#Elliot gets traumatized

[your-local-sentinel-g-1337]

[It’s too late. Mini comic]

-the corruption has consumed guest…-

[liferetainsitssparkle]

carnival episode great

[addictsitter]

Chambers (2019) | episode ten: "the crystal organ"

"we know everything about each other. like, i know you're a little depressed and i know you know i'm a little bit gay."

[wongfayes]

mr robot isnt even that hard to understand yall just stupid lol

(fr like. seeing people still post shit takes 6 years after the last season premiered is wild... like did yall even finish this shit or not? 'oh i dont get it this character was brilliant why they died???' 'oh why did x character do y in episode z?' why this why that bruh fr u gotta get rid of that mindset of wanting to rationally and cleanly explain everything and assuming things always add up to a neat little conclusion with no loose threads or unfinished puzzles and realize that sometimes the open-endedness and multiple possible interpretations fading into the background are there for a damn reason, to make you reflect and think about how all this applies to your life and the real world around you. how things are connected on a level much deeper than most people think in their daily lives. phenomenal, stellar, thought- and emotion-provoking tv, carefully thought out to the finest detail, and all people want to do is force it into some convoluted, safe, clean little box with a ribbon on top and sell it as criticism of the modern capitalist society or whichever interpretation they decided to go with today. but whatever. nothing i say can change your view if you just can't see what's in front of you.)

[brellafaun]

finished beyond

[that-agender-from-pluto]

I think "canon events" are stupid

That has the same logic as "everything happens for a reason"

And I don't like that saying

[holorform2009]

Ŧ๏๏lє๔

You sat in the corner far away from all the men in this lobby as they all called it. Why are you sitting in the corner you may ask? Well, some guy named sheddingskies or something something you forgot what his name is explained the situation you are in as he tries to sugar coat it but you knew what it mean. You're not dumb.

A sweat rolled down on his temple as Shedletsky knows he shouldn't have done that, now you are greatly traumatized. Builderman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he slapped his friend in the shoulder. "Good job shed, now look what you've done.."

Shedletsky glanced at him "it's no use if we don't tell them, they're going to know one day–- night. So It's better to let them know in advance rather than let them see for themselves." He explains as he rubs his temple, head ache begin to surface.

"Still, you could've just let them adjust for a moment before you tell them." Elliot spoke, his eyes glanced to where you sat, seeing how you hug your knees like your life depends on it and he felt so sorry for you. "Poor kid" he mumbled. Shedletsky was about to reply when guest 1337 suddenly spoke, interrupting him. "We have five seconds left, get ready everyone."

"What? Already—"

Your eyes blinked twice, and then thrice. You did not move from your spot.

If there's a killer on a run, might as well hide. It's a good thing you're spawned where they will never see you. You hoped the killer won't find you here, you just sat there playing with the grass beneath you. Your eyes move towards your feet noticing you're not wearing any shoes and you wondered why or where is your shoes at when you got here.

You sighed and leaned on wall as a faint of jazz music suddenly reached your ears, you ignored it but the sound grew louder and louder as if it is getting closer to you. And before you know it a voice called out to you, causing you to jolt in surprised.

"Whatcha doin' out 'ere, little bunny?"

You slowly slowly turn your head at him, eyes wide with surprise. He looked a bit normal... so you guessed he is one of the survivor like you but you need to make sure if he is, so you asked him a question. A simple one.

"Are you a survivor too, mister?"

"Survivor? Why yes, 'course I am..." He smiled at you, you can't see his eyes because it was hidden by his fedora hat. You wondered if he can see you properly with that hat on his way.

"Oh, ok. Can you sit next to me? I don't wanna be alone here..." You muttered. "But it's fine if you don't want to."

" 's okay lil' one, if ya want a companion you could've asked." He chuckled as he moved to sit beside you, honestly his british accent is tickling your brain right now. "Oh. Thanks" you replied nonchalantly.

You don't know why but you have a feeling you should not make friends with this guy.

[miko0528]

forsaken x Reader (after that crazy ahh storm)

Elliot:

⭐️ scared, really, scared

⭐️ wouldn’t really be able to sleep

⭐️ he would worry about his family so much

⭐️ has you close to him at all times

noob:

🌼 cries, a lot

🌼 shaking, grabbing onto ur arm

🌼 would probably take them some hours to calm down, poor baby

chance

🎲 tries to act tough, like they ain’t screaming in the inside

🎲 would kiss you and give you that annoying smug grin so you would get distracted and possibly play fight him

🎲 def would play that random heads or tails game thingy, and whoever got tails has to go outside

🎲 they got tails more.

007n7

🍔 PROTECTIV MUST PROTEC

🍔 he's a traumatized dad what you expect him to do, he would literally give you anything to make you feel better after the storm :p

🍔 he worries about his son

🍔 but at least your by his side

🍔 keeps an eye on the weather, he just wants to keep you safe, your the only one who loves him

guest 1337

🦋 would take this so so so seriously to the point your almost by his side 24/7

🦋 every single sound gets him startled, one single boom and y’all are going insane

(Cause he has war flashbacks ☹️)

🦋 omg PLEASE PLEASE take care of this man he can not put his guard down 💔

two time

🌑 prays, every millisecond, THEY ARE PRAYING TO THE SPAWN TO PROTECT YOU TWO

🌑 would do a fucking ritual to take the storm away

(shadow wizard money gang we love casting spells)

🌑 hugsss, expect hugs from the two time!

🌑 if the storm is gone, this tuah time guy is gonna literally scream out “THE SPAWN DID IT!”

dusekkar

🔮 shadow wizard money gang, we love casting spells.

