this earth for him if you weren’t in it.
Follow You
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propertyofushiwaka ¡ 1 year ago
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Green Eyed Monster
Tags/Warnings: oral m!receiving, mild jealousy, mention of cuckholding
a/n: missing my man a little extra today :(
Nanami was never a jealous man. He wouldn’t dream of restricting someone else’s freedoms for his own discomfort. But after you? That patient, calm man that would shrug off interactions that were a little too touchy was gone. Obliterated like it never existed. How could he bear to share the person that matters most to him? It wasn’t purely a sexual jealousy either. Each laugh, smile and light touch was something he desperately wished was only for him. He never wanted you to look at anyone else with that mirth in your eyes. Yet as he watched you speak to the new intern at work (an entirely innocent interaction), he groaned at the all too familiar yet confusing response to his jealousy: he was getting hard.
You were completely unaware of Nanami’s issue despite dating for a year and a half. As he uncomfortably walked by you and the new hire, you smiled at him as he hurried by. Weird. Assuming it was a meeting, you paid no attention to his slightly odd behavior as an increasingly flustered Nanami made his way to the bathroom.
Locking himself in a stall, he sighed as he was finally able to breathe without his trigger looming over him. He palmed his erection and groaned again. Why did you always affect him like this? Did he have a desire to fuck you in front of the intern and show who you really belong to? Maybe, but he wasn’t a possessive man. Secret cuckholding fantasy? Well that’s a new thought. He stared as he grew even harder at the thought of either scenario. “Fuck.” He whispered. He had desperately wished he would simply soften and be able to go about his business but that seemed impossible now. He took out his phone and entered the locked folder the two of you shared. As he entered the pin, the photos unblurred and he gasped softly. While the photos were nothing new, it was mesmerizing each time. He unzipped his pants and freed himself, stroking the precum over the tip with his thumb. Turning his attention back to the phone, started flipping through the photos before he found one that stood out. His personal favorite, the one he took as he was pushed to the hilt in you. There you were before him, mouth open, face flushed, hair disheveled. Blooming bruises and hickeys all over your smooth skin. You looked utterly fucked out.
He began leaking more as he spread it over the head, hissing at the sensation. Why the fuck was he so sensitive? He kept scrolling down and panicked as a video played at full volume. He practically snapped the phone in half trying to get the volume down. Thank God no one else was in the bathroom. But the sound of your moans and the squelching as he pushed into you had him dizzy. He continued to stroke himself, shirt unbuttoned, bracing himself in the stall as he desperately tried to imagine his fist was your hole. He kept replaying the sound of your moans in his head as he stroked faster, nearing his release when his phone started ringing. It was you. Stifling a groan he finished into his hand and panting, answered it with the clean one. “Yes?”
“Nanami, where are you? The intern has to shadow me the whole day apparently and I already made lunch plans with you.” Your voice had a tinge of annoyance that only he could detect. Still trying to get his breath he responded. “Sure, I’ll be right there.”
Lunch was tolerable. You sat next to Nanami to his delight, and the intern was friendly enough. About five years younger than him but knowledgeable about business. He was doing well until you teasingly asked the intern about his type. Nanami choked on his drink. “Well,” the intern responded. “I’m into intelligent women I guess, and people who are patient.” Nanami knew it was an innocent comment, he really did. But in that moment, he wished he could bend you over that table and give the intern a crystal clear view of what you were really like.
“Nanami?” Your sweet voice jarred him from his thoughts. He looked up into your eyes and fuck. He needed you. “I’ll handle the bill.” He chokes out, reaching for his wallet. “Are you sure? Because I-“ You slide the bill towards Nanami and smile at the intern. “It’s alright. We’re your seniors so we’ll cover everything.” You look at Nanami and see his hands trembling as he pays and stands up to walk you and the intern out. He was in one of his moods and you felt electricity course through your body knowing that meant for you. Taking his hand you whispered “Let’s go.”
After escorting the intern to the his car and promising to meet him back at the office, you startle as Nanami pulls your ass against him in the parking garage, his voice raspy with want, “Please, let me have you.” No more words were exchanged. Nanami quickly led you back to his Benz which you had clowned him for buying so early into his career but were now especially appreciative for. As he fumbled with the key fob you unbuttoned the top two buttons of your blouse. Finally the familiar beep is heard and you are practically thrown inside by Nanami who subsequently locks the door behind him, the tint shielding bystanders from your activity. “Kento,” you pant, looking up at his eyes full of need. “What?” He mumbles before resuming leaving hickeys all over your chest. “We need to be back at the office in 20 minutes.” He pushed his face further into you and almost whined. “How am I supposed to focus?” He placed slow kisses on your breasts, trailing up to the column of your neck, allowing you to lean into the pleasure. You weren’t particularly motivated to go back to your desk either. You move to nibble on his ear, intoxicated by his cologne. The car is tight but he moves impossibly closer and you struggle to resist him. “Kento,” You managed to breathe out. “I’ll suck you off while you drive.”
Unsure of how it happened, you found yourself placed back in your seat and Nanami revving the engine, placing his hand over the back of your seat as he reverses. You catch his eyes for a split second and shit. He is not going to make this easy.
You make quick work of his pants, pulling down the zipper and noticing how hard he is. Stroking the tip, you smirk as he hisses. “You’re that sensitive for me already?” He grits his teeth and tries to focus on making his way to the ground floor. “Maybe I already came for you today.” You stare at him and for a moment he worries he’s made a mistake. That worry is quickly replaced by a sudden gasp and you wrap your lips around his tip. He struggles to keep his hips still and eyes on the road as your tongue lolls around the head, licking up the clear, salty pre he kept leaking.
Nanami’s eyes begin to glaze and he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back, opting to place one hand on your head and grip your hair. A man too proud to whimper or moan settling for gritted teeth and grunts. You’re determined to break his pride one way or another. Placing your hand around the base, you squeeze slightly, opting for a featherlight touch. He hisses, a good sign. You suck harder, moving your mouth slowly downwards, taking each inch of him at a time. You can’t see it but his eyes are glassy from the sensation. He could never let you see how undone he was so he made a right turn and accidentally hit a pothole, forcing his dick all the way in, gagging you in the process. So that’s how he wants to play this. You take your attention off his dick and opt to take his balls into his mouth and there it is. He whimpers, it’s brief and choked but you swore you heard it. So you suck harder, stroking his dick and pumping your hand at a gradually increasing pace. He growls and swears but no sign of that lighter, sweeter sound he had given only a moment ago. You’d have to try something else.
You stop touching him altogether and you watch him practically deflate as you wait at the stoplight. Touching his jaw you whisper in his ear “I will break you.” He shudders ever so slightly and oh if he only knew what was about to come. You take his tip in your mouth again, the warmth making him close his eyes before the car behind him honks and he’s jolted from the pleasure. The car goes through the intersection and you take him deeper. Sucking him up and down you place a hand on his thighs and brace yourself as his grip on your head tightens. He’s close, but you’ve barely heard him and you’re determined to fix it. You’re already pressing your nose to his thigh and he can go no deeper but you aren’t to be stopped so easily. Widening your jaw, you suck his balls into your mouth and swirl it with your tongue and there it is. The sound you had been craving. His voice breaks in his throat and the high pitched whimper is a stark contrast to his low, composed baritone. His hand moves to your throat and you feel his balls tighten. A few more breaking whimpers as he turns into the parking lot and you feel him twitch in your mouth. You attempt to mumble out his name and the vibrations of your voice send him over the edge. His voice breaks on a swear and your mouth is painted white, it overflows as you try to swallow it all down. It drips down your chin and onto his balls, which you make quick work of as he parks the car. You lick and suck him through his orgasm as he strokes your hair. Your tongue goes up and down his shaft removing any trace of indecency. Pulling off him with one final suck he pulls you to him and kisses you gently, breathing heavily. You might still be unaware of his jealousy issue, but it manages to work in his favor for now
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cheesesoda ¡ 2 years ago
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I wish I was your boyfriend too.
