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fluentmoviequoter · 5 hours
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I’ve decided what I will do to celebrate the start of summer when I finish my classes in two weeks!!!
I will be rereading Vicious and Vengeful because I miss Victor and haven’t had enough time to read so far this year. My entire summer will be spent with a book in my hand.😌
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fluentmoviequoter · 8 hours
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This series!!! It hurts right now, but it's the beautiful kind of hurt that we love to feel!❤️‍🩹
I loved every part of this, but the lines about Tim's attitude and warmth really affected me. And the part about the dog tag! Way to break my heart. Phenomenal writing as always from Nicole and a beginning that makes me want a hug from Tim!🫶🏼
something old
Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist
part 1
Tim Bradford x bestfriend!reader Series: Something old, new, borrowed, blue Fandom: The Rookie Summary: You and Tim have been best friends for years, but your friendship is jeopardised when you caught feelings for him and Tim decided he wants to propose to Lucy.
Angst
A/N: How I LOVE this one. I've been so exited to post it, I really couldn't resist any more. I hope you like it as much as I do. Feel free to give some feedback and if you have any ideas for the next parts, I'm all ears. Thank you so so much for your support, I appreciate every single one of you. Lots of love, bubs! ❤️ Warnings: eating disorder briefly described, getting drunk ? not proofread yet Requested: not really, yes maybe - here Words: 4k GIF not mine, credits to the owner.
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You buried your head into cases, one after another, working overtime and exhausting yourself on purpose. Keeping your mind occupied with work and the treacherous world outside, you didn't have time to think about your own life. And it was for the best. For the past months you watched the man you've been in love with for years fall for someone you've considered your friend. Of course, neither one of them knew about the feelings evolving inside you with every sight of him, but it doesn't make it less painful. And it still keeps you up at night.
Tim has been your best friend since you can remember. You've been there for each other through thick and thin, always finding solace in each other's arms. He's been your shoulder to cry on, the first person to share your happiness with, and the only one who's got your back. Until now. Sitting at your desk, you checked your watch and sighed. It's almost ten pm and the bullpen is just as quiet as a grave. Your grave, plugged up by your own misery. You didn't catch sign of Tim for weeks, the last thing he said to you was a distant 'morning' thrown in a rush as he left for patrol duty with Lucy. It's funny how you imagined that seeing Tim and Lucy on a daily basis at the station would tear you apart, because right now, not seeing Tim for weeks broke you even more. They kept their distance at work, showing only professionalism as their sparkling glances filled with so much love and joy spoke volumes. Laughter slowly broke the silence, the well known voices echoing through the station. You raised your head a little, to take in the sight as you watched Tim and Lucy bantering. But you noticed something was not right, his smile didn't reach his ears as it used to, eyes don't seem filled with emotion and she didn't seem to notice. You knew Tim like the back of your hand. You could sense something's going on between them, but you lowered your head just in time, before your eyes could meet Tim's. Your intention was not to avoid him, not necessarily, but seeing him so late after his shift ended, surely caught you off guard. Just as his hand on your shoulder did.
You raised your head, startled by the unexpected sensation of warmth as his smile grew on his face, genuine you might say. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." he excused himself softly as his eyes searched yours, going back and forth between you and your desk, "What you doing here so late?"
You blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden closeness, the warmth of Tim's hand on your shoulder seeping into your bones. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe, lost in the depths of his gaze as his eyes searched yours with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
"Just... catching up on paperwork." you managed to reply, your voice steady despite the chaos swirling in your mind.
Tim's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of something you couldn't quite decipher passing through his eyes before it was gone, replaced by a mask of sarcasm. "Doing the homework for the whole department, Detective?"
You chuckled softly, the sound feeling forced even to your own ears. "Something like that," you replied, offering him a weak smile in return.
Tim nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he pulls up a chair beside your desk, his expression serious. "Can we talk?" he asks, his voice low and hesitant.
Your heart skips a beat at his words, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind as you nod, motioning for him to continue. "Of course, Bradford. What's on your mind?"
He hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing with uncertainty before he finally meets your eyes. "It's about Lucy," he says softly, his voice tinged with nervousness.
His eyes darting away from yours before finally meeting them once more. "I want to propose to Lucy," Tim admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm scared, scared that I'm not good enough for her, scared that I won't be able to protect her."
Your heart clenched at his words, the pain of your unspoken feelings bubbling to the surface once more. But you pushed it aside, forcing a smile onto your face as you reached out to take his hand in yours. "Tim, you're more than good enough for her," you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. "And as for protecting her, well, I think you've proven time and time again that you'd do anything for her."
Tim's eyes searched yours, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in their depths. "But what if something happens to her because of me?" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Your heart feels like it's been wrenched from your chest at his words, a dull ache settling in the pit of your stomach. You've known for a while now how deeply Tim cares for Lucy, how much he loves her. And yet, the thought of him spending the rest of his life with her, fills you with a sense of profound loss.
You shook your head, a sense of determination coursing through your veins. "Tim, you can't live your life in fear of what might happen and you can't blame yourself for the dangers of this job," you say, your voice trembling with emotion. "Lucy knows the risks. She chose to be with you, despite them."
His eyes searched yours, a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty shining in their depths. "Thank you, Y/N," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the din of the bullpen. "I needed to hear that."
You smiled, squeezing his hand gently before releasing it, a bittersweet ache settling in your chest. "Anytime, Tim. You know I'm always here for you."
You smiled, pushing the pain aside, burying it deep beneath the surface where no one could see. Because in the end, all that mattered was Tim's happiness, even if it meant sacrificing your own.
As Tim stands up from the chair, a playful glint dances in his eyes, and he can't resist teasing you. "You know, Detective, it's past your bedtime. Shouldn't you be tucked in by now?"
You roll your eyes with a laugh, shaking your head at his antics. "Oh please, Bradford, like you're one to talk. Last time I checked, we're both adults capable of burning the midnight oil."
Tim chuckles, his laughter filling the room with warmth. "Touché, Y/L/N," he concedes, his smile genuine. "But someone gotta keep you out of trouble."
You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a grin at his antics. "Like I need you to keep me out of trouble. I can handle myself just fine, thank you very much. I'm a grown adult who can stay up past bedtime if she wants to," you tease, flashing him a mischievous grin.
Suddenly, Tim's attitude shifts, a concerned expression playing on his face as he leans forward, his voice soft and earnest.
"Seriously, though, Y/N," he says, his tone gentle. "Don't stay up too late, get some sleep. You're no good to anyone if you're running on empty."
You're taken aback by his sudden change in attitude, the warmth of his concern washing over you like a comforting embrace. Despite the playful banter, you can see the genuine worry in his eyes, a reminder of just how much he cares about you, even if he doesn't always show it.
You smile softly, touched by his concern. "Thanks, Tim," you say sincerely, your voice warm with gratitude. "I'll make sure to hit the hay early tonight. Wouldn't want to dethrone you as the grumpiest cop."
Tim's lips quirk up in a small smile at your teasing, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes. "Hey, watch it." he says softly, his voice gentle. "But take care of yourself, okay? Promise me."
You nod, a sense of warmth settling in your chest at his words. "Promise," you reply, meeting his gaze with a reassuring smile. "And you take care of yourself too, Tim. Don't forget to look after your woman."
With a chuckle, Tim nods, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes as he turns to leave your office. "I won't," he promises softly, his voice carrying a warmth that fills the space between you. "Thanks, Y/N. For everything."
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The station buzzed with activity around you, the usual hustle and bustle of the station fading into background noise as you sat at your desk, lost in a sea of memories and emotions. You've seen the bullpen and the files of criminals more than you've seen your own bed, the caffeine taking place of your breakfast, lunch and dinner.
Since Tim told you about the proposal, it's been radio silence from him, not a word exchanged between the two of you. The weight of his words hangs over you like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over everything you do.
You glance down at your hands, absently tracing your fingers over Tim's dog tag from Afghanistan. He had offered it to you when he safely returned home from the war, a silent acknowledgment of your friendship and the bond you shared. And now, as you hold it in your hands, it feels like a cruel, constant reminder of everything you had lost and everything you could never have.
The tag feels heavy in your palm, a tangible reminder of the weight of your unspoken feelings for Tim. You close your eyes, willing the memories to fade, but they only come rushing back with even more intensity. Memories of late nights spent talking and laughing, of shared secrets and stolen glances, of a friendship that had once meant everything to you.
You've lost weight in the past weeks, the stress and heartache taking their toll on your body. Dark circles ring your eyes, evidence of sleepless nights spent tossing and turning, haunted by memories of Tim and the friendship you fear may be slipping away.
Angela, your only remaining closest friend and confidante, joins you at your desk, her presence a welcome distraction from the storm raging inside your mind. "How you holding up?" she asks softly, her eyes searching your frame with concern. "I, uh, heard about Tim and Lucy."
"Yeah, no, I'm fine," you reply, forcing a smile onto your lips as you clear your throat. "I'm really happy for him."
Angela raises an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Liar," she mocks gently. "You don't look fine."
You sigh, the facade slipping for a moment as you meet Angela's gaze. "It's just... been a rough couple of weeks," you admit, the words heavy on your tongue.
"I know, I'm sorry," Angela says sympathetically, reaching out to squeeze your hand in a gesture of support. "You know, I'm here if you need to talk or something. Or drink it away. Whatever suits you," she adds with a chuckle.
You spot Tim across the bullpen, his back turned as he converses with another officer. A surge of emotion wells up inside you, a tangled mess of longing and heartache that threatens to overwhelm you.
"You know what?" you say suddenly, your voice firm despite the tremor in your heart. "I could use a drink." You pause, a plan forming in your mind. "Or maybe ten. But I have to take care of something first."
Angela looks at you, confusion flickering in her eyes as you rise from your desk and make your way towards Tim. "Y/N!" she calls after you, but you ignore her, your mind made up as you steel yourself for the confrontation that lies ahead.
Outside, the sun sets in a blaze of orange and pink, casting long shadows across the pavement as the city begins to quieten down. But for you, the night is just beginning, a whirlwind of emotions and unanswered questions swirling around you as you prepare to face the man who holds your heart in his hands.
