#who in their sane mind has a normal photo AS THE ONLY PHOTO in their room

[allmyandroids]

Dutra cake appreciation post 🍑

[honeyed-latte]

Something that is so overlooked in Like Minds (2006) is the irrefutable fact that Nigel was being sexually abused by his mother and, likely, physically abused by his father.

So here's my comprehensive breakdown of that. Let's start at the beginning.

(Apologies for the pisspoor quality, I sniped these off the internet.)

It's stated multiple times throughout the movie that Nigel had "problems at home" and they centered around in-fighting. Not only is that widely known, but even the Headmaster was made aware that Nigels father wanted him out of the house specifically.

Despite Nigels grades being the highest in the country, being a virtually perfectly behaved teenage boy, and his dedication to a hobby that (while unsettling) is incredibly promising as both a career and a special interest- his father still found issue with something and felt the need to pull him from day school into a dormitory setting.

When showing Alex his crawlspace clubhouse, Alex knocks over a crate of bottles and wakes Nigels father. As any totally sane person would, he arms himself and scopes his property for the source of the noise before blaming the neighbors dog and returning to bed.

Nigel is not only able to tell where the guns are kept, but the exact sound of the footsteps approaching the cabinet.

He says "He's got the gun." In this...jovial, lackadaisical way. As if this is normal, expected, as if he's done this a thousand times. He's less the not worried, he's perfectly comfortable with the fact that his father is armed.

The first time we're introduced to Helen and John Colbie is during the Beckett play.

Helen greets Alex warmly, saying that Nigel has told her a lot about him. John reacts stiffly and only grows moreso as the scene plays out. It's clear that he didn't hear anything about this other boy, and finds his wifes involvement grating. His head turning to stare at her, and his sudden silence.

As Alex leaves, Helen expresses her relief that Nigel has a friend and wraps her arm around his lower back, rubbing there hard enough to move Nigels body- this seems to catch Johns eye as well.

Helen leaves the room first, floating above the tense atmosphere between John and Nigel, who seem to glare at eachother over her head. One in discomfort and the other in some smug righteousness.

The entire scene John is uncomfortable. He doesn't know this boy apparently who is Nigels bestfriend, he doesn't like how his wife touches (or jostles) his son, and he stubbornly refuses to leave the room until Nigel does.

I could be overthinking it but as soon as we see the dynamic between the Colbie's it feels painfully clear that there is a long-boiling tension. To me, it seems like Helen and Nigel are close and this upsets John, and since we already know that there was "problems" at home, we could safely assume it's to do with Johns violent tendencies.

Well, that is until the next time we see them.

Alex arrives late one night to the Colbie home at request of Nigel, only to find a car barely pulled into the carpark, it's even still running, and enough yelling to wake the dead.

On inspection, he finds Helen and Nigel the subject of Johns ire. John who once again has a gun and is demanding the explanation for why his son and wife are in bed together.

Not seen in the clip (and easily missed) is the radio from the car playing a sermon, the clergyman is talking of a wife bearing a son.

Despite being fully clothed, atleast as we see above the blankets, it's damning enough. Added to the racey photographs John was given of his wife.

It's evident that John was away, he even confirms that. There was fighting and he believed it would be best if they were all separated for a time. Clearly, he wasn't expecting to find these photos or come home to his son and wife in bed together.

Helen defends herself, at first.

She claims his accusations are disgusting and that she's appalled by the implications being thrown at her.

Even with this reaction, Nigel sits silent and grimacing at her side.

In certain shots you can see Nigel is doing something under the blankets. People think he's rubbing his legs to self-soothe, some people think he was wringing his hands for a similar purpose, others crassly assumed he was touching himself or pulling up his pants. There is no confirmation to any of these theories, as the action is fully out of view and Alex never extrapolates.

Regardless, as he sits in silence and lets his mother weather the storm of accusatory insults, her defense crumbles fast and soon she turns to Nigel.

Begging for explanation on the photos or for him to defend her, we never find out.

We all know how that song and dance goes.

John shoots Helen in a fit of rage when Nigel refuses to speak to either of them. Flinching and shaking beside his mother. Alex shoots John in a struggle for the gun, and we see Nigel slough off the image of a victim. Though not entirely. He looks down his nose at his parents but still shakes and greets Alex with a cracking voice.

This was not fun, this was not funny, this was revenge and fear. Nigel came out on top by luck alone.

Now, his mother dead, Nigel is free to have his Maraclea as Alex has Susan. This is not conditional to the Templar loving the woman, but the woman loving the Templar. This distinction was made by Nigel himself when he urged Alex to take Susan. In love, her only love.

Nigel's abuse, sexual or otherwise, was very obvious in retrospect. They did extremely well in creating this oppressive, frightening atmosphere in the Colbie house without once being fetishistic of the abuse or voyeuristic in it's exploration.

Nigel suffered and was traumatized, Alex never focuses on this and so it's easy to overlook, but when you watch it's as clear as day.

[moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown]

So the idea of being married to Will prior to the start of the show, like imagine when the main team finds out will graham has a wife? Jack Crawford knew obviously, and maybe Alana, but everyone else is just

“He has a wife? He can handle people enough to have a wife?”

And oh god Freddie lounds finding the one and only wedding photo you put on Facebook or Instagram solely for your parents who live out of state to see, like it’s you and will outside the wolf trap house, the doggos all around you guys minus Winston, and yes the good girls and boys have little bows on their collars. And blasts that will graham the ‘crime gimp’ is married like most psychopaths keeps an air of normality to keep word off their true nature.

Like you visit will at school to just listen to him talk and teach cause it’s just so interesting.

He tells Hannibal about you, and your hobbies and how you tried once to show him how to crochet or knit and it ended with him somehow cutting his fingers with the needle or hook.

He has a photo of you and the dogs in his wallet, a new one cause gotta have Winston in the photo.

Def shows Hannibal when he talks about you.

He seems to almost get lost in talking about you, gets that’s far off look he gets when he goes into full empath mode, but it’s softer, more dreamy, more happy then when he’s in his moments of seeing the killer murdering someone.

Hannibal is both curious and a bit jealous that someone other then him is able to break through the walls Will has up.

He def wants to meet you, so he, does, he finds out where you work and just so happens to visit and since Will showed him a photo he just casually, as casually as Hannibal lector can, comes up and just

“You wouldn’t happen to be Mrs. Graham, would you?”

Shock? Yes. Surprise? Yes.

“That’s me. Um are you a colleague of wills?” And Hannibal smells will on you, that aftershave, and your own perfume. And it’s a pleasant mix that he quite enjoys.

Has a plan to kill you in place should he ever need it. Has a full mapped out sketch of what he would make you into. From, the position of your body, to the flowers and spices he would put around you, and what dish he would serve you to Will as.

Yes Hannibal would kill and then feed parts of you to Will.

But like you end up coming to Hannibal on your own for therapy because you need someone who understands your husbands mind to talk to.

Hannibal now is just ‘oh….yeah I want them both’

He sees your softness, rough edges, but he sees why Will would be so drawn to you.

Invites you for dinner alone,

You tell Will, who finds it weird your therapist wants to take you to dinner. But tells you to be safe and to call on the way there and home.

Did I mention you didn’t really tell Will Hannibal is your therapist? Whoops.

Dinner is wonderful and oh yeah Hannibal wants you, and will, like it’s weird he is obsessed as Bedelia says. To Hannibal, he’s never had people more interesting to play with.

Actively tries to make you push Will in ways he knows will work in his benefit.

Will accidentally storms in on a session after a case and…

Well it was a couples therapy session.

When wills in jail, you tend to lean way on Hannibal and yes he uses that to his advantage.

Kisses you in his office after a session.

Will is very, not hurt just

“You throw me in jail, frame me for your crimes…and after all of that, you kiss my wife, I’m impressed at the amount of ego you have.”

You are in wills mind palace, his stream, with you sat on the grass, reading while he fishes, it’s all that keeps him, slightly more sane then if he didn’t have his imagination.

Hannibal stabs you in front of Will after slitting Abigail’s throat, he mostly yanks you up, kisses you, and in that stabs you. Just he aims to fully kill you, like he aimed to keep Will alive, but you he needed to hurt Will with you, so he goes full on but, that love for you, he just he aims to kill but ends up with you still alive.

Will wakes up before you. Then spends like every minute he can by your bed.

Def kisses the scar when you guys go back home.

Becomes a routine.

“We match, though he went for different sides. Forever together”

“Never one without the other”

[soullesssenpai]

Yaz/The Master Theory for The Regen Episode

Okay yall, ever since we got those promo stills from the regeneration special, I've started spiraling with a theory that Yaz might be under the master's control in the regeneration episode. I know we all remember those hair-brained theories after Spyfall came out, with people saying that Yaz was some sort of sleeper agent for the Master, but I'm serious this time - I think something is going on with Yaz in the Master, based on the promo photos: and I'll explain why. So I'm mainly basing my theory off of these four images, as well as a few context clues from the trailer and other stills.

So. Starting off with the master's appearance - we see him in two outfits/styles - the crazy blue eyes with the long hair and the beard, and then this look - super buttoned up, clean shaven, and with short, curly hair. While the long hair look is very typical insane master, this buttoned up look is curious to me, because it almost reminds me of O - very goody two shoes, very clean cut, very non Master-y. To me, this look, and the way the Master is styles makes me think that he's pretending to be somebody else here - possibly O, or my theory: Yaz's boyfriend. We know the Master has the ability to hypnotize, and that Chibnall loves bringing back old school villains - so I think the Master has hypnotized Yaz into thinking that he's her boyfriend, and turned her against the Doctor. So, we have the Master cosplaying as Yaz's boyfriend, or at least somebody sane and normal - but what about Yaz? Yaz isn't stupid, she's met the Master already - she knows he's dangerous, not to trust him, and she herself hates him, especially because of her love for the doctor. So why, in both promo pics, does Yaz look so comfortable being that close to him? In the first picture she doesn't look scared or angry or disgusted, just neutral - like she's listening to what he's saying. The other photo, though, is what gets me - in that clip from the trailer, the master is threatening the Doctor - and where is Yaz? At his side. Every time the doctor fights her enemy, Yaz is standing either at her side or behind her - but here, in this clip, even though we KNOW the doctor is present in this scene, Yaz is standing on the other side of the room, away from her - behind the Master. Between the blocking of the scene and the expression on Yaz's face in the background, it really reads as if, in that moment, Yaz trusts the Master more than she does the Doctor, and that she's standing behind him to distance herself from the Doctor. And lastly - the gun. So we see Yaz holding a gun (in the Tardis no less!) in the trailer - but if you notice in that promo photo of Dan, his space helmet has a bullet in it. Yaz is the only character we see holding a gun, and curiously, she's also the only member of team Tardis who *isn't* show wearing an orange spacesuit in the promo - both Dan and the Doctor have them. Did Yaz shoot Dan on the Master's orders? Was she convinced that he and the doctor are evil? As insane as it sounds, I'm fully convinced that in the regeneration special, the master will have found some way to control Yaz's mind - at least temporarily. We don't se a single shot of Yaz and the Doctor together in the teaser - despite the fact that the sea devils and eve of the Daleks trailers both heavily featured shots of them together. As heartbreaking as it would be, I truly think that most of the drama from this episode will come from Yaz being turned against the Doctor - maybe even the reason she's screaming "Yaz" and seemingly regenerating at the end of the trailer?

[nejibaby]

Small Details

Pairings: Neji x Y/N

Summary: Neji was a man of few words, even more so with you, and when he sees you with Naruto in a compromising position, he has troubles expressing himself.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: And I finally managed to finish this! It took me so long! Today, I offer you a flustered Neji... 👀 I hope y’all enjoy it because I may or may not have melted after writing this 😚

✨Photo taken from this post by @yul-is-sparkling ✨

Naruto was finally back after two years of training with Jiraiya. Being one of his closest friends, you were excited to meet him and to see for yourself how much he’s grown.

Naturally, you challenged him to a duel the first time you saw him again. It was kind of your thing with Naruto — competing with each other on who’s faster, stronger, better in ninjutsu, anything really. Mainly because Sasuke, who he often referred to as his rival, would rarely indulge him with such things, and you did. You were both competitive like that.

In no time, you were both alone on the training grounds. You could already tell how drastic his improvements were within the start of the battle.

You were in awe at how the Legendary Sannins could bring out the best in their apprentices. But despite not being trained by them, that didn’t mean you were lagging behind.

In those two years when Sasuke seeked Orochimaru for power, Naruto trained under Jiraiya, and Sakura learned from Tsunade, you were the only one in Team 7 who remained under the supervision of Kakashi sensei.

Kakashi sensei may not be a Legendary Sannin, but he was a formidable shinobi — one of the best during his generation even. However, truthfully, he infuriated you at first, not because of how late he always was — you were pretty used to it to the point that you don’t question him anymore about his whereabouts and he stopped coming up with excuses as to why he was late — but because there were times when he was too laidback.

Sure, there were moments when he was hands-on: teaching you different jutsus, lecturing you about certain concepts, informing you on what you should always look out for, drilling your body past exhaustion, and the like. But more often than not he would be saying something like, “Find it out yourself” or “I can’t exactly tell you how” as he leisurely sits on a tree branch while reading the stupid Icha Icha books.

You were dumbfounded and furious at first but when your initial annoyance subsided and you had adjusted to his teaching style, you flourished.

That’s why you could take on Naruto even after his training with Jiraiya.

What started as a serious duel between you and Naruto was reduced to playful banter the longer the fight dragged on. At one point, both of you would just tease each other while throwing kicks and punches halfheartedly.

Both of you had your guards down. That was a mistake on your part, because just as Naruto aimed to kick your face and you bent over backwards to dodge it, you slipped. You lost your footing all because of a rock situated near your right foot.

It was a rookie mistake.

Naruto was quick to notice that you were falling so he immediately grabbed ahold of your hand. The problem was he failed to pull you back up. So you ended up falling down with him. And somehow, he ended up with his arms on the sides of your head so he wouldn’t crush you as you were underneath him.

You were both shocked. You were just blinking at each other. It took awhile for the two of you to gather your bearings. When you did, you both immediately laughed out loud. Naruto moved his body so he was lying next to you as you both continued laughing your hearts out.

“What the hell was that, Naruto?!” You feigned exasperation. “You wouldn’t be able to save a fly if you tried.”

“At least I wasn’t the one making rookie mistakes like that,” Naruto shot back. “Plus I tried to help, that’s what matters.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. You could’ve at least focused your chakra on your soles so we didn’t fall!”

“And you could’ve paid attention to your surroundings, Y/N!”

You bickered with each other as you stood up and helped Naruto get up. What the two of you didn’t know was that your boyfriend Neji had watched the whole incident.

Neji wasn’t really the type to get jealous. He’s a very understanding boyfriend. He’s aware that you and Naruto have been best friends even before he met you. He even knew about Naruto’s feelings for Sakura. However, any sane person wouldn’t want to see his significant other beneath someone else, right? Granted, it was an accident, but still… It was such a compromising position to find you in.

He made his appearance as you playfully punched Naruto in the gut.

You instantly noticed him approaching. Your smile widened even more at the sight of your boyfriend. “Neji!” You called, skipping your way towards him. You would’ve tackled him in a hug if Naruto wasn’t around.

He maintained his stoic expression as he greeted, “Y/N. Naruto.”

“Oi Neji, it’s been a while,” Naruto waved.

Neji only gave a curt nod in response.

You asked, “What are you doing here, Neji?” but just as you ended your question, the answer immediately clicked on your mind. “Oh my god, I’m sorry I forgot!”

Over your excitement of Naruto’s arrival, you forgot that it was a Tuesday. Tuesdays were your lunch dates and sparring sessions with Neji.

“It’s okay.”

“Hold on.” you told him and then faced Naruto. “Gotta go, Naruto! Bye!” you said as you grabbed Neji’s hand out of habit.

Neji flushed, not exactly expecting your action, but you didn’t notice because it was something that you’re used to doing, although not in the presence of someone else.

“See you later!” Naruto waved.

When Naruto was out of sight, you dropped Neji’s hand unconsciously. “Sorry, I forgot about lunch. What time is it? Have you eaten?” You asked Neji.

He quickly responded and told you he hasn’t eaten anything yet.

“Well then, let’s go. I’m starving.”

Neji and you walked side by side out of the training grounds.

“So…” you started saying.

Neji stared at you. “Hm?”

“How was your day, baby?”

He cleared his throat and looked away almost instantly. Very rarely would one find Neji flustered, but calling him “baby” always worked. He wasn’t quite used to the endearment and every time you addressed him as such with tenderness laced in your voice, he would blush. You use it all the time just to see his cheeks tinted pink. It was a cute sight.

“What’s wrong?” You playfully asked while trying to get into his line of vision.

He refused to meet your gaze until he regained his composure. When he did, he told you — in an impassive manner — what he had done in the morning before he went out looking for you.

Despite his expressionless face and his rather hushed tone, you listened intently to the words he was saying, the smile on your lips never leaving your face. Neji was a man of few words even until now that you were together so you made sure you paid attention every time he spoke, not wanting his words to go to waste.

He wouldn’t admit it to you but he loved that about you. You would remember even the little details of his stories, which in itself was a big deal considering you tend to forget a lot of things. You treasured his words, sentences, thoughts, ideas and plans, and kept them enclosed in your memory.

Neji loved that you focused on him. You made him feel like he was important and worthy, and that he mattered, in a completely different way than the others’ view of him.

The others only saw him as important because he was an asset both to the Hyuga clan and to Konoha. He only mattered to them because he has the strength and ability to protect them.

But you didn’t see him that way. You saw him as his own person — a man with a brilliant mind, a great moral compass, and a heart of gold. This was further confirmed when you told him that if his circumstances were different — if he was not a Hyuga or even a shinobi — you’d still fall in love with him as long as his character remained the same.