🔮 MAKES THE TORNADO GO AWAY BOOM KABOOM BYE TORNADO NEVA WANNA SEE YOU AGAIN!

shedletsky

⚔️ would eat and even make out with the chicken if the storm was this bad

⚔️ might make out with you later after the storm- WHO SAID THAT!?

⚔️ oh this guy will be mad if a single hail hits you (I headcanon that he hates hail like so much also there was hail with the storm)

⚔️ is looking at the weather 24/7

😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋

A/n: I got lazy so quickly

[bewitched-hours]

WOAH hey hi hello, i LOVED ur oneshots of telamon + child!reader and manifestation of wrath!reader, and i was wondering if you could make a part 2 of one of those, you could choose what to make a part 2 of, or you chould choose not to make a part 2 at all lol!

Make sure you get enough sleep and water and dont push yourself too hard!! <33

Y'all are too sweet omg-

But I will gladly do a part 2 on the child!reader with Telamon/Shedletsky since I was technically already kinda asking to be requested for that lol-

Like previously, reader's pronouns are She/Her!

You were terrified when you couldn't find Telamon anywhere. You knew how to take care of yourself for a few days but were absolutely sobbing for him to come back.

Did you do something wrong? Were you being too annoying again?

You weren't exactly given straight answers but what made it worse was when you somehow woke up in a completely different place. Surrounded by strangers.

You were mortified to say the least, screaming and crying the whole time as you tried to scream for 'Papa' which eventually got Shedletsky's attention and boy, was he quick to dash into the room and swoop you up.

At first you wanted to push him away in further panic but he quickly wrapped his wings around you in that familiar embrace that made you calm down almost instantly to look at his face and recognize him.

"Papa!" You'd exclaim with excitement, hugging him tight with your shaking figure while the other survivors began to panic and ask Shed a thousand questions.

Since when was he a dad, how old were you, etc etc...

He took some time to explain the story- leaving out the details about him being Telamon- while you were simply preening his wings as you liked to do.

You weren't sure why the others were calling him by a different name but you didn't bother to ask about it. What mattered most to you right now was that you had your papa back.

007n7 actually kinda offered to help out with you, given he was a dad as well and although you were wary of him, being that he was still a stranger, you accepted your papa's explanation of him being a friend and to please trust him.

Shedletsky knew you were a handful, especially with your stubbornness and distrust. But he was glad when you came around to trusting the other survivors.

You weren't sent with them on rounds often, given that you're only a child. However, you still had a role and when you were sent into a round, you usually stuck with the nearest survivor available. That usually happened to be Shedletsky, 007n7, Elliot or Chance.

You were more of a support, meaning you had different uses for each case.

For your papa, you'd raise feathery shield to protect him and rush ahead while the shield recharged again. You always hoped that he could escape in time as well...

For 007, you'd usually only have to heal him even though he insists he's fine. At that point he already became your uncle as you saw it with how he'd try to both protect you and keep you entertained during rounds so you wouldn't have to be traumatized as much.

With Elliot, you had a habit of healing each other and using your shield to protect him from getting targeted. You have no idea how grateful he is when he sees you nearby at the start of a round...

But with Chance, you practically become a second Elliot with how much he asks for heals and your shield. It's annoying but with the way he entertains you(usually with his gun exploding in his face), you allow his antics and even sometimes dare to call him uncle alongside Elliot and 007.

Sometimes the Spectre would be a little cruel and leave you without any of them outside of rounds. You'd just watch the TV to cheer them on and wait for any of them to get back... Like a lost puppy...

You technically had your own cabin but you never bothered going to it. You felt much safer with your papa after all.

And how you always loved to listen to his slow breathing to keep you calm...

Maybe you were a bit clingy-

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Can You Stay?

Olivia Benson x fem!reader

Warnings: sexual assault/rape (not graphic or anything, this takes place after the fact), trauma, hospitals, rape kit, established relationship, hurt/comfort, some explicit language, brief mentions of self-harm

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: You're assaulted by a man the SVU just can't seem to convict. Olivia is used to victims, she's used to the aftermath of a rape. She's not used to walking through it with someone she loves as much as you.

“Let me see her!” Olivia yelled, shoving Fin so hard he slammed into a wall.

“Liv, you can’t be here as a cop,” Elliot argued, holding her back.

Olivia ran her hands through her hair, angry beyond reason and worried out of her mind. “I’m not, Elliot! I’m here because my girlfriend got raped. Now get the fuck out of my way so I can take care of her!”

Elliot lifted his hands in surrender. “Alright, just… you gotta let us do our job, okay?”

Olivia shoved past him and into your apartment, desperate to find you, to see you, to hold you and protect you. When she found you, shaking and huddled in a corner of your bedroom, it shattered her, but she didn’t feel sad, not yet. That would come soon, she knew. What she felt now was blinding, white hot anger at the man who’d done this to you.

You were so traumatized you didn’t even seem to notice her. Your eyes were glazed over, and you rocked back and forth, your head banging lightly into the wall each time. Munch sat on a corner of your bed, and Olivia looked at him, silently asking if you’d said anything yet. John shook his head. So it had just been the 9-1-1 call so far then.

Olivia lowered herself onto the floor next to you, careful not to touch you, to frighten you. Your hair was dripping wet, and the water had blotched your t-shirt. Her stomach sank. It was him again–Cleary–she just knew it.

“Sweetheart,” she started, her voice soft, looking into your blurry eyes. “It’s just me.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but your eyes filled with tears, and you started banging your head against the wall with more force.

Olivia placed her hand between your head and the wall to soften the blows. You wanted to hurt yourself. You wanted to hurt so much that you forgot what had come before. But you couldn’t bear to hurt Olivia. You put your head in your hands instead and when you finally spoke, your voice was small and hoarse.