rookie!leon x detective!reader
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not my gif obvs^^^
genre: fluff fluff fluff
cw: drinking? not in a violent way or anything tho
summary: leon’s got a crush he is convinced is unrequited but after a night of drinking, he’s led to believe otherwise.
part 2 is out!! linked here
“alright rookie, and here is your desk.” chris sighs as he finishes the tour of the station. “thanks, officer redfield.” leon smiles. “just chris.” he replies. “chris.” leon echoes. “you’ll be partnered with an officer for the rest of the week so you can get into the groove of things. lucky you, you’re partnered with our head detective.” chris smirks. “ah, speak of the devil.” a woman with h/l h/c hair and deep e/c eyes approaches the two men. “l/n!” chris calls to her. oh fuck. please no. leon thinks to himself. she was so pretty, he wouldn’t be able to think or focus around her. please don’t let her be my guide. “hey chris,” she grins at the officer. “is this the new guy i’m showing around?” please don’t say yes please don’t say yes please don’t sa- “he sure is!” fuck. “i’m y/n l/n, head detective. nice to meet you…?” y/n trails off. “oh- uh- leon kennedy. nice to meet you too, miss l/n- i mean, detective l/n-“ he stammers but she just laughs. “y/n.” she says and he repeats her name again. the way it rolled off his tongue satisfied him.
a year later…
leon had been working at the RPD for a year now and it didn’t get much easier being around y/n. she was kind, brave, nurturing, and intelligent, but she made him so nervous. he liked her. he liked her a LOT. his heart fluttered when he’d think about her and the unlikely event that she felt the same for him. why would she though? he knew it was stupid to think she could ever like a dork like him. “hey, leon!” y/n called over to his desk. “wanna come get drinks tonight?” she asked. “oh- i probably shouldn’t-“ he said. “please?~ it’ll be fun!” she begs. how could he say no to that? “fine.” he grumbled. “yay! thanks, leon!” she cheered, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, accidentally rubbing his face in her boobs in the process (not that he minded).
later that night…
“shut up, chriz!” y/n slurred, giggling to herself. “another round, pleazeee!” she calls to the bartender. “i think you’ve had enough, y/n.” chris slurs, chuckling as well. “shh shh shhhhhhh!” she puts her fingers to her lips lazily. “how many have you had, y/n?” leon asks. “juzt a *hic* feeewwww!” she giggles. “try 7” jill retorts. “holy shit, you’re wasted.” leon says, shock evident on his face. the drinks arrive and before y/n can reach it, leon pushes it out of her reach. “leonnnnnn!” she pouts. “no, we should get you home.” he says. “ughhh! fiiine! bye guyzzzz!” she calls to the rest of the team as leon holds her up.
he hails a taxi and they both get in. they remain silent and he suddenly feels a weight on his shoulder. he looks over to see the detective taking a nap on his shoulder. he blushes but doesn’t move her.
when they finally reach her apartment complex, he helps her up to her apartment. he helps her open her front door and sits her down on her bed. as he’s taking off her heels for her, she lays down. he gets out some shorts and a shirt for her and lays them next to her. “change into these, y/n.” he says softly. “hehe okay, officer~” she sighs and begins to unzip her dress, letting it slink down her shoulders. he immediately turns around. “after i leave!” he stutters. she stands up and walks in front of him, now only left in her bra and underwear. “don’t you wanna see me naked though?” she pouts. he swears he is on the verge of exploding right there. “no!” he exclaims, covering his eyes. “you don’t wanna see me naked?” she says, her voice sounding betrayed. “n-no, i do!” he stammers. “oh~ you do?” her flirtatious voice rings. “no! i- i mean yes- i mean- fuck! i-“ he stutters and she laughs before walking away to put on the clothes. it takes her a while due to her drunken state. “done?” leon asks. “mmmhmm.” she confirms sleepily. he turns around and she’s still sitting on the bed, now in the shorts and shirt. “good night, y/n.” he says after he tucks her into bed. “thank you, leon.” she yawns. she looks so cute like this, he thinks to himself. “you’re so good to me.” she whispers, closing her eyes. his stomach flutters. “wish you were my boyfriend…” she sighs. oh. his face bursts into flames. when he doesn’t respond, she opens her eyes again and looks at him. “y’so sweet.” she caresses her hand against his cheek. “so respectful. so cute, with your fluffy hair and your cute lips.” she giggles and strokes her fingers on his lips. “i always wanna kiss ‘em.” she smiles. he cannot take this anymore. “you’re drunk.” he says. “no, m’not” she mumbles. “good night, y/n.” he says again, walking to the door. “g’night, leon. love you.” she mutters against her pillow. he closes her door when he leaves her room and sighs against it. that’s when he hears the thunder. he looks out the window to see pouring rain. fuck. surely she wouldn’t mind if he just crashed on her couch, right?
he lays on the couch and listens to the thunder and rain outside. a million thoughts roam his mind—all of them y/n. what the fuck was she saying? did she mean it? no, surely it was just the alcohol talking. but they do say drunk words are sober thoughts. all this thinking was hurting his head. he didn’t sleep much that night.
the next morning…
“leon?” y/n’s raspy morning voice fills his ears. what does he say to her now?
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onechicagolife ¡ 8 days ago
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ABSENTIA | JAY HALSTEAD
Detective Jay Halstead is a senior member of the Intelligence Unit, where he is partnered with Detective Hailey Upton after his former partner went missing undercover. While he never wanted to give up hope, the CPD assumed her dead and he was resigned to accept it. Now, two years later, Jay gets a sudden phone call with news that changes his life forever. Avery Clarke is alive. want to be tagged? link in bio <3
Chapter 15
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Jay rounds the corner to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down his movements as he drags a hand down his face. The last few nights have blurred together—hours spent in his truck with Avery, watching and waiting. They haven’t seen Nikolai again since that first night, which he’s not sure is a good or bad thing. Bad for their investigation, yes. But he couldn’t deny Avery’s reaction when she saw him for the first time. The way she completely froze, her shoulders tensing and her breaths quickening.
The cruelest part was that when Jay asked about it, she refused to tell him anything. And that every time he looks at her, he still feels everything. Being with her feels overwhelmingly familiar, too much like how it used to be. Because she sits back in the seat with her feet thrown up, she steals his coffee without thinking. She pushes his buttons, challenges him in the best and worst ways.
He knows he shouldn’t be spending so much time with her. He tells himself that he has to, even though he knows it’s not fair to Hailey. Knows it’s wrong that every night, as he sits in the freezing car with Avery, he doesn’t want to leave. That despite the anger, the confusion, the betrayal—he feels more like himself than he has in a long time.
Pulling his keys from his pocket, Jay lifts his head and his stomach drops. Hailey is leaning against the wall outside his door, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her ponytail sways slightly as she straightens at the sight of him, and the look on her face—anger barely concealing hurt—makes his breath hitch. Dinner.
He exhales sharply, quickening his steps as guilt settles heavy in his chest, “Shit, Hailey, I’m sorry.”
Her expression doesn’t change. “I called you,” Hailey says flatly.
His fingers tighten around his keys, “My phone died.” Lie. He turned it off.
She scoffs, shaking her head as she pushes off the wall. He sees the way her eyes glisten under the dim hallway light, the way her jaw tenses as she turns to leave. Panic flares in his chest. “Wait.” He reaches out, catching her wrist gently, just enough to stop her, “Just… come inside. Please.”
Hailey hesitates. For a second, he thinks she’s going to walk away. Maybe she should. Maybe he should let her.
Reluctantly, her feet stay rooted in place as he unlocks the door and opens it. He stands in the doorway, waiting for her with hopeful eyes. After a few moments, and against her better judgement, she steps inside.
Jay closes the door behind them, lingering for a second before he turns to face her. He barely gets his jacket off before she whirls on him.
