#him sitting down and trying to figure out a new strategy for the team. when his heart hasn’t really been in it lately

[tedbecca]

sunflowers was not my favourite TL episode. it had some really good moments and other moments i was like eeehhhhh about. but overall i did enjoy it and i look forward to seeing where the characters go from here

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 4

Oh, shit. I was supposed to post this today, wasn't I?

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Feels, anxiety, grown ass adult conversations

Word Count: 2,055

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3]

You nibble on your thumb nail, trying and failing to pay attention to the audiobook blasting in your ears. You’re only a few short minutes from touching down at Avenger’s Tower after months away. There’s a nervous excitement bubbling away under your skin, but it is tempered by anxiety of seeing Bucky again.

You can’t help but glance at the parachutes lined up along the wall of the cargo bay you’re sitting in. Shaking your head imperceptibly, you dismiss the impulse as a coward’s way of avoiding an uncomfortable situation. You’ve already come up with a strategy, a game-plan, for how you are going to deal with Bucky and make this situation as easy as possible for the both of you.

You’re startled from your musings when you feel a hand lift the headphone from your ear. You turn wide eyes to Steve as he crouches beside you and tells you that you’ll be landing in less than a minute. 

You nod mutely. You discard your headphones and place them back into your duffel bag while tucking your phone into your back pocket. You take a steadying breath as you feel the quinjet settle down onto the landing pad. Steve and Sam join you at the back of the jet. With a soft jolt and a hiss of pressure, the bay doors open wide.

Standing against a backdrop of glass and steel and the bottom of the giant ‘A’ stands a lone figure.

Bucky.

He’s the only one on the platform, the wind fiercely whipping against his clothing and hair this high up. You can’t help but admire him for a fraction of a second. As you notice that his hair no longer brushes against his collarbones – instead, the short strands don’t even reach his eyes when the wind blows them onto his face. He looks ruggedly handsome with the new haircut, the length helping to define his face and accentuate the stubble growing across his jaw.

The effect he has on you is almost instantaneous, your heart acting as if you hadn’t spent months away from him at his request. It beats a staccato rhythm in your chest, demanding blood to flow to the beat of Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. 

You take a stutter-step off the jet, hoping for composure.

You remain five steps behind the boys as Bucky claps Steve enthusiastically on the back as they hug, muttering something into his ear. Then he lets go to grip Sam’s hand before bringing him in to bump shoulders. You use this time to look behind Bucky, checking to see if anyone else from the team is going to show up to greet you since you’re sure you won’t be receiving as warm a welcome from the man before you.

“Everyone else is out at the moment,” Bucky’s voice calls out hesitantly. You turn your eyes back to him, watching a pained smile spread across his lips as your eyes meet after so long apart. The wind snatches his next words away so you’re not sure if you weren’t meant to hear them or not, but you watch his lips form the words ‘Hey, doll’ as his smile relaxes into something less rigid.

A knife wedges itself into your ribs at the name. You swallow hard and paste a polite expression on, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Taking a deep breath, you hoist your bag higher onto your shoulder and walk inside, bypassing the group of men as they watch you leave.

You enter the building, breathing in the scent of your home and reacquainting yourself with the familiar surroundings. The medbay resides behind glass walls directly in front of you, the easy access from the landing pad having saved you life and limb on a number of occasions. 

Your feet guide you to the elevator on instinct, showing you the way to your rooms without conscious effort. The ding of the elevator doors closing and the hum of Black Sabbath playing quietly over the speakers brings a small but genuine smile to your lips, your first today.

You don’t anticipate many in the coming weeks.

The doors ding once again and you step out into the living quarters. You run your hands along the back of the plush sofa as you pass, then slide your fingers along the textured wallpaper as you exit the living room and head towards the bedrooms. 

You’re halfway down the hall when the stairwell door ahead of you opens quickly. You stumble to a halt as Bucky steps out, slightly out of breath. You watch him as he first looks in the direction you were walking then swivels his head to look back at you where you stand with your hand against the wall.

Your hand rises to clutch at the straps of your bag on your shoulder, now using two hands to keep it aloft instead of one. You fret with a loose seam with your fingernails when Bucky calls your name softly and walks slowly toward you.

He stops a mere foot or so away from you, but you increase the distance with a step back. There’s a flash of something in his eyes when you move away, so fast you can’t tell what it was.

His voice is soft when he speaks. “Can we talk?”

Shit. You hadn’t been expecting to have this conversation so soon. You’d been hoping for a little time to get into the right headspace, get your emotions in check before facing him head-on.

You nod your head and wipe your expression blank, removing your fidgeting hands and keeping them slack at your side. You lock down every emotion inside of you, just in case you can’t say what you need to.

Bucky nods back at you and stuffs his hands into the pocket of his jeans, pulling in on himself. You can’t stand to see him so uncomfortable around you.

“Listen, doll, I wanted to apologize –” he begins. 

If you hear Bucky apologize again for suggesting to sleep together, hear how much he still regrets having spent time knowing you intimately, you will implode. All the feelings you’ve sorted through and the realizations you’ve come to in the last couple of months will burst forth out of your chest and spew all over Bucky. You’ll vomit out the words you held back when you were ‘together’. Then eight letters that would ruin everything between you forever will fall from your lips and land at his feet, where he is sure to stomp them flat underneath his boots again.

You can’t hear it. Not again. So you stop him from breaking your heart a third time.

“Stop.” You raise a hand in the air, palm towards him. You wave it back and forth in an effort to halt the apology in his throat. He closes his mouth and looks at you questioningly.

“We don’t have to rehash our last conversation, James. I get it, you –”

“James?” he interrupts softly, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

Dammit, he’s probably right, you think to yourself, that’s still probably friendlier than he wants.

“Sorry. Sargeant, then.”

“That isn’t what –”

“I did what you asked and got myself together,” you begin again. You stare hard at a blur just past Bucky’s head, unable to meet his eyes and see the anger and loathing again. “You don’t have to worry about any lingering feelings on my part. I took the time away to realize that I only thought I felt that way about you due to our arrangement.” 

Liar, liar, LIAR. You loved this man then, and you love him now. But your love suffocated him, stifled his ability to explore his sexuality and intimacy with new partners in the 21st century after decades under Hydra’s control. He wanted no strings attached to figure out what he needed, and you took the opportunity and ran with it. He gave you an inch and you took miles.

You refuse to do that to him again.

“I sincerely apologize again for forcing my feelings on you and overstepping. I understand if you no longer wish for me to call you Bucky or James, if you still wish to not be friends anymore. I –”

“Y/N, no,” Bucky says. He removes a hand from his pocket and steps forward, barely reaching out for you before dropping his hand again. “I never said that.”

Well, it was implied, you thought bitterly, sadly. “I don’t mind the formality, Sergeant. If that’s what I need to do in order –”

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky demands forcefully. The shock of his words finally gets you to look him in the eyes. His jaw is locked tight and you can see his teeth grinding together.

So he doesn’t want me to address him at all? You think. Doesn't want me to speak with him at all?

“Ah. Well that…” You scratch the back of your head, turning your face away from him. “I mean – I won’t bother you outside of missions from now on, but I need at least some way of addressing you during –”

“If you say one more word, I’m going to lose my fucking mind!” Bucky yells at you, finally exasperated enough to raise his voice. 

You flinch and take another step back. “Sorry…” you murmur, looking down at the carpeted flooring under your shoes. All the sudden, you see Bucky’s boots inches from your own and feel his hands grab hold of your shoulders – not rough, but also not gentle. You raise your head, your wide eyes meeting his.

“I never said I didn’t want to be friends,” Bucky says vehemently. “Y/N, I am so sorry for how I acted the last time we saw each other – sorry for how angry I got.” At this, his hands loosen a fraction on your shoulders, his fingers no longer digging into the soft flesh of your shoulder blades. “You’re one of my best friends. I started seeing a new therapist after you left; she’s helped me realize how important you are to me. Helped me realize that –”

His words are cut off as you drop your bag and immediately slam into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. You burrow your face into his neck and squeeze your arms when you inhale the familiar smell of his soap and skin. You’ve missed him so much, missed his company and his voice and his laugh and his smile and just everything about him. Your eyes begin to water when you feel his arms circle around you in return, pulling you tight into his embrace.

You speak into the space between your bodies quickly before he can finish his thought, wanting him to know that you can do this. You can be friends again. He doesn’t need to worry about loving you back. Just as long as you can still be his friend. Just as long as you can still love him in secret. Just as long as you can still secretly hope he changes his mind someday.

“I promise I don’t love you,” you say to him.

Liar.

“Please, doll. Don’t say–” Bucky tries to loosen his grip and pull away, but you hold fast and keep going.

“I promise it was just a crush, I promise I don’t feel that way anymore.”

Lies.

You remove your face from Bucky’s neck, looking up into his eyes. You have tears streaming down, but you give him a reckless smile, “I promise.”

You are such a fucking liar.

Because being in his arms again reminds you just how much you’ve missed them. Just how much you’ve missed loving him up close.

Bucky takes a moment to look desperately at you, eyes flickering between your own, trying to find any hint of a lie. You’re so happy Bucky still wants you in his life as a friend that forcing the love to stay hidden isn’t excruciatingly painful at the moment. 

Taking your words as truth, Bucky nods his head once and crushes you to his chest, squeezing tightly. You feel him sigh heavily when he rests his chin on top of your hair. Nuzzling softly, he places a small, chaste kiss onto the crown of your head before pulling away entirely. 

A sad smile mars his face, and you can’t imagine what caused it.

Part 5

@jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Seriously from a comms perspective I cannot stress enough how incredibly smart and strategic this launch/evolution/whatever you want to call it is. And to be clear I’m not saying it’s because they are PR. THAT IS NOT IT. Taylor and Travis are real people who happen to live in extraordinary circumstances that necessitate a plan in this regard because people can be so fucking weird about it.

The idea of acknowledging the elephant in the room instead of ignoring it and letting it take up space is what it all comes down to. Sure it was a frenzy when they first went public and the first bits of PDA hit the airwaves, but in the end what it does is normalize it. By this point, everyone knows they’re a couple and it’s not weird when they do hold hands or kiss or acknowledge each other in public. Because that’s what anyone would do with their significant other and trying to make it secret just makes it weird, for both the media and the people involved in the relationship.

So the way they’ve navigated this again has been masterful. There clearly are boundaries (it seems especially on Taylor’s end which Travis happily obliges) but that doesn’t mean they can’t just be themselves either. So, they’re not inviting people into their living room each week, but the gradual public meshing of their image served a purpose to normalize it. From Taylor’s first game to the occasional fluff pieces to trusted outlets to steer the narrative to acknowledging the public outings to dipping their toes in social media official, it’s making it so that now that they’ve moved into the next phase of their lives (whatever that may mean now but whatever it is it’s clearly serious and clearly considered permanent by both of them), they can share what they want without it being a stressor.

So if Taylor wants to be goofy, she can change her song lyrics or invite him up onto the stage and it’s newsworthy because she’s her but it’s not weird. Travis can be interviewed and be asked about his partner who is a public figure and speak highly of her without it turning into a maelstrom. Gradually their domestic status is going to be normalized so that their every move isn’t as big of a deal. (It’ll still be news because they are who they are, but it won’t seem like they’re sitting down for a root canal every time.)

I hate to call this a “rollout” because they’re people, not products, but in terms of a PR strategy, it’s excellent. And it’s not that every move they do is PR!!! It’s that every move they make is public, so they need to navigate that so that they can maintain their personal boundaries as they wish. It’s not that every interview is calculated, but it’s more that what they do or don’t choose to share at any moment in time is helping them figure out what they’re comfortable with, and it’s also lessening the market value, if you will, of any anecdotes. The more people become accustomed to them as a unit, the less each quote like this is bound to make huge headlines. (I mean other than fans like us because we want our pop star bestie to have everything she wants.)