“I can’t stop shaking.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed, still not touching you. She’d let you initiate touch if you wanted to. “That’s normal. You’re in shock, okay, baby? It’ll pass.”

“He came in my window, Liv,” you stuttered, unable to breathe deeply enough, your fingers tingling with the lack of oxygen. “He came in my window. I thought it was locked. It– it sh– should have– been l–locked.”

You scrunched your eyes shut and shrunk into Olivia, her arms wrapping firmly and protectively around you as you buried your face in her neck and gasped for breath. She rubbed your back, resting her chin on the top of your head.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Just breathe, baby, breathe.”

Elliot entered the room and sat on the bed with John. Olivia met his eyes, and she saw that he hated to do this. They were always aware of the ways in which an investigation might come off as insensitive to the victim. In fact, they did everything they could to be kind and empathetic and caring. But it had never been clearer than it was now that questions and probing, while necessary, would likely only make your horrific night worse. 

You coughed, trying to desperately get enough air, the room swirling around you. You tried, you tried so hard to fight the darkening edges of your consciousness, but you couldn’t breathe. The last thing you remembered before blacking out was grabbing onto Olivia’s jacket.

“Shit,” Olivia muttered, as your body fell limp against her. “El–”

“On it,” he said, pulling out his radio and walking to the living room. “Yeah, we need a bus at Mott and Spring. Unconscious female. Rape victim, panic attack.”

Olivia laid you gently on the ground, brushing your hair out of your face and placing her fingers on your neck to ensure you had a pulse. It was hard to pass out from a panic attack–which showed just how scared you were. She sighed and watched you, holding back tears, as she brushed her thumbs back and forth across your wrist. She wanted to feel your heartbeat. Just to be safe.

“You okay?” John asked her.

Olivia shook her head, biting her lip. “No.” She smiled wryly, her eyes wet. “But I am dangerously close to committing a felony.”

“We’ll get him, Liv,” John assured her.

“We haven’t yet.”

“We will.”

When you jerked awake, gasping, your heart still racing, Olivia squeezed your hands and bent down close to you. “Hey,” she soothed. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m right here. Just keep breathing.”

She lifted your head onto her lap and you curled into yourself, your hand gripping tightly to hers. When the paramedics came, you shrank away from them and into Olivia, who might very well have assaulted an EMT to keep anyone from touching you and further traumatizing you.

“Can you walk?” she asked, and you nodded. “I got her,” she said forcefully to the paramedic who reached out for your arm.

Olivia walked you out of the room, out of your apartment, down the elevator, and into the back of the ambulance. She never once let you go, never once removed her arm from around your shoulder, glaring bullets at anyone who even came close to you.

Rape kits were always hard, no matter who the victim was, but it was excruciatingly hard now that it was you. Olivia almost couldn’t look at you as you talked the doctor at the ER through your assault. She wanted to cry, she wanted to shoot something, she wanted to hold you and never let you go. She would do anything, anything, to go back in time and have you stay at her place instead. Or, even better, to have been at yours so she could have shot the son of a bitch in self-defense. She didn’t know if she’d ever forgive herself for not being there.

You cried when they swabbed you, your body tensing in panic, hand squeezing Olivia’s so hard that little half moons formed on her skin under your nails. Olivia looked at the ceiling, willing herself not to cry. She felt like her heart was being fed through a shredder. It hurt more than anything, hurt so bad she was nearly bent over with it, to watch you cry. To watch your body flinch away from touch and comfort. To watch you poked and prodded and examined under the harsh fluorescent lights, the smell of alcohol sterilizer permeating everything, when you had already been through so much.

When they finally discharged you, Olivia pulled your softest, most oversized t-shirt and sweatpants out of her bag. She’d brought them from your apartment, knowing that they’d take your clothes for evidence. She dressed you gently, carefully, your eyes bloodshot, face streaked and puffy from tears.

She had Elliot drive you both to her apartment in a squad car, knowing you wouldn’t want to see anyone else, that you wouldn't be able to stomach a cab or the subway.

In the apartment, you sat on the edge of her bed, face blank, terrified to go to sleep. You couldn’t say anything, couldn’t speak. It was as if, after telling what had happened, your voice had switched off.

Olivia brushed your hair out of your face, bending down to look into your eyes.

“Do you think you can try to sleep, sweetheart?”

You nodded, exhaustion hitting you hard as the hours of adrenaline started to wear off. You crawled into bed, and Olivia pulled the covers over you. You struggled to keep your eyelids open, and Olivia gently kissed your forehead.

“Go to sleep, baby,” she whispered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise.”

You grabbed her hand as she stood to leave, turning off the light.

“Can you stay?” you whimpered, tears welling up again, no matter how hard you tried to fight them.

Olivia wordlessly lifted the covers and pulled your body into hers, and you breathed easy for the first time in hours. Her arms were strong around you, her heartbeat sure and steady, hands soft as they ran through your hair. And you knew, you knew, that she would keep you safe.

[ikamigami]

I realized I know why Harley strikes me as honest despite that he told us in QnA that he manipulates us with his words.

It's because he believes in things he says. Ofc he's biased but what he told us about Poppy is what he actually believes to be true that she like her father is a backstabber.

And you know we can't call it a manipulation if a person believes in the things they say to us.

Ofc Harley is full of himself and he sees himself above everyone else.

But there's something about him that doesn't allow me to say with 100% certainty that he's a narcissit like many people seems to believe so.

Cause honestly I think that the only person Harley is lying to is he himself.

He didn't even say that he hates Elliot the most even though I bet everyone thought so. And yet.