“Where have you been?”
His shoulders sag. He should have known she’d cut right to it. “I’m sorry I forgot about dinner,” he says weakly, knowing full well that it isn’t good enough.
“That’s not an answer,” her voice rises slightly, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You’ve been blowing me off all week. You disappear after work, you don’t answer my calls or texts. You come in every morning looking like you haven’t slept. What the hell is going on with you?”
Jay rubs a hand over his face, already exhausted by this conversation. “I’m—”
“Don’t say you’re sorry,” she cuts him off harshly. “And don’t say you’ve been with Voight.” Hailey takes a deep breath, her anger cracking just slightly under something more vulnerable. Her voice is quieter as she forces out the next words, “Just tell me if you were with Avery.”
He hesitates. It’s only for a second, but it’s enough to make her eyes harden. “It’s not what you think,” Jay says quickly, trying to reassure her that he would never.
She crosses her arms tighter, her nails digging into her skin. She didn’t think he was cheating, not really. She knows him well enough to know that. “Then what is it?”
His jaw clenches. He doesn’t know what to say. He knows she deserves to hear the truth, but he can’t bring himself to say it. “Hailey,” he swallows, “I can’t.”
“That’s bullshit,” she snaps, her voice rising again. “You don’t get to pull the ‘I can’t talk about it’ card with me. I’m your partner, Jay. I’m your girlfriend. You’re shutting me out, and I deserve to know why.”
His mind races, eyes desperately searching her face for some—any—hint of understanding. “I can’t tell you,” Jay settles on with a helpless half-shrug. “You just have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” Hailey laughs—a bitter, broken sound—and narrows her eyes. “Do you even hear yourself?” When he doesn’t say anything, it only takes a few moments before realization washes over her. She lets out a disbelieving breath, “You’ve been helping her investigate Volkov.”
The way Jay tightens his jaw and clenches his hands into fists at his sides is confirmation enough.
“Jesus, Jay,” she shakes her head with a scoff. Hailey starts pacing, running both hands over her hair. “Do you even realize what you’re doing? You’re putting your career—your life—on the line.”
“I’m not putting my life on the line,” he says defensively.
“You’re lying to me,” she yells at him. “You’re lying to Voight. You’re impeding a federal investigation. All for her.”
Jay flinches at her words, guilt and anger swirling in his chest. “It’s not that simple. She’s my—” he cuts himself off, the words dying in his throat. He swallows hard as the air between them thickens. They both know what he was about to say. She’s my partner.
Hailey stares at him, something breaking in her expression. She squares her shoulders, trying to hold herself together even as her voice wavers. “You know, I’ve tried to be supportive. I’ve tried to be understanding. But I’m not going to sit here while you lie to my face. I’m not going to sit here and pretend.”
He blinks, knowing that this conversation is going somewhere he doesn’t want, but he can’t stop it. “Pretend?”
She exhales shakily, bringing up a hand to quickly swipe away the tears she is so stubbornly trying to keep at bay. “You were shot,” her voice trembles slightly, but she forces it to steady. “You were laying there, and I was holding your hand. You said her name.” She closes her eyes as the memories wash over her. “I tried to convince myself that I heard it wrong. But I didn’t. And I know that you know I heard it. And you still haven’t explained why.”
The air seems to leave the room, and for a moment, Jay can’t bring himself to look at her. His mind flashes back to that moment. His throat tightens as he finally meets her gaze. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about her,” he admits even as it kills him, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t stop thinking about her.”
The words hang heavy between them, and Hailey’s breath hitches. She blinks rapidly, trying to process what he just said. “So, what? You’re still in love with her?”
Jay inhales sharply at the question. He wants to tell her no. He wants to tell her he loves her, that she’s the one he wants. But he can’t. “I don’t know,” he says finally, his voice breaking. “But I know she needs me right now and I can’t…” I can’t leave her. I can’t say no to her. I can’t let her be alone again. “I have to help her.”
Hailey nods slowly, like she expected that answer but hoped she was wrong. “I love you, Jay,” she whispers, her face crumbling as fresh tears well in her eyes. “And I thought—” she stops herself, shaking her head as a tear slips down her cheek. She doesn’t bother wiping it away.
His chest tightens, heartbeat pounding loudly in his head, “Hailey, I care about y—”
“Don’t,” she cuts him off, stepping back. “You can’t have both.”
The words cut deep. Jay opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her. But he can’t lie anymore. To himself, maybe. But not to her.
Her lips tighten into a thin line as she tilts her head, nodding slowly. “I’m done.”
He doesn’t stop her as she turns and walks toward the door, her footsteps echoing in the quiet apartment. He can’t bring himself to, no matter how much he wishes he could. When the door clicks shut behind her, the sound feels final as it echoes throughout the apartment.
Jay sinks onto the couch, elbows braced on his knees as his head falling into his hands. He knows Hailey had every right to walk away. He can’t even blame her. And he’s left wondering how the hell he got here.
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After hesitating for just a moment, Jay walked towards Voight’s office. He stopped in the open doorway, eyes bouncing between his sergeant and the other man in the room. His hands clenched so tightly where they hung at his sides that his knuckles ached. He had been called in without much explanation—just a simple order to come in from Voight. The urgency in his voice made his stomach churn with unease. And now, seeing Chief Lugo standing beside the desk Voight sat behind made his pulse quicken unnaturally.
“Jay,” Voight started gruffly. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something dark, something resigned. “Take a seat.”
“I’m good.” His bosses exchanged a wary glance. Jay narrowed his eyes, “What’s going on?”
Voight didn’t speak at first, just cast another look towards the chief before sighing heavily. He opened a manila folder in front of him and pushed it forward on the desk.
Jay took a step and a half forward. Inside was a single, grainy photograph that made his stomach twist violently. It was a surveillance shot—a woman being dragged into a warehouse by two armed men. The image was blurry, the lighting terrible, but the height, the build, the hair—it was all too familiar. “Where did this come from?” he demanded.
Lugo spoke this time, his voice even, measured. “The FBI received this from one of their sources inside the Volkov organization. The timestamp places it three months ago.”
His breath stilled. Three months ago. Avery had already been missing for six. That meant she wasn’t killed on the spot like everyone else feared—she was taken alive. She was out there. Jay forced himself to focus, pulling himself away from the memories of that day. That day when he was too late. “So, what the hell are we doing sitting here? We finally have a lead, we go after it—”
Lugo held up a hand, stopping him cold. “The intel didn’t stop there.”
His heart pounded as Lugo flipped to the next page in the folder.
Unidentified female remains recovered from a Volkov warehouse overseas. Burned beyond recognition. No DNA match found.
Jay shook his head, immediately rejecting it. “No. No, that’s not proof. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Jay—” Voight started, his voice low.
“No.” He pushed the folder roughly across the desk, breathing hard as his chest tightened. “We’ve been through this before, and every single time, it’s led nowhere. You don’t have a body, you don’t have DNA, you don’t have—”
“The FBI is taking over the investigation into Volkov from Major Crimes. The brass agrees that the evidence is conclusive,” Lugo interrupted, his voice final. “Detective Clarke was likely killed while undercover. The case is being closed.”
The word rang in his ear, and his entire world stopped spinning. Closed. No. No.
He turned to Voight, his eyes pleading. “We don’t… we can’t just stop,” his voice cracked, barely managing to get the words out.
Voight held his gaze for a long moment, and that was when Jay knew. The fight had already been lost. The lines on Voight’s face looked deeper, heavier, and for the first time since Avery disappeared, there was defeat in his eyes. Even after Justin, he still hung onto the hope that his other child was still alive. But that hope was gone.
“It’s over,” Voight said quietly.
No. His breath came in short, shallow bursts, his hands trembling at his sides. Jay shook his head, refusing to accept it. “No. No, you don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to just—just declare her dead without proof.” His voice broke, rage bleeding through the cracks.
“Detective—” Lugo started.