He knew you love him, there was no doubt about that. It was known; it was an irrefutable truth, an indisputable fact. But why did seeing you with Naruto trigger his insecurities that you had previously put to rest?

His mind was reeling, but he tried his hardest to be in the moment with you.

The thing was, he might have misread you a little. Because the attention that you gave him wasn’t solely focused on his words. In actuality, it extended to his actions and mannerisms as well.

This was how you knew that there was something that was bothering Neji today.

Unwelcome thoughts swarmed his mind, leading him to absentmindedly reach out to you. He was walking beside you closer than usual, with his hand on your lower back. While there was no doubt that he was listening to you when it was your turn to tell him about your day with Naruto, he had a faraway, vacant look on his face.

You may have missed the presence of a rock a while ago, but you certainly wouldn’t miss these small details about Neji.

These might come across as something normal for other people, but for someone like you who dedicated a lot of time admiring and memorizing every little detail of the certain Hyuga boy, it was easy to tell that something was on his mind from the way he was taking up a portion of your personal space. Almost as if his own restrictions were non-existent.

Normally, it would’ve been easier to confront him about it, but you were a shinobi, and if there’s something you learned from Kakashi sensei, it was that you have to gather more intel before actually making a move.

But you could only think of one way to confirm if there was something bothering your partner, and it was through his hair.

On regular days, Neji wouldn’t allow anyone to touch his hair, including you. But when there was something that was bothering him, or if he had a particularly rough day, he wouldn’t mind it if you threaded your fingers through his hair. In fact, he wouldn’t admit it, but he preferred it if you did that. It was something that calmed him down.

So while you continued telling him how your day went, you subtly angled your body towards him. Then you tentatively reached for the tips of his hair with your hand that was closest to him. You managed to grab a few strands of his hair between your thumb and index finger. You twisted them between your fingers.

You looked up to him to check if he was bothered by it, but it seemed like he didn’t mind at all. This certainly meant that his mind was elsewhere, despite the fact that he was nodding in the right parts of your speech and even correcting you when you used the wrong word to describe something.

You retracted your hand after coming up with your conclusion. You even stopped talking as you were thinking of what could’ve happened for him to be this distracted. Neji didn’t even notice you stopped talking mid sentence.

Somehow this just felt different from the times he was frustrated or anxious before, and quite frankly, you were worried.

By the time you had both placed orders and seated in a random restaurant, you decided to confront your partner. “So, Neji, baby, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

He choked on nothing after hearing your question. Was he really that easy to read? Or was it easy just because it was you reading him?

He cleared his throat and feigned ignorance, “What are y-you talking about?”

You opted to give him a pointed look instead of a verbal response.

He didn’t stare back, looking anywhere but you. Most times, Neji would face you head on until you conceded; with you, he was comfortable being stubborn and unyielding because it came without repercussions. But today, he wasn’t up for the challenge. And if you looked more closely, he was once again sporting a faint color on his cheeks.

You waited a moment for him to answer, or at least to look back, but it was to no avail. With a sigh, you said, with the softest tone you could muster partnered with a reassuring smile, “Would you let me know when you’re ready, at least?”

Surprisingly, Neji looked at you then. “It’s nothing… It’s just… something silly.”

You gently grabbed a hold of his hand. “Don’t tell me it’s silly, I know it isn’t if it bothers you, baby. You don’t have to tell me now if you aren’t comfortable yet, hmm? Just know I’ll be here to listen to you.” You gave him a genuine smile and a small squeeze to his hand before letting go.

Neji’s eyes hadn’t strayed from then onwards. He had to admit sometimes he would forget how incredibly kindhearted you were, even more so when it came to him. You always made sure he was comfortable. You never forced him into doing or saying things that he wasn’t ready to do or say. You allowed him to make his own decisions and respected them, something that rarely came from being a subordinate of Konoha and a member of the branch family of the Hyuga clan.

Life as a shinobi was sometimes constricting, but you were his breather from all that.

It was your turn to be bashful from his stare. You could feel your face warming up from the unexpected, scrutinizing gaze. “Neji, stop it.”

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Stop being beautiful, then.”

The words that came out of Neji’s lips startled you. It wasn’t everyday he would actually use words to tell you you’re beautiful. The way he expressed his appreciation to your beauty would come in the form of fluttering kisses or gentle brushes on your body parts — coincidentally, or not, on parts where you feel the most insecure about.

Fortunately for you, the food came at the right moment, since you weren’t exactly sure how to respond to his unexpected compliment. You both ate in silence then, occasionally peeking at each other  — almost like how it was when you first started dating each other.

When you were done with lunch, you expected to take the route towards the training grounds like you both usually did, but Neji’s hand has taken solace on your back once again and this time with intent to guide you to a different direction.

You were confused but you followed anyway. “Where are we going?”

“To my place.” A pause. “Is that fine with you?”

“Sure” was all you could say. Admittedly, you were quite tired from the duel you had with Naruto earlier and you didn’t really have enough energy to spar with Neji, considering he never went easy on you.

By the time you had entered his place, he graciously offered his couch to you, as if sensing your exhaustion. You immediately plopped down on his couch after setting aside your footwear by his front door.

“Tired?”

“Very,” you mumbled.

He handed you a glass of water, knowing you weren’t quite fond of tea. He sat down beside you just as you thanked him and sipped on your drink.

Setting aside the glass, you leaned back on the couch, only to be welcomed by Neji’s arms. A small smile automatically crept into your lips from the gesture. You snuggled into him as a reflex.

It was moments like this with Neji that you treasured most. While you enjoyed tagging around with him and the rest of Team Guy on missions, you preferred spending time with him peacefully like this, without the imminent threat of danger looming over your heads. It was rather a rare occurrence, after all, for two shinobis like you both were.

Neji was first to break the comfortable silence. “I saw you with Naruto a while ago.”

“You did? When?” You excitedly asked while trying to pull away from his embrace to look directly to his face. But for some reason, he kept you in place, your cheek pressed to his neck. “Did you see me kick his ass? Like literally.”

“Yes,” he answered flatly. It was a response that sounded so… dry. Usually when you both talked about Naruto, there would be a fondness from his tone. “But… I also saw something else…” he trailed off.

You raked your mind, trying to remember what had happened earlier. Then the memory of falling down flashed on your mind, and suddenly you felt embarrassed for Neji having to witness such a mistake. “Oh no!” You jumped out of his grasp, startling him in the process. “You saw me fall down! That’s so embarrassing!” You covered your face with your palms.

“Well, yes… but—”

You snapped your head at the tone he used. He didn’t sound like he was going to tease you for your mistake, in fact, it kind of sounded like he was worried.

“I’m fine though, if you’re worried,” you offered, assuming he thought you got hurt from the fall.

“I’m glad you are not hurt,” he said. Not long after you noticed him visibly gulping.

You could tell there was something else in his mind, and whatever it was, you had a feeling it might’ve been the thing that was bothering him a while ago. You tried to come up with guesses as to what it could’ve been. As you recalled how the conversation started and considered how he was acting, a plausible answer popped into your mind.

“Are you perhaps… jealous?” You hesitantly asked. He was the first one to initiate this conversation so you were assuming he was ready to talk about it. Despite that though, you didn’t want to force him to talk so you carefully and reluctantly asked him. He was always allowed to drop the topic if he wasn’t comfortable and he knew that.

Neji cleared his throat as soon as the words left your mouth all the while avoiding to meet your eyes once again. “Maybe,” he almost inaudibly said.

You were surprised by his answer. It wasn’t always that Neji got jealous. The only time he was was when a stranger was blatantly hitting on you in front of him while you were on a mission together.

“It did not sit right with me seeing you in an… inappropriate position with someone else.” He explained. The tone he used sounded like the one he used with the Hokage when he was taking responsibility for something that went horribly wrong on a mission.

“Don’t make it sound like it’s wrong,” you said softly as you cupped his face. “You don’t have to feel guilty about feeling jealous. Your feelings are valid.”

The gentleness and warmth in your voice made his heart flutter. If this was a conversation with someone else, he was sure he was going to get teased for feeling this way, but it was with you, and you had always been different.

“I love you, Neji,” you said before you kissed his lips.

It was amazing how the three words you used that preceded his name could easily wipe out the jealousy that had brewed inside him. This was another testament of how well you knew Neji — not only did you know the small details about him, but you also know the right words to ease his worries.

[angelicyoongie]

the crimson shell (llll)

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader — genre: mermaid au, yandere au — w.c: 4.6k — warnings: explicit sexual content! heavy dub-con touching/intercourse, forced breeding, oviposition, mentions of death/violence, general yandere themes — notes: ah, here we finally are, the last part/finale to the story! please keep the warnings in mind, and don’t read this chapter if you’re uncomfortable with anything stated above!

Part I / II / III / IIII

You’re not sure how long you’ve been here. After the second week of just blankly staring at the never changing cave walls surrounding you, you figured there was no point in keeping track of it. What good does it do you anyway? It’s not like counting the days will miraculously get you out of here. While you might not know the number, you do know that it’s been far too many. Your skin has grown pale and gaunt from the lack of sunshine and warmth you’re so used to, and the diet of raw fish hasn’t exactly been very kind to you. The cave is tall enough for you to stand up in comfortably, so at least your circulation isn’t completely shot, but you honestly lack the energy to stay on your feet for too long. Escaping, even just back up to the island, is your only chance at survival. You don’t think you’re going to last very long down here. It’s already gotten to the point where you’ve begun looking forward to Jungkook’s short daily visits, even just the sight of something almost human enough to keep you sane.

You let out a heavy sigh, the noise echoing around the cave as you lean back against the stone wall. Over the last couple of days, the creature has begun to bring you little treasures alongside with your food. You’re not exactly sure why, but it’s nice to have something to do – even if it’s just tracing the patterns on the lockets and pendants over and over. You run your fingers over the small pile of golden jewelry by your side, trying your best to keep your thoughts away from the people it must have belonged to. Jimin might have managed to get away, but you doubt the rest of them did. Two of the pendants in your pile belonged to the crew Jimin brought with him, and you suspect that if you give Jungkook a few more days, he’ll bring you the remaining three. As if you summoned him with your straying thoughts, a small splash in the water alerts you of the creature’s arrival. You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook hoisting himself up on the ledge, another fish and a new pendant dropped at your feet. You silently scoot closer to the edge, offering up your hand to the creature’s expectant red eyes. Jungkook nuzzles into your hand with a happy thrill, rubbing his cheek along your palm. You suppress a shudder at the sound, ignoring the soft skin underneath your fingertips as you stare at the headless fish at your feet. Sometimes you wish you could share the same fate as your food.

You let Jungkook cuddle your hand for as long as he wants, knowing that denying him will only make things worse for yourself. If you look past the sharp claws and teeth, Jungkook is hardly anything more than an oversized puppy. He seems to crave constant affection and confirmation that he’s done good when he brings you food or treasures. You think you might would have found it sweet if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s keeping you trapped here – and that he’s a monster. There’s nothing sweet or innocent about the creature in front of you. You let out a small breath of relief as Jungkook drops your hand, but he doesn’t immediately sink back down in the water as he normally does. You watch in confusion as he pushes the fish closer, the gold chain around it rattling as it drags against the stone. You hesitantly pick it up, praying that Jungkook isn’t going to stay here and watch you eat it. The raw fish already makes you nauseous, and there’s no way you’ll be able to stomach eating it with an audience. Especially one that likes to punish you when you do something he doesn’t like. Call you crazy, but you don’t think gagging at the food he brings you will make him very happy.

You slowly unwrap the chain, putting the fish back down to turn over the locket in your hands. You suck in a harsh breath at the familiar design at the front, the intricate carved flowers making bile rise in your throat. You had this made for Jimin years ago, back when you were still best friends.  You two stayed friendly even after you started drifting apart, but you figured he would’ve gotten rid of the locket by now. You can’t believe he kept it all this time. That he still wore it. Your hands shake as you gently pull on the clasp on the side, a strained sound leaving your lips as you flip it open. A picture of you and Jimin smiles back at you, your faces bright and carefree. Jimin has an arm slung around your shoulders, his eyes closed into little crescent moons from how hard he’s grinning at the camera. The pure happiness in the photo makes your heart clench. Despite knowing Jimin was the one who lead you here, you find yourself desperately missing him for a split second before you can catch yourself. God, maybe if you accepted that marriage proposal from the baker’s sleazy son last year you would’ve at least been safe. Home.

You’re yanked out of your thoughts as Jungkook tugs you closer to the ledge, a clawed hand quickly snatching the locket out of your grasp. He lets out a series of chirping noises as his red eyes drag from the locket to you, and Jungkook taps your smiling face in the photo before he does the same to your leg. You stare in bewilderment as the creature drops the locket back in your hands, his lips stretched into a nightmarish version of a smile before he lowers himself down in the water. You swear your heart stops the moment you see the rows of teeth lining his mouth, and it refuses to work again until Jungkook is fully submerged and swimming away. You hastily scoot back from the edge, the locket clutched tightly in your hand. A bitter smile graces your lips as it dawns on you that you’ve figured out how Jimin traded your life for his. The picture. While you can’t be sure of exactly how he managed to communicate with Jungkook, you’re sure that being stranded here for six months must’ve been more than enough time to figure out a way to converse without using actual words. With Jimin as living proof in front of him, the creature must’ve understood that it meant that you were real too. And that if he had managed to get Jimin, then there would be a way to get to you. It was probably easier for Jimin to trade your life for his when he had something tangible to show Jungkook, when he had proof in his hands that you were out there too. A part of you hopes that maybe Jimin tried to convince Jungkook to change his mind, to take someone else instead, but you have a feeling that even if he did, the creature wouldn’t have budged. From the time you’ve spent on the island it has become very clear that Jungkook is stubborn and used to getting what he wants – but you suppose that’s only natural for a creature like him. How can something tell you no when it has already been eaten?

Of course, Jimin had no way to be sure that you would set sail for Jungkook’s island. But, while there was no guarantee you would risk travelling that far, your old friend knew how desperate you were for money, and the lengths you were willing to go to keep your family afloat. You suppose he knew how easy it would be to trick you as long as there was a bit of gold involved, and Jimin was dripping in it when he came back. You just hope he at least had the decency to spare your family a gold ring or two after you left, considering he sacrificed you to go free. You toss the locket aside, not really caring where it ends up as long as it’s far away from you. You force yourself to take a few deep breaths, trying your best to quell the anger burning through your veins. Being mad at Jimin won’t do you any good while you’re stuck down here, so you allow yourself to whisper out a string of curses at the man before you lock away the heavy feeling of betrayal deep into your chest. Seeing Jimin’s smiling face has reignited your dwindling spirit, and you decide that you will get out of here, even if it is just to hunt Jimin down.

The next time Jungkook comes back to visit you, there are no more treasures. Instead, your eyes widen in surprise as the creature gently places a familiar shell and pearl down by your feet, next to your twitching meal. You’re certain you left them near your bonfire higher up on the beach, but judging by the scratches and roughed up skin on Jungkook’s arms, it seems like the creature probably dragged himself all the way up there to get them. You feel your throat run dry at the thought, at the fact that you weren’t even as safe on land as you had first believed. If Jungkook was willing to bring himself up on land to get them, then you’re sure they must mean something important. It can’t be a coincidence that both the shell and the pearl have the same deep red colour as Jungkook’s tail and eyes, and come to think of it, didn’t your luck begin to turn after you picked up it that evening before you left?

Jungkook lets out a chirp as you pick up the shell, the creature leaning forward to rub his head against the back of your occupied hand. You eye him warily as your mind races through what has happened ever since you left home. You really, truly, hope that you’re wrong, but based on how everything started after you picked up the shell and how the creature acts – how he provides for you, how offended he acts when you push him away and how affectionate he is, you fear you might have accidentally accepted a courting offer. You’ve seen similar patterns in animals before, and while you’re not entirely sure what Jungkook really is, you think it’s safe to assume that the same thing might apply for him too. What you can’t really wrap your mind around is why he waited so long. It took weeks before you left after Jimin returned, and you were down by the beach every night. The unexplainable fear you felt was probably something deep inside of you that recognized that you were being watched by a predator – by him – but you didn’t know enough to connect the dots. Jungkook had many chances to grab you, but he didn’t. Not until you accepted his shell. Convenience maybe? That this whole trade was easier if he made you come to him? Or maybe some weird kind of custom his kind has? He is half human, after all. But you can’t be sure. If anything, Jimin could’ve at least had the decency to teach you how to converse with him if he was going to throw you to the sharks, or rather, Jungkook. Either way, you’re sure Jungkook would’ve eventually found a way to get to you even if you didn’t leave on that boat.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the feeling of soft skin leaves the back of your hand. The clicks falling from Jungkook’s lips are uncharacteristically soft as he pulls himself up on the ledge, those deep red eyes trained on yours as he tugs you closer. It only takes one hard yank before you find yourself caged in underneath Jungkook’s arms again, legs on either side of his waist. Your pulse quickens as you’re reminded of what happened the last time – you’re not exactly eager to pass out again from being smothered by his weight.  

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised that Jungkook manages to carry his entire weight on one arm, while the other begins to roam across your body. After all, he did drag himself up on land and back, and the part you had on top of you last time was hardly anything. The weight of his entire tail must be extremely heavy out of water. You know the creature doesn’t like it when you don’t pay him attention, so you let your eyes rest on his collarbones, watching as a few drops of water run down his skin. Keeping eye contact is too intimidating, those deep red irises makes it feel like you’re staring right into the depths of hell.