It’s not just that their teams have set a great example, it’s that THEY are handling it with such skill and grace. I’m honestly blown away by it from a professional perspective and suspect that they figured out early on that getting a handle on it and guiding the narrative instead of pretending it didn’t exist might have been scary at first but has proven to make things so much easier and takes up way less space in all their brains.

[mocc-tok-flip-flop]

So it's been a while since I posted, but I got deep into the Pokemon fandom again and the train twins have now taken over! I just had to design some Pokemon forms for Emmet and Ingo!!

I know some people aren't as into stats and abilities, but I really wanted to sit down and hash out their strategies and movesets. They're subway masters AND ridiculously strong and skilled trainers, so I wanted to make sure that their Pokemon forms also reflected that! So if you're into that (or learning how Hisui changed their partnership) it'll be under the Read More below!

Let me know if y'all want to see more of these guys! I have even written their Pokedex entries and figured out their habits and natures! (Also, just because I thought it was funny, now Ingo is the one who's weak to Earthquake)

Ok, so the first thing I determined were general specialties! Ingo, despite his intimidating appearance and his fighting typing, is actually a better special attacker. I imagine that the twins play up the perception that other people have for them: Ingo is indimidating and Emmet is friendly, so Ingo is actually a sneaky special attacker and Emmet is a surprise physical attacker!

Their base stats reflect this, and I put their total around evolved starter range to make sure they're viable for competitive battling. As for typing, it was mostly based on various Pokemon they have on their teams, but I kinda wanted to make them partially types suited more to their counterpart, so Electric for Ingo and Steel(?) for Emmet? It's not perfect, but I HAD to make sure Ingo shared a typing with Lady Sneasler so they can be friends in Hisui. And Emmet is a Bug type because Emmet.

I agonized over their movesets and abilities for a long time, but I really wanted to show that they are a Duo, Please Do Not Seperate. So their moves and abilities help to cover each other in a double battle! Ingo has the absolute beast of a move Boomburst (both because he's loud and because it's a 140 base special attack with no downsides) so he's got Brick Break to make sure that there's no screens or shields blocking his big finishing move. Workup helps with all of his moves and since it boosts physical and special, it works to hide his little-known special attack specialty until it's too late.

I had fun with Emmet's moveset! Not only does he have Reflect to help cover his beloved brother's weaknesses, but in the case they're fighting a singles battle he's got U-Turn to effortlessly switch into his brother's big finisher move. I waffled between Reflect and another move that would reduce special defence (set up even better for Ingo's finishing move), but ultimately decided I liked Emmet shielding his big brother better.

I also want you to know that for his move Attack Order, Emmet literally commands a small battalion of Joltiks who like to hide in his coat. Verrry cute.

Of course, the codependency doesn't stop at their moves! Ingo's ability literally reduces the damage that Emmet takes when they battle together, and Emmet's Volt Absorb ability means that Ingo can always heal up his little brother if the Joltiks don't heal him first.

And now we get to the sad part. During their separation, both of them change, as now they no longer have each other to rely on in battle. Ingo changes out his Brick Break for an Aura Sphere, as when fighting solo (and sometimes multiple opponents) he doesn't have time for a lot of setup and is best on relying on his special attacking rather than trying to play the long game. His ability also changes to Defiant, to reflect his heightened need for fighting and his determination to find what he knows is missing (YES I know technically abilities can't really change but THEY'RE SPECIAL OK and it was sadder this way).

And oh boy, while Emmet can pretend he's fine as much as he wants, his changes truly show how much Ingo's loss devastated him. There's no-one left to switch with, so he trades his U-Turn for a more aggressive Lunge instead. And even worse, his new ability, Anger Point, will boost his attack once he hits half health. Which means that now he will try to get hurt and stay hurt, since now his brother can no longer heal him :(

Sorry for so much rambling, but I got suuuuper into designing these guys! The actual designs are alright, but I still think they need to be more distinctive somehow. Might go back and tweak it a bit later, but I'm happy with it for now. Why are they weird kangaroo things with hooves? Idk, but they look cool and that's what really matters~

[customboytoyz]

been thinking about healslut kink and giving it a forcemasc twist. a player new to the game joins a round with strangers, has a middling time, but the healer in the party is nice and fun to talk to, and she takes this new player under her wing. teaches how to play, and various strategies, and how to identify bad teammates. new player and the healer get along, and she's just so *nice*, there's no way she's a bad person, so they start sending each other gifts in the mail and eventually start meeting up. and this new player trusts her, they talk all the time, and she's a little touchy but she doesn't mean anything untoward, so it's fine, and they're friends! but uh. every time the new player gets healed, the character becomes a little more of a tank, and due to mmmm hand wavey porn magic, so does the player. each heal, each hang out, each lingering touch, the player gets a little beefier, a little brasher, a little more confident. those packages in the mail—they start out with t-shirts and socks, then it's body wash and cologne, slutty shorts that get a little smaller with each game. at some point, she comes over and cuts the player's hair, gentle hands and soothing words just like when they're playing, and she's just making the player better, don't worry, you'll look so handsome like this. before long, they're playing in the same room, and then she's sitting in the player's lap, grinding down for particularly good plays, and a win calls for a celebratory titty groping, and a loss? well, a sympathy grope works just as well. and she's just so sweet, telling her tank that he's so handsome and strong, and she'll take care of him, in game and in life, so long as he keeps listening to her and letting her take care of him. he's a big guy, now, and she's pretty dainty, but a delicate hand on his bicep or holding his and he's following her like a lost pup, all eager to please, and maybe he's got a few wandering hands but she doesn't really mind, she likes him handsy and horny. each successful hit makes him moan these days, preemptive, before he gets the reward he's expecting, and sometimes it doesn't come at all. sometimes those hits are reward enough, ratcheting his arousal a little further. every heal is near orgasmic, and she thinks that it's just so cute that he gets so worked up. he's her tank, she's his healer, and they're a team. and if they see some pretty young thing, new to the game and figuring out how to play, and decide to take them under their wing? a young man still figuring out the controls, a bit stilted and awkward at the controls, could become a new healer with a tiny skirt and a budding chest and a cheerful can-do attitude. a young woman playing games to take a break from the rest of her life, not really sure about it yet, could be a new tank with a carpet of chest hair and a newfound confidence. a new player could bring a new bit of fun into their party.

- dissertation anon

im like actually so mad you reminded me of the term healslut that i've been trying to think of an answer to this that doesn't make me look like the biggest fucking cunt in the world.

please please please make your own blog dissertation anon i like cannot get past the first sentence on this

[readbyred]

You're writing for the new TD? That's fun! I cannot wait to see more of it 🫶 Would it be possible for if you wrote about contestants that have no dating experience and ask their fellow contestants for flirting advice and strategy? I think this would be especially fun with contestants like Zee, Priya and so on! Thank you if you're writing this! 👐

I already like you anon, that’s a good req. I’ll do a part two if u want, with all contestants even. But for now I have only a few cause some just fit the prompt more/I have an idea for them. So those will b: priya, zee, axel, scary girl, ripper, chase. If you think I have a fav team - you’re totally right haha

Also I hope I understood correctly. If not I can redo it. Like, the character is into sbd (reader) and they ask their friend for advice, yeah?

-> Priya

We all know that her whole thing is being prepared, setting goals and reaching them. Whether it’s Total Drama or med school, she has it all figured out. But there was never any camp or class on having a crush. That’s why, when she realises that she has one, she goes to Millie for help. She has a way of looking at having one as if it’s a task she needs to accomplish, a challenge to win. Needless to say - it didn’t do much. Her crush might not even know she likes them at that point. So to stop herself from making things worse, she confided in her best friend. Millie, as a fan of traditional values above all, thinks that being kind and honest about her feelings is the way. To help Priya overcome her nerves, she proposes that she should get used to her crush by being around them in a group setting. Also, as she states, chivalry can do wonders. After a few days Priya did get more comfortable around her crush, even if only a little. Any time they need help - she’s there! Even if it’s just opening doors. As they get more comfortable with each other, she’ll even propose training them. After all, Millie said that the power of true classical romance can conquer all

-> Zee

As much of an easy going guy as Zee is, he does get a tiny bit worked up about his crush. There never was much of a desire to get into a relationship. Although he is a private person, he does mention some of his feelings to Chase and Ripper. Ah, my sweet summer child. That poor guy had no idea. As soon as they hear him mention having a crush, their eyes light up and they have him sit down, so that they can tell him EXACTLY what to do. They swarm him with incoherent advice, talking one over the other. They see this as their way to show off their incredible game. Of which they have arguably none. They make a ‘game plan’ for Zee, but half of it goes over his head. The other half of information still deals massive damage though. So every time he talks with his crush he pulls those weird moves that do nothing but confuse both parties. He mixes up the pick-up lines, makes multiple failed attempts at the yawn-thing and doesn’t even really get how those things are supposed to improve anything. Imo he’s too chill to really go all out and try to win sbd over in any dramatic way. And acting like somebody different is against his own beliefs. So he only ever listens to their advice if he thinks that it will make his crush happy. That’s for the best to be honest because Chase would be projecting his feelings for Emma and living through Zee’s situation. And I can see Ripper totally quoting some date coach he watches, like, build your crush up and then destroy them to show them who’s boss, don’t smile at women to make them think they have to work for it, compare them to other people. Thankfully it doesn’t work bc it’s Zee we’re talking abt, he wouldn’t. So, good on him. And his crush.

-> Axel

My girl definitely takes her time to realise she might need help. At first she would be trying to impress her crush with her survival skills. But showing up with wild animals half cooked on a stick or leaving trinkets at their shoes might not be the best idea to get her point across. This girl’s like a cat fr! I feel like she would maybe ask Nichelle since she always seems so confident and Axel is one of the only contestants that isn’t intimidated by her fame. Asking her might sound like a good idea, but uhm,, it’s very hit or miss. She doesn’t actually have much dating experience and just like with being athletic - she’s better at talking than at doing. But if anyone can advise Axel how to approach people- it’s her. The key to get to know her crush. She advises Axel to approach it like a task, like learning a new role. Observe, maybe ask their friends or them is she’s not sure about something. Ask them questions about themselves too. It’s not too romantic but it works.