“No, fuck that!” Jay slammed his hands onto the desk, the sound echoing through the office. His entire body was shaking. “You don’t get to make this call! She’s out there, she’s waiting for us to find her, and we’re just—we’re just giving up?” His voice bordered on hysteria as he looked towards Voight in disbelief, “You’re just gonna let this happen? After everything—after Justin? You’re just going to let them give up on her?”
Voight’s breath hitched in his throat as he blinked, barely managing to hold himself together. He never allowed himself to break before, and he won’t do it now. He can’t. Chief Lugo’s jaw tightened as he cut in, “This isn’t giving up, Halstead. This is the reality.”
Jay let out a sharp, bitter laugh, taking a half-step back in a desperate need to distance himself before he lost control. Reality. The word felt like poison in his mouth. Nothing about this felt real. “You don’t know her,” he spat. “You don’t know Avery. She’s a fighter. She wouldn’t just let them—” he stopped himself, unable to say the words. Wouldn’t just let them kill her.
Chief Lugo sighed, straightening, “I understand the nature of your relationship to her. I know this is difficult to hear, but the department is making it official. Detective Clarke is being ruled as killed in the line of duty.”
His breath hitched and he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. This was it. This was the end. The fight left him all at once. His shoulders sagged, his knees suddenly weak, and for a moment, he thought he might actually collapse. He turned to Voight, his last hope. His voice was wrecked, desperate, “Hank.”
Voight’s face was etched with something almost like guilt. When he finally spoke, it was low and final. “It’s time to let her go.”
Something inside Jay broke. A sound tore from his throat—a ragged, guttural noise of sheer devastation—and he turned sharply, storming out of the office. He didn’t see where he was going. Didn’t feel the burn in his throat, the pressure behind his eyes, the way his chest was imploding in on itself.
All he knew was that he had to get out. Had to breathe. Had to escape the words still ringing in his head, threatening to tear down his entire world.
How the hell is he supposed to let her go? The woman he loved. The only woman he ever loved. She was gone. She couldn’t be gone. Jay picked up speed before bursting through one of the stalls just in time to hunch over the toilet, knees hitting the tile with a painful, sickening crack. His body convulsed as he gripped the porcelain with white-knuckled hands, waves of nausea wracking through him. His stomach clenched painfully, but there was nothing left to bring up. His breath came in ragged gasps, each one sharper than the last. His head was spinning, his vision blurring, the fluorescent lights overhead too bright, too harsh.
He felt like he was suffocating. Drowning.
The stall walls felt like they were closing in, pressing down on him and squeezing the air from his lungs. His entire body trembled as he sat back on his heels, his arms bracing against the sides of the stall. The cold tile bit into his knees, grounding him in a reality he desperately wanted to reject.
Avery was dead.
Voight believed it.
Chief Lugo signed off on it.
Major Crimes, the FBI—they all believed it.
The weight of it crashed down on him again, harder, heavier. A low, guttural sound ripped from his chest, something between a sob and a scream, raw and uncontained.
Six months of searching. Of fighting. Of holding onto hope—thin, fragile, fleeting hope—only for it to be ripped away in an instant.
He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He couldn’t breathe. Every inhale was a battle, every exhale a painful reminder that he was still here—and she wasn’t.
He could still hear her voice, so clear that it was as if she was sitting right beside him.
Well, it really is your lucky day, Halstead. Avery Clarke. Your new partner.
His throat closed up, another sob tearing through him. A thousand moments, a thousand memories flooded his mind, each one sharper, more painful than the last. He saw her everywhere. Heard her everywhere.
But she was gone.
A sudden burst of anger surged through him, cutting through the grief like a blade. His hands shook as he pushed himself up from the floor, his vision darkening at the edges from the force of his rage.
His fist flew before he could stop it. The bathroom mirror shattered on impact. Glass shards scattered across the counter, some embedding in his knuckles, but he barely felt the sting. His reflection was fractured, fragmented—just like him. He stared at it, his chest heaving, his pulse hammering in his ears as the blood dripped down his fingers, warm and sticky.
This wasn’t real.
This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be real.
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The sky is still gray, the Chicago winter settling in thick and heavy as Jay pulls into the district parking lot. His truck rumbles to a stop, the engine ticking in protest as he cuts the ignition. He stays there for a moment, gripping the wheel with both hands, staring blankly at the brick wall in front of him.
He’s running on fumes. The sleepless nights, the weight of Hailey walking out, the relentless gnawing in his chest whenever he thinks about Avery—it’s all catching up to him. His body is sore, barely recovered, and his mind is wrecked. He doesn’t even want to think about what he is going to face when he walks in that building. And yet, somehow, the idea of stopping isn’t even an option.
Not when she still needs him.
With a heavy sigh, he grabs his gym bag from the passenger seat, shoving open the door and stepping into the biting cold. His breath clouds in front of him, but the crisp air does nothing to clear his head. He’s barely made it a few steps when he hears the familiar rumble of another engine pulling in. Jay glances up just as Voight’s black SUV rolls into a nearby spot. The older man climbs out, pulling his coat tighter against the wind, his sharp gaze landing on Jay instantly.
They both hesitate for a beat. A silent acknowledgment.
Jay sighs, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows what’s coming.
“You look like hell,” Voight remarks, shutting his door with a solid thud.
He huffs out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… it’s been a rough few weeks.”
Voight studies him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, instead of making his way to the door, he jerks his chin toward the entrance on the other side of the lot. “Walk with me.”
He exhales through his nose, knowing there’s no getting out of this. Jay falls into step beside the older man, their boots crunching lightly against the frost-dusted pavement. The silence stretches, bordering on uncomfortable as the cold air wraps around them.
Jay knows Voight isn’t the kind of guy to push, but when he speaks, his voice is steady, carrying that same unshakable authority he always has. “She told me.”
He doesn’t react right away, treading carefully. He keeps his gaze forward, hands still shoved into his pockets, “About what?”
“About you helping her,” Voight nods slightly. “About the deposit box.”
His jaw tightens. He shouldn’t be surprised but knowing what that secret cost him, that he lied to Hailey, makes his stomach twist in anger. “She wasn’t supposed to—”
“Relax,” Voight cuts him off, his voice calm but firm. “I’m not going to stop you.”
Jay frowns, glancing over at him. “You’re not?”
Voight gives a small shrug, “If I wanted to stop you, I would’ve done it already.”
He scoffs, shaking his head, “Then what? You’re just gonna let me keep breaking all the rules for her?” Maybe he wants Voight to stop them. To force him to walk away. Because he knows he’ll never do it on his own.
Voight stops walking, turning to face him fully and stopping him with a hand on his chest. “I’m here to make sure you don’t lose yourself in this.” His gaze is steady, unwavering. “You’ve been through a lot lately.”
Jay swallows hard, looking away. He exhales sharply, his breaths visible in the cold air. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore, Voight.”
Voight nods, like he’s been expecting that, “I know.”
He lets out a bitter chuckle, running a hand over his face. “I mean, jesus. I thought she was dead. And it took a while, but I made peace with that. And now she’s back, and it’s like—” he stops himself, shaking his head as frustration boils over. “Like I don’t even know her anymore.”
 “She’s been through hell, Jay,” the older man says after a beat of silence, “You know that.”
“What about what I’ve been through? What she put me through?” Jay lets out a sharp exhale, staring at the pavement, trying to keep his emotions under control because it is too damn early for this. “I’m trying to be there for her,” he mutters. “But it’s not that simple.”
“No, it’s not,” he agrees. “But nothing worth a damn ever is.”
Jay stares at him, his eyes dark with something unreadable. “She lied to me.”
“I know.”
“She let me believe she was gone. She didn’t give me a choice. Didn’t give us a choice.”
“I know,” Voight repeats, his voice steady.
Jay shakes his head, “And now she’s asking me to risk everything to help her with this.”