Your heart pounds in your chest, a mixture of uneasiness and determination swirling inside you. His gaze meets yours, and for a moment, you see a flicker of something familiar in his eyes, a warmth that sends a shiver down your spine.
"Sergeant Bradford, may I have a word?" you ask, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you.
Tim turns to face you, his brow furrowing in concern as he takes in your appearance. The other officer excuses himself, sensing the gravity of the situation.
The circles under your eyes and the weariness in your expression send a pang of guilt coursing through him. He's been so consumed with his own turmoil that he failed to notice the toll it was taking on you.
"Everything okay?" Tim asks, his voice soft with concern.
"Yeah, just wanted to talk to you about something," you reply, your voice betraying none of the turmoil raging inside you.
As Tim's concern for your well-being rises, so does his guilt. He knows he's been distant, preoccupied with his own thoughts and emotions. But seeing you like this, so worn down and fragile, hits him harder than he expected. A surge of emotions threatens to overwhelm you, as well, the love you've buried deep down resurfaces, overshadowing the pain and frustration that have consumed you for weeks.
"Hold on a second, Y/N," Tim says, his voice tinged with worry. "When's the last time you slept? Or ate something?"
You feel a surge of anger bubble up inside you, a mask to cover the hurt and vulnerability that threaten to spill over.
"Okay, Bradford. Don't pretend like you care," you snap, your voice sharper than intended. Deep down, you're grateful to know he still cares, but the pain is too raw, too fresh to acknowledge.
"I just thought it's best for you to have this back," you continue, taking his hand and placing the dog tag in his palm. Your voice trembles slightly as you speak, the weight of your words heavy in the air. "You know, for the wedding. Something old. Like... our friendship."
Tim's heart sinks as you push the dog tag into his hand, your words ringing in his ears like a painful echo.
Without giving him a chance to respond, you turn and walk away, leaving Tim speechless and confused in your wake. Deep down, you know you've made the right choice. It's time to let go of the past and move forward, even if it means facing a future without the man you've loved for so long.
He knows he messed up, knows he let you down in ways he can't even begin to comprehend. But as he watches you disappear into the crowd, he's filled with a determination unlike anything he's ever felt before.
He won't let you slip through his fingers, won't let your friendship crumble away to nothing. Whatever it takes, he'll make things right, even if it means facing the painful truth that he's been in love with you all along.
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The night air is thick with the scent of alcohol and laughter as you stumble out of the bar, Angela's concerned gaze following your every move. You've had way too much to drink, the alcohol coursing through your veins and clouding your thoughts with a haze of euphoria and pain.
But despite Angela's disapproving glances, you press on, drowning your sorrows in the numbing embrace of alcohol. It's a temporary escape, a fleeting moment of oblivion in a world that seems determined to crush you beneath its weight.
As the night wears on, the alcohol begins to take its toll, your movements growing sluggish and uncoordinated. Your laughter turns to tears, the pain of losing Tim as a friend hitting you with a force you can't begin to comprehend.
And then, just as the world begins to blur around you, Angela's voice cuts through the fog, her words a lifeline in the darkness. "Bradford, get your ass here and clean the mess you've made," she says over the phone, her tone tinged with worry.
Tim's voice responds, filled with concern. "What happened?"
"Y/N's a bit drunk and I can't deal with her by myself," Angela replies, her voice tight with concern.
"Give me five," Tim says, his urgency palpable even over the phone.
As Tim rushes to the bar, his heart pounds in his chest with a mixture of worry and guilt. He can't shake the feeling that he's somehow responsible for the state you're in, that his actions—or lack thereof—have pushed you to this point.
When Tim arrives at the bar, you're a total mess, the alcohol having stripped away all semblance of control. Seeing you like this, vulnerable and hurting, tears at his heartstrings in a way he never expected. He can't help but feel a surge of guilt wash over him, knowing that he's played a part in your pain.
He helps you into his car, his touch gentle yet firm, a rush of conflicting emotions floods through you. His hands are warm against your skin, a stark contrast to the cold reality of the night air.
You feel a pang of sadness as you meet his eyes, clouded with worry and concern. The distance between you feels insurmountable, a chasm widening with each passing moment.
"Come on, Y/N. The party's over. Let's get you home," Tim says softly, his voice filled with concern and they wash over you like a soothing balm, a reminder that even in your darkest moments, he's still there, still willing to help you pick up the pieces.
But you protest, your words slurred and disjointed as you gaze at Angela through heavy-lidded eyes. "Why did you call him?" you mumble, frustration evident in your voice.
He buckles you up, his movements careful and deliberate, a flicker of hope stirs within you. Maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance to salvage what's left of your friendship, to bridge the gap that's grown between you.
Tim exchanges a look with Angela, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Where are her keys?" he asks, his tone serious.
Angela shrugs innocently. "Yeah, that's the problem. She lost her purse. Don't you have a spare key?"
Tim's jaw tightens with frustration. "No. You?"
Angela shakes her head, her expression apologetic. "Obviously not, that's why I called you." she smiles at him playfully, "Good night, Bradford."
As Tim starts the car and pulls away from the curb, the world outside blurs into a hazy kaleidoscope of lights and shadows. You bumble something incoherent through the drive, your words slurred and disjointed as you struggle to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.
He helps you out of the car and guides you inside his house, his touch is both gentle and reassuring. Each brush of his hand against yours sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you, igniting a fire deep within your soul. You lean on him heavily, your legs wobbly from the alcohol as he guides you inside.
Tim leads you to his bedroom, his movements gentle yet firm. He helps you out of your shoes and jacket, his touch lingering longer than necessary as he tucks you into his bed, tracing invisible patterns along your arm, pulling the covers over you. You can feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your bones, soothing the ache in your heart and calming the storm raging inside you.
"Can I get you anything?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. "Do you need anything?"
You mumble something incoherent in response, your words slurred and barely audible. As he sits beside you on the edge of the bed, his touch becomes hesitant, unsure of how to navigate the tangled web of emotions between you. His hand hovers over yours, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he debates whether to reach out or pull away.
"You," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.
Tim's heart skips a beat at your words, a surge of excitement coursing through him as his touch falters, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. But all he finds is raw honesty, a vulnerability that takes his breath away and leaves him feeling exposed.
He maintains a serious expression, his concern for your well-being overriding any other emotions.
"You're drunk, Y/N," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "You don't know what you're talking about."
But you're insistent, stumbling over your words. "I know," you say, your voice tinged with desperation. "I know I love you and I know I need you."
Tim's heart aches at your words, the weight of your confession hanging heavy in the air between you. But he knows you're not in the right state of mind to have this conversation now.
But you shake your head stubbornly, your words slurred as you try to leave the bed. "I need to go. What would your fiancée say" you insist.
"Take it easy, Y/N," he says gently, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "You need sleep. We'll talk in the morning."
But you plead with him, your eyes searching his for any sign of reassurance. "Please don't go," you whisper, your voice tinged with desperation.
With a sigh, Tim gives in, knowing that arguing with you now would only make things worse. "Fine," he says softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'll humor you and sleep on the floor."
You pat the empty side of the bed, a small smile playing on your lips. "Here," you say, your voice soft and pleading.
Tim chuckles softly, shaking his head in amusement. "You're so drunk," he murmurs, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you close. "And you're definitely gonna kill me in the morning."
Tim settles into bed beside you, his touch is gentle yet firm, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back. The warmth of his embrace envelops you like a cocoon, comforting and familiar, and you find yourself leaning into him instinctively, seeking solace in his presence.
"But it's definitely worth it," Tim whispers softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that makes your heart swell with love.
His touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns brighter with each passing moment. It's as if every brush of his fingers against your skin is a promise, a silent reassurance that you're not alone, that he's here for you no matter what.
And as you bury your face against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls you into a sense of peace you haven't felt in weeks. In this moment, with Tim's arms wrapped around you, everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you alone in the darkness.
But beneath the surface, a storm rages within you, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions that threatens to tear you apart. Guilt gnaws at your insides, knowing that you've burdened Tim with your drunken confessions, knowing that you've crossed a line that can never be uncrossed.
His touch is tender yet tentative, as if he's afraid to break the fragile spell that binds you together. He can't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that in this moment, nothing else matters except the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms, clinging to the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance for love.
And yet, despite the turmoil raging inside you, there's a sense of rightness in this moment, a feeling that you've finally found your place in the world. In Tim's arms, you feel safe and loved, cherished in a way you never thought possible.
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fluentmoviequoter · 9 hours
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I loved your stories with Bruce from Justice League Unlimited, please write more stories ❤️
Thank you so much!! I'm glad you enjoyed them! I will definitely be writing more, and I also want to try writing for Wally from JLU!!🤍
If you want me to write a specific episode or have a request, my request status and guidelines are here!
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
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Black Mercy
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!JL!reader (Justice League Unlimited!Bruce)
Summary: When you and Bruce find Superman in the Fortress of Solitude, you encounter the Black Mercy. Bruce faces his heart's greatest desire, and you encourage him to find happiness.
Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for Justice League Unlimited 1x2 "For the Man Who Has Everything", fluff, canon-level violence and action
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
A/N: I'll say it again... this show is elite. I'll never shut up about the characterizations of Batman, Superman, and the Flash! But, also, his bat ears.
Picture from Pinterest
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“J’onn, when did Superman check in last?” you inquire.
J’onn clicks the trackpad before him. The Watchtower has the most advanced technology of any place you’ve ever seen, yet J’onn has to navigate to the most recent communication reports to learn when he last heard Clark’s voice.
“Several hours,” J’onn answers with a frown. “He traveled to his Fortress of Solitude to investigate a disturbance but hasn’t reported since he arrived.”
“I’ll try to contact him,” you tell J’onn.
Bruce thought of everything when he designed and funded the Watchtower, and you navigate to your favorite private area. You occasionally wonder if he created such spots for people like you, the unpowered or easily overwhelmed. The Watchtower is big enough that you could go an entire day without seeing another member of the League; now, you crave that privacy to check on your friend.
“Superman, come in,” you say into your small radio. “Hello? … Clark?”
The only response you get is a distant static. You bounce the radio between your hands and frown. Clark can handle himself, of course, but he’s also good about staying in touch. The hidden door beside you creaks open slowly before Bruce steps inside.