-> Lauren

I’m not sure how badly the things would have to get for her to ask anybody for help. Her methods are… uncanny to say the least. She’s not above tormenting her crush for the hell of it. Actually, it might be her favourite thing to do. But it doesn’t get her far. That’s where Priya comes in. Since they became friends she would feel a bit more comfortable asking Lauren about the whole… situation. She’d be glad to help (despite having very little experience herself) but I can’t imagine Scary girl jumping on the chance. After some time she would give in though, if her crush gets too scared of her. Priya would try to get Lauren to open up more and it’s probably terrifying for all parties involved. But in the end she does convince her eerie friend to at least try to hint to the person that she’s interested in them romantically and will NOT hunt them down for sport (most likely). It’s Scary Girl we’re talking about so it’s about as romantic as it gets

-> Ripper

Just like he said, he has tons of experience and kissed a lot of girls. He’s just… unused to caring about one person. Yeah! Bc, yk, usually he keeps a rotation of hot chicks. No need to get all worked up over one girl that he could very easily have. Still, he does ask Chase for advice. Because he’s a bro and because he’s more so the type to get with someone long term. So, perhaps if his crush proves to be worth it, he might need help with starting his first serious relationship. Ripper’s idea of getting his crush to like him back is to get rich and/or famous. Then they will find him hot. If he’ll have money then he’ll be attractive and cool. Right? Well, Chase does entertain the idea but also tries to get his bro to rizz his crush a little earlier than after they all leave the show. It’s not like he has to ask him long, Ripper has a collection of lines straight from his favourite alphalpha pick up artist podcast and is ready to use them. Chase mostly just hypes him up. But also advises him against things like, yk, farting or talking about human waste (which should be a given but isn’t). Though Ripper is on the fence about it I can see him listening to the advice depending on how his crush reacts to those things. Also Chase tries to be his wingman. Which completely blows his cover, if his crush didn’t know Ripper liked them before - they sure will after Chase gets involved

-> Chase

Now, Chase has definitely been in a relationship. But realistically speaking it could have been his first and only one. And though he’s great, objectively his crush might not jump on the chance to be with him. Like, he’s not rly, yk, emotionally mature. Also, like, he did pee himself/right on the sidewalk on a date bc he couldn’t hold it and that seemed like the best option. Would sell his crush for pizza too. But! He is persistent. And strangely charming in his own failboy way. Still, if puppy dog eyes and following his crush around doesn’t work then he will ask his bros. It will either go great or very very badly. Because Zee could genuinely have some decent advice. And it’s not that Ripper can’t get good ideas. But I feel like he would get really focused on proving his experience with girls and not on actually helping. All in all at least Chase isn’t shy about his feelings, because the flirting advice he is given varies in quality. But at least his crush will know how he feels ig

[ridiasfangirlings]

Sarumi AU where Saruhiko is a pro gamer who plays online games all day in his computer and only drinks coffee for his dinner. One time Saruhiko ended up inside his computer in the game he was playing (he was playing some fighting game) That's where he saw and met Misaki

Yup, that’s how you get isekaied all right. Imagine Fushimi who almost never leaves his house and makes money as a pro gamer, he enters random tournaments and never shows his face because even that is a pain. He only does single player PvP too, every so often other gamers will reach out to him and try to get him to join a team for a pro league and Fushimi just deletes their emails. He doesn’t see any point in interacting with the rest of the world, as far as he’s concerned it’s just a pain to deal with other people and he would rather be alone living off coffee and Caloriemate. One day he receives a mysterious game in the mail which claims to be a free trial that was sent out to multiple gamers. Normally Fushimi would be suspicious of such a thing but he’s been feeling unwell lately and he figures playing a new game will give him something else to focus on, and anyway he’s received advance game copies before. He starts the game up and it’s a fighting game, Fushimi finds the character selection screen a little underwhelming. Like look at this one fighter, some short redhead with a bat even though it’s a fantasy setting, how stupid. 

He starts playing but begins to feel dizzy, he puts his controller down and goes to get an aspirin but ends up passing out. He wakes up to someone shaking him, Fushimi grumbles ‘annoying’ and puts out a hand to wave them away, accidentally smacking the person in the face. The guy who was trying to wake him up squawks indignantly and Fushimi opens his eyes, sitting up and asking why someone else is in his apartment. The guy beside him is like uh what are you talking about and Fushimi realizes he’s outside, in some kind of stadium. Next to him is a short redhead with a bat and imagine Fushimi just giving this flat look like ‘really’ because he’s played his fair share of isekai games and this has to be a stupid dream. The guy introduces himself as Yata and Fushimi grumbles ‘I know’ before he can stop himself, Yata’s all flattered because to think he’s just started in ‘the Games’ and he already has a fan. Fushimi’s like I’m not your fan Misaki and Yata’s like wait how did you know my first name I don’t tell that to anyone. Fushimi mutters ‘the character selection screen,’ Yata has no idea what he’s talking about but Fushimi doesn’t look well so Yata figures he should take Fushimi to the med tent to check on him.

As he’s being looked over Fushimi realizes that he really did get isekaied, and even worse he’s wearing a wristband that proclaims him as a contestant in these battle games. Fushimi decides he’ll have to survive this to escape the game and figures that Yata seems stupid and gullible so Fushimi will just use him to learn all about the games and how to beat them. Yata doesn’t know what’s up with this weird skinny guy who somehow joined the games but he’s always happy to help and explains how the whole thing is like a big gladiator-style fighting ring and whoever wins gets a big prize. Imagine Yata thinks Fushimi should probably drop out because he seems pretty weak but then in his first fight Fushimi wins by using knives and strategy and now Yata thinks that this Saruhiko guy is amazing. Fushimi is determined to just use Yata to win his way up the ranks but when Misaki says ‘amazing’ it makes his heart skip a beat and as they spend more time together he realizes something horrible: he actually likes Misaki, and he doesn’t want to go back to the world where Misaki doesn’t exist. But at the same time he doesn’t know what will happen if he loses here either, and part of him is aware that as Yata keeps winning too they might have to eventually face each other.

[ladyvictory22]

Sweet Jealousy

Having spent a long time in Formula One had brought Christian the joy of meeting prominent figures from various social backgrounds. Many of these individuals who arrived at the paddock greeted the Team Principals and the drivers, often took tours around the garage, and stayed in one of the team's hospitality suites. However, there was always someone who wanted to draw attention and started being overly flirtatious.

At this moment, it was happening... a well-dressed and charming woman was flirting or attempting to flirt with Toto. She touched his arm and laughed very insincerely at anything his husband. Christian could only watch from a distance with a not very hidden expression

"Christian wanted to talk to you about the strategy... Wow, why do you look like you're about to kill someone?" Max said as he sat down next to Christian.

"It doesn't look like it; he actually wants to kill someone," said another voice, none other than Sebastian.

"Please don't be exaggerated, Vettel," Christian said, looking at Seb and Max while keeping an eye on Merc's hospitality suite.

"Your expression is pretty exaggerated; it's quite obvious. Max, you'll see that person won't set foot in the paddock again in their life," Sebastian said, smiling, as Christian shot him a desperate look.

"Wow, I didn't know you were quite jealous, Christian," Max said, surprised.

"Yes, he is," Seb chimed in.

"No, I'm not, I just... that girl doesn't seem pleasant to me," Christian said, trying unsuccessfully to change the subject.

"Christian, anyone who gets too close to Toto doesn't sit well with you, especially if they're in your line of sight for too long... Max, if you knew what happened once at Silverstone," Sebastian said.

"Sebastian, shut up," Christian warned.

"But I want to know," Max said, excited.

So, when Christian and Toto were starting their romance, they had been dating for a few months when, during the Silverstone Grand Prix, Christian had his first strong bout of jealousy. It's not that Christian was a jealous person. He had always known that Toto was handsome and that whenever he walked through the paddock, he garnered glances and sighs from people. But that time was different because Toto had brought a guest to the Mercedes garage.

Christian only knew her by name and from some news; she was the driver Susie Stoddart, and Christian could see her chatting happily with Toto. Something stirred inside him... he was so lost in thought that he didn't notice when Toto and his friend approached.

"Hello, Chris," Toto said.

"Wolff," Christian replied, sounding curt, and Toto noticed.

"I... I wanted to introduce you to a very special friend; she's Susie, Susie, this is Christian," Toto said.

"It's a pleasure to meet you! Toto talks a lot about you," Susie said, greeting Christian.

"He talks about me? So, you guys talk often," Christian said, and he could feel the anger rising.

"Oh, of course, since we were at Williams, when I joined Mercedes, we kept in touch from time to time," Toto mentioned.

"Ah... from time to time... okay, well, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting. I'm leaving," Christian said without waiting for a response; he felt furious, having seen them foolishly laughing and having fun, knowing that they talked quite a bit had angered him even more.

Christian decided then to avoid Toto for the rest of the weekend. Apparently, it didn't matter; Christian could see them chatting in the Mercedes hospitality suite or in the garage, and Toto didn't make any effort to seek him out.

There he was, watching them from a distance in the pitlane.

"If you had laser beams, you would have blasted them already," Sebastian remarked, approaching.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about..." Christian said, still looking askance.

"For God's sake, Chris, are you jealous?" Sebastian said, laughing when Christian shot him a furious look. "You've seen him like this all weekend... if you feel this way, tell him."

"I have nothing to say to him; he doesn't seem to care," Christian said.

"He's not a mind reader, Chris; if anything, with everything Toto has done to show that he loves you... you shouldn't be jealous. People should be jealous of you because he loves you a lot," Sebastian said, with a soft smile.

"Yes, of course, and yet they approach each other that way, talk a lot, and joke between themselves," Christian complained.

Later that night, after the race, Christian entered his office to file away the day's documents when he encountered a certain someone.

"Hello, dear," Toto said, waiting for him in the office with wine and some desserts.

"Hello," Christian replied, quite curtly.

"I thought we could spend some time together now..." Toto said, approaching.

"Mmm, maybe, since you were so, so busy," Christian said.

"Dear..." Toto said.

"No, of course not, it doesn't matter," Christian said, approaching his desk to file some papers under Toto's watchful gaze.

"Christian Edward Jhoston Horner..." Toto said in a serious tone, and his accent became more pronounced, which made Christian shiver. "You've been behaving strangely; you ignore me, you get angry with me... what's going on? And tell me honestly."

Christian turned to face Toto, who had a neutral expression but not an angry one, attentive to what was about to come out of his mouth.

"Well, I have my reasons; you haven't paid me any attention all weekend because you were so busy with your guests," Christian said.

"Huh? Guests?... Chris... are you jealous?" Toto asked, smiling slightly.

"What? No, of course not, you just didn't pay attention," Christian said, looking away, giving Toto the cold shoulder.

Then, Christian felt arms wrapping around his hips. "Darling, were you jealous all weekend of Susie?"

"I told you I wasn't, Wolff," Christian said, trying to break free from Toto, who tightened his grip.

"You are... darling, you don't have to be... Susie really is a special friend to me... she supported me a lot when I wanted to ask you out," Toto said, and Christian began to feel embarrassed.

Christian turned and said, "Toto, I... God, I'm sorry... but I just felt... I don't know, upset..."

"My love, I belong to you... with each passing day, I fall more in love with you; I wouldn't look at anyone the way I look at you..." Toto said, putting a hand on Christian's cheek and gently caressing it.

And Christian blushed deeply... no matter what he did, Toto always managed to make him melt and sigh for him.

Toto then smiled and closed the gap between them, giving Christian a sweet kiss..."I can't imagine if I'm the one who gets jealous, darling... I'll be just as insufferable or worse."

"Darling..." Christian said, laughing.Then they had a quiet and romantic evening, full of apologies, cuddles, and kisses... days later, Christian would apologize for his behavior towards Susie.

"Oh wow..." Max said, whistling.

"Yes, you see him as the big boss of Mercedes, but when he's with you-know-who... he's a tamed wolf," Seb said, laughing.

And Christian smiled, looking at Sebastian and Max... and then looking at Toto, who had just turned to look at him... he smiled at him, winked, and made Christian smile. Yes, currently, there is no jealousy... almost not anymore... he is sure of how much Toto loves him, he knows that people can see... but not touch.

[studiojeon]

use me | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. i think you can read this by itself though :)

| summary | -   Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you.

warnings: language (?), mentions of hook ups and situationships. mentions of emotional trauma.

contents: a compilation of moments that contributed to the growth of their relationship, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read, jungkook is hard to read and sus. oc is kinda whipped and scared af. chaeryeong knows who you are and where you live. jk and oc are scared to let each other in. friends to lovers, idol!jungkook x student!oc.

author’s note: i hate this, but i have to get it off my chest. (the narration is off af but if i keep it in my drafts for longer this will never see the light of the day). p.s. thank u so much for the support on the last drabble <3

playlist: rain by trey songz (feat. swae lee). 

words: 4.75k

“JK?” as his broad back faces you, you call out his name timidly, not missing the way he swiftly turns around as soon as he hears his name come from your lips. Hair wet and darker than usual, a very big sweat stain at the center of his hoodie. He had just gotten out of practice, you assumed. 