And he was shocked by Dr White's betrayal. He said that he thought that he saw his vision.

And even if he hates Leith the most he said that he's two-faced and a backstabber.

So do you want to tell me sir that at some point you thought that you could trust any of those two?

Even if you already had trust issues after Elliot backstabbed you?

Idk I'm probably grasping at straws but Sawyer seems like he's looking for any form of connection but because he is the way he is everyone denies him.

He even tried to get us to understand him. But why?

I get it. He was trying to manipulate us.

But there was something in his answers in QnA.

I just can't shake off the feeling that Sawyer seems to act like a kid. As if he just stuck at one point in time and never actually grew up.

And the fact that he's so distanced and almost detached emotionally from his past - childhood especially - I'm pretty sure that he went through something traumatic that he represses and is socially and emotionally stunted.

He still displays sociopathic/psychopatic and narcissitic traits but he seems plenty delusional.

Not only in grandiose way that he has a mission to find immortality and lead humanity into the future.

But also in a way were he still expects that he'll finally find understanding. Despite his paranoia and that Elliot betrayed him and that his coworkers used to laugh at his fears of world ending soon he still thought that someone saw his vision. He still was surprised that someone betrayed him.

Despite that he projects his trauma on everyone around him he still felt that he could trust someone at least about work and then was shocked at the betrayal.

He's biased as hell but he's honest.

And I think that he was still afraid of dying. Is it because he's so obsessed with himself? Maybe. But a part of me thinks that this is something that goes deeper. This fear is a core part of him hence his paranoia about world end.

And I believe it's due to his childhood trauma. Whatever his parents did to him caused him to be like that.

And I believe that Elliot kicking him out of YGP hurt so much also and maybe even mainly because he had to go back home. He wrote that he thought that Elliot cared.

This is something that stood out to me. Cared about what?

Because lines like "I thought he understand" and "nobody understands" are just your really simple lines of someone who will soon become a villain.

But "I thought he cared" it reveals to us that Sawyer liked Elliot. It's a line that comes from the kid that yearns for connection. That yearns for care and love that he never received at home.

I feel really bad for him.

He was betrayed so many times and he hoped for something still...

That's why he works as the main antagonist of horror franchise. Cause he's a tragic character that is so broken that he turned into a monster and he'll torment everyone by projecting his trauma and hurt.

And it's also tragic because he would never change because no one would help him because he's done so many awful shit.

I love him <3

[wlwnovak]

Sweet Bribes

Link for part 1

You and Casey finally get that date you’ve both been dancing around.

word count: 2099

Casey had said yes to coffee.

Not dinner—coffee. But you didn’t mind. You’d suggested it that way on purpose, to keep the pressure low. Still, it felt like the biggest thing you’d done in months.

You usually hated when Cragen handed you paperwork duty, but today, you were grateful.

Your hands were trembling just enough to make your notes illegible, and your mind kept drifting: what you’d wear, what you’d say, how you’d avoid completely blowing it. You were meeting Casey after work — a coffee date — and your anxiety was off the charts. The last thing you needed today was a crime scene or a traumatized witness.

You were mid-eye-roll at your own sloppy handwriting when a voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.

“Hate to interrupt the exhilarating world of forms in triplicate,” Munch said, appearing from thin air, “but I need a favor.”

You glanced up. He stood beside your desk, sipping coffee like he’d just walked off the set of a 1950s detective flick.

“Need you to head over to Novak’s,” he continued. “We need a subpoena for the perp’s computer. She’s working out of her office today.”

You blinked. “Novak’s?”

Munch raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Redhead. Sharp suits. Law degree and weaponized sarcasm. Ring a bell?”

Your face flushed instantly. Your mouth opened, closed, then opened again. You suddenly noticed how clammy your palms were.

“I, uh... sure. Yeah. Of course.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, annoyingly perceptive. “You okay, detective? You look like I just asked you to deliver a severed head.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, already getting to your feet and grabbing the folder. “Just tired.”

“Mm-hmm.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Tell Novak I said hi. And maybe try not to combust on the way there.”

You turned quickly, only to bump straight into Elliot, who was holding a coffee.

“Oh God! I’m so sorry, Elliot — I’ll pay for it, or I can go grab another one right now, just give me a second—”

“Relax,” he said, shaking his hand to brush off the spill. “It was yours anyway. You can drink it, spill it, baptize yourself with it. Your call.”

You blinked. “Wait — you brought me coffee?”

“Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “You got cursed with paperwork. Thought you might need a little pick-me-up.”

“Wow... thanks. Sorry I completely destroyed it, though,” you chuckled awkwardly.

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He looked at you more closely. “But seriously, what’s up with you? You seem... on edge.”

“I was just on my way to Casey’s office for a—”

Before you could finish, Munch swiped the file out of your hand and kept walking. “I got it,” he called over his shoulder.

You sighed. “...Nothing, I guess.”

Elliot studied you, his piercing blue eyes reading far too much. “I see,” he said, smirking. “I was gonna invite you to grab a drink with me, Liv, and Fin after work... but I’m guessing you’ve got plans?”

Your eyes narrowed. “How did you—?”

He laughed. “We’re detectives, Y/N. Remember?”

-----------------------/////////////////////-----------------------------------

The café was small, tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat, the kind of place that smelled like nutmeg and played acoustic covers of 80s songs. She showed up right on time, in a grey trench coat and minimal makeup, with a warm contagious smile.

You sat across from each other, cradling warm mugs. You talked about books, the ridiculous ways lawyers wrote emails, and the worst court lunches either of you had suffered through. It was easy in the way things are when they’re meant to be.