“I thought you may be here,” he murmurs. When he turns to face you, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Clark isn’t checking in. J’onn hasn’t heard from him in hours, and I can’t reach him on comms,” you answer.
“Where is he?”
“Fortress of Solitude.”
“Then let’s go.”
You smile and take Bruce’s hand as he helps you to stand. He leads you through the empty hallways of the Watchtower, and you hope that when you get to Superman's hideout, it's just radio interference and nothing more. He steps onto the launch bay and presses a button on his utility belt to open the canopy of the batplane.
“Can I fly?” you ask.
“No,” Bruce answers.
He flies in relative silence, and it isn’t until he steers the plane into the freezing water surrounding the Fortress of Solitude that you decide to speak.
“That was a nice turn,” you compliment. “You usually scare me when you fly.”
“Sorry,” Bruce replies shortly.
He levels the plane onto an ice bank and opens the canopy. When he sees a small box in your hand, he furrows his brows under the cowl. You lead the way through the icy cave and look around for any sign of Clark.
“Is that for his birthday?” Bruce asks.
“What’d you get him?” you reply.
“He’s not the easiest person in the world to buy presents for.” Bruce lifts an envelope from his belt as he speaks.
“Please tell me that’s not a gift card.”
“It’s not… It's cash.”
You nod, and follow Bruce up the stairs into the heart of Superman’s fortress.
“What do you get for the man who has everything?” Bruce adds before freezing.
You drop the gift box when you see Clark. Bruce’s arm stretches past you protectively as you look from a distance. Clark stands motionless with a large plant attached to his chest and wrapped around his shoulders and back.
“What is that?” you ask Bruce.
He walks down the steps to get a closer look, and you follow closely behind him.
“Looks like some kind of plant,” Bruce says. “Seems to be growing through his costume and into his body.”
You step to Bruce’s side and look at Clark’s chest. He’s breathing, barely, but that’s enough of a promise that he can be saved from whatever this is. Clearly, someone was in the fortress, and Clark probably interrupted them. You will know where to start if you learn what he was investigating.
“Look around,” Bruce requests. “I’ll see what I can find here.”
You leave his side as he shines a light in Clark’s eyes. Bruce is well-versed in Kryptonian anatomy, so you trust him to decide what’s best for Clark.
“Pupils aren’t responding in the slightest. He must be cut off from all sensation,” Bruce deduces.
“How do we save someone who doesn’t know we’re trying?” you inquire.
Bruce doesn’t answer you but murmurs, “Kent, where are you?”
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“So, it was a gift. Teleported here from some alien culture, some grateful world. Or someone wanting you to think they were grateful,” Bruce says to Clark.
“How remarkable,” someone calls. Bruce stands quickly and sees Mongul as he finishes, “You animals really are almost intelligent, aren’t you? That’s exactly what happened.”
Mongul steps out of the shadows, and Bruce sees you unconscious in his hand. His jaw clenches, but he remains calm and focused. He can’t save you or Clark if he loses a fight with Mongul.
“Mongul,” Bruce greets.
“You recognize me. I’m flattered. I suppose Superman told you all about our previous encounter.”
“You mean how he humiliated you?” Bruce taunts.
“A… jaundiced account. What inferior specimens he surrounds himself with.” Mongul raises you cruelly and says, “I took her down before she even knew I was there, and I’ll take this planet just as easily.”
You gesture with your hand to show Bruce you’re about to move and then swing your legs up. When they meet Mongul’s jaw, he tips back, and you fall to the cold floor.
“Maybe she knew more than you thought,” you say. “We inferior specimens call it ‘playing possum.’”
You prepare to fight Mongul despite the unfairness of the fight. Before you can punch or be punched, however, Bruce jumps between you and Mongul.
“No,” he demands.
“Clearly the males on this world are the smart one,” Mongul muses. “He wants to know about the plant. The Black Mercy is a telepathic species. It reads the heart’s desires and feeds the individual a totally convincing simulation of it.”
“So, he’s dreaming?” Bruce clarifies.
“Oh, far deeper than any dream. I wonder where he thinks he is… Sitting on a throne ruling the universe, all you human garbage fawning at his feet? More honest, don’t you think than this pretense of being a selfless hero?”
“Bruce, we can’t take him,” you whisper as Mongul looks at Clark. “What are we supposed to do?”
“We can’t take him,” Bruce agrees. “But we can take a plant.”
“Need a distraction?”
“Be careful.”
You run toward Mongul and force him backward, away from Clark. He knocks you to the floor with ease, but where you lack size and power, you have mobility and agility. You maneuver away from him and run through an opening in the wall. As you hoped, he follows you.
Meanwhile, Bruce attempts to cut through the plant but fails.
“He’ll kill her, Clark,” Bruce tells Clark. “And then he’ll kill us all. Shake it off. Come back to us… Please.”
Bruce told you to be careful, but you’re doing anything you can to keep Mongul away from him. You fire a Kryptonian weapon at him, but you and Bruce face similar luck as nothing works to help you. You’re trapped in a losing fight, and Bruce can’t get Clark back. You see another line of weapons and run into an adjoining room. Mongul follows you, and he’s loud enough that Bruce can locate you without seeing you.
“She’s in the hall of weapons. That will buy her time, but not enough.” He grips Clark’s shoulders and adds, “She’s fighting for her life, Clark. You’ve got to fight too, Clark.”
The weapon goes cold, and you drop it before you realize how close you are to Mongul. Mogul wraps a hand around your shoulders and squeezes your neck before pushing you onto the floor.
“First, I’ll kill you and the Bat and then I’ll take this planet,” he says.
“You won’t win,” you force out.
“Of course I will.”
Mongul lifts you from the ground before dropping you again, and you can only hope that Bruce is close to saving Clark. Once he’s back, you can be sure Mongul won’t win.
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“Yes, that’s it,” Bruce says as he pulls the Black Mercy from Clark’s chest. “Fight it. Fight it.”
Bruce finally succeeds and removes the plant from Clark, but his victory is short-lived before it attaches to him instead.
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“Batman!” you yell as Mongul throws you across the hall of weapons.
You struggle to push yourself to your feet, but a blue and red blur knocks Mongul off his feet before you can. While Clark pays Mongul back for everything he lost, you stumble through a hole in the wall to find Bruce. It’s unimaginable - to lose your heart’s desire, but when you see Bruce smiling with the Black Mercy on his chest, you find the strength to keep moving.
“Bruce,” you call, but it’s no more than a whimper.
You kneel before him and grip the sides of the plant. Pulling is pointless, but you need him back. Clark can undoubtedly handle Mongul alone, but Bruce needs your help now.
“Bruce, fight for me. Come back to me,” you plead.
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“Bruce, I think it’s your turn.”
Bruce shakes his head and continues kissing you. The kids are making noise in the formal living room, but he ignores it. Not even the unmistakable sound of something breaking can draw Bruce away from you.
“Brucie,” you try again.
Talking against his lips doesn't work because his kisses are addictive. You finally raise your hands and push yourself away from Bruce. He smiles, and you know your happiness is evident on your face, too.
“Your kids are destroying the manor,” you remind him. 
“We can fix it. And they’re our kids.”
“I’m happy,” you tell him.
“I am too.”
Bruce brushes your hair back and watches your smile fall.
“But it’s not real,” you whisper.
“It can be,” Bruce promises.
He leans toward you, and you kiss his forehead before answering, “Then wake up and make it real.”
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Bruce wakes and is harshly reminded of where he is as he falls backward. The Black Mercy is wrapping around your outstretched arms, and you grunt with effort as you force it away from your chest. Clark is still fighting Mongul, and each reference to his heart’s desire revives his fight and energy.
“Bruce,” you call.
Bruce pushes your arms away from your face, and you roll toward a hole in the floor. Mongul is directly beneath you, and the Black Mercy falls away from you before landing on him. Clark sits back in relief as Mongul disappears into his heart’s desire.
“Are you okay?” Bruce asks.
You assure him that it's nothing more than bumps and bruises, and Bruce pulls a grappling hook from his belt. You wrap your arms around Bruce and cling to him as he lowers to Clark’s side.
“This was your birthday present,” you tell Clark as you pass him the battered box. “Probably broken now, but…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Clark says with a smile. He looks up at the Kryptonian statues above you and promises, “I won’t forget you.”
 “I wonder what he’s seeing,” you say, pointing toward Mongul. “Something better than he deserves, I’m sure.”
“You’re the only one who didn’t get a glimpse at your heart’s desire,” Clark points out. “Maybe I should get you a gift on the way back.”
You smile and pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry for whatever it is you lost. But I’m glad you get to spend your birthday here.”
“I appreciate it. And who knows, maybe I’ll get my desire someday.”
“I hope so.”
“Happy birthday,” Bruce says as he passes the envelope to Clark.
“Thanks, Bruce,” Clark replies. “What do you say we got back to the Watchtower and let the Fortress rest for a while?”
You and Bruce agree, but Bruce waits beside you as Clark walks toward the hidden entrance. He’ll meet you back in space, but now you’re more interested in Bruce’s attention on you.
“I’m sorry,” you offer.
“I thought it would be about my parents. When Mongul explained it, I just assumed,” Bruce says.
“I think mine would have been a normal life. No need for superheroes or watchtowers… just domesticity and happiness with someone who I love and who loves me.”
“You were there,” Bruce says quickly.
“Oh,” you say, unsure of any other, more appropriate response. "Was it… you don’t have to tell me.”
“It felt so real, even though I knew it wasn’t. Is it wrong that I wanted it to be?”
“Of course not.”
“Clark can’t get what he wanted, not if he was back on Krypton, but I could get mine with a single question. What makes me more worthy; after everything I’ve done?”
“Bruce,” you say, drawing his attention when you lay a hand on his chest. “It’s not about that. If your desire is more achievable in this life, that has nothing to do with what you deserve. And you’re not a bad person, so stop punishing yourself.”
“You told me I could make it real,” he murmurs.
“Then ask the question. You can leave it here with that plant, or you can do something for you this one time.”
“We were in the manor,” Bruce begins. “And there were kids playing in the other room, and you looked so happy. I was happy again, and I haven’t been happy in that house since I was eight years old.”
“Things can change,” you whisper.
“Would you- could we try?” Bruce asks.