But Voight doesn’t flinch, “She’s not asking you to do anything she wouldn’t do for you.”
“That’s not the point,” he snaps, his frustration finally breaking through. Even though he knows it’s true, knows they’ve already been here before. Derek Keyes, Lonnie Rodiger, Terry, Ellie… She backed his play without question, without a second thought, whenever he needed it. She jumped in feet first, and he didn’t even have to ask. He takes a step back, raking a hand through his hair. “I can’t forgive her for what she did, Voight.”
Voight studies him carefully, his next words measured. “You’re angry. And you should be. But that anger isn’t just about what she did.” He pauses, letting it sink in, “It’s about how much you still care about her in spite of it.”
The heavy truth in the statement is too much and Jay has to look away, clenching his jaw.
“I know what you went through when we lost her,” Voight takes a step towards him. “I saw what it did to you. And I know you’re still carrying that with you. If anyone understands, you know I do.” A haunted look flickers in his eyes, memories of Justin and Alvin threatening to swallow him whole.
Jay swallows hard—two years of emptiness, of staring at an empty grave that shouldn’t exist, of drinking himself into numbness just to get through the night. “She’s not the same,” he murmurs. His voice is quieter now, tinged with something almost vulnerable. “She’s… harder. Colder. She refuses to let me in. And I don’t know how to reach her.”
Voight exhales, nodding slowly. “I know she’s different. And so are you.” He holds his gaze, “But if anyone can get through to her, it’s you.”
Jay lets out a sharp breath, shaking his head, “Why?” Why does it have to be me?
Voight’s voice is unwavering, “Because she trusts you. Because you know her better than anyone.”
Jay stiffens. His throat tightens, his stomach twisting in protest. He wants to argue, wants to deny it. The words are on the tip of his tongue. Not anymore… But they don’t come out. Because maybe, just maybe, Voight isn’t wrong.
He looks down, his hands curling into fists in his pockets, “I don’t know if I can do this, Hank.”
“You can.” His voice is gentler, in that gruff, Voight way as he claps a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring, “And you will. Because she needs you. And whether you want to admit it or not… you need her too.”
He stands there, frozen, as the words sink in. Jay doesn’t know where he and Avery stand. Doesn’t know if there’s a way forward. But as he watches Voight walk inside the garage, his words echo in his head.
Because she needs you. And you need her too.
Jay exhales, his breath shaky. Then, finally, he heads inside.
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The locker room is quiet, a stark contrast to the usual chaos of the district. Jay leans against the metal bench, head tilted back against the cool lockers as he lets out a slow, controlled breath. He should be at his desk. He should be doing something productive, catching up on paperwork. Instead, he’s here, hiding.
Avoiding.
It’s been like this for days. Ever since Hailey left his apartment, ever since their relationship officially crashed and burned. Every second between them is tense and awkward, leaving him wishing he was anywhere else. And when they aren’t forced to be interacting for work, he can feel her gaze watching him. Studying his every move, every interaction. And Avery? That’s been worse.
She hasn’t done anything wrong. No probing questions, no comments, no knowing looks. Nothing. She’s just there, in his space, existing like things are supposed to be normal when nothing is. And even though it shouldn’t, even though he should be more affected by the dooming of his relationship, that kills him more than anything.
Because of that, he’s been keeping his distance at work, making sure their conversations stay short. Professional. But it doesn’t matter. He can feel his partner’s eyes on him whenever Avery’s near, can see the tension ripple through her every time he and Avery so much as breathe in the same direction.
And now? The guilt is suffocating.
So he’s here, in the goddamn locker room, hiding like a coward.
The door creaks open, and he immediately straightens. He’s not sure who he expects, fearing it’ll be Hailey with another conversation he’s not ready for, fearing she’ll tell him that their partnership is over too. But instead, Adam strolls in, his expression casual but his movements deliberate.
“Got a minute?” Adam asks lightly, but there’s an edge behind it.
Jay narrows his eyes, already bracing himself for whatever’s coming. “Yeah.”
Adam doesn’t sit. He stands across from him, arms crossed, lips pressing into a thin line before cutting straight to it. “What’s going on with you and Avery?”
Shaking his head with an eye roll and a scoff, he stands and moves to root around inside his locker. “What are you talking about, man?”
“You drove her to work this morning,” the younger man says with an unimpressed eyebrow raised.
“She had a migraine last night and didn’t want to drive, so I gave her a ride home,” he lies without skipping a beat. The reality is that they left straight from work to spend the night in his truck, watching the warehouse for any sign of Nikolai Volkov, both of them pretending the distance between them wasn’t getting growing with every second of silence.
Adam eyes him, his protective side outweighing anything else. He can’t stand to see his best friend get hurt when she is just barely finding her footing. But he can see how much it’s killing her. He lets out a long sigh, “Look, I get it. I know it must’ve hurt when she wanted me to be her partner and asked for some space. I know you want to be friends. But if this is going to mess with her head—”
“Mess with her head?” Jay cuts him off, his voice rising slightly as he turns to face him. “I don’t need a lecture from you of all people.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, annoyed at whatever implication lingers in the air.
Jay tilts his head, gritting his teeth painfully. He wonders just how much he can push this, how far he can stretch the lie in order to get the truth. “She told me what happened between you two,” he says carefully, baiting.
Stiffening, his eyes flicker with surprise for a brief moment before he schools his expression. She said she wasn’t going to, but maybe she changed her mind once he decided to tell Kim, wanting a clean slate as they try to make their relationship work. Adam narrows his eyes, “She told you?”
“Yeah.” His jaw clenches, knowing by the reaction that he was right to suspect something happened between them. “So don’t sit here and act like you’re just her protective big brother.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Adam shakes his head defensively, his frustration mounting.
Jay crosses his arms tightly over his chest, “Then what was it like?”
“It was,” he hesitates, “complicated.”
He throws his head back, barking out a humorless laugh. “Complicated? Kim’s having your kid, and the best you can do is complicated?”
Temper flaring, Adam grits out, “It was one time. It was right after she came back, we were drinking—”
“That makes it better?” he shoots back with a step forward.
“Look,” his patience snaps, voice rising, “she needed someone. Someone who actually gave a damn about her when she was falling apart. Where the hell were you?”
The words nearly knock him off his feet, and Jay stops breathing for a moment. His hands curl into fists, because he can’t think about that. He can barely stomach the guilt he is already feeling. So instead, he focuses on the pure anger that threatens to overtake him at the image that flashes behind his eyes. “So, you—what? Decided to help her with your dick?”
Adam’s face darkens, his fists twitching at his sides. “Oh, fuck off, Halstead. You weren’t there. You didn’t see how broken she was seeing that you moved on.” His voice lowers, but the intensity remains. “So yeah, I was there for her. Not for some hookup. Not for whatever bullshit you think this is. But because I actually care about her. And maybe if you weren’t lying to yourself, wrapped up in your own guilt, you’d see that too.”
The jealousy, the frustration, the anger—it all collides, white-hot and uncontrollable as the words are like a match to gasoline. Jay doesn’t think. His fist collides with Adam’s jaw before he even realizes it. The impact reverberates through his arm, fingers flexing at the dull ache already forming.
Adam stumbles back, his hand flying to his face. His eyes blaze with fury as he whirls back around. “Bro, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he shouts, shoving the other man’s chest roughly.
“Hey!” Avery’s voice slices through the air, her footsteps echoing as she storms into the room. “What the hell is going on in here?”
Both men freeze, their heavy breathing filling the silence as Avery moves between them without hesitation, her eyes darting between their tense, furious faces. Her gaze locks on Jay, narrowing as she takes in the flush on his face and the way his fist is still clenched. “Did you punch him?” she demands sharply.
Jay doesn’t answer, his jaw tightening as he finally breaks away from Adam’s glare. But he can’t look at her, can’t see what he knows is in her waiting eyes.
Already knowing the answer, Avery scoffs before rounding on her partner. “And you—what did you say to him?”