“So, Y/N, how are things going at the precinct? Better? Or do I need to order an extra desk in my office?” Casey asked.

“It’s better… They still treat me like I’m too fragile to handle some of the cases, but… I realized that’s just because they care. They don’t want me to get too traumatized and quit....Oh! and Elliot bought me coffee today!.”

''Stabler?'' Casey raised her eyebrows. ''That's huge, he usually just buys coffee for Liv. How was it?''

''Oh I wouldn't know I... I ran into him and i made him spill it all over the floor''. Casey laughed.

“well that’s good to hear, Y/N. I’ve gotta admit, I was getting scared you’d leave if things didn’t get easier for you here,” Casey admitted.

“I don’t give up easily.”

“I don’t either,” Casey said with a smile.

You kept talking until the place was about to close. You pulled out your wallet, but Casey interrupted you.

“Nu-uh, this one’s on me,” she said, already handing her credit card to the waitress.

“Casey, you don’t have to. We can split if you don’t want me to—”

She cut you off again. “Let me spend money on you for once, okay? I owe you way more for all those cookies you’ve been leaving on my desk.” She laughed.

You sighed, letting her pay, trying to hide the fact that that small gesture had just won her another point on the internal love meter.

You didn’t kiss. You didn’t even touch. Damn.

----------------------------------/////////////////--------------------------

“Coward,” you muttered to yourself as she walked away from you outside the coffee shop.

Since straightforwardness wasn’t your thing, you had to try something else. Because like you told her—you don’t give up easily.

-----------------------------------/////////////////-------------------------

The next morning, you left her a cinnamon roll. Not just any cinnamon roll, your best one. Homemade, thick icing, just like the one she’d ordered yesterday. It sat in a little paper box, neatly labeled: “Homemade. No money spent.”

Casey didn’t say anything that day. Instead, she sent you a photo of an empty napkin and the message:

“This was dangerous. Also, I didn’t know basic baking groceries were $0. Wow.”

You smiled at your phone longer than you meant to.

The day after, you left a cupcake. Red velvet, with cream cheese frosting piped into a swirl.

On the third day, it was a brownie with M&M’s mixed in. The note read: “Recipe by Fin (making friends).”

By the fourth day—mini blueberry muffins—Casey leaned against the doorframe of your office, box in hand, one brow lifted.

“You know, I’m starting to wonder,” she said, half-smiling. “Are you trying to make me gain weight?”

You looked up from your desk, startled, then caught the teasing glint in her eyes. She wasn’t mad. She was curious. Playful. Waiting for an answer.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Shrugged.

“Wh-what?” you said, voice tight with nerves.

“If my pencil skirt feels tight for the next trial, I’m blaming you.”

You looked pale as a ghost, totally unsure how to answer.

Casey tilted her head, examining you more closely. “Seriously though. What’s going on? Not that I’m complaining—I’m definitely not—but this is starting to feel like a very well-camouflaged courtship...unless you're the Hansel & Gretel witch”

You hesitated and nervously laughed. Looked down at your hands. Then, very quietly:

“I don’t know how to do this,” you said finally. “This… showing affection...love... It’s easier to give than to talk. I figured real gifts would be too much. Too obvious. But you love coffee, and sweets go with coffee. And I thought maybe, if I made them myself instead of buying them, you’d… understand.”

The silence stretched just long enough for you to want to disappear.

Then Casey’s expression softened. She stepped further into your office, setting the box down on your desk.

“You could’ve just said you liked me,” she murmured, not unkindly.

“I’m saying it now.”

She nodded, lips curving slightly. “You are.”

You glanced at the box. “And I made muffins.”

Casey chuckled. “So this is a confession and a bribe?”

You smiled, sheepish. “Something like that.”

A beat passed. She looked at you like she was seeing you more clearly than ever.

“Meet me in my office in five, okay?”

-----------------------------//////////////////--------------------------------

Your palms were sweating.

Five minutes. You were supposed to walk into her office like it was no big deal, like you hadn’t just spilled your guts over muffins and baked goods. Like she hadn’t not said she liked you back. Like your heart wasn’t currently beating somewhere in your throat.

You lingered in the hallway an extra thirty seconds, pretending to check your phone, wipe your hands on your jeans, breathe. Then, before you could overthink yourself into oblivion, you knocked softly on her office door and stepped inside.

Casey looked up from her desk. Then stood.

You didn’t even get a full word out before she was crossing the room.

She didn’t say hi, didn’t sit you down, didn’t do anything logical or lawyerly or slow. She just walked right up to you—close enough that you forgot how to stand—and kissed you.

Soft. Certain. No questions, no hesitation.

You froze for a second, shocked. Then melted into it like sugar in hot coffee.

She pulled back just slightly, eyes still half-lidded, searching your face. “Just so there’s no confusion,” she said softly. “I like you too.”

You blinked. “You... do?”

She huffed a laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Y/N. You’ve been feeding me for a week straight like I’m your favorite raccoon. You think I’d let just anyone get away with that?”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, heart thudding against your ribs like it wanted to jump into her hands.

“I was scared I was being too much.”

Casey shook her head. “You’re not too much. You’re just... you. And I’ve never met anyone like you.”

You stared at her, completely unsure what to do with the warmth crawling up your spine. “So… muffins work?”

“They’re effective,” she teased, grinning. “But you can stop now. You already got the girl.”

You bit your lip, still unsure whether to laugh or cry.

“Okay,” you said softly, trying not to look like you were glowing.

“Although,” Casey added, arching a brow as she stepped back, “I wouldn’t say no to the occasional cookie. For… professional morale.”

You snorted. “Noted, ADA Novak. Morale boosters incoming.”