“The kids in the manor thing or the you and me thing?” you tease.
You lay your hands on Bruce’s shoulders and lean close to him. His hands hover above your waist before settling against the top of your hips.
“Both?” he suggests.
“Alfred will be so happy to have company again,” you say before closing the distance and kissing Bruce.
His dreams are coming true, and yours are too. The fight never ends, but part of you is glad that the Black Mercy attached to Bruce’s chest and the version of you in his heart convinced him to take the next step.
“Alright, let’s go, Brucie,” you say as you pull back. “Clark’s going to get suspicious.”
“Brucie?” Bruce repeats. “You’ve never called me that before.”
“New things, remember? Now, come on, we have a world to protect before you take me on a proper date.”
Bruce follows you as you walk back toward the batplane and shakes his head as he murmurs, “Does this not count?”
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
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Hi sorry if I’m out of the loop but what happened? I read tgm fics sometimes and I’m just not sure what’s going on
Hi! I’m honestly probably not the person to best explain everything, but the short version is that someone doxxed mamachasesmayhem and she ended up losing her job over it. Again, this is the simple version and I don’t know any other details. I also don’t want to risk sharing incorrect information or twisting something that I don’t understand but it was an incredibly personal and uncalled for attack.
Here’s a post (and account) that has some more info!
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
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My heart goes out to the TGM fandom and everyone affected. Mama mayhem was incredibly kind to me the few times we interacted and is such a great writer and person. I’m heartbroken for her, what she went through, and is dealing with. There’s absolutely no excuse to do something like that to someone for any reason, let alone fiction on a free app. And to someone who was nothing but kind and respectful. I hope that mama mayhem is doing well and the person who did this is punished and learns some human decency and respect.
(If anyone is still in contact with mama mayhem, please pass on my love and support! I’ll continue supporting her on other platforms and encourage all of you to do so, too!!)
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
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him❤️
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
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Crushes Aren't Just for Kids
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!JL!reader (Justice League Unlimited!Bruce)
Summary: When all adults are banished from earth, you join Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Lantern in a unique fight to save the world. Along the way, some hidden feelings are revealed.
Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for Justice League Unlimited 1x3 "Kid's Stuff", fluff, mention of beheading, canon-level violence and action
Word Count: 3.1k+ words
A/N: I can't tell you how many times I've watched this show because Kevin Conroy's Batman in the DCAU tv shows is unmatched (and the kids who did the voice acting in this episode did phenomenally). I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍
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You are in a unique position for several reasons. Being one of the only human members of the Justice League, you find yourself pushing yourself to be the best you can and ensuring that you can keep up with your superpowered teammates. Plus, you are one of the only people who knew Bruce Wayne before you knew Batman, and no matter how much he denies it, you knew after one look that the man under the cowl was none other than your favorite billionaire. When you first arrived on the Watchtower with your fellow vigilante, you wondered if any of the superheroes (especially those who had unique mind powers) could tell that you wanted to be more than fellow crime fighters with Batman. If they did, no one said anything, so your secret crush has remained secret as it grows stronger.
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“Bats,” you warn as you duck away from Cheetah’s claws.
Bruce flips away from Deadshot’s line of fire before rushing up beside him. He punches under his jaw, and you watch as Deadshot lifts Bruce off the ground. Bruce throws a batarang, and you slide away from them as Deadshot falls to the floor.
“Guess that’s a wrap,” Green Lantern says. At Bruce’s look, he adds, “Sorry. Been hanging out with Flash too much.”
“I don’t see how that’s a bad thing,” you tease.
You look away from John and see three police officers entering the vault. A pink wave follows them inside, and your eyes widen when the officers disappear. Bruce pulls you to his side as John creates a forcefield with his ring, but it fails nearly as quickly as it appears.
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When you open your eyes on a floating rock, you’re still tucked against Bruce’s side. You step back quickly and look around. Dozens of rocks surround you and each holds numerous people; adults only, you notice.
“It was judgment day,” Copper exclaims, “and- and we got sent to the bad place. The bad place!”
“Where else were you expecting to go?” you ask sarcastically.
“Snap out of it, Copper!” Cheetah demands as she slaps him.
“Yeah, calm down,” John calls. “We’re probably just in another dimension.”
“I don’t see any children,” Bruce says.
“You would be the one to notice,” you murmur. “It’s not a bad thing,” you add when he directs his bat glare at you.
“That’s because a child is responsible,” a woman wearing a mask interjects as she hovers above you.
“Morgaine Le Fay,” Bruce greets, though he’s prepared to fight rather than exchange niceties and introductions.
“Great, magic,” you mutter as you fall in line between Bruce and Diana.
“I mean you no harm,” Morgaine assures. “My son Mordred has wrought this treachery. Banishing all adults to this shadow realm.”
“Do you think Flash is here?” you whisper to John.
“50/50,” he answers.
“After I spent millennia feeding him, bathing him, preparing him to be a king,” Morgaine continues. “Where did I go wrong?”
“You’re a sorceress. Can’t you just undo his spell?” Diana asks.
“No. He’s got the amulet of first magic. He’s too powerful. But if we all work together…”
“You want us to defeat your own son?” Bruce clarifies.
“So don’t trust me. Let him rule the world and all your children. Here we will stay. Forever.”
“But what can we do? We’re stuck here, aren’t we?” Diana says.
“Please don’t say-“ you begin.
“Not exactly,” Morgaine answers.
“That,” you finish as your shoulders slump.
“The spell only banishes adults.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” you and John say together.
“It’s the only way,” Morgaine says.
“We have to do it,” Clark announces.
John exhales deeply, and you step back to be at Bruce’s side again. Magic has never been your preferred battle, and as Morgaine directs her spell at you and everything turns green, you clutch Bruce’s cape in your hand.
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When you arrive in Mordred’s amusement park-turned-kingdom, you’re ready to leave. Being turned into a kid again wasn’t exactly on your superhero bingo card, and as a human, you don’t bring much to the fight anyway.
“I hope this is temporary,” Bruce complains.
You look over at him and feel butterflies in your stomach. Despite de-aging, you still have a crush on Bruce, but it hits harder and faster. You tear your eyes away from him and try to calm your racing heart. Each moment you live as a kid, you’ll start acting more like one.
“You sound weird,” Clark says. “Whoa. So do I.”
Diana looks between Clark and John before straightening her shoulders. She towers over them and smiles. “I kind of like this.”
“Why are you squinting?” you ask John.
Bruce, Clark, and Diana look over after you ask, and you drop your eyes to avoid looking at Bruce again.
“I wore glasses as a kid. Guess I need ‘em again,” John answers.
A pair of oversized green glasses appear on his face, and he jumps in surprise. They’re nothing like what adult John would create, and you stifle a laugh at the sight of them.
“I didn’t even try to make these!” he exclaims.
Clark laughs as Bruce says, “I hope not.”
You pat John’s back as he focuses on making nicer glasses. Once he’s ready and Clark compliments his new look, Diana reminds you that you’re supposed to be looking for Mordred.
“Bet the little punk’s in there,” Bruce says.
He points to the castle looming in the distance and begins running. You run behind him and watch as Diana, Clark, and John fly past you.
“It’s not a race,” Bruce grumbles.
He speeds up, but you keep your pace and make it to the castle all the same. Despite the earlier teasing about John’s glasses, none of you have mentioned any differences between the kid and adult versions of one another. You’re thankful, though, because reliving your childhood is not your favorite pastime. When you enter the castle, you stay behind Bruce as he stands beside Diana.
“The Justice Babies!” Mordred calls before laughing.
“What are you laughing at, precious?” Bruce asks.
“Precious?” you repeat.
“You,” Mordred answers. “Mother sent you, didn’t she?”
“Maybe she wanted a chance to have a normal kid,” you taunt.
“She shouldn’t send a boy to do a man’s job,” Mordred tells Bruce.
He grabs the amulet, and you watch as a young boy’s toys come to life. They grow until they’re giant, and you stumble backward before running for cover. When Clark flies into one of them and is knocked to the floor, you begin questioning if it was truly a good idea to become kids to fight a boy with powerful magic.
“Bruce, batarang,” you request.
He hands you one before running toward Mordred. You wait for one of the toys to run toward you before sliding between its legs.
“I’ll make a laser cannon. No, a missile launcher,” John says above you. “Oh! Oh, I know.”
“Just pick something!” you and Bruce yell together.
You dig the batarang into the back of the toy’s leg and roll to the side as it collapses to the ground before disappearing. Bruce and John take one out, while Clark disables the other with his laser vision.
When you hear Bruce grunting and see him dangling from his cape in the grip of the last toy, you gasp and run toward him. Diana beats you there and catches him.
“You okay, tough guy?” she asks.
“Let go. I’m fine,” Bruce demands as he struggles to get out of her hold.
His shoulders drop and his cape surrounds him as he sulks. You don’t ask the same question Diana had but thank him for the batarang as he passes.
“That’s not fair,” Mordred complains.
“Get him!” Bruce calls.
You run behind Diana and aren’t surprised when you’re all encased in ice. Mordred is powerful, and you and your fellow “Justice Babies” seem to be forgetting that. When you fall into a dungeon and are freed from the ice, you scoot toward Bruce. One of the cells opens, and red eyes glow within. You clutch Bruce’s cape and watch as a small demon walks out.
“Etrigan?” Bruce asks.
He steps away from you, and his cape slips through your fingers. You stay behind John’s forcefield as Diana lifts Bruce out of the way of Etrigan’s flame. Diana has been closer to Bruce during this mission than usual, and the butterflies in your stomach start causing more pain than happiness as you wonder if they’ve been hiding feelings for one another in the Watchtower, too.
“Don’t hurt him!” Bruce yells as Clark pulls Etrigan away from you and John.
Etrigan bites Clark’s arm, and he calls, “Tell him that!”
“C’mere,” you tell Etrigan. You crouch to the floor and pull him into your arms. “Stop!”
He calms down, and Diana helps Bruce up as Etrigan cries. You look at Bruce and shrug.
“He’s just a baby,” Diana says.
“And he needs more than a hug,” John adds, waving his hand in front of his nose.
“Now, that is a job for Superman,” Bruce says.
Bruce takes Etrigan from your arms and passes him to Clark. When Bruce takes your hand to lead you out of the dungeon, you nearly trip over your own feet. You’ve never been more ready to grow up before, you think.