Adam rubs his jaw, moving it back and forth gently. “Nothing he didn’t deserve.”
She groans in frustration, running a hand through her hair, fingers getting caught in the tangles. “Unbelievable. You two are supposed to be professionals, friends, and you’re in here fighting like children. Over what? Me?”
When Adam opens his mouth, she places a strong hand against his chest with a light shove that forces him a half-step back, and Jay tries to hide the fact that he notices. “I don’t need you to defend my honor,” she chastises, only turning away when he lowers his head sheepishly. Avery narrows her eyes at Jay, “What is your problem?”
Jay’s eyes finally snap to hers, his frustration and jealousy lingering below the surface. He grits his teeth, his pulse still pounding with the low hum of adrenaline. He knows this isn’t about Adam. Not really. It’s about… everything. The distance, reminding him that he doesn’t know her anymore. The nights spent in his truck, twisting him into thinking that no time has passed. The way she keeps looking at him like they didn’t leave each other in pieces. Like she didn’t leave him in pieces, shattered like that blood-smeared glass.
Clearing his throat, Adam’s voice is quieter now, more resigned. “I’m gonna go.” He throws Avery one last glance before turning and walking out, his footsteps heavy as the door clicks shut behind him.
Avery doesn’t take her eyes off Jay, her frustration crackling in the stale air. “I told you to stop making this about Adam,” she seethes. “You don’t get to pick fights with him just because you’re pissed at me.”
“You really think this is about Adam?” he asks, voice low and rough as he takes a step toward her. She folds her arms, but there’s something else in her eyes now. Wariness. Hurt. A challenge lingers, though, and Jay huffs out a bitter laugh when she just arches a brow, shaking his head before dragging a hand over his face. “You really don’t get it, do you?
“Then enlighten me,” she bites out quickly. She thought they were over this. That they were moving forward—or at least settling into something more tenable, an understanding that they could co-exist in.
He takes another step closer, the heat between them palpable, the space between them charged with everything they still haven’t said. “You come back from the dead, and you act like I’m the one who changed,” he grits out. “Like I’m the problem. You push me away, tell me we need distance, and then what? Drag me back in like this is some kind of game?”
She flinches, just barely, but it’s enough for him to see it. “You think I planned that?” Avery snaps, stepping toe to toe, pretending like she isn’t afraid. Not of him, no. But of them—the two of them, together. “You think I wanted to wake up in a hospital bed with two years of my life missing?”
His jaw clenches impossibly tight, the pain somehow grounding him. “Then why the hell have you spent every second since you came back acting like I’m the one who left you?” Her breath hitches audibly, but Jay doesn’t stop. He can’t. He’s done holding this in. “You chose Adam as your partner. You kept your distance. It took days for you to come see me when I almost died, and then you just walked out,” he spits out, his voice breaking. “And now you want to act like I’m the bad guy? When I’m still putting everything on the line to help you?”
Deafening silence stretches between them, heavy and suffocating. Her lips press into a tight line, her hands clenching at her sides. “You think this has been easy for me?” she finally whispers, her voice shaking. “I know what I did, the choices I made. But I didn’t choose to have my entire life ripped away from me.”
His chest tightens as tears well in her eyes, “Avery…”
“No, you don’t get to be the victim here,” she says, voice raw, stepping even closer until there’s barely a breath between them. “You didn’t have to wake up in a nightmare. You didn’t have to piece together a past you don’t even remember. You didn’t have to see the man you—” she stops herself, sucking in a shaky breath before continuing. “The man you thought was still yours, standing in the hallway, holding someone else’s hand.”
His throat goes dry at the realization. She saw him. She woke up confused and hurt. And instead of opening her eyes to him at her side, she saw him with Hailey.
“I woke up like it was one day,” Avery’s voice breaks.
His hands tremble at his sides as he swallows roughly, “Ave.”
Her face twists, her walls slamming back into place. “You want to be mad at me? Fine. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re the only one who got hurt.”
Jay looks away, his jaw tight as he forces himself to breathe. She’s right. Of course she’s right. But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
“You should go,” she mutters, stepping back in desperate need of space. “Before we say something we can’t take back.”
But Jay doesn’t move.
He should. He knows he should.
Instead, he does something stupid.
He reaches out.
His fingers brush against her wrist, and she sucks in a sharp breath, her entire body going still. Her pulse beats wildly under his fingertips, and for a second—just a second—she lets him hold on.
Then she yanks her arm away like he’s burned her.
“This isn’t fair,” Avery whispers, voice barely audible.
Jay swallows hard, “No. It’s not.”
She takes another step back, putting real distance between them now. “We can’t keep doing this.” I can’t keep doing this.
He exhales slowly as something twists in his stomach. A heavy, overwhelming sense of dread. Finally, he nods, “I know.”
Neither of them moves. Neither of them leaves.
The locker room door creaks open again, and they both snap their heads toward it.
Kevin’s slightly wide-eyed gaze flicks between them, eyebrows raising high into his forehead. “Uh… is this a bad time?”
Blinking rapidly, Avery shakes her head before turning on her heel and forcing a smile. “No. I was just leaving.”
Jay watches her go, his stomach dropping as she pushes past Kev without another word.
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The bass from the speakers pulses through Avery’s chest, the thrum of the music matching the erratic rhythm of her heartbeat. The bar is crowded, bodies pressing together on the dance floor, voices raised in laughter and conversation that blurs into a dull roar. She sits at the bar, her half-empty glass of whiskey in front of her, the amber liquid catching the flashing neon lights that paint the room in shades of red and blue.
Her head was heavy, spinning slightly as she takes another sip, the alcohol burning its way down her throat. It doesn’t taste good—not really—but it helps. Helps blur the sharp edges of her thoughts, dulls the ache that’s been clawing at her chest all week.
She hasn’t talked to Jay since their fight in the locker room. Since he grabbed her wrist. Since she yanked away. He hasn’t come to the stakeouts the last two nights, leaving her to sit in her car alone, the silence screaming at her. He hasn’t offered, and she hasn’t asked.
She should be glad. Should be relieved.
Instead, she feels like the tight coil that was barely holding her together is unraveling.
More memories have been coming back every single time she closed her eyes, jagged and painful, clawing their way to the surface no matter how much she tried to bury them. Her mind flickers to Nikolai, to the sound of her own screams echoing in that cold, damp room. To his voice, low and cruel, asking her over and over, Who are you?
Avery squeezes her eyes shut, pressing her fingers to her temples as if she could will the images away. But they are relentless, invading her thoughts like a storm she couldn’t escape. Everything feels tangled and messy, her emotions an unbearable weight she can only lessen with alcohol.
She hates herself for how much she thinks about Jay. Every moment they spend together feels like a lifeline, but it also reopens old wounds. She thought she was doing the right thing by pushing him away, by letting him move on with Hailey. But now, she isn’t sure. She misses him. But it’s clear how hurt and angry he is. She doesn’t know how much longer they can do this back and forth before one of them breaks, shatters into so many pieces that it’ll be impossible to glue back together. What they have now isn’t sustainable, not in this job. Not with both of them in this unit.
“Avery.” The voice comes from beside her, smooth, familiar. She blinks, looking up to find one of the club’s regulars Mark—or maybe Matt?—leaning against the bar next to her. His lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Didn’t expect to see you here again,” he says, tilting his head as his eyes rake over her. “You good?”
She forces a smirk, even though her stomach is twisting. “Do I not look good?”
He chuckles, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small baggie. A few little white pills clink together inside. He holds it between two fingers, offering them to her like a gift. “Here. This’ll help.”
Her breath catches in her throat, her pulse quickening as her eyes narrow in on the bag. Her body reacts before her mind can catch up, her hand curling tightly around her glass as she fights the urge to reach for it.
It would be so easy. One pill. One small pill to take the edge off. Just enough to forget. To stop the memories, the guilt, the pain.