She smiled. “See? We’re already a team.”

You couldn’t help it, you smiled. A real one. The kind that felt too big for your face.

“A team, huh?” you echoed, half-playful, half-awestruck.

“Mm-hmm,” Casey said, casually picking up the muffin box again. “You handle emotional repression with baked goods, I handle sarcasm and legal threats. Balanced partnership.”

You laughed, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to melt. “Wow. We should put that on business cards.”

She gave a mock-serious nod. “Or wedding invites.”

You froze for a second, eyes wide.

Casey blinked. “Too soon?”

You gave a nervous chuckle. “a little.”

“And there you were, thinking you were a lot” she said, stepping closer again. “What about... a label?”

Your breath caught.

“I mean, unless you’re not into that,” she added quickly, the edge of vulnerability peeking out beneath her usual cool. “I just—I like this. I like you. And I’d kind of like to stop pretending I’m not hoping you’ll keep showing up to my office.”

You stared at her for a beat, your heart drumming in your ears.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” you asked, voice a little shaky but warm.

Casey gave a sheepish little smile. “I’m a lawyer. I like things defined.”

You swallowed, then smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. “Then yeah. Define it. I’m yours.”

Casey leaned in again, resting her forehead lightly against yours. “Good. Because I’m definitely yours too.”

There was no dramatic kiss this time. Just the quiet understanding between two people who’d finally stumbled their way into something honest, sweet, and real.

You stayed like that for a moment longer—still close, still smiling—until she pulled back just enough to look at you again.

“Come over tonight,” she said softly. “I’ll cook. You bring whatever dessert you were going to make for tomorrow. We’ll call it even.”

Your heart jumped. “Your place?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Just... something simple. No pressure. Just us.”

You grinned. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Casey said, her voice warm, eyes soft. “Because I’ve already got a bottle of wine and absolutely no self-control when it comes to your baking...or you.”

You walked out of her office with your heart full, big smile, and your hands no longer shaking.

[renthony]

🏳️‍🌈preferably the watchable kind bc energy is so so low nowagays

(Drop a 🏳️‍🌈 in my inbox and I’ll respond with a queer media recommendation!)

Wendell & Wild is a 2022 stop-motion animated Netflix film directed by Henry Selick and written by Henry Selick, Jordan Peele, and Clay McLeod Chapman. It follows main character Kat Elliot (voiced by Lyric Ross), a punk 13-year-old Black girl who can see demons and gets sent to a Catholic girls' boarding school after her parents die in a car accident.

It's a very political movie with lots to say about about systemic marginalization and the prison-industrial complex, but beyond that, it's a damn good story about a traumatized teenage girl coping with grief. And zombies and demons and an undead priest voiced by the ever-amazing James Hong. Also, Key and Peele voice the titular demons, and it's awesome.

Kat allies with another student at the school, a Mexica trans boy named Raúl Cocolotl (voiced by Sam Zelaya). Raúl transitioned before the film begins, but is allowed to remain a student at the girls' school instead of being sent away to an unfamiliar place. We get to see his mother stand up for him and support him unconditionally, and it's wonderful.

If I have any complaint about the movie at all, it's that there's a lot of story crammed into a fairly short runtime. I wish it was, like, half an hour longer. But it's also stop motion animation that was produced during the first waves of covid, so I imagine they had to keep things pretty tight in order to get it made.

Here's the trailer:

[sprite-writes-fanfic]

How the Killers from DBD would react to you slapping their ass.

Hey guys! Welcome to my silly DBD headcanons, this was just for fun, worked with a great buddy of mine @despacitobandito! <3 They helped me and we overall had a great time making this together so I hope you all get a good laugh out of this. Also! Apparently more killers have come out since Unknown’s release that I didn’t write down during the making of this, sorry for missing any new killers! Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 390

CW: Crack headcanons, nothing graphic, some reactions you’d expect from a slasher, contains killers up to Unknown!

Evan MacMillan - Trapper

• Insulted that you would ever touch his fine juicy ass.

Philip Ojomo - Wraith

• “Oh..!” You both are really awkward afterwards. Like just awkwardly staring at each other in silence.

Max Thompson Jr. - Hillbilly

• He’s genuinely startled by you slapping his ass, a little flattered probably.

Sally Smithson - Nurse

• Your hand phases through her and she slashes the shit out of you.

Michael Myers - Shape

• The thousand yard stare before he’d stab you in the face.

Lisa Sherwood - Hag

• *Minecraft skeleton noises.*

Herman Carter - Doctor

• *Farts electricity and electrocutes you.*

Anna - Huntress

• Stops humming. Run. Dude just run.

Bubba Sawyer - Cannibal

• Squeals and cries, you touched his no-no square.

Freddy Krueger - Nightmare

• Turns into literal dust because that’s what he deserves.

Amanda Young - Pig

• Instant bear trap, you don’t even get to find the key, as soon as it’s on, it snaps.

Jeffery Hawk - Clown

• Burp and fart combo.

Rin Yamaoka - Spirit

• You cut your hand since she has a glass shard sticking out of her ass cheek.

Frank, Julie, Susie and Joey - Legion

• They all gang up on you and kick you on the ground, JoJo style.

Adiris - Plague

• She pukes on you, like a baby.

Danny Johnson - Ghostface

• He liked it so much that he hunts you down for you to do it again.

Kazan Yamaoka - Oni

• Feels his masculinity being threatened and he hunts you every game to beat you violently.

Caleb Quinn - Deathslinger

• You traumatized the old man.

Pyramid Head - Executioner

• Execution via guillotine.

Talbot Grimes - Blight

• Immediately tries to vore you but he can’t as he doesn’t have movement in his lower jaw.