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Mordred’s new kingdom is comprised mostly of children doing what they were never allowed to do before. When you walk through the paths surrounding what used to be the center of the park, you are surrounded by children doing dangerous stunts and breaking rules.
“You two, knock that off!” Clark demands when he sees two boys playing with wooden swords.
“What are you gonna do? You’re just a kid,” they taunt.
Clark shoots a laser between them and answers, “I’m the kid with laser beams coming out of his eyes.”
“That’s just gonna scare them,” you interject before they run away screaming. “You can’t threaten kids the same way you threaten criminals.”
“Then what do we do?” John asks.
“Tattle,” Diana answers. She flies to an elevated area and yells, “That’s enough!”
Everyone freezes, and you find yourself reaching for Bruce.
“You can’t tell us what to do! You’re not our mom!” someone replies.
“No, but I promise you we will find all of your moms and I’m gonna tell!” Diana answers.
“Well, what should we do?”
“Go outside and wait for your parents. Now!” Diana demands with a hand on her hip.
“Man, your girlfriend sure is bossy,” John tells Bruce.
“Shut up,” he replies before leaving John’s side.
Those butterflies in your stomach become dead weight. You stall behind John, but he turns to look at you.
“You like Bruce,” he accuses.
“What? No!” you answer too quickly. “We’re friends.”
“Mmhmm.”
John gestures for you to come with him, and you follow Bruce together. You know that John knows more than he ever lets on, and if anyone found out about your crush, you suppose you should be glad that it’s the one who can keep a secret. Better him than Wally.
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“He’s almost asleep,” Diana whispers as you look into Mordred’s hideout. “We can take him.”
“I’ll make a lawnmower and chew him up,” John suggests.
“A lawnmower?” you repeat incredulously. “Why?”
“I say we get that amulet away from him first,” Bruce says. “We’ll split up and sneak behind him. Then Lantern can do his thing. But no mowers.”
“Why?” John questions.
“Because it’s stupid,” Clark answers.
“He’ll hear it, too,” you whisper with much more kindness than Clark.
“I guess I’ll go with Clark,” Diana says. “Unless I should go with you,” she tells Bruce.
“Whatever,” Bruce answers.
John sees your eyes drop and says, “Clark can go alone. I’ll go with Diana.”
You appreciate it but shake your head because you don’t want to be left alone with Bruce.
“Whatever,” Bruce repeats.
“Go,” John whispers.
You lead Bruce around the side of the cave, and John shakes his head as he watches you go.
“What’s with them?” Clark asks.
“Really?” Diana questions.
“Man, for somebody with fifty different kinds of vision you are so blind,” John responds.
“What?”
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“Is that a claw?” you ask Bruce as John tries to get the amulet.
“Unfortunately,” he answers.
He may be young, but his sarcasm hasn’t changed a bit. You lean against him when John’s claw wavers before disappearing. The amulet falls to Mordred’s chest, and Bruce moves you carefully as he calls, “Get the amulet!”
You join Bruce, Diana, Clark, and John in a failing attempt to hold Mordred down and take the amulet. He uses his magic to grow and throws Bruce and Diana off of him before standing. A young girl is standing nearby, and you take her hand to lead her to safety as the others fight Mordred.
“Bats!” you yell, just as you had as an adult this morning.
Bruce looks back and sees the living gargoyle chasing him and John and directs John toward a small bridge.
“Close the door!” you yell as Bruce enters the castle.
Diana closes and locks the door behind him, and you listen to John come up with complicated plans to stop Mordred as Bruce thinks.
“Forget it!” Bruce calls after John mentions giant handcuffs. “We’ve got to focus on…” Bruce’s eyes lock with yours and he says, “Never mind what I just said. We’ll take care of everything else. Lantern, you go crazy.”
“What are you going to do?” you ask.
“It’s time for all of us to grow up,” Bruce answers.
He takes your hand before running toward another area of the kingdom. Your butterflies begin reviving, and you wonder if anything will be the same after this.
“Go!” he yells to Clark.
Clark pulls the amulet from Mordred’s neck while he’s distracted by John before tossing it to Bruce.
“This is the most dangerous game of keep away I’ve ever played,” you yell as you take the amulet from Bruce and run it to Diana. Diana throws it to Etrigan, and you flinch when he bites into it. The wave of purple magic that escapes it is unsettling, but you don’t take your eyes off Mordred.
“I already absorbed too much of the amulet’s power,” Mordred says as he stands.
He uses his magic to suspend all of you, and Etrigan, upside down in the air. He pulls a sword from a nearby stone, and it turns purple before reappearing as a curved blade.
“I’ll take care of my kingly duty myself,” he declares.
“Is he really going to behead us in an amusement park?” you ask with your arms crossed over your chest.
“I’m scared,” the girl you helped earlier says. “I want my mommy.”
Mordred lowers his blade to say, “You don’t need a mommy. You’re better off without one. Trust me.”
“Ooh, mommy issues,” John muses. “Those ain’t easy.”
The girl begins crying and Clark taunts, “Some king.”
“I’m not impressed,” Diana agrees.
“What’d you expect? He���s a boy doing a man’s job,” Bruce finishes.
“You don’t know what it’s like being stuck as a kid,” Mordred says.
“Since you’ve had all that power, you could have been a man anytime you wanted. I think you’re too chicken to grow up.”
“Yep, big chicken. That’s what you are,” John agrees, flapping his arms like wings. “Bock, bock.”
“Face it, precious,” Bruce continues. “You like being a little mama’s boy.”
“I’ll show you!” Mordred yells. “I’ll show you all.”
“Sure, you will,” you agree with an eye roll.
“And when I am a true kind, I’ll start with the human!” Mordred adds, pointing to you.
Bruce looks at you, but you keep your eyes on Mordred as he spreads his arms and is surrounded by purple ribbons of magic. Etrigan claps as Mordred’s spell spreads, and he reappears as a man.
“I’m older than you now,” Mordred says as he turns to face you.
The magic released his spell, and you catch yourself as you fall from the air.
“You sure are,” Bruce says.
Mordred disappears, banished by his own spell. As an adult, he couldn’t stay, and now you can only wait until Morgaine does her part. Bruce steps to your side and you turn your face toward him.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” you answer just before Morgaine appears.
“A bargain is a bargain,” she says as she waves her hand before you.
The spell is lifted, and you are an adult again in only a second. You hadn’t prepared for the change in size however and are pressed against Bruce’s chest with the sudden growth. He makes no move to get space from you, though.
“Mommy,” Etrigan coos at Diana.
She drops him and steps back. You chuckle at the scene and Diana looks at you with furrowed brows before smiling and rolling her eyes.
Morgaine opens a portal, and Bruce places a hand on your hip as he steps around you.
“Wait,” he calls. “What happened to Mordred?”
“My spell gave him eternal youth but now that he’s broken it all he has is eternal life,” she answers.
“Circumstances aside, it was kind of enjoyable to be a kid again,” Diana says.
You walk to Bruce’s side and watch the happy reunions of children with their parents.
“I’m sorry,” you offer softly.
“For what?” he asks.
“You just- you didn’t get to be a kid like the rest of us.”
“Perhaps Diana was right. It wasn’t completely unenjoyable.”
He turns toward you, and his arm is pressed to your shoulder.
“You’re telling me the big, bad bat had a little bit of fun?” you tease.
“You never talk about your childhood,” he deflects. “So, I’m sorry if this brought up bad memories.”
“Just dead butterflies,” you answer.
Bruce glares at you, but it’s the one unique to when he’s reading you.
“Is that why Lantern sent us off alone together?”
You look down as you nod.
“My butterflies are alive and well, and happy to wait for you,” Bruce murmurs.
“Butterflies or bats?” you ask.
“Should we be having this conversation in an amusement park?”
“You’re right. Let’s go to Metropolis and make the cover of the Daily Planet so Clark has to write all about it.”
Bruce sighs, but he takes your hand as he leads you outside the amusement park. He presses a button on his utility belt and the Batmobile pulls up a moment later.
“Bruce,” you say once you’re inside. “You were a really cute kid.”
“You were really bad at eye contact,” Bruce counters. “Or was that just with me?”
“I guess crushes aren’t just for kids,” you muse.
“Maybe Diana will stop pestering me to ask you out now.”
You nod as you watch the road before you. It takes a moment, but you finally understand what Bruce just said.
“What?”
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
Text
Accidental CI
Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x fem!reader
Summary: When your employer's name comes up in a case, your best friend Deacon calls to ask for your help. He leads you into a dangerous situation, and you come out as more than friends.
Warnings: r works an unspecified corporate job, mentions weapon trafficking and guns, threats, mostly fluff!
Word Count: 3.1k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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“Hi, Deac,” you greet as you open the door.
“How was work?” he asks.
“It was fine. My boss forgot to start a software update last night so we didn’t have computer access until after lunch.”
“So, you got paid to sit there and do nothing?”
“Which isn’t that much different than most days,” you tease. “What about you? Any crazy calls?”
You lead Deacon into your kitchen, and his smile widens when he sees dinner waiting on your counter. He pulls you into a quick hug before telling you about his day at work.
“No injuries?” you ask softly.
“No injuries,” he assures. “What about you; any paper cuts that need tending to?”
“Just mental injuries for me. Our financial statements aren’t aligning like they should and if it’s not fixed by the next audit, someone’s getting in trouble.”
“What do you think caused it?”
“Oversight or adding the same bill twice, I’d guess. But I think we should talk about something more exciting than my future IRS investigation.”
“Then let’s talk about that amazing dinner over there and I’ll remind you that Luca wants to have a cooking competition with you.”
Deacon has been your best friend since he moved in next door. You also harbor an ever-growing crush on him. When you saw him climb out of the moving truck the first day, you knew you wanted to be close. He’s got a stressful job, so if you can give him a break and a friend, that’s what you’ll do.
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Deacon watches the screen in the situation room as Hondo explains the corporate espionage turned weapon trafficking case. It's a strange move, going from stealing trade secrets to transporting illegal weapons across borders and into areas with strict gun control laws. Metro found a lot of evidence, but when they located the weapons supply in their prime suspect’s corporate office, they called in 20 Squad.