You dig your fingers into your thighs as Jungkook’s hand dips under the torn fabric of your shirt, the unusual texture of the web between his fingers making you squirm uncomfortably as it drags over your skin. You’re very aware of the sharp claws hovering above your delicate stomach as he explores, but at least the creature knows to not let them touch. Jungkook’s hand trails over your sides, your stomach, all the way up to the underside of your breasts. You swallow thickly as a knuckle brushes against the soft flesh, Jungkook’s motion suddenly stilling at the contact. You’ve always managed to push him off before he’s gone any further, but you can feel the shift in the creature’s mood today. You know he’s not going to take no for an answer. But, that still didn’t prepare you for the sudden gush of wind brushing across your exposed chest, your shirt split clean in two with the help of Jungkook’s claws. Before you can scramble to cover up, Jungkook lets out an excited chirp, his hand quickly moving back to your chest. Your mind goes blank as he places his palm over one of your breasts, experimentally squeezing and massaging it as he watches you curiously. You grit your teeth as Jungkook plays with it, ignoring the little tingle of heat in your stomach whenever he does something your traitorous body likes.  

You try to convince yourself that Jungkook is probably just excited to see parts of a human body he hasn’t seen before, that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Your breath hitches as the webbed texture between Jungkook’s fingers glide over your nipples, a soft moan falling from your lips before you can stop yourself. The noise only seems to spur him on more, Jungkook repeating the motion to hear the sound again. A harsh squeeze on your breast forces out another moan, your hands flying to Jungkook’s chest. Your fingers twitch against his skin, your head telling you to push him away, while the building heat in your stomach and the growing wetness between your legs wants him close to finish what he’s started. You settle for digging your hands into his skin, grounding yourself in his body, knowing that pushing him away won’t do you any good. Jungkook lets out a happy thrill at your touch, lowering himself closer to your body as his hand moves from one breast to the other. You can feel his eyes burning into your skin, your body growing warmer and warmer under his intense gaze. There’s too many sensations at once – cold water dripping against your overheating skin, Jungkook’s long hair tickling your face, the soft and rough skin of his hand squeezing and moving across your flesh. Your eyes glide shut before you can stop yourself, forgetting your own rule of never letting Jungkook out of your sight. It’s just .. too much. Your body doesn’t know whether to hate the attention or love it, your chest tight with disgust while your stomach swirls with pleasure. At least with your eyes shut, and as long as your hands stay on his chest, he feels human. Human enough to make this whole thing a little less horrible.

Your legs tense as you feel more of Jungkook’s weight against your body, his hips pressing down more firmly against yours. You don’t pay it too much attention at first, too occupied by the hand on your chest. At least, that’s until you feel his hips begin to slowly move back and fourth, grinding against your clothed core. Your eyes fly open at the sudden friction, head spinning as your walls clench with need. You’re sure the flimsy material of your trousers must be soaked by now, and the realization that this creature is the reason behind it makes your cheeks flush red with mortification. You stifle a gasp as Jungkook pinches your sensitive nipple between two fingers, another happy thrill filling the cave as he rolls his hips harder against your mound. You can feel the heat in your lower stomach building rapidly, the coil almost ready to snap when Jungkook suddenly stills. You push down the needy whine in your throat as Jungkook removes his hand from your body, the creature pulling himself up further on the ledge.

Your confusion dies as your eyes travel down a little further past his hips, the arousal you felt quickly washed away by terror as you notice a slit in his tail, and something extending out of it. You nearly choke on your own spit as it finally clicks, trying your best to scramble out from beneath Jungkook’s hold as his cock becomes fully unsheathed. Jungkook lets out a series of low, warning clicks at your struggle, his clawed fingers digging into your shoulders as his arms keeps you caged you in. You look down in horror as you feel him resume his grinding against your clothed sex. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. His cock is slightly tapered at the tip, growing thicker down against the base. What you thought was just some misplaced curiosity is obviously more than that, because now, there’s no doubt in your mind that Jungkook’s plan is to fuck you. You ignore the pain as sharp claws dig into your skin, trying your best to twist out of his hold. Logically you know there’s no place for you to run to down here, and that was probably what he wanted all along. Still, your heart hammers painfully against your chest, urging you to at least try.

You don’t succeed in doing much more than twisting yourself over on your stomach, fingers clawing at the stone in an attempt to pull yourself away. You barely have time to process the hiss leaving Jungkook’s throat before the remaining fabric of your trousers are sliced clean in two, leaving you completely bare. The next roll of his hips sends his cock rubbing over your ass, your body trembling at the wetness that seems to be coating it. The scales on his hips are rough and sharp as they drag over your soft skin, and you don’t doubt they'll feel like tiny little razors if you move against them wrong. You’re still trying to drag yourself away when Jungkook’s arms comes under your body, one wrapping underneath your arm to hold the opposite shoulder, and the other curling around your stomach. The creature lets out another hiss at your squirming, pulling your flush against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, the steady rhythm such a contrast to the wild beat of your own as he once again moves against your body. The new position sends his cock gliding between your legs, the shaft rubbing along your folds and coating it with the same slick fluid you felt on your skin. You dig your fingers into the stone floor, but your body is locked up tight against Jungkook. There’s nowhere for you to go.

Jungkook lets out another warning noise before he rolls his hips forward again, the tapered tip of his cock catching on your entrance. You let out a strangled moan as Jungkook’s cock sinks into your heat, your walls stretching around him as he pushes in deeper. Your arousal from earlier combined with the wetness around the creature’s cock makes the slide painless aside from the uncomfortable burn of being filled too much, too fast. Jungkook’s excited thrill at finally being buried inside your heat rings in your ear from the close proximity, his tongue dipping out to flick across the sheen of sweat at your nape. The creature begins pulling his hips back, not giving you any time to adjust before he snaps them forward. You let out a choked moan as he fills you up again, vision growing hazy as he sets a brutal pace from the get go. You can feel the harsh slap of his hips against your ass with every thrust, Jungkook letting out a pleased hiss as he continues to slam into you. You can feel the tapered length twitching and pulsing inside of you as he moves, more wetness seeping out of his cock to mix with your own. Every thrust leaves you gasping for breath, and the hold Jungkook has around your body feels like you’re wrapped up in steel. You have no choice but to lay there and take it, but as the creature’s cock nudges over your sweet spot repeatedly, you realize to your own horror that you like it.

Lost in a daze of arousal and fear, you don’t even realize the creature has been moving the both of you backwards until you’re suddenly plunged into the cold water. You let out a startled gasp as Jungkook’s length disappears from your heat, and you thread the water forcefully to keep your head above the ripples as you try to figure out where the creature went. You feel his hands before you see him, claws wrapping around your waist as Jungkook pushes you against the ledge. You let out a pained groan as your back collides with the stone, your hands scrambling up to grip the edge of it. You freeze as Jungkook’s head slowly emerges from the water, those deep red eyes looking hungrier and wilder than you’ve ever seen before. It only takes a moment before you feel the creature’s chest pressed against yours, his cock slipping in even easier with the new position. It doesn’t take many thrusts before you’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself afloat, your arms shaking with the effort of keeping your head over water. Your fingers slip a little against the wet stone, your eyes widening as you seem to sink even further down on Jungkook’s cock. You’ve never been so full before, almost delirious as he picks up his pace. Jungkook’s hands are relentless as they glide over your skin, pinching and rubbing every part of your body.

“F-fuck,” You moan as your clit rubs against his tail, the roughness of the scales making a bolt of arousal shoot through your body. You don’t even realize your hips are moving against his as the tightness in your gut grows, the pressure building more and more until it suddenly unravels, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you see stars as you come on Jungkook’s cock. The creature lets out something close to a growl as your walls clamp down around him, and he fucks you straight through your orgasm and into oversensitivity with an animalistic pace. You whine as Jungkook’s cock begin to swell, grow, his hands stilling on your hips to pull you flush against him as he comes. He lets out a pleased chirp as the burning hot come floods your insides, a broken moan escaping your lips as Jungkook slows down the harsh pace. It’s done, you think, relieved. He’ll probably leave you alone now. So it confuses you when Jungkook’s eyes slide shut, soft clicks leaving his lips as he pushes you even harder against the stone behind you. He’s still working his hips in and out of your heat, and you realize that even though he just came, his cock is still hard and growing, still stretching your walls.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel something moving up Jungkook’s cock, a firm but soft sphere spurting from the tip and into you. It takes a second for your hazy mind to connect the dots, and you realize a little too late that the creature is laying eggs. Inside of you. Jungkook is breeding you. You desperately try to push against his chest as you feel the second egg travel up his cock, but Jungkook only tugs you closer, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as his chest rumbles. You stifle back a moan as the second egg joins the first, the foreign texture brushing along your sensitive walls. The creature purrs as he released another spurt of eggs, slowly grinding his cock back and fourth as he breeds you. You cling on to the ledge behind you, disgust and pleasure wracking through your body as another egg joins the rest. A deeper click, something almost close to a groan, falls from Jungkook’s lips as he forces the last egg into your tight heat. Your eyes nearly roll back as you feel his cock nudge against your cervix; Jungkook’s slow pace fucking the eggs around inside of you. If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to being stuffed to the brim with Jungkook’s thick cock, eggs and come.

You can feel Jungkook’s breath ghost across your exposed wet skin, the harsh puffs of air sending chills down your back. Your hands finally slip from the ledge, too exhausted to keep you up anymore. Before you can wrap your shaking arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, the creature suddenly detangles you from his body, quickly hoisting you back up on the ledge. You let out shaky moan Jungkook’s cock once again slips from your heat, your body feeling surprisingly empty despite the eggs still resting inside of you.

“Shit,” You hiss as you strain to push yourself up on your elbows, gliding a hand down to your stomach. You can feel them inside of you when you press down, little bumps gliding around under your fingertips. Panic builds under your skin – you have to get them out. There has to be a reason you’ve never heard of creatures like Jungkook before. You doubt you're compatible to carry his eggs, and you don’t even know what will happen once they begin to grow. And even if you were, it’s not like you want them. Just as your hand is about to slip down to your slick folds, Jungkook hoists himself up from the water, once again covering your body. He snatches your hand away with a series of threatening clicks, barring his sharp teeth as he lies down on top of you. You twist your head with a fearful whimper as Jungkook pushes your hand into his hair instead, the weight of his body not totally crushing, but still enough to make you feel lightheaded.

You squeeze down around the eggs without meaning do, bile rising in your throat as they catch on your entrance, too big to push out without any help. Your eyes land on the crimson shell and pearl pushed over to the side of the cave. Your chest feels tight as it dawns on you that while the shell were likely a courting offer; the pearl must’ve been a mating offer. And you had accepted both. Your eyes begin to sting as you feel Jungkook’s chest rumble against yours, the pleased purrs making you feel sick. You hesitantly shift your gaze back to him, curling your fingers painfully tight into the wet locks underneath your palm as you find those deep red eyes already staring back at you. A twisted rendition of a smile blooms on his face, the rows of sharp teeth glistening as he looks down at you. The message in his gaze is clear – you’re keeping the eggs.

And there’s no way he’s letting you go.

a/n: oh boy. hopefully only those of you that were okay with the warnings made it this far. because i know i’ll get questions: jk fertilized his own eggs when he bred y/n, and y/n will basically serve as an incubator (poor girl lmao) for a while. she’ll push the eggs out eventually and then the eggs will hatch on their own. and no – i have no plans of doing jk’s pov any time soon, and it’s up to you to imagine y/n’s fate. anyway!! i hope you uhh, enjoyed this! and thank you for all the love and support for this mini series, it means a lot to me!  as always, see you all soon and stay safe! and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖

[trentaafcsblog]

NSFW Alphabet

Mason Mount

A - aftercare You’d be lying if you said that this wasn’t sometimes your favourite part about having sex, something about how soft and caring Mason becomes once the two of you have reached your highs just making you feel like the only girl in the world, and don’t get me wrong, he looks after you in the best possible way when you’re doing the business, but he’s just so much more attentive afterwards and he’s happy to kiss, cuddle and play with your hair as long as you need him to

B - body part Your ass, god he’s got an obsession with it, always catching him licking his lips whenever you wear *those* gym leggings or a tiny pair of shorts, and it’s got to the point where it feels weird not to have his hand glued to it twenty-four-seven

C - cum At the start of your relationship you were super strict about Mason wearing a condom, so it’s only recently that you’ve started to be a bit more adventurous when it comes to your orgasms, letting him try out all kinds of different things to see which you both prefer, whether that’s cumming on your ass, your your tits, in your mouth or inside your pussy, you’re still trying to figure that your one out, but it’s honestly the hottest thing knowing that at least one part of your body is decorated with his seed

D - dirty secret You’ve recently discovered the world of sexting, and it’s quite possibly your favourite thing, loving how you can pass your thumbs tapping away on your screen as ‘oh I’m just messaging my boyfriend’, when actually you’re begging him to be balls deep inside of you tonight whilst he fucks your pussy raw

E - exposed Not to jinx it but you haven’t been caught yet, there was one time where his mum came home from work early and you were face down on the mattress whilst Mason fucked you from behind, but that’s as close as it’s got, and fingers crossed it stays that way

F - foreplay Again, it’s something that’s taken time for the two of you to get into the swing of doing, but now it’s become an essential part of your sex lives, sometimes not even bothering to do the actual deed and instead just letting Mason eat you out whilst you suck his dick, loving how the other person can bring you so much pleasure in the most incredible ways

G - goofy At the start of your relationship there were a couple of times when you ended up in a fit of giggles, mainly because you were both worried incase you got ‘too’ into it and the other person wasn’t ready, but now you’re so much more comfortable around one another that it’s rare that you have outbursts of random giggles anymore 

H - horny Mason finds it hard not to be when you’re his girlfriend, always wandering around with a boner because you look so good all the time, looking at you with a twinkle in his eye each time you come down wearing a tiny top or a little pair of shorts in the hope that you catch on to what he’s thinking

I - intimacy It’s such an important part of your relationship, taking you a little while to feel completely comfortable around one another but now you’re both so close, both emotionally and sexually, which obviously helps when it comes to the bedroom

J - jack off Normally he tries to keep himself under control, especially since he knows that his hand has nothing on yours, but there have obviously been times when he’s been caught out and he just has to relieve some of his tension, sometimes struggling to keep himself sane when you’re busy spamming him with messages explaining how you’ll be sucking him off later

 K - kinks Mason’s got the biggest praise kink, loving how he thrusts deeper into your pussy or groans in your ear each time you call him your good boy, finding it so hot that those kinds of compliments just roll of your tongue without you even thinking, his brain fogging over with pure pleasure each time and causing his cock to almost explode 

L - location You usually stick to the bedroom, obviously there have been occasions where you’ve had sex on the sofa halfway through a movie or let him bend you over the kitchen whilst you’re making dinner, but you much prefer to keep it under the covers

M - moaning That boy knows what he’s doing so it’s practically impossible for you to hold back your moans, always turning into a complete whimpering mess for him when he’s slamming into you, and Mason’s just the same, always grunting and groaning in your ear with each thrust because you make him feel so good 

N - nudes You’ve both sent and received a fair few, Mason always choosing to pass his over when you’re out for lunch with your friends or sat at work, a series of photos of his rock solid cock appearing on your screen and causing the most furious blush to sweep across your cheeks, Mason finding it hilarious how you’ll get so turned on in an environment where you can’t do anything about it, only giving you a reason to punish him when you’re home 

O - oral His favourite thing in the whole wide world is seeing you knelt before him with his cock in your mouth, fucking your face for hours on end just so that he can hear you gagging and spluttering around him, your eyes streaming with tears and rolling back into your head as his cock hits the back of your throat

P - position Mason’s got two favourites - doggy and missionary, his choice of position depends on the mood that he’s in, opting for doggy if he wants to be a bit rough and reach his orgasm quickly, but choosing missionary when he wants to be a bit more intimate with you, loving how he can be so much closer to you and how you can feel his thrusts so much deeper

Q - quickie You both prefer longer sex sessions but obviously when the seconds are counting down on the clock then you’re making the most of the time that you have together, letting Mase fuck you at the most ridiculous speed before he needs to go to training or before you’re about to head out for dinner with your mates, loving how you can go about your day afterwards as though you haven’t just had your brains blown out, nobody knowing what you’ve been up to other than you two

R - risk You’re not the biggest risk takers to be honest, preferring to keep your sex life exclusively between the two of you rather than sharing it with a whole car park or holiday complex, but saying that, you have let Mason fuck you on the balcony in the early hours of the morning and you’ve also sucked him off in one of the back rooms at Stamford Bridge, yet other than that it’s pretty much safe sex in the company of just you and Mase

S - spit/swallow Swallow, always, why would you want to waste the aftermath of all of your hard work? Mason finding it the hottest thing ever that you don’t even have to contemplate your next move when he cums in your mouth, giving him your best innocent eyes or a little wink before you’re swallowing it down without any hesitation

T - toys You’ve got a vibrator that occasionally makes an appearance when you feel like you’re missing something in the bedroom, but nine times out of ten, you just let Mason do the work, his cock hitting all of the places that no toy could and his fingers rubbing your clit in a way that feels so good that you can’t even compare it to a vibrator, both of you preferring to be the people that bring each other pleasure, rather than letting a toy do the work

U - unfair Never ever ever, Mason’s honestly the sweetest person when it comes to sex so he’ll never cum before you, and even if he’s desperate to reach his orgasm, then he’ll try and hold off until your pussy is spasming around his cock first, hating seeing you begging and whining for him to let you cum so he’s always making sure that your needs are met well before his own

V - volume You can be prettyyy loud, which isn’t really hard when Mason fucks you so well, loving how you can scream his name as loudly as you want when it’s just you and him, your moans bouncing off the walls and echoing in his ears for hours afterwards, honestly finding your whines and whimpers so fucking sexy, especially since he knows he’s the only one making you feel that way

W - wild card Mason’s recently invested in a Polaroid camera to try and capture some of your best memories together, and somehow it’s managed to make its way into the bedroom too, resting on his bedside table until the perfect photo opportunity arises, taking a few snaps and hiding them away ready to look at when you need a bit of inspiration

X - x-ray It’s a good size, a veryyy good size, well and truly filling you up and managing to hit all of the right places, so you definitely aren’t complaining, even if it does sometimes take you a while to adjust to his length, much to Mason’s satisfaction 

Y - yearning He’s always in the mood to fuck you, I mean, who wouldn’t be when they’ve got such a pretty girl as their partner? Always catching him staring at your ass or letting his mind run free when his gaze brushes over your tits, but you don’t mind, because secretly you’re doing exactly the same to him

Z - zzz It’s hard not to fall asleep after sex, particularly your longer sessions, and regardless of whether it’s emotion-based or rough, it’s still wearing you both out and you can’t help but collapse in each other’s arms and drift off into a deep sleep afterwards, staying in the same position until the sun starts rising and you’re woken up to the memories of last night 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part VII

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1864.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

________

You wanted to slap yourself. What the hell was wrong with you today? Why did you tell Peter that?!