“___?” he replied with the initials of your name as well, one of his tired grins plastered on his face, he must have been exhausted. You had caught on to him just as he walked out of the practice room in front of the elevator on your way to your office, right when you needed him, but now you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea to pester him. Even so, you didn’t know anyone else you could ask for help, aside from Linh who was currently in her own office doing other tasks you had assigned to her.

“Are you busy right now?” your eyes stare at him shyly, in hopes that he was willing to help you out, because you wanted to be around him, so maybe he could share a bit of his positive energy with you, the past week had been hellish.  “Could use some help returning all those heavy stacks of paper in my office”.

“Of course! Why didn’t you give me a call earlier though? It’s pretty late” he walked by your side and you enter the elevator, beginning your adventure around the company.

Jungkook was fun. Always bubbly and reciprocative, constantly trying his best to make you laugh and make the absolute best of your situation, even if he could be a bit stubborn at times. You liked the spontaneity he provided though, the way he would switch from one topic to another and how he would make silly faces at you whenever you locked eyes. 

He didn’t know, but in pure ignorance, he had just made your day ten times better. 

In the past week, you had received a lot of counterarguments, one by one, on how useless your management tactics were. Granted, you hadn’t expected for your ideas to be welcomed with open arms, but at least you had hoped they would take them into consideration. You had also been assigned a team, in charge of social media management, who worked monotonously and with little to no insertion in the actual target audience… your logic was: how can you advertise products to an audience you don’t even have the mere interest to know? You had designed a strategy, presented it, and no one paid any mind to you. 

But for the most part, you felt lonely. Had no one to talk to, nor go to whenever you needed your spirits to be lifted up.

Chaeryeong was busy busy with group projects and work. To the extent where she would get up at seven in the morning and come back at 12 pm. It wasn’t always like that, so you didn’t worry too much, but the fear she would wear herself off like usual still crowded your mind.

You close your office door with a sigh. Tired from everything, but somehow, your heart a little fuller, knowing that maybe you could use Jungkook in the future to give you a lift. Both figuratively and literally because he had offered to drive you home, being the gentleman he was.

“Why do you look like a sad puppy?” he asked you once you were sitting by his side in his very expensive and luxurious mercedes. Tinted windows and jet black shiny paint covered the outside of his car, the smell of air refresher and pinecone filling the inside. Mans was getting hotter by the minute.

“It’s friday night after the longest week of work. How can I not?” you put on your seat belt and lean back against the leather cushions. He pouts in response to you, with a concerned look on his face. 

For a second you wonder if he did this with most coworkers… being nice to them and offering them drives after having met them just a few times before. Kinda risky behviour, considering his position and squeaky clean reputation. You figure this would only last a bit before he realized he had more important things to be focusing on.

“Do you ever get chased home?” you ask randomly. 

With one hand on the wheel and the other leaned against his door he meditated on his response. “It happened once… And then I moved out, got a new car and everything. Shit was wild” he chuckles and you think that was the first time you had heard him curse, like ever. Jungkook, friendly and everything, wasn’t too big of a talker, but with you he found himself spilling, without giving it much thought. It felt refreshing to hear his voice and listen to his stories and the way he expressed himself. He was more interesting than he seemed, apparently. “Aren’t you hungry, by the way? We can have something to eat before i drop you off”

Traffic was hellish in Seoul everyday at every hour, and choosing to drive through Itaewon on a friday night wasn’t the smartest decision on Jungkook’s behalf, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that. Considering the demands of his job, he probably didn’t know his way around the city that well. You conclude taking a detour wouldn’t hurt. “I’m starving actually.”

He ends up taking you to a restaurant near your neighborhood you had mentioned being good and not crowded at all, the latter catching his attention immediately. It was a modest but nice place owned by a very funny and loud ahjussi. The man had lost count of how many times you had come down from your apartment at 11 pm and asked him to make you vegetarian tteokguk, but they were enough so that he could memorize your five orders by heart and the amount of saewoo mandu you could down by yourself in five minutes. You were making him rich at that point so the least he could do was comply when you gently asked him to shut the place down for you. Jungkook hadn’t asked you, but you knew how things could get awkward and dangerous quickly if too many people found out about him being there. “Ahjussi, you don’t have to” the boy protested as he noticed that the man had shut the blinds for him.

“It’s okay, boy. _____ has been single handedly paying the remnants of my mortgage for over a year now, I don't mind doing this for her.” he joked in his usual nature. already writing down your order and patiently waiting for Jungkook in front of you to voice out what he wanted for a meal. “And well, you and your friends are making our country proud, it’s the least i can do to thank you”

“Ah, thank you.” Jungkook bows to the older man. Your heart softened in your chest, seeing how considerate he was towards other people. He must be great with parents, you think. “Do you really not get that many people around here?” he asked worriedly once he sat back down on the wooden chair.

“We do! But she’s the one who comes the most often” he nods toward you and Jungkook smiles once he found your gaze, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. 

“Can you recommend me anything, miss?”

“Of course, sir. Yeol-ah, double up my order. Drinks are on me today.” You yell at the man’s son in the kitchen, who was still a bit older than you, but also close to enough to let you order him around shamelessly. You knew him quite well, actually. He was Chaeryeong’s boyfriend after all.

The tall boy pokes his head out of the kitchen door with a very confused expression plastered on his face. “Aren’t we supposed to close in like, an hour?” Chanyeol asks his dad in front of you.

“Just go cook, I'll explain later”.

The two men go back into the kitchen and Jungkook looks at you with an amused expression on his face. “What was that?” he laughs.

“I’m very popular, you know?” it probably wasn’t a good idea to go there, but you felt a little drunk on his voice that night, and you also knew your friend didn’t mind. “In fact, Chaereyong from ITZY is my best friend, who would have guessed?”

“Yeah and my son is her boyfriend, who cares?” Byung-ho yells back at you from the cashier, pulling a hiss from your lips. 

Jungkook still continued to stare at the both of you with confusion and intrigue, you guess he thought you were both joking.

“Wait, really?” he utters after a few seconds with big doe eyes and a pout on his lips, a combination that appeared when he was either confused or lying, which wasn’t the case then.

“Yes, my guy.” you laugh. “That juicy legged shortie is indeed my wife”

Jungkook loved the food, to say the least. It was all vegetarian and korean as fuck, a combination he never throught was possible, but downed like thristy camel. He was a loud eater, which was fitting of him and his politeness, something else you had noticed that night. You were the opposite, and actually despised the sounds of other people eating, yet, looking at him enjoying his meal so much made you feel full yourself. He made you feel like a kid in some ways too, brought back the times when being around others wasn’t so hard, and you still could have a sense of security around you. Talking to him was rather easy, maybe because of his welcoming nature, or because in fact he actually was interested in whatever stupid shit you were saying, something most people around you didn’t do. He also, amongst other things, seemed very interested in your job and the likes, always asking questions and absorbing information like a five year old. You had explained to him the five key steps of process design and the psychological effects on marketing in society to which he always responded with wide gentle eyes and attentive nods, not once looking bored or… annoyed in any way. 

Was he like that, with every girl? Because you weren’t anything special, there were many other girls who worked with him everyday and even if you hadn’t seen him in his work space, you could guess by the way most women in your company look at him whenever he passes by that either they were just as captivated as you by his beauty or that he had fucked them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was just trying to get into your pants either, it wouldn’t be the first time it happened to you nonetheless.

“I can walk from here, JK” you mention once you found yourselves walking towards the parking lot. A bit sad about the expense you had just made on food, it was your fault for trying to seem cool and rich, neither of which you were. 

“Oh no, I’m not letting you do that, girlie” he unlocks the door and gets in, not even letting you finish or allowing you to fight back.

“My apartment is literally a block away” you protest in the car anyways. You fear you had been too much of a bother, and deep down, didn’t want him to feel like you were seeking his presence unnecessarily.

“Well, good for you. But, you paid for the food, which was a lot, and i don’t want my sugar mommy walking by herself at 12 pm on a friday night” you first freeze, and then burst a very loud giggle.

“Whatever” you slap his bicep and roll your eyes. “ Next time you can pay if it bothers you so much.”

“So there will be a next time?” wide eyes stare back at you. “Count me in. I´ll pick where we will be going, just lemme know when so i can plan ahead” he rambles, a little too excited about your suggestion. 

He drops you off with a smile on his face and hopefulness in his eyes, promising to see you around the company. You, on the other hand, feel a tad confused as you enter your apartment building. What was going on? 

You had overthought things so much your entire life that it suddenly became too tiring to do. During the past few years you had to learn how to detach yourself and just ride the wave sometimes. Once you had turned eighteen, everything started moving at a very fast pace, the pressure of adulthood fell upon you like a brick and everything was so overwhelming that you started to simply let the course of your existence take you wherever it needed to.

That’s how you ended up going out with Jungkook at least once a week for dinner or a drive around the city for more than two months. Without even noticing, he became so engraved in your everyday life that whenever he’d cancel plans because of work, you’d find yourself with a void in your heart and a rush of boredom filling your senses. Even if you found yourself in your living room with the company of your best friend whom you had seen at most four times in the past two months, you were still wishing you could share that intimate space with him instead, willing to let him a bit more into your life, in hopes that maybe he would do the same. Sue you, you were curious over the most intricate details about his personality, how his personal sanctuary looked and if the smell of his room is just as good as his car’s. You could bet a thousand dollars (maybe a little less, considering the unconventionalism that characterizes him) that he also had a few plants that only remembered to water three out of seven days of the week. 

Hopefully life would draw you closer to more people like him.

"How's your boyfriend doing?" Chaeryeong asks you from the kitchen counter, sweet popcorn cooking in you popcorn-maker. 

You sigh. "What boyfriend?"

She was a lot of things but oblivious, and you weren't either, just when you chose to be. "Cut the bullshit, you know who i'm talking about". The fake red head waits for your response as she pours the snack into a big bowl, and you on the other hand take this as an advange to search around the room for answers.

"He's just a friend" you say. "And he's fine, i guess… He doesn't really talk much about himself" you mention, matter of factly.

Chaeryeong nods beside you, understanding what you meant. Then, proceeds to tell a tale about her experience meeting the dark haired boy. "He's literally so quiet, but like, so incredibly kind. Once he tripped over and fucked up some of the decoration at an award show" she grabs a popcorn and continues her story. "He looked so panicked I thought his eyes were about to jump out their sockets — His eyes are huge, by the way." 

"I know" you smile.

"My point is, he started to help the staff put everything back in order again. I think he's the only idol I've ever seen do something like that… i decided i liked him then" her beautiful features light up with mischief. "I bet he fucks great too."

You slap her leg. Hard.

"I'm only telling you this now so you don't get caught of guard when he actually manages to fuck you," her soft hands run through your messy hair, motherly touches easing the fluster in your body. "You know he's a big whore, right?" She adds after a while. 

You didn't. According to Chaeryeong, who seemed to keep tabs on every single colleague of hers, Jungkook had quite the body count, not that you didn't have your suspicions before. Frankly, she only knew of two girls inside her company who had had some sort of situationship with him, but for the same reason, she also knew he had some history with other girls from different groups. "Yikes" you laugh nervously, in admiration of their ability to remain calm and collected without giving anything away to the public.