“Wait, go back. Who’s the suspect?” Deacon asks.
His eyes search the monitor as Hondo returns to a page of surveillance photos.
“Elwin Dupree. You know him?” Hondo responds.
“Not personally, but I know someone who works for him.”
“CI?” Chris guesses.
“No. She might be willing to help, though.”
“Call her,” Hondo says.
Hicks adds, “Otherwise, we’re going in blind. Metro has intel but it’s not enough to avoid an ambush.”
Deacon nods and walks out of the room. He presses a contact from his favorites list before raising his phone to his ear.
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“Remind me why we work here?” your desk neighbor, whom you lovingly call Nola, says as she sits across from you.
“Because the pay is good… and we’re desperate,” you offer, smiling as you accept your favorite drink.
“May I remind you that Dupree is an idiot who can’t even remember what he asks us to do?”
“Just smile and go with it, Nola, it’s the easiest way to handle it.”
“The man called me into his office yesterday, and then didn’t know why I was there,” she whispers.
“That’s probably a good thing for you. Considering your nickname is based off of your reply of no; lazy.”
“I am lazy! So, I don’t like to do things. He can fire me whenever he wants.”
You roll your eyes and prepare to reply but are interrupted by your cell phone ringing. You apologize to Nola before you answer it.
“Hey, it’s me,” Deacon says on the other end of the line.
“Indeed, it is. What’s going on?” you reply.
“How do you know something is going on?”
“It’s mid-morning on a weekday. And you never call me.”
“I call you all the time!” Deacon argues.
You laugh before you say, “Not when you’re at work.”
“Okay, fine, you’re right. Listen, we’re working on something, and your boss’s name came up.”
“Dupree?” you inquire. “Why?”
“I can’t tell you exactly what we’re looking into, but Hondo and Hicks wanted to know if you’d be willing to help us.”
“Of course. Tell me what to do,” you agree.
“Can you come down here?”
“Uh, yeah,” you answer. You open the calendar on your computer and add, “I can spare an hour and a half, is that enough time?”
“Absolutely. Thank you,” Deacon says.
“Anything for you.”
You hang up and gather your things before standing.
“Where are you off to? Please tell me you’re leaving to go on a date with the hot neighbor you always talk about,” Nola whispers.
“Not today. There was a slight mishap for some of our paperwork. I have to run to another office and get everything sorted out,” you lie. “I’ll have my cell if you need anything.”
“Dodging bullets left and right, aren’t you? Go ahead, I’ll watch your phone and fill in Dupree if he notices you’re gone.”
“Thanks, Nola.”
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When you park outside the station, your thoughts begin spiraling. You sit in your seat and wonder if you made the right decision. Will you be in Deacon’s way or be too distracted by him to even help? What if something happens to him while you’re with him? What if he-
A tap on your window draws you from your questions. You turn your head and see Deacon looking at you through the glass. You send him a small smile as he opens your door and bends to look at you. His head tilts to this side, and when he lowers to a squat, his brown eyes distract you as he looks up at you.
“You okay? You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he says gently.
“No, I want to. Just- I was thinking too much, I guess,” you reply.
Deacon nods and stands before offering his hand to help you out of your seat. He closes the door and ensures it’s locked before moving his hand to your back to lead you inside.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Hondo,” Hondo says as you enter.
You shake Hondo’s hand and introduce yourself as you follow him further into the station. He doesn’t waste any time as he begins explaining as much as he can about how your boss is involved in the case they’re working.
“We’d like to send you in the get additional details on the office and any other information you can find,” Hondo says. “We’ve got basic floor plans, but we need insider info.”
“She can’t go in alone,” Deacon argues. “We don’t know what he has in that office. If she starts asking questions and he gets suspicious-“
You cut Deacon off by laying a hand on his shoulder and asking, “What if you go in with me? It wouldn’t be that hard for me to lie about who you are; Dupree doesn’t know most of the people who work in the building. Plus, you know what to look for better than I do.”
Hondo looks at Deacon and waits for his reply. You feel Deacon sigh against your hand before agreeing to go into the office with you.
“There’s an employee entrance without metal detectors, but you have to swipe a keycard,” you explain. “They’ll know if you piggyback with me.”
“Our techs can make him a keycard,” Hondo assures. “If you have yours, they can copy parts of it.”
You nod and pass your card to Hondo. He turns and gives it to a passing officer with a few short instructions. Deacon pats your arm as he leaves to change; his uniform isn’t business casual, but he said he'd find something more fitting.
“20 Squad is going to be close by,” Hondo begins. “Deacon can say a word and we’ll be inside, but if you need help and get separated from Deacon, try to get to a window. Signaling for help is easiest with this; just keep it in your pocket or your hand and press the button if you need us.”
You accept the small device and slide it into your pocket. It’s invisible, and you nod as Hondo reassures you everything will be okay.
“I know you can’t tell me what exactly Dupree is doing, but you’re going to catch him, right?” you ask softly.
“Absolutely. Nobody can run from S.W.A.T.”
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You scan your keycard and wait for Deacon to do the same before opening the door. The employee entrance is on the side of the building, and you smooth your hands over your hips nervously. When you feel the device Hondo gave you, you relax slightly.
“We’ll walk to my desk, look at a few papers, and then go in?” you suggest as Deacon gestures for you to enter.
“Sounds good,” he agrees.
“The suit looks good,” you mumble as you walk toward the elevator.
Deacon chuckles as the elevator door opens, and you smile as he shakes his head at your flattery. The elevator is quiet, and as you wait to arrive on your floor, you take a few deep breaths. Deacon’s hand finds your lower back, and he rubs small, comforting circles before the door opens.
“Still working on the paperwork issue?” Nola asks when you reach your desk.
“Yeah, we are. This is Ryan from the Santa Monica branch,” you say.
Nola’s eyes narrow at you before she looks at Deacon’s hand. He’s close to you, like always, but you don’t understand her look. You raise your brows, but she only shrugs before looking back at her computer.
“Was it this one?” you ask Deacon.
He takes the blank form from your hand and nods. “Yes, this is the one.”
You return the paper to its rightful place on your desk before leading Deacon down another hallway. Nola’s reaction confused you at first, yet you’re not surprised when Deacon gently grabs your hip to stop you in the hallway.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper.
“It’s fine. Just stay calm and remember our covers. Like you said, Dupree won’t know any difference,” Deacon soothes. “And the team’s waiting for our signal if we need them.”
You nod, and Deacon’s hands raise to your shoulders as he drops his chin to look into your eyes.
“You got this,” he promises.
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“I need to discuss an urgent matter with Mr. Dupree,” you inform his secretary. “This is Mr. Ryan Davidson from the Santa Monica branch. There have been some discrepancies with paperwork submitted to their office, which needs Mr. Dupree’s immediate attention.”
His secretary raises the receiver of her desk phone and whispers into it. You turn to look at Deacon, and he tilts his head to the left to signal you to stay calm and wait.
“You can go on in,” the secretary says as she lowers the phone.
Deacon opens the door for you, and you step inside first.
“Hello,” Mr. Dupree greets. He doesn’t pretend to remember your name, you notice. “I heard there’s an issue with some paperwork?”
“Yes, sir,” Deacon says. “I’m Ryan Davidson with the Santa Monica office and we’ve been having issues; receiving incomplete or incorrect paperwork from this branch.”
“My sincerest apologies, Ryan. If you don’t mind, use that laptop there and sign into your account while I bring mine up. We’ll get this sorted.”
You stand back as Deacon walks to the table at the back of the office and opens the laptop. Mr. Dupree didn’t shake his hand, ask for identification, or take other proper steps before jumping to help. It’s suspicious, but probably not what Deacon and his team need.
“What kind of incorrect information have you seen?” Mr. Dupree asks. You open your mouth to answer, and he adds, “Ryan?”
“Financial statements that aren’t matching previous months, for one. Most likely an oversight or adding the same bill twice. Nothing too extreme, just something we need sorted before the end-of-year audits,” Deacon answers.
You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his response. He practically repeated a complaint you shared during your last dinner together.
“Very well. I don’t know why the system is moving so slowly,” Dupree responds. He moves his hand under his desk as Deacon types.
You watch Dupree because Deacon’s team is getting him the access he needs. When you see the handle of a gun gripped in Dupree’s hand, you call, “Gun!” and drop to the floor just before he shoots above your head.
Deacon pulls his own weapon and points it at Dupree as he demands, “Put the gun down. I’m Sergeant Kay, L.A.P.D. S.W.A.T.”
As Deacon speaks, you slowly press your back against the side of Dupree’s desk, where he can’t see you. Deacon’s eyes are on Dupree, but you watch Deacon because you trust him to keep you safe.
“I could put it down,” Dupree says. “But if I angle it like this and pull the trigger, wouldn’t it hit your little friend?”
Deacon glances at you quickly, and you lock eyes before you shift away from the oversized desk.
“One more time: drop the gun,” Deacon repeats.
You can’t see Dupree, but you clap your hands over your ears as you hear two shots. Everything goes quiet, and you lean forward slowly to look for Deacon. He kneels before you and gently pulls your hands away from your head. You let him move you before surging forward to hug him. He welcomes you into his arms as footsteps echo in the hallway outside.
“It’s okay. We got him,” Deacon promises.
You nod against Deacon and allow him to help you stand. Deacon keeps you angled away from Dupree’s desk, and you’re happy to avoid looking.
“Did you get everything you need?” you ask quietly as Street and Luca lead a paramedic inside.
“We did. Are you okay?”
Deacon lays a hand on your shoulder, and his thumb presses gently into your tense muscles as he looks into your eyes.
“Get her out of here. Hondo said you can take the rest of the day. Maybe she can practice for the competition,” Luca calls.
“I think you need the practice more than me,” you reply without turning.
Luca laughs as Deacon wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you out of the office. He takes you back to your desk to get your things, and Nola rushes to hug you when you enter the open area.
“I heard the shots and was so worried!” she exclaims. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” you promise.
 “Then I need you to do something. Go home and ask your neighbor out. Don’t wait too long,” she says.
You nod and return to Deacon’s side. He heard everything from where he was standing, yet doesn’t comment as he helps you into the passenger seat of his car. Once you’re on the road, he fills the silence by asking you questions about what you will cook for your competition with Luca. You know he’s trying to distract you from what happened, and you appreciate it.