The man leans closer, taking out two of the pills and slipping them into her hand, “On the house. You look like you could use it.”
Avery stares at them, rolling them in her palm experimentally. The urge is a living thing, crawling up her throat, sinking its claws into her skin.
Just one.
She needs to get out of here. Slamming her palm on the table, she quickly jumps to her feet. His words of protest come, but she doesn’t hear it. She’s already backing away, shoving through the crowd of drunk people, her breaths coming painfully fast.
Her feet carry her out of the club and into the cold Chicago night, the icy air slapping her in the face. Her hands shake as she digs her phone out of her pocket. She barely registers what she’s doing, who she’s calling. Her fingers move on autopilot.
The call rings twice before Adam picks up, his voice groggy, “Hello?”
“Can I come over?” she asks, her voice hoarse, barely above the pounding of the music that can still be heard from the sidewalk.
There’s a pause on the other end, then a quiet sigh. “Yeah. Of course.”
She nods even though he can’t see it, mumbling a quick, “Be there soon,” before hanging up. She stares at the screen for a moment, her breath hitching, before she slips the phone back in her pocket. Avery’s feet start moving before her mind can catch up, the wind biting into her skin and sobering her up just slightly. With every step, she has to fight the desire to turn around. To go back inside that club, back to that guy and back to those magic little pills that can take away all the hurt and the anger and the guilt.
The streets are quiet, the snow falling softly around her as she makes her way through the city, still on edge. Her breath comes in short, visible puffs, her boots crunching against the frozen pavement. She doesn’t know what she was going to say when she gets there. She’s still pissed at him for starting a fight with Jay. How am I the bad guy when I’m the one who got sucker punched? His disbelieving voice rings in her head making a small smile tug at her lips, just enough to distract her for a moment.
When Avery reaches the apartment building, she stares up at the brick and blinks slowly, trying to make sense of her fragmented thoughts. She bites her lip, realizing that she probably shouldn’t be here. Before she can decide to cut and run, though, an older man with a dog opens the door and she slips inside with a casual smile. Her mind races as she climbs the stairs, the beat of the club’s music still thrumming under her skin. By the time she reaches the door, her breathing is shallow, her emotions a tangled mess. She raises her hand, hesitating for a split second before knocking.
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gothamite-rambler ¡ 12 days ago
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Dick Grayson hanging out with Kara El
This a prompt I came up with after I read this old post that said this: I've read too many batfamily fics. I need to read a fic that is about Dick spending time with everyone EXCEPT the batfam.
Kara and Dick sat at the front bar of a fancy club having drinks together. Dick had invited the supergirl out for drinks much to her shock. She had asked if this was one of his open dating things, but he reassured her it was just two friends hanging out.
Kara: Okay, you got me at the club, I'm wearing a cute dress, you're dressed like a GQ model. You better not try anything on me.
Dick (chuckling): Promise I won't. I had a free night and you were the only one I wanted to call. Especially since Kori won't be back until next week.
Kara: You took me out for drinks, no trying to smash or woo me?
Dick nodded with a sincere smile.
Kara: Oh shit, you're telling the truth. Thank goodness... okay next question, you seriously still see mas a friend?
Dick: Yep, and we never hooked up so that helps.
Kara: Damn, looks like I misjudged you. How could you tell I wasn't interested in you like that?
Dick: Because you've told me numerous times that I'm not your type, that you'd never sleep with me, we’re not related through adoption, and we don’t hang out that much.
Kara (slightly surprised): Oh… Dude, I feel the same way about my 'family.' I don’t mean anything by turning you down either. You're fairly attractive, but, well, I have a type. And it's not you.
Dick: Trust me, I'm glad you think that. I’d rather not spend time with the other Titans or anyone in Gotham. I get way too many comments about how hot I am. Like, I get it, but I have way more to offer than just being charming, attractive, funny, and having a fantastic body.
Kara (playfully bumping her fist against his arm): Two of those were about your supposed good looks! I’ll admit there’s more to you than just being attractive. People seem to forget there’s an intelligent brain in that well-sculpted forehead of yours.
Dick: Aww, you think my forehead is well sculpted? Thanks, K! You forgot to mention I’m super strong and a skilled fighter.
Kara: Fairly strong, decent fighter, massive ego. You're lucky the charm makes up for it… and that you're not exactly like your dad.
Dick breathed a sigh of relief as though she had just told him he didn’t have a disease. Kara laughed at his exaggerated reaction.
Kara: Seriously though, I've always seen you as my friend even when you get on my nerves. No one else likes cosmopolitans like we do.
Dick agreed while taking a sip from the fancy wine glass filled to the brim with the drink in question. Kara laughed, having already finished her drink.
Kara: They're missing out.
Dick: Definitely. Hey are you still a fan of Sex and the City?
Kara: Duh! I’ve been watching the spinoff shows too. They don’t have the same charm as the original, but—
Dick: Carrie Bradshaw remains fabulous in all of them?
Kara (smirking): Exactly.
Dick: I say we watch that and then Veronica Mars?
Kara: Oh my heart! You’re still a Veronica Mars fan?
Dick rolled his eyes and tilted his head, refusing to let her insult his favorite show.
Dick: It’s about a young detective played by the national treasure, Kristen Bell. You won’t change my mind. How about this—second round is on me, and then we watch one of my favorite shows and one of yours.
Kara (eager): All right! We’re watching the last two seasons of Riverdale.
Dick dramatically waved his hands in rejection, but Kara laughed, playfully shoving him.
Dick: God, no! Stephanie likes that trash. I couldn’t get past season one.
Kara: If I'm sitting through ‘90s teen angst, you’re watching a CW show that’s definitely enjoyably dumb. Come on, I’ll buy us tacos while we’re here.
Dick sighed, relenting.
Dick: Fine, but don’t think about getting me drunk and having your way with me.
Kara: Oh, honey, no. I’m no Barbara; I won’t make that mistake. Luckily she wised up.
Dick (laugh-cackling): You’re ridiculous.
Kara (with a prideful smile): I know. You’ll have to deal with it if we’re going to hang out more.
Dick (sincere): I’m okay with that.
Dick held up his glass and clinked it against Kara's before she stood up to order more drinks and tacos. Once she left, Dick sighed, glad to take a break from spending time with his family.
With a family as large as his, it got exhausting to always be around them. Kara was refreshing to be with, thanks to her brash and oddly bubbly attitude, plus she was one of the few people who actually treated him like a regular individual.
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iambilliejeanok ¡ 1 year ago
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HII love ur writing, been feeling super sick recently so they’ve brought me a great amount of joy and comfort haha. If it’s ok may I ask for Itachi taking care of a sick reader after overexerting themselves during a mission?
Sorry for any mistakes, english isn’t my first language ^^”
Hey honey! I’m sorry to hear that you haven’t been doing well, I’m also sorry for the late response I meant to post this a week ago but I got logged out my account🥹 hope you’re feeling better sweetheart🩷
(It’s still Itachi week)
No Warnings: Fluff, nudity.
Itachi cannot take his eyes off of you. This was only your very first mission as a new jonin ninja and your boyfriend was exceptionally proud. Without the hokage, or the anbu corps knowledge, he was with you through every step of the mission, ensuring your safety from a distance, also easily managing to keep himself hidden the entire time. Your mission lasted nearly a weak, and unfortunately, you had to fight someone or something every single day of it. You were alone for this one, so the unavoidable fights you ended up in were usually three on one battles and each one left you even more bruised and injured than the previous one. Itachi kept himself disguised quite well. Well enough that you couldn’t even detect his chakra or his scent from the first to the last day of your mission. You certainly didn’t look forward to fights, which was one thing about being a ninja you often complained to your boyfriend about, so he was particularly impressed with how you held your own each day. Some days got too intense, and he had to try his best to refrain from attending to you. You would never grow as a shinobi if someone always came in to save you. It was tough for him, but it was for the best. Every ninja was bound to end up in a situation like yours and quite often at that, so it was important for him to avoid getting involved and promised himself he’d only intervene if you were on the brink of death, however, because of your physical prowess, your intelligence as well as your determination, you managed to successfully complete one of the most challenging missions of your life as a ninja, despite the injuries and wounds you were able to wrap up yourself whenever you had a moment of peace.