Thanks to your friend, you had heard lots of tea about other singers in the korean industry before, most of which were not as sweet or kind as they portrayed themselves to be, some even using their social status to get their way with girls. But for some reason, Jungkook had never made his way to your gossipping sessions, nor any other of his band mates (except for Jimin, who, if you remember correctly, used to have some sort of beef with one of Chaeryeong's company members). You guess it was because of his unproblematic nature that people chose to give him a pass for his sexual endeavors, not that they were of anyone's concern either. 

A knock is heard against your office door. "Miss _____?" A girl with a brown bob cut pokes her head through it, the dim lights of your office shining upon her incredibly healthy locks. "Jungkook asked me to deliver this to you" sliding completely into the room, she places a box with a note on it on your desk.

"Thank you so much" you wave her off as she walks right out. 

The package had a strawberry flavored canned tea and a bento box inside. 

"I remember you telling me you'd never tried tofu pancakes before, so I made some for you last night. Hope you enjoy! - JK

P.S. Text me when you're done, maybe we can hang out tonight."

You felt like crying, in all honesty. The pancakes were heavenly, and he even added some slices of avocado and a few scoops of rice for you, despite not being the biggest fan of the fruit himself. With a warm heart and relief washing over your body because you wouldn't have to waste money on lunch that day, you had had half of your meal before said boy gave you a call.

"Did you like them?" He said almost immediately. "My assistant told me she already delivered them to you" he adds in a rush.

"Jesus boy, calm down." You giggle at his excitement. "Let me eat in peace".

"No, tell me right now." he demands with a fake angry voice. Cutie.

"They're alright".

"Figured… you have no sense of taste anyways" the hangs up. A giggle escapes your lips. Boy was something else.

Later that day, the weekend started it's course. Jungkook had offered to drive you to the Han River, careful to mention the fact he prepared a bunch of snacks for you two just about five times during your call. The place was almost empty, given that the rest of the city was doing something else more fun than staring at the night sky while sitting on itchy grass. Yet, you wouldn't change the setting for anything else. Usually, when you and Jungkook were out, he'd be in silent wary of your surroundings and the people who could be watching you. It broke your heart, knowing that most of the time he couldn't frequent places most regular people had the pleasure of enjoying, like the movies, for example, or a food stand in the middle of the street. Still, in that moment, the handsome man in front of you seemed as relaxed as ever, munching on grapes and strawberries as he sat in silence beside you. 

"This blanket is so soft, isn't it?" he commented all of a sudden, caressing the fabric with his hand. The thing was made out of polar fleece, no shit. You just nodded and grabbed a piece of fruit from his container. "One of my friends gifted it to me on my birthday" he adds.

"I know. It was me".

"Well, maybe you do have a sense of taste after all" he complies as he lays down on the surface, eyes facing the night sky above you.

"Says the one who uses toe socks" you say back, poking his weak spot.

Instead of going back and forth with you as he usually would, he just winks and closes his eyes. He looked so peaceful and serene beneath you, features carefully carved on his face and slightly blushed cheeks from the cold wind. Jungkook was like that, randomly over confident and flirty with you, but just as quickly would refrain from even disagreeing with you in the first place, scared that you would snap at him. He hadn't told you this, but the way you saw thoughts hidden in his eyes whenever you made a statement let you know his true intentions, leaving you to wonder where that came from.

"Are you tired?" You ask after a few minutes. Still with his eyes closed, Jungkook denies.

"I just don't want to look at you right now," he turns to the side, back facing you as an offended expression finds its way to your face.

"Yah" you slap his back playfully, not letting him finish.

"Because you look too pretty." he mumbles the remnants of  his statement.

Your breath catches in your throat as a shiver climbs its way down your spine. Why was he like that? He had no right tugging on your heart strings like that (if he was being serious in the first place because you never knew with him). You sigh, the blush his words provoked stinging your cheeks.

"You're supposed to say I'm pretty too" he turns around with a playful smile, expectant.

"You just go around giving compliments so you can get them back?" you hiss. "Why so insecure?"

"I'm not insecure, at all." He sits up again, ready to fight you and anyone who dares question the grandiosity of the confidence he had worked so hard for. "You can ask Linh about that".

To say you looked horrified was an understatement, hopeful that what you thought he meant was not it. "You fucked Linh?"

"Well, that's not for you to know". 

What a gentleman, you think. And at the same time, ouch. He had just slammed a door on your face.

"That would explain the way she looks at you whenever you come by the office" you realize. Frankly, the girl looked a bit too panicked whenever Jungkook decided to barge into your space, usually bored out of his mind during his english lessons, laptop and notebook in hand, or struggling to get the questions right. 

"Well good afternoon to you too" you ironically greeted once he sat in front of you, frustration written on his face. Linh, who stood by your side, suddenly fidgeting with the papers in her hand.

"Not the time, _____" he slammed both hands on your desk, startling you and your friend beside you. "Why the fuck did you make me enroll into this in the first place?" 

"I did not make you do anything, dude. I just gave you an idea" you excused yourself, eyes back on your computer. You didn't miss the way Jungkook's eyes briefly followed Linh out the room, though. 

His eyes looked back at you, leg bouncing impatiently on the floor as he leaned back with a pissed off expression on his face. You'd never seen him this way, so you took that as a cue to enter under paid therapist mode. "What's wrong?" You questioned gently.

"I feel incredibly incompetent right now." His hands roamed across his face with frustration. A sigh escaped his lips as he held tears back. "School's always been this way for me, always trying my best and constantly underachieving" he explained.

He was obsessed with winning, you’d even go as far to say more than he was with his job (which was a lot). It didn’t root from narcissistic behaviour though, but rather out of external pressure to constantly overachieve and exceed expectations. He was mostly good at doing that, but everyone had an achilles heel, yours was reading for example, his was studying and school.

"Jungkook, you passed most of your classes with more than 90%, what are you talking about?" a fact he had brought up to you randomly when you mentioned absolutely nearly failing most of your literature classes.

"Yeah, except for English." he shook his head in the way he would when he'd feel conflicted or insecure. "I don't know what i'm doing wrong".

"Did you fail something?" you tried to get some more insight into the situation, still unsure of where all his worries came from.

"No, there's just this sentence I can't properly put together" he turned his notebook towards you. "Ah, just look"

There were some words he had to conjugate and properly place in order to form a grammatically correct sentence, more than five attempts written in neat penmanship on the page evidenced the boy's battle with the assignment. He missed one very important aspect of it, though. "There's a fucking word that's missing, dude" you explain, grabbing the pen from his hand and showing him where the mistake was. "It's not your fault, it's the teacher's".

Jungkook's serious expression didn't go away though. "Well, damn".

You had some sort of emotional trauma with having people ask you for help, it made you think that they didn’t actually care for you as a person but rather just your skills. That was the way you’d grown up and what your position in society seemed to be as well, the one you could butter up and taste when you got bored. Heart had been broken many times too, whenever you’d realize what you thought to be a genuine connection was merely pure interest. Those thoughts clouded your head when Jungkook would randomly enter your office with a frustrated expression on his face, yet, that occurred less often than it didn’t. 

Jungkook was not someone to establish relationships and bonds out of interest, you knew that. Or maybe not, truth be told, he was an authentic enigma, so open yet so closed and shielded from others to see through, and that didn’t exclude you most of the time, hence your wish for him to let you in a bit more before you could allow yourself to free fall into whatever was going on between you both.

You reach for the fabric of his hoodie, tugging his sleeve with your fingers just because you really liked the color of it, and maybe because you wanted to feel closer to him. He doesn’t react to your touch, just looks at your hands briefly as they play with the edges of his clothing. “Where did you get this from?”

“An online store, I think.” he replies softly, reaching for your hand on his arm, caressing the surface of your nails. “It’s a unisex brand, i can send you their link afterwards.”

“Is it too expensive?” you inquire, not only to keep the moment afloat, but because you genuinely liked most of his pieces of clothing, especially his hoodies and shoes. Jungkook laughs at your question and looks at you with a smile.

“I don’t think i would know, ____. I’m rich.” he says, playfully. And he was right, what was expensive for you might just be cheap as fuck for him, you wonder if when a lot of money is in your hands you start to become very tuned out from what’s affordable or not anymore.

“True.”

“I can buy you one, though. I don’t mind.” he adds. Soft look in his eyes, a pure and genuine offer that you had to deny.

“I didn’t say i wanted one” you lie, only partially, because although you’d not mentioned it, you did actually want it. “I just think it’s pretty” you finally let go of him.

“Or do you think I look pretty in it?” he pushes, a sucker for compliments.

“Yeah, that might be it.” you admit, because there was no point in denying your irrefutable attraction to the man, as much as you hated to be vulnerable, especially in front of him.

“I think it would look prettier on you”.

Don´t copy or repost please. by studiojeon on tumblr.

[girls4keigo]

A Bird Whisperer’s Guide to Fighting Villains and Falling in Love | Hawks x Hero!Reader

Summary: Hawks needs help to defeat an upcoming hero attack in Tokyo. What better hero to ask than the one he’s been crushing on for months

Warnings: F!Reader, Hero!Reader, Fluff, Cursing

Reader plays hard to get. Reader has a nature quirk and can control natural elements and talk to animals. Reader is a popular hero

a/n: hi! this is my first post i hope you all enjoy! :)

————

You sighed, trying to keep your composure while talking to a bunch of big name heroes. The fundraiser events that your agency made you go to were unbearable. Standing around for hours listening to the most mundane heroes try to impress you with their line of work. But hey, if it helps boost approval ratings I guess it’s not that bad.

For the past year you’ve slowly been climbing the ranks of the hero world. With a powerful quirk and unique fighting styles it was hard to go unnoticed. By now you were familiar with how the industry treated female heroes. It seemed as if the general public cared about anything but your hero duties.

It was all love, relationships, “Who are you dating?”, “What’s your skincare routine?”

You honestly didn’t expect any different but geez, it sure did piss you off. And now that you were in the top 3, you weren’t expecting any of it to die down. Might as well just get used to it.

You continued to chat when suddenly your ear twitched as you sensed a certain birdie approaching.

Oh God.

“Hey. Mind if I steal ya away for a little?” Hawks’ signature smirk appeared on his face as he approached you.

Hawks seemed to really be latching onto you for quite some time, well since the new hero rankings were announced. You were on your way to surpassing the number 2 hero and had gained a lot of notoriety in the past couple of months. 

He was clingy for sure, always play flirting, inviting you to lunch, showing up at your agency unannounced. It was obvious that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. You’d be surprised if he admitted to actually having feelings for you. Well, not that you cared anyways. Your job was to save civilians, defeat villains, and do things that any other normal hero would. Love was simply not on your agenda.

Holding back a heavy sigh, you complied and stepped off to the side with Hawks.

He seemed delighted by your decision, using his feathers to fetch you a glass of champagne off of one of the caterer’s trays as you two walked over to the bar area.

“So your agency makes you come to these lame things too, huh?”

You didn’t answer, not very interested in the direction that the conversation was going in.

“You look nice.” He bit his lower lip, dragging his eyes vertically across your figure.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking a sip of your champagne.

After you both had made your way over to the bar he instructed his order to the bartender, asking you if you wanted anything and keeping the same dumb smirk on his face when you denied.

“Rarely ever see you in a color other than green. I mean, I guess it’s your entire thing but I really dig this red look you’ve got goin’ on” He mused, as he watched the bartender carefully make his drink.

He wasn’t lying. He’s been eyeing you since you walked in, you look good.

“What do you want, Hawks?” You asked, visibly annoyed.

“Damn.” He chuckled, “Small talk isn’t your thing, noted.”