Charlotte Deshayes - Twins

• Victor shoots out of her chest and mauls you.

Ji-Woon Hak - Trickster

• Promoted to side hoe and discord kitten that manages his social media; you’re forced to listen to his music on loop on Spotify. There is no escape.

Nemesis

• “S.T.A.R.S.” *blows you up.*

Elliot Spencer - Cenobite

• “I came.”

Carmina Mora - Artist

• Screeches and crows swarm you.

Albert Wesker - Mastermind

• Look of pure disappointment before he hooks you. “Look but don’t touch.”

Tarhos Kovács - Knight

• “Oh good heavens!” *His and him gang mori you.*

Adriana Imai - Skull Merchant

• She cyberstalks you and cancels you on Twitter/X.

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky - Good Guy

• Punted across the whole damn map.

Unknown

• Snap, crackle, pop.

[mehwmidklpe]

hai can i pretty plz request an elliot fic where reader and elliot are casual, and reader doesn’t like physical touch but one day elliot is high and he hugs her when he sees her or smth and then she has a sort of realization moment where she realizes she doesn’t hate it when elliot is affection 😛 idk im bad at writing bruzz but THANK U 🙏🙏

omg I love this!

Physical touch?

You hate it.

It scares you.

It disgusts you.

You hate it.

Everytime Maddy tried to hug you, you stepped back. Everytime someone's parent laid a hand on you you fliched.

The disliking cale frol different sides:

You just don't like being touched.

You're traumatized.

It just makes you feel uncomfortable.

You're not that open.

You don't tend to get close to people.

But then you met Elliot.

He was everythung you were against. Drugs, alcohol, sex, parties, tattoos, drinking.

But you got close to him.

Closer then you'll ever get to a person. You just knew it.

So how did that work? No idea.

Right now, you were walking up the staurs to Elliot's room. You had agreed to meet up at his place today.

But unfortunately, when you walked into the room, the strong smell of drugs and smoke filled your poor nose.

And there he was.

Elliot in all his glory.

Snorting some drugs before smoking a cigarette.

It took him a second to notice you, but when he did, a smile spread across his lips.

"Y/n." He stood up, walking up to you.

"You're high. Like not the usual amount of high for you." You acknowledged.

Normally Elliot could control his drugs use. Way better than Rue. He still had enough sense in him.

But now, the boy was wasted, and it concerned you, it scared you, it frustrated you.

"How much did you take?" You ask him, looking around the room.

Ciggartes were all around, bottles of alcoholic drinks were present, too and some sort of drugs you didn't recognize all over his guitar that laid on the ground.

Music was playing, hinting at how he'd probably had a blast on the process of getting high before you had arrived.

"Elliot, how much did you take??" You repeated, raising your voice, demanding an answer out of him.

He only smiled, staring at you like you were the most beautiful view he had ever laid his eyes on.

"Doesn't matter." He brushed it off, walking up to you.

"I missed you so much."

Too close.

He was too close.

"Elliot–" But before you could protest, his arms were around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Normally you would've pushed whoever did that to you away.

But the thing is.. you didn't want to. This.. this felt nice.

Too nice.

How's that possible?

A slight frown rested on your forehead as your hand automatically, but slowly came up to the back of Elliot's head, settling in his dyed blonde curls, your other hand resting on his back.

And for the first time, you didn't want to let go.

Instead you brought him closer.

This shouldn't feel so good. This is a drug addict your holding onto.

You could feel him hum against your skin. "You smell good." He acknowledged.

That's when he started walking you towards his bed, never letting go of you as he does.

You felt him lay you down, but you spoke again once your back hit the matress.

"Elliot." "Y/n."

He cuddled into you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

'The dyed blonde haired boy's eyes closed in satisfiction, relaxing into your touch. "You're warm.." He smiled, his breath hot on your skin.

The dyed blonde haired boy's eyes closed in satisfiction, relaxing into your touch. You're warm.." He smiled, his breath hot on your skin.

A sigh escaped your lips. "We shouldn't." You tell him. "Why not? It feels nice." The boy pouts. "It's the drugs." You remind him.

"No drugs can make me feel like this."

That was all it took to make you turn around and face him. And this time, for the first time, you cuddled into him.

Cause maybe Elliot was an exception. Maybe when it comes to Elliot, you did like being touched, being affectionate, being cared for, being loved.

All you wanted was for him to become clean so that you knew it was real.

And if it really was, you'd allow yourself to give yourself to him.

give me more Dominic/Elliot requests PLEASE! I'm begging y'all

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Stardew valley bachelors (and krobus and the wizard) witnessing the farmer chug multiple jars of mayonnaise. Just really slinging it back.

Okay ngl I never did this till right now and I got everybody's reactions so this is based on the responses my farmer got after doing this

Spoilers: they've all known my farmer for about 7 years so it's nothing too shocking to them,,,but it's still highly questionable lmao

.....

Shane

"Umm..."

For years, him and Pam were beer addicts...and now comes along you, the new farmer who's a very...different kind of addict.

An addict to mayonnaise, that is.

For years, people have been judging him for his habit, so it seems fair that he should be allowed to judge you 100% for having the weirdest fucking habit in the valley.

He started opening up to you (in his 2 heart event) and you're just sitting next to him, drinking mayonnaise to wash out the beer he offered you.

Only after you two get closer does he decide "well shit, they're weird..but they're also one of the few who care about me,,,"

And he eventually lets go of it altogether.

But he'll still tease you about your mayo addiction from time to time.

"What're you gonna put in the potluck this year? Gold star mayo? Or did you already eat it on the way here?"

"Oh shut up."