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...” Completely baffled with you behavior, you were deeply ashamed, unable to look the guy in the eyes and wanting nothing but fall into the earth.

“Ah, I got it. It’s Steve, isn’t it?” All of a sudden, Peter let out an irritated sigh, rolling his eyes skywards and rubbing his neck. “Of course, who else would say such nonsense. Blackmail, really? Funny he didn’t call me a stalker or anything.”

“Listen, I didn’t mean it, I’m really-”

“It’s ok.” He closed the locker, slamming its door loudly and making you jump. “It’s not your fault. If I heard that from somebody, I’d be scared too.”

He spent a couple of seconds staring into the wall until he rubbed his neck again tiredly and huffed. It took him less than a minute to regain his composure, and you heard him murmuring, “What a freak.”

He didn't return to the corridor, heading to the sports hall for his PE class, instead moving to the bench in the locker room and motioning you to sit. Feeling terribly awkward, you hoped he wasn't going to do anything out of anger, even though he had every right to be upset at your stupid behavior.

"About what he said," Peter took a deep breath, "it's nothing like that. I don't dig up some nasty stuff in the web to blackmail people. I've never done it. The reason why Mr. I-am-better-than-you said that is because I've made him take me into his little bodyguard group when I heard him talking to Loki. You're nice, and I wanted to help. Of course, Steve started acting like I was some creep, so he refused, and I had to remind him that, technically, he had to report your issue to the administration, not play a hero. I said that if I go and tell the whole story to the dean, Steve's gonna be in trouble because he knew who thieves were and didn't report them."

It was a loud off your mind. Goodness. Rogers called this a blackmail? Really? Just because Peter pushed Steve into taking him into their group?

You were less and less sure Rogers was sane. You definitely had to be careful around him.

"I can't believe he called it a blackmail." You admitted quietly, and the guy sent you a tired smile. "Peter, I'm so, so sorry. It was so stupid of me."

"Nah, don't worry. I'd freak out too if I didn't know the whole story."

You knew your apologies weren't enough, but you hoped Peter didn't take it to heart - if you can take such an accusation easily, that is. Shit, shit, shit, why did you believe everything these guys were saying? You didn't even know them in the first place! Why on Earth did you go asking them their opinions on others if all of them were biased, and every guy could twist the truth the way he liked? You shouldn't have let their words affect you that much.

"Whatever. At least now you know what Rogers is like." Peter sent you a grim smile and got up, picking his bright yellow sackpack from the floor. "Shit, I gotta go if I don't wanna be late. Let's meet in a library later, alright?"

"O-of course." You hurriedly stood up and left the lockers room after him, turning to the library: your Lit class was cancelled, so you decided to go study right away. At this time, the library was usually full, and you felt safe there.

Your thoughts were all about the guys again even when you were staring at your laptop, trying to focus on Excel numbers. Why did you feel like the atmosphere between them was so dense? If they were at such terms with each other, why did they group together to help you? What, because all of them loved you so much? It was ridiculous. There was something else to it, and you didn't know. You had a feeling no one was going to tell you the truth until you figured it all out by yourself.

Weird. It was all so weird. Steve's plan, their behavior, the relationships between them, and your nagging feeling they all were hiding something. Was it them who were actually following you?

The thought scared you to the point you started shivering. Oh shit.

"Hi there," the guy appeared behind your back so suddenly you almost jumped, looking at him wide-eyed, "sorry, did I startle you?"

"H-hi Jake! No, it's ok, I was just... studying." Both of you were talking in hushed voices, knowing the librarian would kick you out immediately if she heard some noise. "How are you?"

"I'm great, how're you?" You could hear concern in his voice: he was one of Thor's friends you met yesterday, and although you spoke briefly, Thor definitely told him more about you. "You look a bit worried."

"Oh, it's Math, I didn't really understand the topic, and we're having an exam on Monday... guess I'll be studying the whole weekend." You gave him your best smile to reassure you were totally ok, and the guy relaxed a little, smiling at you, too.

"I'm sure you'll pass. Thor said you're very smart."

What, he said that to all of them? Was he simply boasting about his girlfriend to his friends or was there something more to it?

"You're too kind. Thank you."

His smile grew wider, and he landed on the next seat to yours, resting his hands on the table. Apparently, there was something he wanted to talk to you about, and you grew uneasy.

"Listen, about these incidents... Thor told us all about it, so if you see any freaks following you around, you can message any of us, and we'll come right away." Looking at his serious expression, his bushy brows furrowed, you hoped he eas being sincere with you: you had enough with people you could no longer trust. "And also... that kid, if he's giving you troubles or anything, just let me know, and I'll tell him to keep his hands to himself"

Oh, he was talking about Peter, wasn't he? He had probably seen that silly photo. Wow, you though, Peter was totally right about Instagram: it was the best news source in the academy.

Thanking him for his concern, you laughed a little, convincing him there was nothing serious except for the theft and promising to tell him if anything weird would be going on. While it should have made you feel safer, in fact, you only grew more frustrated with this situation. You wanted to forget about these freaks and just spend you day like any normal student would, but everywhere you went people were staring at you as if you had a horn; one boyfriend or the other was always close to protect you from some unknown danger, and although you believed they tried to help, you hated the feeling they were hiding something from you. Why did you have to be going through all this? Wasn't it really better to drop off school, spend a year working and then apply to a better place?

Thinking of the faces your parents would make once you returned home, you realized it wasn't. This school with all those creeps wasn't worse than home that never felt like a safe place you wanted to come back to. Besides, all money you saved up until now were only good for buying food and things like that: you'd never afford to rent a decent place unless you found a well-paid job. It meant staying with your parents, and it wouldn't be much better than here, just different. If you wanted to drop off, you had to find a good place to stay.

Well, you could at least try, right?

When Peter met you in the library, the two of you no longer talked about anything important, simply studying together to prepare for the exams next week. It didn't feel off: from time to time you met his gaze, and the both of you smiled. You were thankful he didn’t talk about Steve or other guys or that weirdo in the lockers room.

Once you returned home, you went straight to bed, completely exhausted. Luckily, you did much more than yesterday, so you could rest now, but then you thought of Thor kissing you and bit down the pillow, angry at yourself. Why did you keep thinking of him right now?

______________

When you woke up the next morning, you felt like something was off: your body ached, your throat hurt, and your headache was only making it worse. Dammit, you caught a cold, probably. And that’s when it was finally the day to meet Steve, the guy you thought was a mastermind behind all these manipulations that were making you sick to the core. 

Anyway, it’s not like a mere cold would prevent you from doing everything you had planned. You left your bed and went to the bathroom, moving the dresser before again. 

Honestly, it felt terrible. It was definitely because of that flimsy dress you wore to school yesterday when the weather was becoming chilly. Argh. Watching your puffy eyes and swollen nose, you sneezed. Today you had to apply way more makeup to look decently.

Steve showed up earlier than either Thor or Peter: you had to skip your breakfast, hoping to buy something cheap in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” He said with his everyday polite expression that soon shifted into a concerned one. “Are you alright?”

What, was it that bad? You did your absolute best to apply enough makeup and do your hair. Did you still look so sick?

“Good morning. Yes, I’m ok, just feeling a little sleepy.” You yawned on purpose, covering your mouth with your hand, and Steve’s face softened.

“Did you study all night?”

“Yep, exams are driving me a little crazy.”

“I understand. I also stayed late last night.”

Of course, the student council president studying all days long to be number one student in the academy. If you didn’t know of his twisted nature, you’d think he was the most typical nerd.

You spent most of the time either in silence or talking about studies, the academy, and everything related to it. Steve acted like a gentleman and a scholar, albeit a little too demonstratively. Walking with you as if he were a king of the place, he constantly replied to greetings of others, waved to his acquaintances and smiled. You felt so off you wanted to find Loki and walk with him: unlike Steve, he was considered unpleasant by the prevailing majority of students.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” America golden boy asked you for the last time, and you forced yourself to smile.

“Of course. Thanks for coming, see you later, Steve.”

As he finally left you in peace, you almost fell down into your chair, your fever only getting worse despite the fact you took some painkillers. It was going to be a long day.

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi @nectav @whatever-happened-to-the-ducks

[brywrites]

Lock and Key I

Summary: In which Spencer Reid stumbles upon a GED class at Millburn and feels something like hope for the first time in weeks.

[Series Masterlist]

....

The prison library is a haven, for the few minutes he’s allowed to visit twice a week. It’s quiet, secluded, and full of his favorite things – books. The selection is nowhere near as nice as his personal collection at home, or the public library, but it’s better than nothing. Without words, he’d go mad. He needs stories to keep him sane, to give him a route he can escape by.

Today though, he’s startled to walk into the small space and find twelve other prisoners inside – accompanied by a face he’s never seen before. A woman. What’s even more surprising is that she doesn’t wear the uniform of a guard or an employee. Instead she’s in Converse sneakers and a lavender polka-dotted dress. It’s been so long since he saw that color – any bright color, really. But it’s his favorite and it isn’t until that moment that the realizes how much he’s missed the simplest of things. The sight of his favorite color. Bright images in dull spaces. Things that look hopeful.

Reid isn’t sure what’s going on, but the other prisoners seem to be too absorbed in the books to notice him. Just as he’s thinking he can back away quietly and return tomorrow, she turns around, smiling at the sight of him.

“Well hello there!” she says. “Are you Luis?”

Reid tilts his head, confused. How does this stranger know his friend? “Uh, no, no I’m not. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Her smile drops, though she doesn’t seem annoyed. Merely disappointed. “Oh. They told me Luis would be joining us today, but he never showed up. I’m Y/N. I’m one of the teachers here.”

This is the first he’s heard of such a thing. “You teach?”

She nods. “That’s right! I teach a couple of different groups – a few college classes here and there, a resume workshop. This is my GED class. We’re starting a unit on British Literature so they’ve all come to pick out a novel. You must be new here,” she notes, looking him over. He can feel himself flush under her gaze. It’s been a while since someone looked at him just to see him and not to evaluate his potential as a threat or a tool. “If you’d like, you can join the class. I’ve got plenty of open seats.”

“Oh no, I don’t need a GED.”

“It’s never too late to graduate,” she says. Then, considering him, “But that’s not what you meant is it?”

The way she’s studying him makes him nervous, though he’s certain it’s the same way he’s studied suspects and victims, trying to see beyond the obvious and understand what lies beneath. How strange, to be on the other side of that stare. “I’ve graduated high school already,” he informs her, hoping he doesn’t sound aloof. “And college. Actually, I hold three PhDs.”

“In what?”

“Mathematics, chemistry, and engineering.”

Y/N holds his gaze, taking this in. It’s as though she’s trying to decide whether or not to believe him. He figures in this environment, perhaps it’s not unusual to be told blatant lies by some prisoners. Delusion and paranoia aren’t uncommon. To teach in a place like this, she would have to be insightful and observant. For whatever reason, she must decide to trust him, because she smiles again.

“Well that’s rather impressive. You’re more qualified than I am. Just a Master’s for me.”

Reid decides against commenting in the irony of the situation, that despite his qualifications he’s nothing but a prisoner here. The same category as every drug-dealer, murderer, petty thief, and gangbanger. No better. But the way she looks at him, it at least makes him feel normal again. She looks at him like he’s a human being, with no disdain or disgust in her gaze, and no air of superiority in her voice.

“What did you study?” he asks her.

“English literature in college, education in grad school. I specialized in literature and languages, though I’m not too shabby when it comes to history. If it’s the STEM field you’ll be wanting though, you’ll have to check in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, my colleague teaches those classes.”

Glancing down at her watch, her eyes widen. “Goodness, we’re almost out of time.” She turns to the other inmates and instructs them to make their choices before she has to dismiss class for the day. To him, she adds, “It was nice to meet you – um…”

“Doct-” he begins, before stopping himself. This isn’t a normal introduction. Here, he holds no title, no position of importance. “Er, Spencer. My name is Spencer.”

“Well, Doc –” He tries not to smile at her casual acknowledgment – “if you ever change your mind, we meet Mondays and Wednesdays in room W15 during the afternoon rec slot.”

Despite having no need to attend a GED class, and for reasons he cannot quite explain, he finds himself slipping into that very room on Wednesday afternoon. Y/N glances up from the whiteboard she writes on, faltering for only a brief moment when she catches sight of him slipping into an empty seat in the back row, but she carries on. They’re talking about common themes in Brit Lit, and she’s explaining the Canterbury Tales, which they’ll be reading parts of. From what Reid gathers, there aren’t enough copies of books for them to all read the same novel, but she’s printed out large sections of the Tales for them to read together. It’s familiar, and for someone whose life has largely revolved in academia, it’s soothing to be in an environment where learning is taking place and discussion is happening. Even though he sits silently in the back row, observing.

The other inmates have all picked out books to read on their own and report on, from King Lear to Brave New World. A few have even selected Bronte and Austen novels, which Y/N applauds them for. When she divides them into groups to read and discuss “The Knight’s Tale,” she slips over to join Reid in the back of the room.

“I didn’t think you’d make it, Doc,” she tells him.

He shrugs. “I – I’ve kind of missed the classroom. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to sit in. If you don’t mind, of course!”

“Not at all.” She smiles, dismissing his worry with a wave of her hand. “The more the merrier. Besides, it’s rare that I have students with such an extensive education beforehand.  You’ll need to file an enrollment slip though, just for official records.”

She hands him a piece of paper and a commissary pen. While he doesn’t need the credit, he could use the normalcy. Discussions about books with other people in a space that feels a little safer – even if it doesn’t look like the classrooms he’s used to. The walls are stark white and bare save for three posters of famous writers and scientists. The two windows have thick bars on them. The desks are bolted to the floor. Every man in the room wears prison issued blues. But there is a whiteboard and a bookshelf and a clock. And Y/N, in a bright blue turtleneck. It makes him think of the sky, which he only gets a glimpse of for a few hours each week. Suddenly, she’s become the most vivid connection to the outside world.

“How long have you been teaching here?” he asks as he writes down answers to the form’s printed questions.

“Almost three years now. It started with just GED classes, but some volunteer programs have helped us bring new opportunities to the guys. It took me a while to convince the warden, but they’ve been a huge success. So are you coming from another facility? I know we had some transfers last week.”

He shakes his head. “I uh, I haven’t been sentenced yet. But there was overcrowding at the jail so they sent me here.” Reid pauses. “I assumed you would’ve known that.” The inmate records are publicly available. All she’d have to do is search his name or the number on his clothing and everything she needed to know would be right there – his charges, his admission date, his identifying information and that ID photo from his first day.

But she just shrugs. “I make a point not to look up what my students have been convicted of. I let them volunteer that information if they choose to, but I respect their privacy. Besides, I’d like to believe all of us are more than the worst thing we’ve ever done.”

He’s struck by her words. After all, for the last decade his job has been to see people precisely as the worst thing they’ve ever done. To delve deep into those actions and develop a profile of a person on that alone. He has an impulse to dismiss her statement as naïve, but it reminds him of Garcia, of her boundless optimism and her ability to see the best in the world even after looking at the worst of it. That memory and the smile Y/N looks at him with softens the heart he’s been carefully hardening since he arrived here. And so rather than dampen her spirit he asks, “Does it matter if I’ve read all of the books you’re discussing already?”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly with surprise. “All of them?”

“My mother was a literature professor,” he says. “And I just really like books.”

“Well, typically I’d encourage you to take the courses we offer for college credit but they’re full. Since you already have your GED, I suppose we could treat it like you’re auditing. It might help some of the guys to have someone with a little more academic experience…” She trails off and then gasps. “Oh wait! How would you feel about being the TA for the class? It’s been so long since I had one for the GED classes.”

“Like… grade papers and things?”

“No, not like that,” she says. “There are strict rules about who sees what here. Being a TA for me would be less typical TA duties and more of mentoring the other students, helping me clean up after class, re-shelving books, things like that. It’s not an official job so there’s no pay, but you would get good time credit.”

Though he doesn’t know what his sentence here will be, if he’s sentenced at all, he knows that any good time credit he can obtain to reduce the length of it is worth it. And so he says, “Okay.”

Y/N’s eyes light up. Her smile is the prettiest thing he’s seen since he got here. “Perfect! Oh, this is so exciting. I’m glad you joined us.” When he finishes the paperwork, she leads him to an empty seat at a group of tables.

“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Porkchop. It’s a love story,” one of the men is saying to another.

“Come on now, Xavier, you know the rules,” Y/N interrupts. “Nicknames stay outside the classroom. We use first names here.”

“Sorry, Teach,” Xavier says. He tries again. “It’s a love story, Carl.”

“That’s more like it. Carl, I can’t wait to hear your response. But first, I’m going to have Spencer join your group, alright? He’s our newest student and our TA for the class. He’s read a lot of these books so if you’re having a hard time or want to talk to someone about the material outside of class time, he’s a great person to ask.”