You side-eyed him, getting impatient with his overly relaxed demeanor.

Catching the hint, he got straight to the point. “There’s some trouble going on in Tokyo.”

Now you were intrigued. You took another sip of your champagne, “Petty villain attacks like always, isn’t it?”

You turned towards him, he got a good look at your face before he answered.

Fucking pretty, he thought to himself.

“That’s what I thought at first but it’s getting harder to believe that as I do more digging.” He looks around before inching closer to you, trying to keep his volume to a minimum. “The League is planning something big next week. The ‘Rain of Terror’, they’re callin’ it. They’re trying to ease the amount of big attacks in the city to let our gaurds down. And frankly, I think it’s working.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve got connections,” Was all he said, with a shrug.

Ok, whatever. You’ll confront him about that later. “And this ‘Rain of Terror…’ what does it entail?”

“Bombs.”

“Shit,” You muttered.

“Big ones. Huge ones, actually. I don’t know how the fuckers did it but they found a way to make these huge, bioengineered clouds that ‘rain’ bombs.”

You grew uneasy. Raining bombs? Over the entirety of Tokyo? The amount of destruction it would do to the earth, to civilians, made you panic. Hawks sensed your uneasiness but continued anyways, “I want us to team up. Your quirk would be useful with the entire controlling nature n’ weather thing.”

He loosened up from his serious expression, talking a bit louder and showing a teethy smile, “Plus I think we’d make a pretty good team. I’ve already got a plan so we’ll meet up at yours tomorrow.”

“As in my house? Why not anywhere else?” You questioned.

“Well,” He grabbed his drink and used his free hand to rub the back of his heck, “This isn’t really the typa thing we can talk about in public. Mass hysteria, panic, that type of thing. And my living situation is pretty…complicated right now.”

You felt a small tap on your shoulder, followed by the voice of your high school aged sidekick. You turned to the younger hero. “Uh..Y/N? It’s time to go. I gotta be back by 11.”

You sighed before turning back to Hawks.

“Kids and their curfews, right?” He commented.

“Fine. I’ll have my agency send you my address. Don’t come during the day.” That was the last thing you said before finishing your drink all in one quick sip and making your way to the exit. You could feel his eyes on your backside until you left the venue. And the singular scarlet feather rushing in front of you to open the car door for you was really the cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes.

“Woah.” Your sidekick mused, “He seems to really like you. You should give him a chance, he’s hot.”

You giggled at her comment, “He doesn’t really like me, y’know? He flirts with every female hero.”

—

You heard a slight tap on the window leading up to your balcony. You already sensed him flying towards you when he was about a mile away, but your bedroom? Reluctantly you walked over and opened the sliding door.

“Never heard of a front door?”

“Well that’s no fun, is it?” He said, displaying his signature smirk. You looked cute out of your hero clothes. Hair tied up and messy, and in big comfy clothes.

Adorable, he thought to himself. He walked in as if it was his own befroom, slipping off his shoes, gloves and jacket and placing them in the corner of your room.

“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You deadpanned at him, “And we’re still going downstairs anyways.” He shrugged.

He couldn’t help but be taken aback by the layout of your room. There were plants in almost every corner, on every shelf. Vines growing on your walls, half read books strewn across your bedside table and dresser, your pet birds of all different shaped and sizes flew freely around your room, chirping every once in a while. “So you’re a bird whisperer, huh?” He said, looking around.

“I’m an animal whisperer.” You said, “That’s kind of like my entire thing.”

He let out a hearty laugh before making his way out of your room.

“Tea?” You asked, heading towards the kitchen as the winged hero made himself comfortable on your couch.

“Sure.” He picked up your remote with one his feathers, flicking through the channels.

He turned his attention to you a couple moments later as you took a seat across from him at your coffee table, setting down two mugs of green tea.

He explained his plan carefully, paying close attention to all details and pausing for any questions you might have. You had to admit, as much as an annoying asshole this guy could be, he knew what he was doing. You could tell he plans his strategies very carefully, as much as he likes to come off as lazy and laid back to the general public. He was a damn good hero. And you hated admitting it but he was right, utlizing his speed and your ability to control weather, it wouldn’t be all that hard to stop villain attacks.

Hawks also couldn’t help but admire you. You seemed attentive, always paying close attention to detail and asking a lot of questions. I mean he already knew you were good at your job, watching some of the viral videos of your fights with villains.

—

When the day finally came, it went as smoothly as planned, of course with a little bumps along the way. Still, the few civilians that were hurt only had minor injuries, and you and hawks made it so only a couple bombs hit the ground.

You, Hawks, and some other minor heroes who had joined mid-battle regrouped to talk about how to resolve the collateral damage.

“It’s not too much to be honest, I’ll have it all repaired by midni-“

“Wow! What an incredible display of courage from Hawks and Mother Nature, currently sitting at number 2 and number 3 of Japan’s Hero BillBoard Chart!” A loud reporter exclaimed, accompanied by a camera crew.

Of course.

You tried your best to ignore and keep talking to fellow heroes until a microphone was shoved in your face. The face of the reporter gleamed as she talked to you. “Tell me Mother Nature, how does it feel working with number 2 hero Hawks?” You winced at the question, but answered nevertheless.

“Hawks is a  diligent hero with a lot of experience under his belt despite being so young. It was great working with him.” You answered, forcing a smile on your face.

“There’s speculation that you two planned this together..is this true? How were you able to predict this attack? More importantly, are you two dating?” Those questions hit you like a truck.

“Um..no comment.” Was all you could answer with.

Nevertheless, the reporter persisted, “Well there has to be something going on. It’s just my opinion but you two seem perfect for each other.” She giggled at the camera, “Please! The public is dying to know!”

Before you could even muster up an answer to the reporter’s overwhelming question, a giant scarlet wing came between you and the reporter, blinding both her and the camera from your view.

“Hey. She said she doesn’t wanna talk about it. Let’s respect personal boundaries, yeah?” Hawks said in a nice but slightly defensive tone.

You blushed, looking up at him. As nice we he was trying to sound, he looked angry. And damn right he was. How dare they talk to you like you’re no more than just some D-list celebrity? You’re a fucking hero, who cares about dating speculation when you just saved Japan’s largest city? And how dare they ask questions about him when you were the one doing most of the work. He was enraged, and it was his natural instinct to protect the thing he cared for.

Before you knew it, he latched his arms around your waist, pushing you into his chest.

You were flustered. “What are you-“

“Let’s go.” Was all he said before flapping his wings, sending you guys soaring through the air.

You held on to him for dear life, damn was he fast.

Hawks smirked to himself, feeling your rapid heartbeat against his chest. You were trying your best to hide your blushing by burying your face in his neck, granted that probably made it worse because he could already tell by how hot your face was.

God, she’s adorable

As soon as you two landed on top of a building, you pushed him away as quickly as possible.

He chuckled, putting both of his hands up in defense, “You’re the one making this awkward y’know? Plus you owe me for saving your ass.”

You were angry. Was it because of the downright rude questions that the reporter asked you not too long ago, was it because you knew tabloids would be posting all about you and Hawks for the next couple of days, was it because you were..warming up to that damned bird?

And then you started. “Just so you know, this..us..is not a thing. It will never be a thing. I wish you’d just stop flirting with me all the damn time. Just move on to the next female hero. I actually don’t care what you do. Just leave me alone. I don’t understand why you have to be so clingy, it’s annoying.”

Hawks did nothing but smile, listening to you ramble.

“You know…I-“ He interjected, only to be interrupted by you.

“And geez, you’re so goddamn entitled. I owe you? I don’t owe you anything. I didn’t even need your help. You’re no different from any other guy, you’re fucking insuffer-“

Hawks shut you up with a gentle kiss on your lips.

Oh.

“You talk too much.” He said in a low whisper, before pulling on your chin to kiss you again. You kissed him back, resting your hands on his chest, completely indulging in the moment.

Fuck. Your knees were weak. As much as you wanted to keep going you pulled away, blushing furiously and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Oh? So now you’re shy?” He chuckled, pulling you closer to him. He tried to catch your gaze but you just moved your head away from him each time.

“Someone might see us. This is bad,” You were able to muster out.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He said, making you blush even more. He continued, “I don’t flirt with you for no reason, y’know? Sure, sometimes it’s just to tease..but I think you’re amazing.”

You felt like you were melting in his arms. Unable to find the right words, you panicked. You were gone in seconds, manipulating the wind so it could carry you back home, the same stupid blush unable to leave your face.

“Call me!” He yelled.

That damn bird.

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Do you have any autistic Scout headcanons? :P

Hell yeah!

I’ve actually thought about this a lot. A lot of people might think that Scout has ADHD, but I think he either has both ADHD and autism or just autism.

This is both because labeling Scout as having just ADHD is kind of a low-hanging fruit, and I also want to explore his symptoms a little more. So, in a word, I do, and thank you for asking about them!

*****************

Scout’s Spectrum:

So, where exactly does Scout fall on the autism spectrum?

First of all, he probably has both ADHD and autism, but wasn’t diagnosed with the latter until much later. This means that some of his symptoms were taken into account, but not all.

The ones that were paid attention to ramped up out of control, and the ones he didn’t hear about were stuffed away.

His ADHD symptoms include impulsiveness, need for stimulation, hyperfixations, forgetfulness, and insomnia; his autism symptoms include trouble with social skills, stimming, near inability to remember names and faces, lack of eye contact, hyperfixations again, and sensory processing issues, especially with noise and touch.

He used to have a lot of meltdowns when he was younger, usually about wearing new clothes and the amount of noise his eight brothers generated.

However, he was teased and pushed into masking nearly all the time, and made his whole personality about his ADHD, since that was what everyone accepted.

As he got older, he usually wrote off any autistic tendencies as either his ADHD or just “little habits” of his.

During his middle school years, he used energy drinks to bounce back from being exhausted every day after school. This would work, except those energy drinks would upset his ADHD, and would make it much harder to focus on even basic conversation.

After a while, he got such bad grades and had such a hard time making friends that Scout just stopped going to school altogether.

Baseball helped his focus, and the quick movement and thinking made a lot of sense to him. He never had to wait very long for the next development, and the instant gratification and community it provided supplemented what he never got at school.

With sports on his side, he rarely ever drank any energy drinks (the coach would never let them on the field), and he drank bucketfuls of water during every meet and game. Those teenage years were probably the healthiest he ever was.

However, with the amount of rumbles he got into with his brothers, and the turf wars that constantly raged in those neighborhoods, it was only a matter of time before his crime caught up with him.

After his first incarceration, he was booted from the team, which led to a downward spiral of unhealthy coping mechanisms - which included fighting someone tooth and nail whenever he could.

Even if he lost the fight, it not only catered to his impulsive nature and impatience, but also gave him roughly the same sense of friendship and camaraderie that baseball had.

One thing led to another, and by the time Mann Co. found him, Scout was a monster in hand to hand (and bat to bat) and had racked up quite the criminal record.

A perfect mercenary, ripe for the picking.

On The Team:

Scout very quickly adopted the “stupid, scrappy Boston boy” persona.

It was the only thing that made sense, and it kept him from having to try too hard in both the battlefield and socially.

Besides, that meant that he could be as silly, forgetful, and fidgety as he wanted, and no one would bat an eye.

And if he ever needed to take a break from the team, he figured everyone would appreciate the quiet.

The only thing that ever gave him away was him occasionally dissociating right when battle began, especially if the day had been stressful.

It was usually how he calmed down after a fight when he was young, but now he sometimes slid into that state when he was overwhelmed.

However, a yell from one of his teammates would usually snap him out of it.