"Heh heh."

Sam

"Gross!"

Considering it's one of his hated gifts, this shouldn't come as a surprise to you.

But the way you've absolutely freaked him out by drinking it in front of him (and subsequently making him miss his kickflip) was hilarious.

"That's what you get for skating on other people's property." You shook your head, smirking as you bring out another jar. "You think Jodi needs some for later? Or should I just drink it in front of her, too?"

"NO! Stop. Please don't do that." Sam hisses. "One, she might uninvite you from future family dinners. And two, she'll think it's one of those weird trends and blame me for it!"

"A trend..hm? Doesn't sound like a bad idea. This town could use one more tradition." You laugh, consuming the jar and not missing the look of horror on his face.

"A-And I thought Abigail eating rocks was nuts...you two would be great friends.."

Harvey

"Umm..."

While he's well aware of the many health benefits to mayonnaise, he wonders if you know that they're best as a condiment....not a beverage you can just sling back.

"But you told me to lay off the Joja Colas, doctor," you pointed out to him. "You're telling me those are a healthier alternative to this?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all." He huffs. "It's just..erm..I've never met someone who enjoyed mayonnaise by itself..it sounds-"

"Disgusting?"

"N-No! I didn't mean it like-"

"I'm kidding, Harvey." You laugh a little, amused by his nervousness. "You know any side effects to drinking large quantities of mayo?"

"..none in particular, but that doesn't mean you should-"

"Then if I start feeling anything different, I'll let you know. Thank you." With a wink, you pull out some dinosaur mayo and drink it on your way out of the clinic...with poor Harvey wondering wtf that was.

Regular mayo was fine, but that green icky-looking mayo...had him gravely concerned over what you were doing to your body.

Elliot

"Why?!"

You thought you were being subtle, drinking a little bit of mayo while hanging out at his beachside cabin.

But nope.

You've absolutely horrified this man. Traumatized, even.

It's almost as bad as the time you left a super cucumber on his doorstep, and the next day he sent you a letter demanding to know who made you play this "cruel prank" on him.

In reality, you thought it'd be a nice gift and he'd make something poetic out of a rare sea creature you fished up.

Apparently not and that's when you quickly learned it's a hated one.

"Oh don't be so dramatic," you shake your head. "It's easier to carry than some full course meal."

"But you could have any other food....why that?" Elliot asks, now genuinely curious about what goes on in your mind to think mayo is a suitable choice in food.

You have no explanation though other than "it's most convenient for me and I like the taste".

So he leaves it alone but....maybe it's better not to drink it around him without warning (or drink it when he's buzzed and he may not remember you doing that).

Sebastian

"Umm..."

And here he was, on Ginger Island, hoping to get a brief vacation away from the valley and all its weirdness.

Yet you came along to visit and check on your beach farmhouse--bringing tons of mayo jars with you.

You got thirsty while talking to Seb in the hot sun, and instinctively began chugging the first thing you opened out of your bag.

You don't even realize what you've done until he gives you the strangest look ever.

"Have you always liked drinking mayo...like that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Um..not since moving into the valley and learning how to make it." You shrugged, smiling sheepishly as you brought out another jar. This time a green color.

"What's that one?"

"Oh! Dinosaur mayo. It's a lot thicker and kinda tastes like a kale drink-"

"I'm sorry, there's dinosaurs in the mines?"

Alex

"Umm..."

"What?" You shoot him a defensive look, cradling the half-empty jar like it's your baby. "You've eaten every raw egg I give you, and I never judge."

"But..that's a little different, isn't it?" He chuckles nervously. "Eggs are great for protein! Drinking straight mayo is...erm....are there any benefits..?"

"It's easy to make with all the eggs in my coop, and um..it keeps my energy up so I don't pass out."

It's an awkward explanation, considering you simply drink mayonnaise for the hell of it and didn't think too much about the "health benefits".

But Alex completely agrees with you, not making any further comments on it in the future.

Although how he's eaten dozen of raw eggs without getting some kind of salmonella poisoning is beyond both him and you.

Perhaps you're both a little bit strange, but he eventually came to accept that about himself.

Wizard

"Umm..."

From the moment you met him and obtained forest magic, Rasmodius knew there was something peculiar about you.

From gleefully retrieving ectoplasm and prismatic jelly for his studies to assisting him in getting the dark talisman back from his ex-wife's home, he's come to trust you as a potential apprentice.

So to drink mayonnaise while looking through his catalogue of expensive magical architecture had him....a bit confused.

"What?" You look at the man standing by the bubbling green pot, his eyebrow raised in question. "C'mon, surely this can't be the strangest thing you've seen."

"No, whatever keeps your spirit and energy nourished is fine and all. But..mayonnaise seems most unconventional. That's all I'm saying. Now I must focus.."

And that's all he says about the matter, not really caring too much.

You're grateful he didn't overreact.

Krobus

"........"

"You're not gonna say anything?"

"About what?"

"About..y'know..me drinking mayonnaise?"

"Why would I? You gift me void mayonnaise. I eat it and use it as a moisturizer all the time!"

Finally, somebody who finds your habit relatively normal---but the only downside is that somebody isn't human.

Makes you often question if you're really human yourself.

It never bothers Krobus whenever you need to sling back a jar of mayonnaise and pull out another one when you return from the mutant bug lair or hike through Cindersap Forest to reach the sewers.

He thinks it's just a normal thing humans do, but when you mention how it's very much not normal in your "culture"..he thinks THEY are weird for not accepting your tastes.

Welp, at least he supports your weird yet harmless habit.

You did try void mayo once and nearly keeled over, so you stick to regular/duck/dino mayo from thereon.