The group welcomes him – Xavier, Carl, Richie, and Luis. Reid is grateful to be with Luis, the one person he knows he can consider a friend inside. They talk about Chaucer and “The Franklin’s Tale,” and he’s surprised by the critiques and connections his peers make. Their debate is certainly different than the conversation he’d expect to find at a university class, but their ideas are still insightful and interesting. They make connections to their own lives, to the sacrifices they have made and the power of love they have witnessed firsthand. Mothers who never stop fighting for their appeal cases. Friends who send money so they can afford commissary. The difficulty of skipping commissary so they can send money home to their own families outside.

When their discussion finally winds down, Reid asks, “What’s the rule with nicknames about?”

“It’s Miss Y/N’s way of humanizing people,” Xavier says. “She says when we use first names like that, we’re all equals. But it’s different outside of class. We stick to nicknames because that’s what you do, y’know?” Reid shakes his head. Xavier chuckles. “You’re fresh meat, huh. First time you been down? In here, COs turn you into just a number or a last name. So nicknames inside are a way to hold on to some of your identity. Beyond that, there’s some guys in here you don’t want knowing your name, you feel me?”

“Nicknames gotta be given to you by someone else. Can’t make your own. Course, that means they’re usually a little insulting. They call me Porkchop,” Carl says. “Xavier’s Hammerhead. Richie is Spiders. And Luis, he been christened Slim Jim yesterday at chow. But don’t worry, we’ll find one for you soon.” Reid isn’t sure how to feel about the assurance. He doesn’t want to belong here, doesn’t want to fit in or get comfortable. On the other hand, he may be here for a while. Maybe laying low and finding allies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

He knows one thing for sure – as he walks out of class, Y/N flashes that bright smile at him again. And for some reason, it makes him feel hopeful. More hopeful than any session with lawyers or judges has made him feel. Monday can’t come soon enough.

[Next]

..

Tags: @calm-and-doctor​ @averyhotchner​

[crossdreamers]

It Looks Like the Biden Presidency Will Be a Force for Good for Transgender People World Wide

he Joe Biden administration may actually make a huge difference for transgender people, not only in America, but all over the world.

2014 was the transgender tipping point, with unprecedented trans visibility and acceptance. Then came the backlash.

The anti-trans backlash

In Europe we have seen extremist governments in Hungary and Poland attack  the LGBTQA community. In Britain some so called “radical feminists” have joined forces with right wing transphobes in a media blitz against trans and nonbinary people. In the US the Trump administration has done its best to undo several years of transgender progress.

Transgender people has  become the focal point for extremists who fear gender diversity, much in the same way as lesbian and gay people were used as scapegoats in the 20th century. 

This is not primarily about trans people. It is about political power and the desire to turn the clock back some 100 years, back to a time with traditional gender roles and a world run by conservative white men. 

As we can see, they are using racism, homophobia and transphobia to achieve their objectives.

The effects of transphobic policies

The various anti-trans policies affect trans people negatively for several reasons: 

Firstly, obviously, they harm trans people because they are denying  them the chance to live a normal life. 

Secondly they hurt transgender people by creating an atmosphere of fear.

This is why the Biden administration may be of help to transgender people all over the world, and not only in the US. 

The Capitol terrorist attack has shown the world what kind of evil we are dealing with here, and having  a sane president supporting transgender people will be seen as a clear signal for change in the right direction all over the world.

What has Biden said and done about trans people so far?

According to the Washington Post  Biden has called the trans struggle the “civil rights issue of our time.”

In 2017, he endorsed Danica Roem, the first openly trans person to be elected to a state legislature in U.S. history.

Biden  asked transgender veteran Shawn Skelly to be part of his presidential transition team at the Department of Defense.

The Post reports that when he left the vice presidency, Biden partnered with other advocates to start the As You Are campaign to advocate for families’ acceptance of their transgender children.

What are Biden and Harris going to do?

Biden has promised to overturn every Trump administration rule that limits transgender rights, including tossing out its near-total ban on transgender troops serving in the military. 

He will also reinstate the Obama-era guidance for protecting transgender students that the Trump administration took away.

Biden has said he will protect the rights of anyone who qualifies to adopt, regardless of religion or family composition.

Legal experts expect that  Biden’s Department of Education will switch sides in two legal battles regarding transgender athletes — one in Connecticut and  one  in Idaho.

Furthermore, the Biden administration will  provide anti-bias training for federal employees and offer incentives for states that adopt programs that help prepare transgender people for the workplace.

Keep in mind that Biden will also try to get the Equality Act passed by Congress. This  law will add sexual orientation and gender identity to existing federal civil rights laws, banning discrimination against LGBTQA people in housing, public accommodations, credit and more. Since the Democratic Party now controls the Senate, there is a  chance that the law will go through.

In support of Black trans people

The Washington post writes:

During a town hall meeting with voters, Biden surprised even longtime LGBTQ advocates when he addressed the killing of transgender women — largely of color. At least 43 transgender or gender-nonconforming people were killed in the United States in 2020, according to the Human Rights Campaign. 

Advocates praised Biden for bringing the issue to the national stage and vowing to direct federal resources to prevent and prosecute such homicides.

“There’s an opportunity here for a national discussion on transgender people of color who are often just left out of the national conversation,” said David J. Johns, executive director of the National Black Justice Coalition, a civil rights organization dedicated to the Black LGBTQ community. 

“Even though the transgender community may have more visibility in TV shows like ‘Pose,’ the vitriol at the policy level that exists within the system leaves no promise of justice.”

Johns said he hopes to see more LGBTQ leaders of color appointed in Biden’s administration.

Under the Obama administration American embassies world wide were decorated in rainbow colors. I expect that to happen again, and that would be a clear message to homophobes and transphobes all over the world that America is again on the side of justice.

Not all of these changes will happen over night, though. LGBTQ Nation reports that Biden’s landmark LGBTQA rights legislation could take more than 100 days to pass. The Corona virus and the Trump impeachment will obviously have an effect. 

Photo: Reuters

[artxyra]

Healing Gotham | Part 1

Prologue 

Tim was having an off day. At first he had thought it was due to him surviving off of weeks’ worth of caffeine, but that was not it—not it at all. When Tim had first arrived at Wayne Enterprise, all of its employees were having a rush. Paperwork was thrown around, gather, shredded within seconds of each other. The young co-CEO couldn’t find it in him to care enough until it was lunchtime. An older employee was going around collecting NDA’s from all the new employees—like that wasn’t an everyday experience. Tim had half the brain capacity to contact Bruce for information, and yet he doesn’t do it.

Then Tim returns to the manor, cars from his extended siblings, and family members parked within the gates. Once again, this was not an unusual sight for the coffee addict. Well, it wasn’t an unusual sight until he stepped into the manor.

On one of the couches sat Steph, Cass, and Damian all looking to the people on the other side of the room. Kate stands leaning against the window waiting for the shoe to drop. Tim didn’t know where to sit. He only had two options: sit beside the mess of his older brothers or sit where there was the least amount of space next to his other siblings.

Finally taking in his environment, he notices something scary. Jason and Dick weren’t in their usual moods aka brooding and dramatic but on the verge of a massive mental breakdown. Jason was clutching his hair staring down at his lap repeating the words, “She’s going to kill me” as if it was the end of the world. Dick was mimicking the words with “Not if she kills me first, I’m too young to die”. This was such a shock, that Tim had to take a long sip of coffee to make sure it was true, and even then he had to pinch himself as a reminder that he was awake.

“Master Tim, the amount of caffeine you are consuming is terrible. Perhaps taking a rest would help.” Alfred offers with little room to negotiate, but Tim swears he is fine to which the family butler did not believe. “Uh-huh…” Taking the thermos out of Tim’s hand, the young co-CEO is left with nothing.

“You’re seeing this too, right? Tim asks his siblings that weren’t in the Wayne family as long as the older two. Steph is simply recording the nature of their situation—probably blackmail material for her and Barbara. Cass simply examines her older siblings wondering what has gotten into their heads. She was sure that Bruce was internally panicking based on his fingers tapping against his suit jacket and constant inching to the couch. Looking beside her, it was obvious that Damian hates being out of the loop and was moments away from exploding. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to sit beside Damian for this family meeting.

“What has gotten you three so worked up?” Kate asks from the safety of her position. Watching the three break down may be fun and all, but she had a life to live also outside of her cousin’s BS.

“Master Bruce now would be the best time to explain our situation,” Alfred suggests coming back into the room with a tray of teacups and a pot of tea. The butler knows the family is going to need it after dropping a bomb like this to the newest Waynes.

As much as Alfred was right, Bruce knew he couldn’t keep this hidden. He can already tell that Damian was seconds away from stabbing Dick or Jason for being in such an off-putting mood. Tim would be forever confused until he gets a good rest, Cass may like having someone other then him to talk to, and Steph—well Steph will just be Steph.

Bruce was so deep in thought that he didn’t acknowledge the peak of Jason’s and Dick’s mental break down.

“She’s going to kill me…I would rather face the Joker than be on the receiving end of her anger.” Jason finally speaks something than the mantra he has been chanting for the past hour.

“Here’s how she’ll do it, kill Bruce, then me, and then you. Alfred’s safe because it’s Alfred.” Dick adds pointing to each person he has mentioned, furthering the family’s confusion.  Kate, on the other hand, received the message loud and clear and end up bursting into laughter.

“Good to know you find humor in our incoming deaths, Katie,” Dick says pouting with arms crossed against his chest.

“What is Kane laughing about, Father?” Damian asks with a dangerous intent beneath his words.

“In just a couple of days, the Manor Wayne is welcoming an old visitor…my sister… your aunt.” Bruce finally speaks with a heavy sigh. It was if he was preparing for the mental battle this family is about to go through.

“Sister?” “Aunt?” “What?” Various amounts of reactions echo across the room. Every one of his children that had no clue about the oldest Wayne’s sister was just given a wake-up call.

“Yes, I have a sister. She’s my younger sister, and she’ll be staying at the Manor until she finds herself her own place, and this is if she decides to move to Gotham permanently.” Bruce then adds.

“You mean she’s staying here?” Damian cries out, he already hates the fact that most his siblings typically stay in and out of the manor, but to have a new resident just screams trouble.

“Yes, which also means we all need to keep our nightly activities on the down-low. Marin Etta has no idea that I am Batman or that Dick and Jason were Robin, and I like to keep it that way. This means Jason, no bringing anything related to the Gotham Underground, Dick you do what you’ve always done. The rest you better be on your best behavior.”

“Well this is the best news; I haven’t seen Mars since the wedding and that was five years ago.” Kate pushes herself off the wall and goes to hug Bruce. “Call me when she arrives, it will be nice to have a girls’ trip or something.”

“Katie…” Bruce sighs but the look on his cousin’s face says otherwise and it was best to leave this alone. “I will.”

Once Kate was out of the room, Damian loudly growls. “I don’t like this.”

“For once I agree with the Demon Spawn,” Tim says, though in Tim’s mind he wasn’t sure what was happening. His brain acknowledges Kate leaving but the moments before seem like a dazed.

“Tim, you okay?” Steph asks as the person in question sway. “Better yet when was the last time you slept?” She receives no answer from the in and out of the conscious male.

“Why are we just now hearing about this so-called sister.” Damian questions as if he was the only person sane in the household—which he’s not. It’s not like he’s trying to gain as much information about this aunt of his so that he could look her up and do a background check. That is totally what he will be doing.

Bruce, seeming to ignore Damian’s underlying intent, sighs and reply with, “She and I had a fall out when Jason died, and we barely speak. This is the first time in a while that she’ll be back.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” Cass murmurs under her breath evading all the glances her way. It’ll be nice to have seen someone other than her adopted family, but at the same time just how will this new person fit into their family.

“Better yet why do Grayson and Todd know about her while the rest of us don’t?” Damian asks gesturing to his other siblings. “You have no photos of the woman, so why must I believe that you have a sister.” From this Bruce could feel a migraine coming in the longer this goes on.

“Look, Little D, Mari is like a sister or a mother figure to Jason and I. There are reasons outside of this room as to why she is so well hidden. You know that room that Bruce forbids anyone from going into?” Dick replies instead of Bruce. Both he and Jason need to wrap up this conversation to prep for their incoming deaths by Mari. He was definitely sure that Bruce was about to do the same and Mari-proof the manor’s access to the Batcave.

“Na’am,” Damian says begrudgingly.

“That’s Mari’s room and will forever be her wing until she no longer needs it.” Dick finishes off his statement, which clearly did not do anything for the youngest Wayne. He then turns to Jason who was in less of a panic but in more of a defensive planning stage. “C’mon Jaybird, we have lots of pre-death planning before Sunshine returns to the Gotham.”

“Once again, I rather die by the Joker than by her, B-man you owe us so much for this,” Jason states before walking out the living room with Dick following behind.

Bruce sighs heavily and returns to his remaining children, well those that are still awake. Tim had passed out and will most likely be for the time being.

“Father…”

“Not now Damian. I will answer the rest of your questions later. I have a sister-proofing mission to handle.” With that Bruce takes his leave.

“This family can never be normal could it?” Steph wonders as she picks up Tim and places him over her shoulder.

“I agree with you on that. Need a hand?” Cass responds looking at the failing form of Steph’s body as she lugs Tim over to the entranceway.

“Nope, I’m fine,” Steph replies before she and Tim disappear into the shadows of the manor.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Damian states crossing his arms and taking his leave also.

Cass stares at the leaving figure of her younger brother and shakes her head. She knows that Damian would not leave this alone until he hits rock bottom. Let that be her mysterious aunt herself or Bruce making his word-final.

A couple days later at the Gotham City Airport, a woman with a concave bob hairstyle stands outside the pickup area with her three suitcases next to her. Bing. She looks down to see the name Alfred popping up against the screen.

“Yes Alfred, I’m here… I’m still at the airport. No, you don’t need to give me a—” She pauses allowing the Wayne family butler to reply. “Alright, I’ll see you in a few.”  With that, she ends the conversation and places the phone in her back pocket.

This person is nonother than Marin Etta Martha Wayne or as the people in Paris, France calls her Marinette Martha Dupain-Cheng Couffaine.

Part 2 >>

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[motherjoel]

Leading Lady (Spencer Reid x Reader)

chapter four- talented little thing

wc: 1.8k

summary: you get to know the team a bit more before your first tech rehearsal

a/n: hope you guys like it! im also taking oneshot requests if you guys feel like you’d like to request something :)

chapter index: chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3

-

It wasn’t long before your small apartment felt even smaller- the team had showed up within 5 minutes and although you were extremely overwhelmed, you knew that this was the safest you could be. Reid was frantically running around, talking to various people in FBI jackets and you felt like you were standing in the eye of a hurricane. You sat down at your kitchen table and put your head in your hands, trying to calm down when you felt a presence next to you. Looking up, you saw the blonde agent you had met the other day, Agent Jareau was her name. 

“It’s going to be okay, I know the chaos can be a little much but this is how you know we're working our hardest,” she said, resting a comforting hand on your arm. 

“I know, and I'm really grateful. You've all been great, and Spencers… he's… great,” you decided, smiling to yourself. So, hey, maybe you had a little crush on the guy. It wasn’t like you could act on it, with him sleeping on your couch, but you couldn’t help the butterflies when he rambles about facts or blushes when you notice him looking at you.

“Yeah he is,” she smiled. “And he seems to feel the same way about you. I haven’t seen him this worked up about a case in awhile,” she said, her voice sounding a little suspicious.

“Oh,” was all you could muster. Maybe he just feels responsible for you and he doesn’t want to mess up. Before the two of you could continue your conversation, the team made their way over to you with a woman on a video chat screen who you remembered to be the bubbly Garcia. Spencer had his eyes trained on the files in his hand, the rest of the team was focused on you. The woman with black hair, Prentiss, spoke first.

“Y/N, is there anyone in your life that has been acting differently recently, maybe taking more interest in you?” she asked. This was surprising to you.

“You mean… I know this crazy stalker killer?” you asked, shocked. You thought it was just some random dude who has a vendetta against thespians. Morgan spoke next.

“Well, the thing is, none of the other victims had been followed this closely. It’s a change in his MO, leaving these photos on your door. He's taking special interest in you, and we think it's possible he's killing these other women as a way of playing out his fantasies of you,” he says with a concerned look.

“So… this person is killing all of these women because of me?” you questioned, your chest growing tight. You looked to Spencer for comfort but he was still looking down at the file. You know you shouldn’t feel guilty, there wasn’t any way you could have caused this, but you couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling. It seemed like Agent Jareau could sense your panic and she grabbed your hand in hers, Morgan put a hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s a strong possibility,” said Hotch. “Which is why it's important that you continue to go about your daily schedule as usual. We don't want the unsub to panic once we're onto him and get more people hurt. Spencer will continue to live with you and go everywhere with you, it's only a matter of time before the unsub messes up and makes himself known,” he finished. This was definitely a lot to take in, and although you appreciated the comfort of Agent Jareau and Agent Morgan, the one person you really wanted to comfort you was in a different world.

“So I can still go to my rehearsal tonight? It’s important that I don’t miss it, it’s the start of tech week” you said, hoping that it wasn’t too soon to be out in public. 

“Tech week?” questioned Morgan.

“Oohhhh, how exciting!” said Garcia and you smiled at her, grateful that you still had the show to keep you sane.

“Tech week is the week before the opening performance of a production where all of the technical aspects of the show are present and used in the rehearsal process,” Spencer said, as if on instinct, without looking up.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “and it's kinda important I’m there…” you trailed off.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot we're protecting a talented little thing! Eponine is a dream role of mine!” Garcia almost shouts.

“Aw, stop you’re making me blush,” you laughed, briefly forgetting the situation you were in. That's when you noticed the stern look from Hotch and you looked back to see Garcia with wide eyes mouthing “I'll text you.” You smiled and gave her a thumbs up, returning your attention to Hotch.