Back at the station, you sign some paperwork to receive CI benefits before walking to Deacon’s side. He offers to drive you home and keep you company, which you happily accept. You never like leaving Deacon and don’t want to be alone tonight.
“I waited too long,” Deacon murmurs while walking you out.
You stop and turn to face him as you ask, “For what?”
“What your friend said. I waited too long to ask you out.”
You smile and slide your hand into his. “Did you know that Nola looked at us like that because you were standing really close to me?" Deacon shrugs, and you explain, “I never shut up about you, Deac. I’m in love with you, so she was confused about why I was standing so close to another man.”
“Never?” Deacon repeats playfully.
“You didn’t wait too long, Deac,” you promise.
“I didn’t?”
“Not if you take your chance right now.”
Deacon looks around quickly before yelling, “Hicks! Did you file it yet?”
“No; I’m busy, Deacon,” Hicks answers.
“Can you make her Hondo’s CI?”
Hicks looks between the two of you and rolls his eyes. “Yes, I can.”
When Deacon turns back to you, he doesn’t give you time to speak before he asks, “Will you go out with me?”
“Nothing would make me happier,” you answer.
Your smile grows to match Deacon’s, but he makes it disappear when he pulls you in and kisses you. The sound of clapping makes you open your eyes as you pull back. Hondo leads 20 Squad in a round of applause, and you bury your face in Deacon’s chest to hide your grin and burning embarrassment.
“My CI’s never end up like this,” Hondo jokes.
“Pretty good timing, though, wasn’t it?” Deacon asks as he wraps his arms around you.
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You stand wordlessly from the couch and walk past Deacon. He turns to watch you as you enter your bathroom and close the door. It only takes a moment for him to decide to follow you.
“Are you okay?” Deacon asks from outside the door. “And don’t just say you’re fine. We both know you’re not.”
You open the door and lean against the vanity as he walks in. “I feel bad that you had to shoot Dupree. I know he’s fine and he’ll recover, pay for him crimes, and everything. But you probably wouldn’t have done that if I wasn’t there.”
“Don’t think like that. If he had refused to drop the gun or fired again, I would have stopped him. Whether you were there or not. The only thing that was different was how fast I decided to do it; he was threatening you, but that didn’t affect my reaction itself.”
You nod, and Deacon places his hands on the vanity, caging you and keeping you close. “Don’t carry that guilt around,” he requests. “It gets heavy quickly.”
You slip your arms under Deacon’s to circle his waist. Because of your position, you look up at him and ask, “Could I have another kiss to help me overcome all of this guilt?”
Deacon laughs as his hand raises to rub your back. “Anything for my accidental CI.”
“I’m Hondo’s CI,” you remind him.
“But I’m the one that gets to kiss you, so who has the better timing?”
You let your kiss answer the question, and when Deacon pulls you against him to be even closer, you know that the wait was worth it. Though you probably won’t agree to go into the office of a weapon trafficker with him again, you will always be ready to help him when he asks and comfort him when he can’t. Despite how much you loved Deacon when you thought you could only be friends, you feel more love now that you know he feels the same.
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
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Part 2 of constant faith: Tim finds out how reader got into faith, r reveals that she had a bad up bringing that landed her in jail at 17, she admits that she does indeed have sins and that they felt like a burden until she was introduced to the Bible, she was only calm during the event because she was once the person behind the gun and she prays that she too can help those who are hurting, maybe a side job could be a grief counselor or a therapist of sorts since a worship pastor doesn't make quite a lot of bank...anyway, Tim finds her enduring and reveals his tough upbringing with his dad and is glad that she had so much strength to overcome it.
Oh, I love this!! I hope you enjoy and thank you for the great request! I think I changed a couple tiny details but this is one of my favorite requests to date.🤍
Read it here: Constant Faith and the Life it Brings
I may have also included some of my past and present, and am now feeling like the reader because I should share my story more often. :)
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 days
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Constant Faith and the Life it Brings
Part 2 of Constant Faith | Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!worship pastor!reader
Summary: After your church is robbed, Tim learns how you got into faith and helps you learn to share your story.
Warnings: mentions of armed robbery and past arrests, basically a testimony based on the request, fluff and comfort
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
A/N: I loved writing this!! The worship pastor!r dynamic is right up my alley and I definitely sprinkled little parts of my own testimony and time in church in here.😊
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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The days following the robbery are strange, but you believe in promises and know that God and Tim keep them. As Tim helps the robbery unit work the case, you meet with different church members to pray together.
When Sunday rolls around, and the sanctuary is still treated as an active crime scene, your pastor welcomes everyone into his home for service and fellowship. You lead worship as usual, but hearing all the voices mixing and praising God together, trusting that He has the situation in His hand and would use it for His purpose, is a unique and beautiful experience. One you wouldn’t have had without a walk through the valley of the shadow, you think as you finish a song.
As you go home Sunday afternoon, you think about everything that has led you to this exact moment in your life and your faith. There are parts of your testimony you don’t like sharing with just anyone, not because you doubt what God has done for you or want to keep His message to yourself, but because it brings up memories that remind you of a painful time. Living through an armed robbery and experiencing how much your church family loves and cares for one another, however, gives you strength and encouragement that your story could help others who are in similar circumstances. That inherent need to help others who are hurting, to be there for them, is precisely what led you to become a therapist when you’re not singing at church.
Tuesday morning, your pastor sends out a video message with excellent news. He tells you and the rest of the church members that the offering collected on Sunday not only met their usual numbers but replenished the money that had been stolen. You’re unsure if God encouraged everyone to give a bit more and support His house or if one generous donor knew what had happened. Regardless, the church isn’t in fiscal danger, which is great but not the best part.
“The L.A.P.D. contacted me this morning to inform me that the thieves were apprehended and offered a full confession,” he adds. “In addition, they have recovered everything stolen from the safe and it will be returned to us in due time. Now if that isn’t proof that our God still works miracles, I don’t know what is!”
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“I think that was the best run-through we’ve had in weeks!” Jerry applauds. “Not that they’re usually bad, you know.”
“We do,” you promise with a smile. “But, I agree, that was great! We’re back in the sanctuary Sunday, so let’s have a great service and welcome everyone back into church.”
You watch the worship team gather their things and leave, but you look up at the empty cross on the wall. Your Bible is lying with your things, and you squat to pick it up as Jerry exits the audio booth.
“You alright?” he asks softly.
“Yeah, I’m good. I think I’m just…”
“I understand. You’ve got keys, so take your time. We’re all here if you need us.”
You nod your thanks and wait until he leaves to sit in the front pew. Holding your Bible in your lap, you close your eyes and begin praying. You thank God for everything, including Tim, and you pray for him, too. He’s a big part of your life, even if he doesn’t know how much he’s done for you.
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“Can I help you, Officer?” Jerry asks as he exits the church. “Or are you here on personal business?”
Tim is waiting beside his truck, dressed in his patrol uniform. He looks up when Jerry exits, and Jerry hides a smile at Tim’s disappointed look. Most of your church family knows about Tim, and Jerry knows who the officer before him is and what – or who – he’s there for.
“Just waiting for her,” Tim says.
“She’s in the sanctuary; may be a few minutes. You’re welcome to go in if you’d like.”
Tim looks over Jerry’s shoulder to the door and nods. He thanks Jerry and watches him walk away. You’re more at home here than anyone else, yet Tim doesn’t feel as if he’s trespassing when he walks through the front door and navigates to the sanctuary entrance.
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The pew dips beside you, and you look up from your Bible quickly and see Tim looking at the stage. He doesn’t speak as he joins you, but his hand is stretched toward you.
“Sorry,” you murmur.
Your finger holds your place in the New Testament, the fitting story of Jesus and the “den of thieves.” Tim shakes his head and tells you to take your time. He sits back and closes his eyes. Maybe Tim is praying or giving you the privacy he thinks you need. Either way, you appreciate him and are glad he’s beside you.
“I- thank you for working so hard and catching them,” you begin. “On Sunday, we received enough money from tithing to make up for what was stolen. Between that and the arrest, I should be, I don’t know, jumping for joy or something.”
“But?” Tim presses kindly.
“It reminded me of my past,” you whisper. “And I’ve just been thinking that I can do more- that I should do more.”
“Do more how?”
You look at Tim, and his eyes are already on you. His focus on the here and now is appreciated, but he can’t understand what you mean until you tell him about your past. More than Tim, you can’t do what the Lord is calling you to do without learning to share painful memories.
“I had a really bad childhood; my upbringing, I guess you could say, was rough, Tim. Growing up, I never felt like I belonged or was loved, even in my own house, around people who were supposed to love me and protect me. So, I learned how to look out for myself and provide for myself, but I didn’t always do it right.”
Your eyes drop from Tim’s to look at your Bible instead. Tim keeps his eyes on your face as you speak, and his hand inches closer to your side.
“When those men came in here and demanded to know where the money was… part of why I stayed so calm is because I’ve been that person before. I was behind the gun once and it landed me in juvie at 17. I didn’t know why they charged me as a minor. I didn’t understand anything until I found this.”
You point to your Bible and pause. Tim doesn’t press, though you’re sure he has questions about your previous arrest. Because you went to juvie and were a minor with no prior record, everything was expunged, and most people would never know it happened.
“Someone introduced me to the Bible,” you continue. “I was carrying around so many sins, and they were a burden that never lightened. Initially, I thought it was desperation or boredom, anything other than a need for a Savior. I started reading and it felt like every sentence was written to me specifically. The thief on the cross beside Jesus, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and forgiveness of sins while healing physical infirmities… everything Jesus said and did felt like an invitation. I started praying and I felt that burden start lifting. After I confessed every sin, even the ones no one else knew about, I gave my life to Christ. At that moment, I started praying that God could use me and my past to help others who are hurting.”
You take a deep breath and apologize again. Tim finally moves his hand into yours, and your eyes drift to his.
“That’s what led you to become a therapist? LA’s best grief counselor,” Tim guesses.
You smile and chuckle as you nod.
“You’re good at your job, I’ve always known that. But the fact that you let a situation like that lead you to help others is exceptional. Not many doctors pray for their patients; I’d charge extra for that.”