Medic noticed this pretty early on, and wanted to look more into it, but Scout would keep making excuses not to get a mental examination.

He would blame it on zoning out, being tired, drinking too many Bonks - whatever it took for people to stop asking.

And, eventually, they did.

Even Medic stopped asking after a while - he couldn’t get a thing out of Scout.

This “try so little that when you do try it’s above average” charade worked for a long time. In fact, it went on for so long that Scout forgot how much he was actually capable of.

He began to internalize the stupidity, the exacerbation, the many comments on how dumb he was, everything.

The only time he ever gave his all was on the battlefield - moving fast, memorizing strategies, doing complicated footwork, knowing exactly how much force it took to crush someone’s skull with his bat.

That was one of the only things that he felt good doing, the only thing he could really work on without him being “found out.”

That and drawing, though he never showed the actual pieces to anyone. It was all stick figures and crooked lines with everyone else.

Sometimes, though, Scout wouldn’t be paying attention and he’d let something slip.

One time, Engineer was looking for his screwdriver, and couldn’t seem to find it anywhere.

Scout, not looking up from his comic, said, “Under the couch cushion, hard hat.”

Engineer bent down and reached into the couch, and his hand came back with his red and yellow striped screwdriver.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

At first Engineer thought Scout had just hid it, but Scout explained, still not paying attention:

“Last time we went out on th’ field, you had it on your belt, like always. But I was walkin’ by your workshop, you were usin’ a quarter to tighten a screw or somethin’. Your screwdriver had to be somewhere between the battlefield and your workshop. Engie, you’re like freakin’ clockwork. Every day, after a fight, you go to the kitchen, get a water, go to that couch, between the second and third cushion from the left, and sit there. Then ya go back to the fridge to get lunch and a beer, and ya go to your workshop until somebody needs you for somethin’. Your back loop in your tool belt is looser than all the others, ‘cause the screwdriver pulls against it when you sit down. The shank was probably in between the two cushions, and when you got up, it fell in. Demo, Pyro, and Heavy all sit on the second or third cushion at some point, so it got shimmied down. And since that’s the only time you sat down, ‘cause you woulda heard it if it dropped on the floor, and I…uh…”

“I’ll be damned,” Engie repeated, and felt the back tool belt loop. It was indeed loose.

Scout finally looked up, and realized what had happened.

“Uh, uh - l-lucky guess, huh Engie?”

Engineer squinted behind his goggles. “Yeah…real lucky…”

What ensued was Engie trying to get Scout to turn into a B.L.U Spy by chasing him around with his wrench. After a few good hits, though, Engineer saw that it was the teammate he knew and loved.

“But…how didja…?”

Scout threw his hand up, the other rubbing the back of his head where he’d been hit.

“I toldja Engie! Lucky guess! Jesus!”

Ever since then, Scout chose his words more carefully.

The Breakdown:

But, unfortunately, Scout could not pretend forever.

There was one week where Scout’s assignment count was so high that, if he wasn’t in a fight, he was on a mission.

Usually, Pauling wouldn’t trust him with so much, but no one else was available - or willing - to do the jobs.

Even when she was getting concerned about the amount of hours Scout was putting in, he blew it off.

“It’s no sweat, Miss Pauling! Their practically givin’ me the pay day. Those yahoos don’t know who they’re messin’ with.”

Over time, though, Scout had a harder and harder time staying focused and alert.

He’d sleep through alarms, stare off into space, zone out completely during briefing (not that he didn’t already do that), have a hard time hearing people in battle - even through his headset - ignore Spy’s taunts, and even forget to bring his bat onto the field.

Nothing seemed to help - Bonk!, warming up, stretching, cold showers, setting reminders, nothing.

And the team was starting to notice.

At first it was with the regular frustration - maybe Scout was just being lazy.

But as time went on, and his condition grew worse, their scorn turned into worry. They implored Medic to do something, but he had no way of getting through to Scout.

The doctor wasn’t above simply sedating him and dragging him into his lab for a check-up. However, he had a feeling that this was more than a physical issue.

The worst came when Scout was doing a routine battle with the B.L.U team on the field.

Everything had started out okay - he even remembered to bring his bad this time - but suddenly, everything was ear-splittingly loud.

He couldn’t focus on more than one sound at once, much less communicate the best course of action to his teammates.

He ended up hiding in a dilapidated shed, in a dusty, dark corner, somewhere between zoning out and panicking.

Scout’s head was in his knees, he was shaking, close to crying, when a sudden splitting of wood roused him.

A B.L.U Soldier had kicked his way into the shed, either having heard Scout or to hide from the other team.

Scout was stunned at first, but something of a blind terror filled him. He picked up his bat, screamed, and started pummeling the surprised Soldier.

At some point, he threw aside his bat and began to swing punch after punch, just like he did in his gang days when he had felt overwhelmed. Still screaming. Still crying.

By the time Scout had dissolved into a rocking, sobbing mess, the Soldier was long dead, with a gigantic pool of blood staining Scout’s shoes.

No one even knew where Scout was until a few hours later, when Spy heard a faint note of “Sexbomb” coming from Scout’s Walkman.

Scout had crawled into the shed’s framework, between the outer and inner wall, and was playing a specific verse over and over and over again, looking like he was on another plane of existence.

Spy immediately called for Medic, who had to lift Scout out by the underarms through a jagged hole in the side of the building. By then, the fight was over, so they could take him directly to the lab.

Medic’s Evaluation:

“I’m guessing zhis is your first mental breakdown?”

“Mental…doc, I ain’t crazy. Wait, you’re not goin’ to put me in a straight jacket, are ya?”

“If you’re not doing anyzhing later.”

Medic started to laugh, but quickly realized this might not be the time.

“No, Scout, everyvun has a mental breakdown at least vunce in their lives. It’s a…how do you say…a vake-up call of sorts. Vhen your body has no other options left.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“For zhe past few months, you health, both physical and mental, has been deteriorating. You eat less. You talk less. Your attacks are lackluster. You have bags under your eyes. You flinch vhen somevun yells for you. You stare off into space. Your routine, vhich usually has at least some changes, has become stringent, as if you can’t possibly expend any more energy into extra activities. You have avoided Demoman on zhe battlefield, even though you usually use him for cover.”

Medic flipped through his notes.

“I have pages and pages of your decline. However, as a scientist, I believe it is caused by zhe same source. And, though I usually respect my patient’s right to privacy vhen it comes to these sorts of matters, I believe you’ve been keeping something from me. Something that I should know as your general practitioner…your doctor.”

Scout shrugged, already shutting out the conversation.

Medic sighed.

“Maybe I tried to talk to you about zhis too soon. After all, you’ve just had a very sudden and exhausting episode. But…perhaps…”

Medic took a sheet of printer paper from his clipboard and a spare pen from his pocket.

“…zhere is an alternative.”

Scout was still unresponsive, but Medic continued.

“Zhere is a patient in my vaiting room vis a metal pole through the chest. It vill take me at least an hour to properly remove it, and a few minutes more to heal zhe area. Vhile I do zhat, vhy don’t you draw how you feel?”

Medic smiled.

“I know how much it grounds you.”

It wasn’t until Medic left that Scout actually picked up the pen, but he began drawing immediately.

For the first time in a while, he wasn’t trying to hide his strokes or scratch up the cleaner lines. No more stick figures. No more pretending.

Five minutes later, he was fully engrossed.

Medic started to walk in at one point, but, seeing how relaxed Scout was, decided to give him a few more minutes.

He deserved it.

[sunfish-studies]

Addition

✄・・・ Patterns [Haikyuu!! Military Police AU]

➜ Pairing: Oikawa x Reader | Iwaizumi x Reader | Kageyama x Reader | Hinata x Reader | Kuroo x Reader | Bokuto x Reader | Akaashi x Reader | Sawamura x Reader

➜ Warning: violence (sparring and missions), possible mentions of blood and bleeding, guns, knives, possible descriptive/mentions of injuries

➜ Notes: this short series is inspired by Gusari’s HQ 3rd Fanbook | you can assume everyone’s aged up | the reader is a female and the same age as the third years of HQ | this will be mostly platonic (bcs I suck at writing romance)

[Art by Gusari]

↷ SUMMARY ↶

Being acknowledged as one of the best in your division is an honor and led you to take a higher step towards being number one. Maybe after seeing your ambition and skill despite your gender, Mr. Irihata and Mr. Nekomata decided to moved you to the special squad.

“Wow, a new recruit!?”

“A girl!?”

Your first impression would be ‘too much testosterone in one room’–exactly as you describe in the sentence, only male population occupied the space whereas you’re the only female there was. Mr. Irihata and Mr. Nekomata deemed it would be a great time to introduce you to the squad you’ll be working with so here you were, standing near the door and trying so hard not to squirm on your toes.

Instantly, pairs of eyes focused on your figure once you stepped in their line of sight–surely, your appearance is similar to a sore thumb.

“Today, she will be working with you as a part of the team,” Mr. Irihata announced, gesturing his hand to you. “Introduce yourself, soldier.”

Automatically, you took a step forward and saluted with neutral gaze. “Otohaku [Name] from Miyagi’s Female Division, pleased to meet you.”

That’s how your adventure started.

You’ve known Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Kageyama the longest. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have been your best friends ever since you three were still freshmen–often trained together, discussing about strategies, and many more other than just talking about work in general. You’re thankful for them because in your personal training, they didn’t pull their punches which resulting you have more strength than your peers.

Even after you’re being separated because of divisions, your friendship didn’t waver even for a bit.

When they found out, you’re joining the squad they were more delighted than any other. Oikawa cheered and immediately jumped onto you out of excitement, rubbing his cheek against yours as you patted his back. Iwaizumi threw an arm around you and grinned widely. It’s nice to finally work together with your boys. Most of the time, you spend your time with the two in the base or when you’re free.

Meanwhile, Kageyama is your junior. During his time as a freshman, you’re chosen to be his mentor and trying his best to guide him. He’s extremely talented, towering over his peers when it came to skill in sniping and gun wielding. However, he was second to none when socializing suddenly involved. You tried your best to help him getting used, coaxed him into simple conversations, inviting him to eat with you during lunch or dinner. Your kindness is like no other and that’s why Kageyama is attached to you.

After knowing you will be working together with him, happiness is an understatement. He congratulated you in a lot of stutters and stiffened once you pulled him into a hug. Although it’s only a few seconds before he completely melted into your warmth. Kageyama found himself constantly trailing over you and tried his best to be around you as often as possible–which you found cute.

Kuroo, Bokuto, and you were placed in the same team–the mobility team. The three of you have the highest score when it comes to movements, parkours, and close combat. Kuroo was a polite gentleman at first, but once you’re close with each other he turned into a menace–teasing you endlessly, poking your cheek just to annoy you, and many more.

Bokuto is a beaming ball of energy which seemed to never ran out. He was an outspoken person who doesn’t afraid to ask straightforwardly if something’s nagging his mind. You were the person he would go to if he wanted to hear praises because he knew you always give it to him. He didn’t hesitate to be touchy or clingy towards you–physical contact is something he loves and you always let him hug you whenever he wanted.

Being in the same team with the same field, you three practices together more often than any other. While Kuroo is an expert in hand-to-hand, Bokuto and you are intense in using your legs–especially you who learned gymnastics once, your flexibility is challenging for them because it makes your moves even more unpredictable.

Hinata is a ball of sunshine, bright and warm and always lightened up your day. He looked up to you because he himself is rather amateur, but with his amazing stamina and reflexes he became the part of the team. He often seeks directions and advises from you and you didn’t mind teaching him or having extra practice with him. Who were you to deny his eagerness? When he did a good job, you never forgot to award him with head pats, something he enjoyed the most.