“Yes, you can go. If the unsub knows your schedule, he knows that it would be out of the ordinary for you to miss this rehearsal,” said Hotch, much to your relief.

The agents soon finished up at your apartment, and Agent Jareau (who you now call JJ upon her request) gave you her phone number in case you had questions or wanted to talk, which you thought was very nice and you were glad the two of you hit it off. 

Your apartment was now empty aside from you, still seated at the kitchen table and Spencer sitting on the couch. The agents were only in your home for an hour or two but it felt like an eternity. You hadn’t eaten yet all day so you decided to ask Spencer if he wanted to get lunch with you. You walked over to the couch and sat on the opposite side from him.

“So… wanna get some food?” you asked hoping he would look up from his work, and he did, but his face didn't show the soft smile that you had grown accustomed to.

“You want to go out now? Right after a stalker left a menacing envelope on your door?” he asked, with a skeptical look on his face. His harsh tone took you by surprise and your face visibly fell.

“Well I have a rehearsal later anyway, so we have to go out eventually…” you trailed off, his eyebrow still raised at you. “Fine, I guess we can order a pizza,” you huffed and walked back to the table where your phone was.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and you turned around, surprised.

“For what?” you asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t have anything to be sorry for, it's not like he was stalking you and killing these innocent women.

“I’m sorry that this is happening to you and I’m sorry you're stuck with me as company,” he said, looking away.

“Well I guess that first part makes sense, but you're great company!” you told him. He looked skeptical. “Seriously,” you continued, “I don’t know if any of the other agents would have ‘delved deep into their psyches’ with me, or gotten me to tell them about my dead dad,” you said bluntly.

“Well to be fair, you kind of did that without me asking…” he said with a slight smile. You gasped in fake shock.

“Ohhh, so that's how it's gonna be,” you laughed, the tension in the room dissipated. “Well I'm ordering the pizza now, cheese okay?” He nodded and smiled before focusing on his files once again. You were satisfied with yourself, glad that things seemed normal again.

-

Hours had passed since you ordered the pizza, which the two of you shared on the couch while watching Gilmore Girls (Reid, even being the genius he is, remarked how fast they talked in that show). It was time to leave for your rehearsal, and although Spencer insisted on driving, you could use the fresh air on a walk to clear your mind (or as fresh as the city could offer). You grabbed your purse, your script and water bottle and walked out the door with Spencer in tow, locking the door behind you. He offered to hold your script and you were hesitant but ultimately gave in.

The second your foot hits the sidewalk outside of your apartment you feel off. Maybe you were overreacting, but it was a similar feeling to the one of being watched that you had experienced a few days ago. You picked up your pace and Spencer seemed to notice and he did the same, his hand instinctively resting near his holster. You tried to make small talk in case anybody was listening in.

“So, the rehearsal is probably gonna be pretty long, but it might actually be entertaining. I mean you’ve read Les Mis in a couple languages so the show should be pretty easy to understand,” you jokingly told him. He chuckled beside you.

“And it's okay that I watch? Your director wont mind?” he asked.

“No, I'm sure it's fine if I just tell him once I get there. Fantine’s boyfriend watches rehearsals all the time,” you reassured him, before realizing what you had just said. “I mean not that you’re my, you know...” you said before he leaned down and lowered his voice.

“It's okay- the cover, remember? As far as anyones concerned, I'm your boyfriend,” he told you. This did about as much to reassure you as it did to give you butterflies. You just nodded and did your best to hide your blush. It wasn’t long before you were outside the theater, and you were thankful for that. You trusted that you were safe with Spencer but you couldn’t help being on edge 

The two of you stepped inside the lobby area where your director was finishing up a phone call. He hung up the phone and turned to greet you.

“Y/N, hello! Thank you for being on time,” he said, his voice laced with stress. You wondered who he was mad at for being late.

“No problem John. Oh, is it okay if my boyfriend sits in on the rehearsal? He’s visiting from out of town and he loves theatre,” you said, trying to seem as convincing as possible, although you didn’t hate the lie of Spencer being your boyfriend.

“Fine, he can take a seat in the back. Go get your costume on, mic check in 30,” he said, barely addressing Spencer before darting off and picking up a phone call. 

“So… I guess i'll see you soon. I might be able to sneak around and watch the first part of the show with you, I'm not onstage for a while,” you told him while leading him into the auditorium, seating him in one of the last rows.

“Okay,” he smiled. “Go break a leg,” he said, which sounded a little unnatural coming from him but it was really cute. The two of you laughed and you walked back out into the lobby to get changed in your dressing room, not taking notice of his eyes following your retreating form.

-

taglist: @mcntsee, @diesinspanishbcimhispanic, @chickens-are-life, @rexorangecouny

[qvid-pro-qvo]

Ooo if you’re still taking prompts I would love a Sonny Carisix fem!reader with “it’s two sugars right?” (64) and/or “it looks good on you” (32). Thank you *hugs*

sonny carisi x female!reader.

word count: 2319

rating: e for everyone, because missed signals and miscommunication happen to everyone... and that’s what coffee dates are for (hurt/comfort, a lot of uncertainty, and of course, coffee).

-

You find yourself over at Sonny Carisi’s more often than not nowadays. By the time the bar looms ever closer, you essentially are camping out there. His couch is just the right amount of broken-in that it doesn’t make your back ache too much, and you pay him back in grinding whole beans of coffee right before he stumbles home from his shifts at the precinct.

It’s a comfortable situation, for sure. He’s a good guy. Lets you camp out, studies with you, quizzes you, cooks for you. You feel like you’re paying rent at your own apartment for no good reason, and more and more like you should be paying some of his, especially when the actual test date approaches and feeling sick to your stomach coincides with non-stop prepping.

You borrow his clothes. You leave for work from his place. You’ve crashed on his bed once or twice, the two of you staying up ‘til the daylight breaks to go over every last detail.

But you’re not dating him. You’re not. And you definitely don’t have a crush on him because he most certainly does not have a crush on you.

It doesn’t matter. You’re still living at your own place, right? Even though you open the wrong cabinets to find the coffee and find yourself dropping more sugar into your own cup than you normally would because that’s how Sonny likes it. You’re still paying rent there, and showers there count at living, even though you bring over one of your own blankets to his so his couch feels a little cozier.

And the things he says don’t mean anything. Why would they? He’s Sonny Carisi. Joking is practically his middle name – he jokes and he teases and he pokes and he prods because he can. So when he jabs at you with his pen and makes you laugh, he doesn’t watch the way your face lights up, or anything silly like that. And when he notices you stole another shirt of his because you forgot one for the morning? Saying “it looks good on you” is just what it sounds like. Something banal, mundane. It has to be. There’s nothing in his gaze, nothing as it rakes over your body, nothing as he settles down next to you on the couch and squeezes your shoulder and taps your knee with his and comes home to you and smiles big and broad and wide –

It has to be nothing.

Because you don’t know what’d you do if you fell in love with Sonny Carisi. Not when you know so much about what waits for him at the precinct. Not when you know that the squad is his life and his future, not when you’re so incredibly aware that once the bar is done that’ll be that. A study buddy by chance, and a friend by circumstance, and once the time together stops being for a reason that makes him pass the bar, he’ll drop you.

And the fact of the matter is – God, the fact is you’ve had your heart broken before. You’ve had it stomped on and shattered into a million pieces, you’ve had it crushed and ripped out of your chest. And if it happened again, if it happened with Sonny… you just don’t know what you’d do. His name is Sonny, for God’s sake.

So, you do what any… sane, absolutely normal person would do in that situation.

You back off.

After all, it’s like you said. You don’t pay rent there, you don’t pay for groceries, and the couch is a comfortable couch but it’s not your bed. Sonny doesn’t deserve, and probably doesn’t want, you mooching off of his hard-earned paycheck by eating him out of house and home. He probably doesn’t want you stealing his clothes, and he probably doesn’t want you there the whole damn day. Why would he?

Why would he?

Because, in the end, you know what it is. You know it. And so one day, you decide not to drop by. And then the next day, and then the next. And then a week later, he stops asking.

Just like you thought. And it… it still hurts, it still hurts a lot, but. It’s for the best. It’s really for the best.

You study on your own. You study hard, and you work hard, and you try to ignore the voice in your head that is definitely Sonny Carisi’s – that voice that eggs you on, keeps you pushing, forces your eyes open in the law library at Fordham. You bear down and grind, and soon the bar is on top of you.

It’s right on top of you.

Dammit, it’s here.

-

Sonny ends up passing the bar, and it feels a little hollow. He finds out with Amanda and Fin standing over his shoulder, and he knows he should be rejoicing. All those hours, all that time, it pays off, right?

But instead he just feels… numb to it. It’s the shock, he thinks, or the surreal feeling of knowing that he’s a lawyer. He has his juris doctorate, and now he’s a fucking lawyer. But as soon as it crosses his mind, he pushes it aside, looks down at his phone, and sighs.

Doesn’t feel the same without you.

See, he doesn’t know what he did. He doesn’t know what happened. All he knows is that one day you were over, you were drinking his cocoa and studying on his couch and smiling at him. Something in your eyes, something in the way you shifted towards him, something in the way you laughed.

And the next –

Goddammit, you were gone. It was like a puff of smoke, you vanished, and invitations sent were neglected or rejected.

So he finished studying for the bar on his own. Finished it by hearing your voice in your head, light and lyrical, rough from lack of sleep, whatever. You urged him on even from a distance, and he pushed through that last month aching for your company again.

And now, he’s passed the bar, and all he can think about is you.

About your score.

But who is he kidding when he says that? It’s you. It’s all about you.

He rubs his chin with his hand, and he stares at your contact. The photo isn’t one you’ve ever described as flattering, but you wouldn’t even know about it if he hadn’t gotten caught taking it. You’re bent over a book, your eyes are focused on the pages, and a pen is trapped in your teeth, your leg a blur as it bounces. And you’re – you’re in his sweatshirt, and the couch is made up for you, and…

“God, I gotta call her.”

It comes out like a revelation, and he presses your name, presses call, holds the phone up to his ear. He finds himself standing up, too, and while the phone rings he’s pushing towards the elevator.

“Where the hell are you goin’?” Amanda calls out, but he waves her off, as your phone keeps ringing.

“I’m taking lunch.”

The shouted reply is incredulous, but he ignores the tone. “It’s nine in the morning!”

There’s a few more rings, and then he hears your voice. Practiced, poised, your voicemail message rattling off instructions that he doesn’t need. But he savors the sound, right up until the beep.

“Uh. Hey. It’s… Sonny.”

So much for not needing instructions.

“Look, I – I know our results came out today, and. And I know that your news is as good as mine, because you’re a fucking genius, so. I’m heading to that shop, where we met, and. I wanna meet you there. I’ll be there for half an hour, and if I see you, and I hope I do, I hope you’ll let me buy you a coffee.”

He clears his throat, swallows.

“And if I don’t see you, I’ll get the message. But. I really want to see you. Okay. Right. Uh. Bye.”

He hangs up with a little bit of a gasp of air, shaking his head as the elevator doors open on the ground floor. And then he’s rushing, practically running, out of the precinct to hail a taxi.

He gets dropped up on at the entrance of Gray Dog Coffee Roasters trying not to think about the fact that his heart is lodged in his throat. He takes a seat at one of the outside tables, clearly visible from both sides. And he waits, he waits, he desperately waits to see you walking around a corner.

Fifteen minutes pass, It’s the worst fifteen minutes of his life, but they come and go, and no matter how much his leg bounces time isn’t under his control.

And then he sees you.

You’re walking slowly, and when Sonny stands it seems to startle you. You pause, but only for a moment, and then you’re pushing forward, hands shoved into the pocket of your jacket. You’re uncertain, he can tell that much, but you smile at him and it makes the sun on that July day all that much brighter.

“Hey,” he calls out to you.

“Hey,” you return, and he can’t help his grin.

“Wanna… get some coffee? For two new lawyers?”

And when your gaze dips from his, he catches the smile you’re hiding. “Yeah, Sonny. For two new lawyers.”

-

The two of you end up back at the table he was sitting at. It really is a beautiful sunny day, but your hands are cupping a mug of coffee that’s steaming in the New York heat.

“It’s two sugars, right?” he asks you, as if he hasn’t prepped coffee for you for months, and you nod as the two of you settle, the world of New York around you and just as busy as ever.

“So. You just wanted to buy me a coffee?” you ask him, brow furrowed, and he watches as one of your hands lifts from your mug to play with your earring. He’s numbered all your tics, the things that make you tick, and he matches your nervous fingers with his own, tapping on the table.

“And talk. If that’s okay.”

You know why the two of you need to talk. Sonny knows you know. But you still look at him with a chuckle. Shrugging. “About what, Sonny?”

“About us.”

Your eyes lock onto his. You seem to swallow, tight.

“Us.”

“Yeah, us.”

You don’t seem too convinced of that word, and Sonny thinks that’s on him. He never made the final leap, never just... asked. Assumed. But he’s not gonna make that mistake again. He can’t afford it. He has your attention, and he’s not letting it go. “Look, you left, okay? You left, and didn’t look back, and I just wanna know what I can do to fix it. I miss you, and if it was something I said or did  –”

Suddenly your hand lifts, and he cuts himself off at the gesture.

“It’s... god, it’s not you.”

It comes out suddenly, so matter-of-fact, and Sonny blinks at you. You seem resigned, almost embarrassed, and he watches you fiddle with your earring again before holding your mug tight.

And it’s a relief, but. Now Sonny’s just confused. “It’s not?”

“No, Sonny. It’s not.”

There’s not much to say to that, frankly because Sonny’s speechless. So he doesn’t say anything, just leans back in his chair, lifts up his own coffee for a sip as he watches you. Waits.

And he does wait. You seem to be formulating something in your mind, something that makes your nails tap against the mug.

“Us?” you ask again.

“Yeah.” It’s that simple to Sonny. “Is that... is that bad?”

“No! No, no, I just thought... fuck, I – I got scared,” you admit. Your coffee is surely scalding your hands, as you clutch the ceramic, and he watches as your eyes break from his to watch the cars roar by. It’s cute. It’s more than cute, and he tries not to smile because he knows you’re biting your lower lip like that only because you’re so nervous you can hardly speak. “I thought – I knew – that you’d get sick of me, eventually, and… and you’d pass the bar, and that’d be that, right?”

That’d be that? Now Sonny’s agape, his own brow furrowed as you look at him once more. “But why?” Sonny pushes. He reaches out to you, hand up and open on the table you sit at. “Was it something I said, or did?”

“No, it was. It was me. My head. I was certain that… all the niceness would end, that the bar would be the end of it. I’ve had… bad partners before, and bad experiences with things like… kindness. And once I convinced myself that you couldn’t be different, and realized that I liked you so damn much…”

“You like me?” he blurts out, and your mouth falls open into a laugh, despite yourself.

“Sonny, I’ve worn a piece of clothing from every part of your closet, except, thankfully, your underwear. I’ve slept on your couch more than I’ve slept in my own bed. I – I desperately like you. And I like us, but I didn’t want to –”

“Assume.”

Sonny Carisi sits there. He blushes, bright and red, and he tries not to feel the way it spreads to his neck, too. And he watches as you laugh a little more, lifting your mug to suck down all the coffee you can.

“Okay,” he gets out slowly. “Well. I… I like you, too. Desperately.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that now. Thankfully.”

And when he grins, you can finally match it, the two of you staring at each other over hot cups of coffee on a warm July day. The news rolls over the two of you, bulldozes Sonny, and he’s grinning so wide that he’s sure he looks dumb as hell. Head over heels.

“You are different. Than other guys. Other partners.” you finally settle on. “You are, Sonny. I’m… sorry I did that to you, and I’m sorry for everything, really.”

“Don’t be,” he says, easily. Like it’s nothing. It rolls off of his tongue, and you grin at him, big and bright. “And – and I insist on getting you another coffee.”

Your hand lifts to cover your laugh. “And why’s that?”

“Because we’re not done talking about this, sweetheart. And it’ll take at least another cup for you to walk me back to the precinct so we can talk about what our next date’s gonna be.”

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

until we dream of life and life becomes a dream

hello! i know it’s been a while but i’m back with my next fill for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​

a little yennefer & ciri fluff with some pre-relationship yennskier as well as a treat (set early on in this verse)

Prompt: Soothing their fear

Relationships: Yennefer & Ciri, minor Yennefer/Jaskier

Rating: T

CW: mention of nightmares

Summary:  Ciri may have calmed down enough to sleep, but Yennefer cannot seem to. There is something  humming beneath her skin. She had pushed aside her fear to help Ciri but now it has come flooding back along with the thoughts that make her wonder if she is cut out for this, if she is doing any good.Or if, despite everything, all she is doing is making things worse.

until we dream of life and life becomes a dream

She is sitting on the sofa, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram when she hears the shout. She startles and drops her phone beside her, before rushing up the stairs.

Ciri has been with her for almost two months now, and although they don’t happen as frequently, she is still woken by nightmares often and Yennefer’s heart still drops every time, knowing that Ciri is hurting.

Anxiety washes through her as she makes her way towards Ciri’s room, wondering if this will be the time where she puts a foot wrong, says something or does something that will mean losing Ciri, wondering if this will be the moment the girl realises she doesn’t want to be here anymore, that she wants to live with someone else. Someone who is a natural parent, who is easily affectionate, who knows what to do, who finds it all easy.

Someone not like her.

She pushes those thoughts aside as she makes her way into the room. It is filled with the warm light of her nightlight which they had bought so that if the girl woke up in the night, she would not wake up in darkness, they hoped that the light would be comforting.

But right now, it does not seem to be comforting at all.

The gentleness of the golden light filling the room is in stark contrast to the girl tossing and turning in the bed, whimpers and shouts falling from her mouth.