You push against Tim’s shoulder as your smile grows. “If they’d told me that reading the Bible would lead to having two jobs without facing the price of sin, I wouldn’t have believed them. The worship pastor idea came in later. The day before I was released I read Acts 16. Paul and Silas sing praises in prison, and then there’s an earthquake and the doors are opened. No one leaves, but the jailer sees the doors and prepares to kill himself. Paul and Silas stop him and lead him to repent and be baptized. So, after nights of praying and praising in a cell, I knew I needed to keep doing it.”
Tim has been quiet since the moment he walked in. Though you don’t regret sharing your testimony with him, you begin to worry that he won’t want anything to do with you now. Learning that your girlfriend went to juvie for armed robbery isn’t easy for most people to move on from.
“I understand if you want some time,” you murmur.
Tim’s eyes are still straight ahead. You realize he’s looking at the pulpit in the center of the stage. He squeezes your hand gently, and you take a deep breath. You won't blame him for needing space, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt.
“I had a rough childhood, too. My dad was angry, and he got violent because of that. I actually thought for a while that he killed someone," Tim says.
His voice is rough, but you know why and you're here for him. You lay your other hand over Tim’s and turn to face him. His eyes are still forward, and you understand it can be easier to talk about stuff like this without looking at your audience.
“He was having an affair with a woman who was being abused. She killed her husband and my dad covered for her. That- that moment when he confessed and he seemed like a good man… it went against everything I had ever seen. He was a monster, and everything that I am is despite what my dad did.”
Tim turns toward you, and you see tears gathering in his eyes. It hurts to relive past pains, but your entire life is founded upon a belief that you don’t have to do it alone.
“I don’t want time or space. Your past made you the woman I love, and the strength and love you found during your darkest night… your story is special.”
“I could do more,” you whisper. “I don’t tell enough people.”
“You told me. That’s a start, right?”
You nod and lean your head against Tim’s shoulder. Your Bible folds closed with your movement, and you remember that your unshakeable faith will get you through the hard days to come, and telling your story may allow someone else to see the strength Christ offers.
“You’re amazing,” you say against Tim’s shirt. “Everything that you are, all that you do, shows that your past doesn’t define you.”
Tim turns to kiss your head and wraps an arm around your back.
“Did you come to give me a ride and a hug?” you ask.
“Yes. A ride home and more than one hug.”
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days
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Hi!! I just wanted to drop in and say thank you! I know I haven’t written as much lately and there’s been a lack of fics for certain characters while I focus on my current college classes, but I really appreciate all of you for supporting me and my writing. I’m looking forward to reopening requests soon and doing some new things on this blog over the summer!!🫶🏼
And for the few of you who have wished me well and asked about my classes, they’re going well! I’m over halfway done with my novella for one class and about to start drafting the first chapter of a mystery novel for the other!
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days
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Get attacked!! ❤️✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨❤️
Ah, thank you!!!!
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fluentmoviequoter · 4 days
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The Better, Not So Hidden Half
Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader
Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.
Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging
Word Count: 1.9k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
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When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.
Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.
“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.
“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.
Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.
“About what?” you reply.
“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”
“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”
Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.
“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”
“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”
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When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.
“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.
“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.
“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”
“Is he okay?” you whisper.
“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”
You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.
“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.
“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.
“Lucy, please.”
“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.
“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.
“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”
You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.
“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.
“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”
Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.
“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.
Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.
“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”
“The place where they met,” Talia answers.
Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”
“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”
“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”
“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”
“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.
“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.
She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).
“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.
“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.
“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.
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Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.
You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.
“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.
“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.
His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.
“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.
“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”
Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.
“Had to take this off,” he tells you.
You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.
“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.
“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.
“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.
“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”
“I warned you.”
“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.
Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.
“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.
“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”
“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.
“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”
Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”
“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”
Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.
“Hi again,” she tells you.
“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.
“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.
“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”
“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.
“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”
Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.
You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.
“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.
“Don’t,” you warn.
“You kissed me first.”
“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”
“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”
“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.
“I love you,” Tim replies.
He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.
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fluentmoviequoter · 4 days
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to being ghosts.
Chapter 6 - Your Ghost
Chapter Warnings: takes place 6 months after ch 5, brief angst, mentions of Vic's parental trauma, references to previous torture and scars, fluff and happy ending. 1.1k+ words.
6 Months Later
“Wait, you’re an EO?” the barista asks. “That’s awesome. Do you mind me asking what your power is?”
“Uh, thanks. I can raise the dead,” Sydney answers softly.
“Sick. Is that your dog? He’s adorable.”
Dol barks in answer, and Sydney gestures for him to return to the table.
“There’s a few EOs here that I work with but none of them have powers that cool. One of them can heat things, though, which comes in handy in a coffee shop.”
“I bet,” Sydney murmurs. She accepts her hot chocolate and escapes with a “thank you” before she has to answer any other questions about her powers.
“Still think the new world is better than the NWC?” Mitch asks with a smile.
“Yes and no. The whole ‘EOs are welcome to live as the people they are’ is great, but everyone talking about being EOs is weird. Some guy told me that it meant I not only looked extraordinary but was ExtraOrdinary, so pickup lines haven’t improved.”
“Maybe don’t tell Vic about the flirting part.”
“If we ever see him again,” Sydney says into her cup.
“He did like San Francisco,” Mitch muses. “We could always just start looking for him.”
“I don’t think he’d go back there,” Sydney answers, looking over Mitch’s head.
“Why?” Mitch inquires.
She gestures to the television screen mounted over the door with her chin. “Because she’s not there,” she says.
Mitch sees you on television, once again denying your role in the war against the New World Charter. He smiles, and Sydney stands with her cup before calling Dol. They have a home to call their own now, and though Victor comes and goes as he pleases, the family of misfits he’s created finally feels like a real family. Sydney, Mitch, and Dol head home and ignore your interview because the story hasn’t changed, no matter how much praise you receive.
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Someone calls your name as you walk out of the city hall building. You see the news van parked by the door and shake your head. Being hailed as a savior isn’t something you enjoy, and you’re ready for something else to happen, so you’re not the center of attention anymore. Despite that, you smile and greet the reporter kindly.
“You are being credited with the new freedom circling the globe following the elimination of the New World Charter. Many people want to know what happened in the black site in Oregon that led to the beginning of your fight for EOs and freedom for all,” she says into the microphone before moving it toward you.
“I don’t know why people think I did so much. That night in Oregon was… terrifying, and I would have died if not for a caring EO who saved me and used the opportunity to do the right thing,” you answer.
“So, you maintain that you had no role in the EO versus NWC war?”
“I do. I mean, look at me, do I look like I could change the world? Anyone can change the world, but it takes a special kind of person to run into danger for others.”
“Thanks for talking to me, then, and enjoy the new world.”
“You, too.”
As she returns to the van and they rush out of the parking lot, hopefully seeking a new story to fixate on, you notice a person standing behind your car. You shake your head and smile when you see the black trench coat below the blond hair.
“Victor Vale,” you greet. “What can I do for you?”
He turns slowly and rakes his eyes over you. You have scars from your time in the Canada region with Smoak and even more from accompanying Victor when he infiltrated the New World Charter headquarters, but that’s not what Victor sees.
“Have you heard her recently?” Victor asks.
“I haven’t. Not since she told me you were good.”
“Angie,” Victor says softly. “Our ghost friend. Her name was Angie Knight.”
“How long have you known?” you ask as you step closer to him.
“Since she told us that Daniels was on our tail. I- I didn’t know how to bring it up or if it would matter.”
“Tell me that it at least gave you some closure. If she came back to help, she can’t be mad at you, Vic.”
Victor looks away and waits a moment before saying, “Someone found Daniels. They started working on that hotel and a worker found the body, called the police.”
You nod and promise, “I’ll make it disappear. My contact in the FBI has a vague idea of how much damage we- I left.”
“So, you’ll take credit for my crimes, but not my heroic efforts?” Victor teases.
“Something like that. Vic, I am forever indebted to you. My entire life is yours. Anything you need, say the word.”
Victor flexes his hands at his sides before asking, “What about some company? Maybe a little government immunity to do one more thing?”
“The company I can certainly provide. But I’m private sector now, Vic, I don’t decide who gets immunity.”
“That’s even better. No one can make you do anything you don’t want to in the private sector, and you can just prove how good you are.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Someone wrote a book about EOs and how unnatural they are. I’d like to show them just how wrong they are.”
You raise your eyebrows to ask, “That wouldn’t be the one by the Vales would it?”
“I hadn’t noticed the authors’ names.”
“I see. If you want to do this one more time, remind these people that EOs are still humans with rights, you know I’m with you all the way.”
“Rights to-“
“Not to break laws, Vic,” you interrupt with a laugh. “I’m starting to think you just use me to be a better criminal.”
“Why not a better human, a better EO?”
You sigh and reach for Victor’s hand as you promise, “I’ve got your back, Victor Vale.”
The war you’ve already won makes this seem like an argument more than a battle, and Victor’s openness with you is the best reward of them all. His comfort around you makes you feel at home anywhere, though you suspect he is about to invite you back to his house, where he and his family live together happily. You’ll always have a home there, too.
“Tell me where you want me and when, and I’ll be there. Or, if you want me to wait beside you until the plan is in place, I can do that, too. Luckily for me, I can have your back from anywhere.”
Victor listens to your promises, feels your touch, and remembers why he trusts you and feels comfortable near you. Victor Vale takes a deep breath, then opens his eyes and smiles.
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 days
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Have I not written a Luca x shy!reader?? The better question is why haven’t I done it yet?
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 days
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Hi! I don’t know if your taking requests still, if not completely ignore this
So I just finished rereading your Tim Bradford x wife artist reader I believe “pictures of you”, and maybe I can request one where Tim and reader are both officers and obviously Chen the is the rookie but what if she’s basically like their child? Yk like Tim getting reprimanded bc he was a little mean and basically Chen being a mommy’s girl even though they work together if that makes sense. Sorry you can completely ignore this if you want
I always forget about “Pictures of You” but I love adding Lucy to Tim x reader stories!! This is a really cute request and I hope you like it!!🤍
Read it here: Mom and Dad are Fighting Again
I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but my request status is always in my pinned post and on my request rules post! And please don’t apologize for requesting, I love it!!🥰
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