You were in pain, hungry, exhausted and felt slightly dizzy when you had reached the outskirts of Konoha. You could tell by the farms that stretched across the fields ahead of you that you were close to home. A couple more hours of traveling and you’d finally see the gates of Konoha, deciding to take a break near the river that ran through your home village, all the way through the forest and even reaching the farms to provide water for the farmers and their crops. There was a secret spot nearby with a mini waterfall, hidden by thick foliage and rocks. This place was a secret that Itachi had once shown you a while back, and you took advantage of it whenever you were alone. It was midsummer now and the water in the river was slightly warm, but still pleasantly cool against your skin as you washed your body near the waterfall, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath as you listened to the serene sound of birds chirping and water running.
Itachi intended to finally join you as soon as you entered the forest, but he was confused to see you take an immediate left, instead of following the foot trail in between the trees. He quickly figured it was to head to the secret waterfall the two of you liked to visit often, and decided to surprise you there. Although you were always happy to see him, he wasn’t sure how you would feel about his sudden presence, or further more about the fact that he had been monitoring you the entire mission, after all, he didn’t want you to think he was babying you. He wasn’t supposed to be there with you. What he did was incredibly risky because he could’ve been summoned any one of those days that he was away with you for, but whatever the consequences of being missing for a week were , would’ve been totally worth ensuring you were still alive. This was a big mission for you and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. He wanted this experience to make you stronger and not kill you. So he was okay with the thought of you being upset with him if you did figure out that he was watching you the whole time.
He didn’t intend to startle you as he slowly walked out from the bushes just a couple of feet away from the river bank, noticing the way you struggled to lift up your arms as you washed underneath them, hoping he could help you in the water. He needed a rinse himself anyhow. “What are you doing here!?”, you asked, your heart racing with excitement and relief as he approached, the water rising up his pale, nude body as he walked deeper into it, his hair loose as it draped his shoulders and back. As scrumptious as he looked, you were far too exhausted to think about entertaining any arousal you felt, and did your best to play things out cool, trying to hide your pain from him. You didn’t want him to grow anxious about you whenever you were away on missions. You longed for his respect and worked hard to prove it to him, deeply admiring him as a ninja. “I hope I’m not intruding…I will leave if you’re not comf-” he began to say, interrupted by your sudden reassurance. “No it’s okay, stay…”, you said, allowing him to grab the tiny rag you made out of your shirt to help you wash better. He knew about your hardships, and the fact that you were in pain tugged at his heart as he gently cleaned your face, carefully scrubbing it with the wet rag before wringing it out to wipe your face clean. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and then both you cheeks, and you weakly smiled, closing your eyes as you enjoyed the warmth of his touch on your skin while he continued to wash the rest of your body.
“How was your first day out there as a jonin?”, he asked, placing a hand on your back to pull you closer, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. You unconsciously leaned the rest of your weight against him, snuggling his neck and hugging him as he began scrubbing your back. He smiled wearily, kissing your temple and could sense how low your chakra was, wrapping his arm around you for support. You were far too exhausted and he frowned at that, wondering just how you would’ve made it home if he wasn’t there to watch you. “Mmmm”, you hummed, his skin warm against your cheek. He smelled earthy and you got a feint whiff of pecan nuts too. He smelled divine to you and you pressed a kiss to his neck before speaking. “It was tough”, you said softly, fatigue increasing with every word that came out of your mouth. “There were a lot of challenges and I couldn’t sleep sometimes…”, you continued, pausing for a moment as he could feel you tense for a second. You thought about your next words, refraining from giving him too much information. You didn’t want him worrying right now. You were happy he was here and you wanted him to be happy with you. “…but it was good overall. I managed to save little Inoue and delivered him safely to his family”, you lied. There was nothing safe about your mission. Maybe for the child, but not for you. You lifted your head up to smile at Itachi and you caught him frowning, but he quickly smiled at you when he saw you looking, turning you around so he could wash your front. “I knew you’d manage sweetgirl”, he said, planting a kiss right on your lips. “You’re hurt”, he said, carefully washing around the large bruise that covered the side of your tummy which was already a dark purple with a green ring surrounding it, his hair tickling your cheek as a warm breeze went by. “It’s nothing”, you swallowed, remembering how you were restrained and kicked several times in the gut. “Did you get into any fights?”, he asked and you frowned. “Yes but it was nothing I couldn’t handle”, you lied again. The criminals who ganged up on you were highly skilled and gave you the beating of your life. It did take a lot of chakra to take on all of them, ontop of the tireless traveling you did to avoid any more troublesome interactions. You managed to heal up your face and some of the cuts that littered your body, but couldn’t work on the major bruises on your body, your chakra reserves far too low to use any more without endangering your life. You would visit the hospital as soon as you got home, you told yourself.
“I’m sure you handled it well my love, I have a surprise waiting for you back at home”, Itachi said, sensing that you didn’t want to talk about it, changing the topic to something more light hearted. After he finished washing you up, he did his best to dry your body with the same rag, laying down his shirt on a nearby boulder for you to sit on while he carefully dressed you. You felt ten times worse than you did before he had arrived, your entire abdomen drumming with pain and your vision blurring as you fought to keep yourself together. You allowed him to help you, weakly clutching onto him for support. He could feel the fatigue radiating off of you and could tell you were forcing yourself to keep a straight face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, lifting up your head to look at him. His big eyes glistening as he held yours with genuine concern in them. “You’re so strong baby. I’m really proud of you”, he said, and you knew he could sense how much pain you were in, tears welling in your eyes, Itachi softly smiling as they fell down your cheeks. You were so tired, parting your lips to take a deep breath as you contemplated telling him the truth. “It’s alright my love, I’ll take care of you okay?”, he said, swiftly lifting you off the rock and holding you close against him. You didn’t even have the the strength to wrap your legs around him, but he held you firmly with his hands under both your thighs as he carefully moved you over to his back. “Oh baby, your chakra levels are so low. I’m gonna get you home so you can rest and I’ll cook you your favourite. I promise you’ll feel stronger before the sun sets”. You shut your eyes tight, crying into his shoulder as he began running through the forest. Teleporting you back would only worsen your condition, so he chose this way. A journey that would’ve taken you m another day in your condition, only took him two hours and the two of you were home.
“Cmon, let’s get you to bed”, he said, gently maneuvering your limp body from his back to his front. Your condition was rapidly worsening and Itachi was starting to worry, concerned that you were still awake after resting on his back for two hours. You were highly fatigued, but you didn’t fall asleep and your body felt cold against his. He soothingly rubbed your back as he walked towards the bedroom, whispering reassuring words in your ear with every step. He carefully placed you down on the cool summer linen, slowly ridding you of all your clothes teleporting to the wardrobe to pull out a thick blanket, a fresh pair of underwear and a long sleeved undershirt quickly returning to slip them onto your now shivering body, before covering you with the thick blanket. He wasted no time in preparing you some herbal tea, mixing in enough medicine to knock you out and allow you to rest for as long as your body needed it. He teleported as he moved, not wanting to waste even a second, slightly lifting you up to help your drink the tea. With lots of encouragement, he managed to get you to down it all, immediately ridding himself of all his clothes, leaving just his underwear on to snuggle under the blanket with you. “I missed you so much”, he heard you softly whisper, pressing his body as close to yours as possible without hurting you, his warmth enveloping you far better than the blanket. “I’m right here baby, get some rest and we’ll spend some time together as soon as you wake up okay?”, he said, and you felt your eyes grow heavy as you basked in his warmth, his steady heart beat a comforting melody, putting you to sleep in a matter of seconds.
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