Yennefer sits on the bed next to Ciri, and carefully reaches out to place her hand on Ciri’s forehead. Often Ciri’s nightmares can be violent and leave her waking up with a swinging arm, and Yennefer has learnt the hard way that sometimes she has to try and wake Ciri carefully from a distance. But thankfully, tonight seems to be one of the calmer nights so she take the opportunity to be closer.

“Ciri,” she says, quietly but loud enough that it will hopefully penetrate the chaos in the girls mind. “Ciri, it’s ok. It’s just a nightmare, but you need to wake up.”

It takes a few minutes for Ciri to wake up, but it feels like hours as she sits there and strokes her hand through the long, blonde hair, waiting for the cries to stop, being able to do nothing but murmur comforts to her, until she wakes up.

Ciri’s eyes fly open as she wakes with a gasp, and Yennefers heart breaks as she watches the girl sits up and frantically search the room for the family she knows she saw in her mind only moments ago.

“Hey, its ok. You’re alright, it was just a bad dream. It’s ok,” she soothes. She doesn’t bother to say it was just a dream or it wasn’t real because they both know that everything Ciri is seeing was real, and her nightmares are just twisted version of her memories.

Ciri seems to come back to herself, her blue eyes clearing as they settle on Yennefer.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” she sniffs, wiping the sleeve of her pyjama top across her nose, voice still thick with tears.

“I wasn’t even asleep yet,” Yen replies. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sometimes after a nightmare, Ciri wants to talk about it, or wants to talk about her family, telling Yennefer stories about funny things her grandparents, or the few things she can remember about her parents. Sometimes they look through photos, replacing the images of her family Ciri saw in her dream with the smiling faces that look back at her from the pages.

Ciri shakes her head, before asking in a small voice. “Could I – could I maybe have a hug?”

“Of course you can. You can always have a hug,” Yennefer says, before enveloping the girl in her arms. Normally, during the day Ciri is free with her affection and will come bounding up to hug Yennefer whenever she feels like it, but here in the aftermath of a nightmare, she becomes shy and tentative with it.

Yennefer doesn’t say anything as she feels her jumper grow damp with tears, just rubs soothing circles onto Ciri’s back as she cries quietly into Yennefer’s chest.

After a while, as Ciri’s tears lessen Yennefer asks “Do you want to go downstairs? Watch some TV with a hot chocolate? Or do you just want to go back to sleep?”

Sometimes, Ciri finds it hard to go back to sleep after she wakes from a nightmare, so they spend the night wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, watching some nonsense on TV until eventually Ciri will slump against her shoulder and she will carry her back up to bed. And Yennefer is sure that there are people that would say that giving a child hot chocolate in the middle of the night was a bad idea, but it never fails to put a smile on Ciri’s face, so frankly all those people can fuck off.

“I think just sleep, if that’s okay?” Ciri says.

“That’s fine. I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Yennefer says as she tucks the blanket up around Ciri.

Ciri’s eyes eventually slip shut and her breathing deepens, and Yennefer sits next to her stroking her hair until she is snoring softly. Then she makes her way out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her and leaning against the door and takes a deep breath. Ciri may have calmed down enough to sleep, but Yennefer cannot seem to.

There is something  humming beneath her skin. She had pushed aside her fear to help Ciri but now it has come flooding back along with the thoughts that make her wonder if she is cut out for this, if she is doing any good.

Or if, despite everything, all she is doing is making things worse.

She makes her way to the kitchen, pours herself a glass of wine and sits on the sofa. She picks up her phone from where she had abandoned it before running up the stairs to check on Ciri. There is a new message, and she unlocks her phone to see it is from Jaskier.

Jaskier: I swear if I get one more email from a parent telling me to cast their child as the lead I’m just going to play all the parts myself

She smirks and types out a reply

You’re up late

I could say the same about you

 Ciri had a nightmare.

Is she ok?

She’s asleep.

That’s good.

Are you okay?

She goes to type I’m fine but she hesitates, and she’s not enitirely sure why. Maybe it’s because she isn’t fine, not really, she still feels nervous and . But it’s not like she is going to tell Jaskier that, she barely knows him, but yet she still hesitates. It would be so easy, to type out the lie and move on but she can’t quite bring herself to do it. Maybe it’s because she thinks he might understand. Because they are more similar than she will ever admit. That he knows that it is hard to be kind sometimes, when you learnt that being selfish was the only way to get what you wanted.

No-one else would understand.

Not Triss, who only knows kindness, wouldn’t get it. Triss who is kind without hesitation or thought and doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body. Triss who finds showing kindess as easy as breathing, Triss who always seems to know the right thing to say to make feel better, who seems to just understand how someone is feeling, without them having to say anything at all.

Not Renfri, who sees no point in being kind. Kindness has no place in Renfri’s world, she sees no sense in showing kindness in a world that has been nothing but cruel to her. Being kind holds no use for her and so she simply isn’t. Honestly, Yennefer can’t blame her for it. Renfri cares about people in her own way, and Yennefer knows that the other woman cares for her, but she wouldn’t go so far as to describe her as kind.

She certainly can’t talk to Tissaia about it. Although the woman is legally her mother,she always felt that Tissaia cared more about the idea of her than about her. She cared but she wasn’t affectionate or kind, she was strict and honest which Yennefer did respect at the time and no doubt needed,  but it doesn’t put the woman at top of her list for those she goes to for emotional advice.

Not that there are many people on that list.

And somehow, Jaskier seems to have made his way on to it.

Later she will blame it on the wine, but she accepts the call.

“Well hello there Yennefer what a pleasant surprise this is!” he cheers, sounding far too alert for this early in the morning.

“You’re the one that rang me,” she points out.

“I know, but I wasn’t actually expecting you to pick up,” he replies, and something flashes through her, a feeling she can’t quite name. Before she can think about it anymore, he asks “So are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay. Because it’s alright if you’re not, you know. It must be tough, looking after a child all by yourself.”

“And what would you know about it?”

She doesn’t know much about his relationship with his parents, aside from the odd comment from Renfri, and given how the man has a tendency to say every incessant  thought that comes into head out loud, and the fact that he hasn’t said anything about his parents, tells her everything she needs to know about the relationship he has with his parents.

“Do you get weekly phonecalls from the poor mothers of all the bastards you’ve left behind all over the place begging you to come back and help them raise your spawn?”

“No, I’ll have you know that I am always incredibly careful about things like that and there are no little Julians running about the place,” he says.

“Thank the gods,”

“Anyway—” he continues, as though she hadn’t said anything “--what I was trying to say was that any sane person would find it hard to raise a child alone, and it’s only natural if you’re scared.”

“I am not scared,” she says bitingly, but she knows a little too quickly for it to be true.

“Well good for you then but still, I think it’s fine if you are. From what I’ve heard, almost all parents worry about something. I don’t think being scared makes you weak, and in all honesty I think it makes you a better parent. If you’re scared of making a mistake, then you’re less likely to make one.”

“And if I do make a mistake?”

“I’m sure you’d be able to figure out a way to fix it,” he says.

There is a moment of quiet, a moment where Yennefer can end the call and stop herself before she says something incriminating, before she reveals a part of herself that she can’t take back. She is used to doing things alone, she can figure this out by herself.

Or, she could let him in.

She could tell him, tell him about how terrified she is by the prospect of being a parent, knowing that she wants to do it so well, to give Ciri the chances she never had, but she is so scared of doing it wrong. Ciri is depending on her, so she has to do it right.

Otherwise she risks ruining everything.

Again, she isn’t sure why she feels the need to say it to Jaskier of all people, but she needs to tell someone about the thoughts running through her head before the voices become too loud and she’ll be unable to hear anything else, before the doubts that are swirling around her become too much and she starts drowning.

She just has to take the leap.

This is for more than just her, this is for Ciri, and she deserves better than Yennefer trying to muddle through it on her own.

So she leaps.

“It’s just – she – she’s so vulnerable. She’s seen so much and been through so much, and she’s hurting and I just want to help but I can’t help but wonder that I’m making it all worse,” she admits. “I have no clue what I’m doing. I never know what to say and I’m worried that everything I do say is wrong. Everyone else makes it look so easy, and I feel like I’m barely staying afloat.”

“Welcome to being a parent. I’m pretty sure everyone feels the same. Everyone is just like a duck, looking all calm and then paddling like hell underneath,” he replies flippantly.

She can feel her anger rising. He doesn’t get it, of course he doesn’t, and she is tempted to just hang up. But now the gates are opened, and the words keep coming.

“But I’m not like every other parent, and Ciri isn’t like every other child. This is different, so I have to be different and I have to do it right,” she barks. “I cannot let her down.”

“In what way are you letting her down? You took her in, you gave her a home. You hold her, you make her laugh, you let her cry, you sit with her when she has nightmares. You care about her. You are there for her when she needs you to be. You’re trying. You’re making the effort. Isn’t that all you can do?”

“Is it that simple? Isn’t there anything more? More than just trying?”

“Maybe, but it’s a lot more than some people seem able to manage,” he says quietly, voice pained and she has no doubt he is speaking from experience. “I think that right now all she needs is time. She needs someone steady, someone who will be there, an anchor to help ground her when the seas get too rough, and somewhere to land when the chaos subsides.”

She sighs. He’s right. Or at least he sounds right enough to have calmed her worries, at least for tonight.  That it will just take time, and that it will be all be alright in the end. And if it’s not, then she’ll figure something out. He’s right, and she thinks that even when she sleeps on it, he will likely still be right tomorrow.

Not that she will tell him that.

“You’re mixing your metaphors.”

“Well it’s 2 o’clock in the morning so excuse me if my poetry isn’t perfect,” he argues.

“Why are you up so late anyway?”

“Ah well, you know us tortured artist types darling, no stranger to a sleepless night,” he says easily, but there is something else in his voice. He sounds tired, more tired than she has ever heard him before and she’s sure there is more to it, but she doesn’t ask. She probably could, she has shown him a vulnerable side of herself and knows that he would probably show the same in return, if she asked.

But she doesn’t.

For as open as he is, for as much as he talks, there are many things that Jaskier doesn’t say, there are things he keeps hidden away. There is a lot that he hasn’t chosen to share with her yet, but she is happy wait. He has wormed his way  into their lives, but she finds that she doesn’t mind. He intrigues her, he is loud and cheerful and annoying, a seemingly simple person, but she knows that there is more beneath the surface, more to him that meets the eye.

And surprisingly, she finds that she is ready to wait He is intrigues her, in a way that no-one has in a long time and she can be patient. He doesn’t seem to be going anywhere soon, so she has time to figure him out.

Until then, she can keep teasing him.  

“You’re a primary school teacher who plays a silly little guitar, you’re hardly a tortured artist.”

“It is a ukulele, how many times do I have to tell you? And art comes in all forms, Yennefer, don’t be such a snob.”

“It’s not being a snob if you are genuinely terrible,” she retorts.

He makes an undignified noise on the other end of the phone. “How dare you, I’ll have you know I am an excellent ukeleleist! And I am also proficient at playing many other instruments.”

“’Ukeleleist’? I’m pretty sure that isn’t a thing.”

“Oh shut up! It’s 2am, it’s allowed to be a thing,” he grumbles.

A sense of quiet lulls over them, and suddenly Yennefer has to bite back a yawn.  All her fear and anxiety has left her now, leaving only tiredness behind. She can hear him tapping the keys of his laptop, probably working on his next song.

“Jaskier?” she asks, her eyes now growing heavy.

The tapping pauses. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For tonight, for this. I needed to hear that,” she says.

“Anytime,” he replies earnestly.

They say their goodbyes, and she makes her way up to her own bed. But before she does, she stops at Ciri’s room and peers in at the girl, who is sleeping softly, mouth open slightly as she drools on the pillow, far more peaceful than she was earlier.

It hasn’t been easy for either of them so far, life changing so suddenly for both of them, but they’ll figure it out. There will no doubt be mistakes, and people will get hurt, but she cares for this girl, more than she has cared about anything else before, and so she will make it work.

And it will be easier, because she knows she doesn’t have to do it on her own.

[tf2-hellhole]

Grim af but I kinda like angst- okay so the either rsepawner stoped working and the mercs had to watch their s/o die or they some how got into the crossfire and died

Bless your soul homie, I love writing fluff but I’ve been itching to write some angst-

I imagined that the S/O was exploring the battleground but didn’t know that a match was about to start. They’re killed about a third of the way into the match but their merc finds their body near the end

Warning: Death, emotional trauma, alcoholism, etc

Scout:

At first, another teammate told him his S/O was on the battlefield but doesn’t know they’re dead yet. He spends several minutes running around trying to find them. He doesn’t try to attack any enemies or cap the objective and is sent through respawn several times.

But after a little while, he finds them. He doesn’t realize they’re dead and tries to bring them a health pack, believing they’ve only passed out. It’s only when he grabs their wrist that he realizes there’s no pulse.

When it hits him, he just freezes. He just stares down at them and tears form in his eyes. He stays there with their body until another BLU comes along and takes the free kill. He spends the rest of the match in the back of the spawn room crying quietly and shaking violently. No one even notices him there until the end of the match.

When the rest of the team finds out, Spy and Sniper (who is heavily implied to be Scout’s good friend) sit with him while their body is retrieved. He doesn’t say a word the whole time.

But the moment he gets back to his room, he has an absolute meltdown. It lasts a very long time and he breaks a lot of his stuff. The other mercs can hear him and all feel horrible. Spy has to leave because he doesn’t want the others to see that he’s on the verge of tears for his son.

Heavy has to come in and stop Scout before he accidentally hurts himself. As soon as he’s in his arms, he stops thrashing and just sobs. He stays in a depressive state for several weeks after this.

He’s a lot quieter afterward. He eventually gets his cocky personality back several years later, but he’s nowhere near as loud or confident as before. He never truly recovers and doesn’t try dating again for a long time.

Soldier:

Soldier, like Scout, doesn’t realize his S/O is dead and tries to shake them awake. But the moment he realizes his S/O is dead, he flies into a violent rage.

He thoughtlessly attacks the BLU team. He doesn’t consider the objective and just attacks the BLUs. He’s so reckless that he just dies several times and barely gets any kills. His team loses the match because of him.

After the match, Soldier brings their body to the med bay himself. He demands Medic make them come back. When Medic tells him there’s nothing he can do (this is before he had the funding to learn to revive someone) he attacks him, saying that he’s lying. The others have to subdue him before he kills someone while respawn is off

After he’s calmed, he spends several weeks just replaying the moment he realized they were dead in his mind. How could this happen? He was supposed to protect them! He was supposed to protect them and he failed… He never gets over that thought.

He pays for most of his S/O’s funeral to make sure it’s beautiful, because they deserve it

Over several years he eventually heals and turns back into the normal Soldier, but for the rest of his life he always carries a photo of his S/O everywhere and dedicates every match RED wins to them.

Pyro:

Pyro’s entire world quickly turns grey and dark when they find the body of their S/O. They drag their S/O’s body to a safe place and hold them to their body, just sobbing quietly into their mask. But after a few moments, they’re filled with fury and go on a rampage similar to Soldier’s. They charge directly into enemy fire, only caring about taking revenge for his S/O. But unlike Soldier, theirs is slightly more calculated and results in RED winning a match they almost lost.

After the battle, Pyro won’t leave the body alone. They pick up their S/O and carry them back to the base bridal style, shaking and sobbing the whole time. They take the body to the med bay and just sit there crying into their arms. They’re there for several hours and would’ve sat there for days is Engie didn’t lead them away

For a couple of weeks, Pyro refuses to participate in combat, leading to many additional losses for the RED team. All they do is sit around and don’t have the motivation to do anything for a while, though they eventually return to work after the other mercenaries encourage them to.

For a very long time, Pyro’s world is lifeless and dull and nothing can fix it. They just feel horrible and live in despair for a long while. They spend most of their days sitting outside or in their room in the base, completely silent. Over a few years they heal, but their world turns grey and sad much more often than before. Some days they feel really guilty about not being there to protect their S/O, and they feel so horrible about it that even flames can’t lighten their mood.

Demo:

Demo is in absolute shock upon finding their body, but his first instinct is to pick up their S/O and run to Medic, desperately begging for him to do something. When the medigun doesn’t do anything, Medic and Demo instantly know that it means they’re gone, and Demo goes completely silent.

Demo carries his S/O to a safe spot for the rest of the match to just hold them against him and ask them to please, please wake up. His life was hell before he met them, what is he gonna do without them? They can’t leave him, not now, it’s not fair! They had so much ahead of them!

His mental state goes downhill after this. His S/O had practically kept him sane; They encouraged him to cut back on drinking, comforted him after his mother would insult him over the phone, and complimented him after every RED win. He spirals back into a state of thinking about all of his regrets and insecurities and drowning them in alcohol, then repeating the process in the morning.

He falls into a severe depression and just falls apart. The only things he has the motivation to do are go to the kitchen to grab all the alcohol he can find, take it back to his room, drink it all, and spend the rest of the day sleeping. He eventually has to be moved to the med bay to be cared for by Medic due to his refusal to eat. He’s in this state for a very long time and it’ll be months before his team sees him on the battlefield again.

Demo never really recovers. He starts to eat again after a while and becomes depressed less often over time. But he will often drink a lot more when his S/O is on his mind and never seeks another partner. Sometimes alcohol can’t make the image of them in his head go away and he just sits in silence, tears running down his face, trying to clear the image from his mind. It hurts him so much.

Heavy:

When another teammate tells him his S/O is on the battlefield, he absolutely panics. He can’t let anything happen to them. He immediately turns to Medic and tells him to pocket him and help him find his S/O. They spend a little while running around and trying to find them, and after a few minutes find the enemy Soldier standing over their body.

Heavy immediately revs up his gun and mows down every enemy in sight to get them away from his S/O, starting with the Soldier. Once he’s done he drops his gun and rushes to their side with Medic, desperately hoping they’re still breathing. You can practically hear his heart shatter when he realizes they aren’t.

You’d expect him to get angry and use the rest of the match to get his revenge, but not yet. He runs back to base with his S/O in his arms and spends the rest of the match holding their body and whispering to them in Russian. He refuses to let them go for several hours after the match.

The next match is when he gets his revenge on the BLU Soldier. He gets the other mercs to help him kidnap the Soldier, and tortures him for a while before sending him back to respawn.

Heavy is allowed to leave work for a little while and goes to his family for a few months. He isn’t depressed while he’s with them, he helps them around the house, but he spends a lot more time alone and reads for hours and hours to get the image of his S/O’s body out of his head. It isn’t until a few weeks after his S/O is killed that he breaks down in his bedroom. He doesn’t scream or sob, he just sits at his desk with his head in his hands with tears running down his face for hours.

Engineer:

When Engineer was told that his S/O was on the battlefield, he went pale. He was terrified because he knows he’s not the best fighter and he can’t run out there and get them. He just has to stay focused on supporting his team and hope Scout or Soldier finds them.

It isn’t until RED had already won the match that one of his teammates brings the body to him. He lets out a pained cry and runs over to take his S/O into his arms. He asks in a shaky voice who killed them, but none of the mercs know.

Engineer just throws himself into his work for months. He gets up in the morning and goes to his workshop, only leaving for things like showering and eating, though he does these things rarely, and goes to sleep at around 2 AM. He’s extremely quiet now and rarely interacts with the other mercenaries, usually only speaking to them when he has to. He doesn’t work for the first couple of battles after his S/O’s death but after a few weeks he joins his coworkers. He does his job as efficiently as before but he rarely speaks and is still very, very distant. He’s even distant to the merc closest to him, Pyro.

Over a long while, probably a few years, he heals. He gets back his extroverted and kind personality but he’s a little quieter than before. He won’t ever seek another partner.

He makes sure to visit his S/O’s grave regularly and tell them how he’s been doing. He always makes sure to leave them fresh flowers, and he makes sure their grave is kept pristine even after he’s gone.

Medic:

Medic is pocketing Heavy and is about to pop Uber when Heavy yells, “Doctor, look!”. He turns to see where his friend is looking and lets out a surprised cry when he sees his S/O’s body. He immediately abandons Heavy and runs to them.

He drops down in front of them and immediately checks their pulse. For a moment after he realizes there is no pulse, all he can do is squeeze his eyes shut and bow his head over their body. But he quickly grabs his minigun and runs back to Heavy. He pockets him and growls at him to push forward, since his Uber is ready. They go in and he gets his revenge as all of BLU is mowed down in seconds. He’s not satisfied but he can’t do much else

Like Scout, he has a complete meltdown in his lab after the match. He destroys tons of equipment and attempts to destroy his medigun. In his mind, if it couldn’t save his liebling, then what point does it have? But luckily, the other mercs stop him before he damages it too much.

Once he’s calmed, he focuses every waking moment on trying to bring his S/O back. This is before the comics, and at this point he does not have enough funding to invent a way to revive them. He spends months trying to work out a way to bring them back.

During this time, he is very aggressive towards his teammates. He doesn’t attack them, but he yells for them to get out the moment they enter the lab. The only person allowed in his Heavy, but even he can’t be in there for more than ten minutes before Medic is growling at him to leave too. The team actually has to hire a real doctor to look after the mercs while he’s in this state. He still participates in battles though, he just doesn’t take care of their general health.

Sniper:

Sniper is the only one to actually watch his S/O fall. He was forced to watch through his scope as the enemy Spy put a bullet in their head before he could get a clear shot. The moment he’s killed the Spy, he’s running from his nest to his S/O

He scoops up the body before more BLUs show up and drag them back. He wants to bring them a health pack or yell for Medic, but he knows they wouldn’t be able to do anything. For a while, he just sits there holding them and shaking. But after a short while, Medic comes nearby and notices Sniper.

Once Medic is beside him, something snaps in Sniper. He tells Medic to take care of his S/O and he runs back to his nest. He proceeds to perform better than ever before, landing every single shot. He’s always waiting for the enemy Spy and never fails to blow his head off every single time he uncloaks.

At some point during the match, the Spy tries to get rid of Sniper. Before he can backstab him though, Sniper spins around and pins him down with his kukri to his throat. He uses his weapons to make the Spy pay for what he did before killing him.

After the battle, he becomes extremely distant. He goes to his camper and stays there for days, never leaving, not even to eat. He just lays in his bed, his face buried in his pillow, replaying what he saw in his head.

He turns to drinking to make the moment leave his mind. He had already been through so much in his life, this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He becomes an alcoholic very quickly and just spends his free time drinking in his camper. His performance suffers drastically in battle and the REDs have several losses before the other mercs make him go through rehab before this becomes a permanent habit. He relapses several times but eventually recovers.

Out of all the mercs, he recovers the least. He permanently becomes more distant to the other mercenaries because he’s terrified of losing people he becomes attached to. He becomes much more introverted and often takes trips out into the wilderness for weeks.

Spy:

Spy happened upon his S/O’s body while he was cloaked, trying to sneak into the enemy base. When he noticed them, he threw himself around a corner and covered his mouth to stifle the surprised cry that came from it. There were several BLUs nearby, trying to push forward. He had to wait for several minutes crammed into a corner until the BLU pushed forward before he could go to his S/O.

The moment he was able to, he ran over to the body and picked them up, his voice breaking as he mumbled in French to them. He ran to safety and threatened Medic to make him bring them back somehow. He almost attacked him when he said he couldn’t. When he finally accepted that his S/O was gone, he slumped against the wall, holding them close and apologized over and over in French.

(Part of this point is based on another headcanon, though idk who's because I read it before I made this account.) After the battle though, he was very composed. He stayed with the body for several hours, just holding their hand and speaking softly, but he didn’t cry or sob. It was when he went to his smoking room that he lost it. He yelled in anger and shattered several bottles of alcohol. It was short and was over as quickly as it started. When he’s done, he stalks over to his chair and chainsmokes late into the night. Over the next few months, he has several short meltdowns in private.

He absolutely hates sleeping now. He just lies there and stares at the empty space in the bed where his S/O used to sleep. He remembers them snuggling up against him and smiling up at him before cupping his cheek in their hand. He often falls asleep crying.

Like Sniper, he tries to stay away from others a lot more after that, because he couldn’t bear to have another heartbreak like that. His ability to trust is also severely ruined. He never finds another partner.

[mistymazzello]

Illicit Affairs | part two

Joe Mazzello x Reader

summary-Y/N, a failing actress in New York City, is offered an internship as Joe Mazzello’s assistant on the set of a movie. Her seemingly small crush on her boss could get her into trouble, but what does she have to lose?

word count- 2.3k

warnings- cussing

part one

based on illicit affairs by taylor swift

There was still one week left until shooting started, and you spent everyday at the office preparing. Filing papers, making phone calls, running around so that Joe could stay sane. On a particularly windy morning, the August heat still relentless, you jogged into the office building, three coffees in hand. 

You smiled a good morning at one of the writers as you passed, stepping out of the elevator. Hair covered half of your face from the harsh wind as you walked towards Joe’s office. You pushed it out of your face with your free hand as your heels lightly clicked against the tile floor. 

You gave one of the coffee’s to Julia, the producer who you had met on your first day. “Thank you, my love.” She blew you a kiss. You had recently learned she was 63, and had been producing movies since the 70s. She’s also one of the coolest people you’ve ever met.

The second coffee went to the head writer, who looked as if he’d been there all night. He seemed especially thankful for it.

“You’re late.” Beck said, catching up to walk beside you.

With furrowed eyebrows, you checked your watch. “I’m 3 minutes early?”

“Okay well, I’ve been here for 15 minutes. If you’re not 5 minutes early, you’re late.” He huffed. 

Doing nothing but shaking your head to avoid from telling Beck to fuck off, you arrived at Joe’s door.

“Who’s that coffee for?” Beck questioned sternly.

You finally stood still, turning towards Beck. “Joe.”

He looked mad. “How’d you know his coffee order?”

You raised your eyebrows. “I asked him.” 

He scoffed. Opening the door, you stepped inside, once again adjusting your hair that had been tangled by the wind.

“Mornin’ boss.” You said, walking over to Joe’s desk to set the coffee down.

“Hey kid.” He smiled. “Morning Mr. Beck.”

“Good morning Mr. Mazzello.” Beck straightened his posture. 

After some friendly conversation, Joe explained that he had a meeting with all of the costume and makeup people for the movie. “I need one of you to come with me to hand stuff out and keep track of things for me.”

“”I will.” Beck volunteered before you could even think to say anything.

“Ah Beck, ever eager.” Joe sighed.

He turned to you. “Then you, I’ll just need you to answer some emails for me. Just get to whatever ones you can get to.” He said.

“Okay.” You smiled as he and Beck headed towards the door.

“You’re a peach.” He winked before leaving.

You couldn’t help but smile smally, your cheeks pink as you crossed to the other side of the desk to sit at his desk where his laptop was. You read and responded to emails for a while, your chin set in your hand. 

Something you loved about this job was that no matter how boring or mundane a task was, you always found it enthralling. You got to answer the emails of a Hollywood director, who everyone seemed to be trying to get in contact with. When you print off papers for 20 minutes, it’s exciting because you’re printing off new pages of a script that hardly anyone has read yet. Being an intern was fun, but being Joe’s intern was incredible.

You didn’t think there was a single person in this office who didn’t find Joe handsome and charming and funny, so you tried not to fret when you had these feelings all of the time. 

Joe thought you were adorable. Amazingly pretty, sweet, sarcastic. He assumed the same that you assumed about him, that he shouldn’t worry that he thinks this because he was sure that everyone else did too.

Joe and Beck came back into the office, chatting about something that had to do with the casting director. You finished up the email you’d been writing and stood up from Joe’s seat.

“I hope you didn’t go snooping around in my computer.” He joked.

“Nope, just read all of your personal emails from your family and dug through your photos. You now, normal intern stuff.” You smiled.

Joe cackled. “Nothing I wouldn’t expect from you.”

The rest of the day was similar to that morning, the whole day packed with meetings. Beck had to leave to deliver some papers (you thought it was the refined script) to someone across town, because apparently they were too top secret to be sent by email.

As you were typing out a schedule for hair and makeup, Joe poked his head in the office. 

“Hey, kid?” He asked softly.

“Hm?” You looked up.

“Would you mind coming to this meeting with me? You won’t have to do much, I just want someone to go with me.” He said.

“Oh, yeah sure.” You shut your laptop and stood up to follow him. 

“Why do you want someone to come with you?” You asked quietly as the two of you walked down the hallway. 

Joe stopped outside of the conference room. “Because I fucking hate this guy.”

You laughed lightly.

“Pretend I never said that.” He followed up.

You pretended to zip and lock your lips. He laughed, shaking his head.

The meeting was rather boring, but you understood why Joe hated this guy. He was loud and rude and screamed snobby rich dude. Joe gave you a couple of “I’m so sorry.” glances throughout, but you just gave him some sympathetic smiles back, because you weren’t the one who had to talk to him.

Still, Joe hadn’t mentioned anything about the subway. You were relieved to say the least, hoping that he had forgotten about it. You assumed that if he knew it was you, he would���ve said something over the last 3 weeks.

It was getting dark out by the time Joe said that you and Beck could leave. As you began to step out of his office, offering him a “Bye, Joe.”, he stopped you. Beck had already walked out, and you tilted your head as you stepped back into his office.

“God, I feel like such an old person asking this, but can you help me with something on my computer? I can’t figure out how to download this video that marketing wants me to watch.” He sighed.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You smiled.

“You're a lifesaver.” He said, rolling his chair back so you could lean over his computer.

It took a matter of seconds for you to figure it out, explaining it to him as you went. 

“Oh, well now I just feel stupid.” He sulked.

You giggled. “It’s okay. Do you know how many times a day I feel stupid around you? I had no idea what you guys were talking about in that meeting today.” You turned around to lean your thighs against his desk and face him. 

He leaned back in his chair. “I never know what that fucking guy is talking about.” He sighed. It was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable. He’s just a dick, and I have to listen to him.”

You nodded. “It’s okay. I have a feeling I’m going to have to deal with a lot more guys like him if I’m going to be a part of this industry. It’s best if I practice not telling him to go fuck himself now.”

Joe tipped his head back and laughed. “God, you have the best attitude.” He smiled.

It was quiet again as the two of you smiled, looking at the ground. The room that was usually lit up by the sun outside was now lit up by a single lamp on the desk, along with the city lights through the floor to ceiling windows on the far wall.

Joe looked up at you, the orange glow from the lamp casting a light over your face as you looked at the ground. 

He sighed, then sat up straight in his chair. “Okay, well, I’ll let you go home now. I have a ton of shit to do and you’re probably dead tired.”

“Well do you need help with anything?” You asked immediately.

“No, no. It’s nothing really business related and again, you’re probably dead tired.” He shook his head.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind. My whole job is to make sure you’re not overwhelmed.” you said.

He breathed out and bit his inner cheek. “Well, if you really want to, I have a few errands I have to run, so if you wanted to pick up my dry cleaning and bring it to my apartment, it would save me like an hour.”

“Yeah, I could totally do that.” You shrugged.

“You’re literally an angel, Y/N.” He eulogized. He dug into his bag and pulled out a key. “This is my spare. When you drop off the clothes, just set it on the table. And don’t rob my house.”

“Aw, I can’t even look for a safe?” 

Within 15 minutes, you were picking up Joe’s dry cleaning. The city was in full swing as you took a taxi across town, the lights outshining the moon by a mile. You unlocked Joe’s door and stepped inside, the apartment pitch black as you searched for a light switch, overwhelmed by the scent Joe carried with him at all times. Musky and expensive, but at the same time incredibly comforting. The exact scent of the jacket he had given you. You turned the lights on and walked further into the apartment, looking around. There were papers scattered across the coffee table in the living room, and tons of pictures hanging on the wall. You didn’t want to snoop-no, you weren’t going to snoop. You walked swiftly past the photos on the wall, only catching a slight glimpse of a picture of him and an older woman, presumably his mom.

Debating where to put the clothes, you figured it made sense to hang them in his closet. The scent got stronger as you stepped down a hallway, peeking your head into each of the rooms, trying to find his bedroom. It was at the end of the hallway, and you tried your hardest not to look around while you were walking across the room to his closet, but some things were inevitable to see. The room was clean, unorganized, but still clean. The bed was unmade. More pictures covered the wall, and this time, you let yourself take a glance. Most of them were him and his family. It made you crack a smile, the thought of Joe being a family man.

You hung the clothes in the closet quickly and turned back around, ready to leave, when an orange and white cat ran past your feet and jumped onto his bed. You flinched and then laughed. “Kitty, you scared me.” You said softly, walking over to the bed and reaching out your hand.

The cat nuzzled its face against your knuckles and you giggled lightly. 

“She’s not like that with most people.” A voice said from behind you. 

“Jesus!” You jumped, turning around to see Joe in the doorway. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“You’re in my house!” He laughed.

“Sorry, I just… Sorry. I promise I wasn’t snooping around or anything I was just, I’m so sorry.” You rambled, suddenly flustered by the fact that you were in your boss’ bedroom. You sighed. “I was hanging up your clothes and-”

“Y/N, kid, I don’t care.” He laughed.

You took a deep breath and put your face in your hands. “I’m sorry.” You chuckled.

He came over and sat at the end of the bed by you, his cat immediately crawling into his lap. “I meant what I said though, she’s usually mean to new people.” He said, petting his cat softly.

You sat down next to him, reaching your hand over to pet her as well. “What’s her name?”

“Ronnie. I originally thought I was getting a boy cat so I picked out that name, I got it from the movie ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’, but then they told me last minute I was getting a girl. So I guess she’s just a girl named after a boy.”

“Mm.” You hummed “Never seen it.”

His hands froze. “You’re kidding.”

“No, I’ve never seen it.” You giggled.

He gasped. “Y/N, are you fucking serious? You’ve never seen Can’t Buy Me Love? That’s like, a staple movie of American Cinema!”

You laughed a little harder. “I’ve just never really got around to it, I guess?”

He scoffed and began laughing too. “That’s ridiculous. I’m forcing you to watch it sometime. Sometime before shooting ends, that’s my goal. We have to culture you.”

“You’re my boss, I guess I have to agree.” You said.

“Mhm. Exactly.” He said, his eyes twinkling.

Ronnie crossed over to your lap and laid down. Joe scooted closer to you to continue scratching her head, unintentionally pressing his thigh against yours.

You tried to keep your breathing steady as you stared down at the cat, doing everything you could to distract yourself from Joe, who seemingly paid no mind to your closeness.

A quiet fell over the room as you both silently pet his cat. It was a comforting scene.

Ronnie, who had seemed to start more than one problem tonight, decided to stand up, stretch, then jump off your lap, trotting out of the room. Now, there you sat, right next to Joe.

He looked up at you, like he had just now realized how close he was to you.

“I should… probably go.” You said quietly. He nodded and you stood up, making a beeline for the door. 

“Bye, Y/N, thanks for picking up my dry cleaning.” He spoke dryly.

You turned and rested your hand against the doorway to his room. “Goodnight Joe.”

You could’ve thrown up as you took the elevator down to the first floor. Here you are, just about 3 weeks into your first job, and you almost truly, royally fucked things up. 

Maybe, you thought, you were thinking too far into things. That things hadn’t crossed over a professional line, that all you really ever did was pet his cat and talk about a stupid movie. 

As Joe heard you walk out his front door, he flopped back onto his bed, covering his face with his hands, the same thought process as you going through his mind.

“Fuck.” He groaned. 

-

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