Akaashi is a rather quiet person, which makes him your safe place. He lets you pour out whatever seemed to frustrated you in a private conversation shared between just the two of you–in return, you did the same for him, listening to what’s nagging him. You two comfort each other. Akaashi sometimes helped you in practicing your sniping skills, he’s a great teacher and you found yourself improved tremendously from his help. When Akaashi needs a relieve, he will go to you, sitting beside you and just drops his head on your shoulder–you will stroke his hair and he will calm down from the simple gesture.

Sawamura is your hard-working-and-overly-stressed captain. Your existence is a blessing to him because in between the menaces of the team deprived of logic and normality, you’re a fresh air. You listen, pay attention, and obeying his orders–something he forgot how it supposed to feel. In return, he tried his best to assist you in anyway possible. Engaging a conversation with him is easy–he’s extremely wise for his age, whenever you need advices or encouragements, he’s the one you will go to.

Despite being the only female there is, the team never once disrespects you. They set you in high regards, acknowledging your skills, including you in discussions–gender is already passed their mind. They treated you equally, could be seen when they never pulled out their punches when it came to sparring with you–they went all out every single time, the same for you.

They didn’t see you as someone who needs to be placed in the back–you’re never given a minor role in missions, all of them were given to you because they knew you’re capable. Not once they thought you’re fragile or need protection, you could defend yourself well.

Still, they had unspoken boundaries–averting their gaze when practice shirt clung to your figure and literally shaped it (Kuroo pointed out that your chest is huge and he received a painful smack on the head by Iwaizumi along with withering glares from the rest), draping a jacket or clothing over you so you could cover up, never burst into your room without permission, requesting to build a separate room and laundry room just for you to respect your privacy, and many more.

(They consumed respect women juice 25/8)

Safe to say, you weren’t complaining about anything in this team and living you’re life the fullest as a part of it.

[itsclydebitches]

I keep seeing people calling Good Omens queer bating and a I can't help but ask why? I read the Aziraphale/Crowley relationship threw an Ace lens and they are clearly as close to married as they are probably going to get without stepping on holy ground.... and they love each other... why is it considered queer bating?

Personally, I think it's mostly young queer fans turning legitimate grievances on the wrong target. A case of getting so fed up with queerbaiting in media as a whole that they're instinctually lashing out at anything that seems to resembles it on the surface, without taking the time to consider whether this is, in fact, the thing they're mad at. Good Omens is a scapegoat, if you will. The equivalent of snapping at your partner after a long day. Your friend was an asshole, your boss was an asshole, the guy in traffic was an asshole, and then you come home to your partner who says something teasing and you take it as another asshole comment because you've just been surrounded by assholeness all day, to the point where your brain is primed to see an attack. Your partner wasn't actually an asshole, but by this point you're (understandably) too on guard to realize that. Unless someone sits you down and kindly reminds you of the difference between playful teasing and a legitimate insult - the nuance, if you will - your hackles are just gonna stay up and you'll leave the room, off to phone a different friend to tell them all about how your partner was definitely an asshole to you.

Only in this case, that "friend" is a fan on social media doing think pieces on the supposed queerbaiting of Good Omens, spreading that idea to a) people who aren't familiar with the show themselves and b) those who, like that original fan, have come to expect queerbaiting and thus aren't inclined to question the latest story with that mark leveled against it. Because on the surface Good Omens can look a lot like queerbaiting. Here are two queer coded characters who clearly love each other, but don't say "I love you," don't kiss, don't "prove" that love in a particular way. So Gaiman is just leading everyone on, right?

Well... no. This is where the nuance comes in, the thing that many fans aren't interested in grappling with (because, like it or not, media is not made up of black and white categories; queerbaited and not-queerbaited. Supernatural's finale is proof enough of that...) I won't delve into the most detailed explanation here, but suffice to say:

Gaiman has straight up said it's a love story. He's just not giving them concrete labels like "gay" or "bi" or "asexual," etc. because they are literally not human. Gaiman has subscribed to an inclusive viewpoint in an era where fans are desperate for unambiguous rep that homophobes cannot possibly deny. The freedom to prioritize any interpretation - yes, including a "just friends" interpretation - now, in 2021, feels like a cop-out. However, in this case it's an act of world building (they are an angel and a demon, not bound by human understanding of identity) meeting a genuine desire to make these characters relatable to the entire queer community, not just particular subsets. Gaiman has said they can be whatever we want because the gender, sexuality, and romantic attraction of an angel and a demon is totally up for debate! However, some fans have interpreted that as a dismissal of canonical queerness; the idea that fans can pretend they're whatever they want... but it's definitely not canon. It is though. Them being queer is 100% canon, it's just up to us to decide what kind of queer they are. This isn't Gaiman stringing audiences along, it's him opening the relationship up to all queer possibilities.

We know he's not stringing us along (queerbaiting) because up until just a few days ago season two didn't exist. Queerbaiting is a deliberate strategy to maintain an audience. A miniseries does not need to maintain its audience. You binge it in one go and you're done, no coming back next year required. The announcement for season two doesn't erase that context for season one. No one knew there would be more content and thus the idea that they would implement a strategy designed to keep viewers hooked due to the hope for a queer relationship (with no intent to follow through) is... silly.

In addition, this interpretive, queer relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale existed in the book thirty years ago. Many fans are not considering the difference between creating a totally new story in 2019 and faithfully adapting a story from 1990 in 2019. Good Omens as representation meant something very different back then and that absolutely impacts how we see its adaptation onto the small screen. To put this into perspective, Rowling made HUGE waves when she revealed that she "thought of" Dumbledore as gay in an interview... in 2007. Compare that to the intense coding 17 years before. Gaiman was - and still is - pushing boundaries.

Which includes being an established ally, particularly in his comics. Queerbaiting isn't just the act of a single work, but the way an author approaches their work. Gaiman does not (to my knowledge) have that mark against him and even if he did, he's done enough other work to offset that.

Finally, we've got other, practical issues like: how do you represent asexuality on the screen? How do you show an absence of something? Yeah, one or both of them could claim that label in the show, outright saying, "I'm asexual," but again, Gaimain isn't looking to box his mythological figures into a single identity. So if we want that rep... we have to grapple with the fact that this is one option for what it looks like.

Even if he did want to narrow the representation down to just a few identities for the show, should Gaiman really be making those major changes when he's only one half of the author team? Pratchett has, sadly, passed on and thus obviously has no say in whether his characters undergo such revisions. Even if fans hate every other argument, they should understand that, out of respect, Good Omens is going to largely remain the same story it was 30 years ago.

And those 6,000 years are just the beginning! Again, this was meant to be a miniseries of a single novel, a novel that, crucially, covered only Crowley and Aziraphale's triumph in being able to love one another freely. That's a part of their personal journey. Yeah, they've been together in one sense for 6,000 years, but that was always with hell and heaven on their backs, to say nothing of the slow-burn approach towards acknowledging that love, for Aziraphale in particular. We end the story at the start of their new relationship, one that is more free and open than it ever was before. They can be anything to one another now! The fact that we don't see that isn't a deliberate attempt on the author's part to deny us that representation, but only a result of the story ending.

So yeah, there's a lot to consider and, frankly, I don't think those fans are considering it. Which on a purely emotional level I can understand. I'm pissed about queerbaiting too and the knee-jerk desire to reject anything that doesn't meet a specific standard is understandable. But understandable doesn't mean we don't have to work against that instinct because doing otherwise is harmful in the long run. We need to consider when stories were published and what representation meant back then. We need to consider how we adapt those stories for a modern audience. We need to acknowledge that if we want the inclusivity that "queer" provides us, that includes getting characters whose identity is not strictly defined by the author as well as characters with overtly canonical labels. We need both. We likewise need to be careful about when having higher standards ends up hurting the wrong authors - who are our imperfect allies vs. those straight up unwilling to embrace our community at all? And most importantly, we have to think about how we're using the terms we've developed to discuss these issues. Queerbaiting means something specific and applying it to Good Omens not only does Good Omens a disservice, but it undermines the intended meaning of "queerbaiting," making it harder to use correctly in the future. Good Omens is not queerbaiting and trying to claim it is only hurts the community those fans are speaking up for.

[deanwbigbang]

That’s a wrap for Dean Winchester Big Bang 2022! Below the cut, you’ll find all the fics and art created this year! Check them out and leave their authors and artists some love!

See you next year!

Number One Preference by RogueTranslator | art by Solstheim dean x cas, T, 11.9k

CASTIEL, the Complex Artificial Symbolic and Tactile Intelligence capable of Emotional Learning, is a personal AI under development at The Sandover Corporation. In hopes of impressing the company’s leadership, Sam’s tech team spends the summer of 2032 installing CASTIELs in the homes of executives. Dean, a Senior Vice President of Marketing who happens to be Sam’s workaholic older brother, is one of those executives. Though Dean starts out skeptical of personal AIs, he and CASTIEL soon become fast friends, and Dean begins developing a new marketing strategy for CASTIEL that emphasizes the bonds between machines and humans. But when the board of directors finally makes good on a threat to shutter the CASTIEL program permanently, Dean has to rely on all his skills as a marketer to get them to change course and save CASTIEL.

fic | art

Through This Dark Tunnel by YohkoBennington | art by DWImpala67 dean x sam, M, 8.2k

After a hunt went wrong, Sam is left to pick up the pieces. Trying to put them back to who they were while considering a change in their lives proves to be a whole new set of obstacles he thought they were done with.

fic | art

broken glass (a million pieces of lumpy meat) by swordofsun | art by imjustgonnareblogthis dean x cas, T, 8k

Dean takes Jody's advice and allows himself to be broken. Just for a little bit.

fic | art

Final Days of Eden by tendency | art by ncdover1285 dean x cassie, T, 11.1k

Dean’s got a great girl he’s in love with, and he’s managing to split his days between working at a mechanic’s shop and hunting while still having plenty of time for Cassie. He could definitely see spending the rest of his life like this (if only he could stop feeling so guilty about the lies he has to tell her).

fic | art

Take the Long Way Home by Amypond45 | art by MidnightSilver dean x sam, M, 10.3k

Dean grew up an only child. When his parents die in a car accident, he returns to Lawrence to sell the family home and move on with his life. Then, one day, a Tall Hot Dude pulls up in a crappy used car.

fic | art

Enspelled by zaffre | art by R-ifann dean x cas, T, 5k

Rowena curses Sam for the Winchester’s involvement in Crowley’s death. Now it’s up to Dean to learn magic to save him. It’s just that easy and just that hard.

fic | art

Straight Boys and Queer Hearts by Out_of_nowhere | art by PetraAmia dean x reader, E, 6.6k

You have a one night stand with Dean Winchester, not expecting it to be anything more. To your surprise, Dean wants to see you again. The thing is, you know about guys like Dean, and how relationships with guys like him usually go.

fic | art

Figure It Out As I Go by jld71 | art by DWImpala67 dean x sam, E, 44.4k

After discovering that he’s pregnant with Sam’s pup and thinking that Sam doesn’t want him because Sam has never made the move to claim him, Dean decides to leave Sam and the safety of the bunker to start a life on his own with his pup.

fic | art

Summer Blues by MiracleofWinchester | art by art rover dean & sam, M, 11.2k

As Dean sits here alone in the dark of this summer's night, going through some sort of an introspection journey deep down memory lane _ as he’s finding himself doing more and more for a while now _ as he tries his hardest to make sense of things. Of memories. Yes, Dean thinks; hindsight is like looking through a sharp, new set of eyes. Sometimes disorienting, yet the closest thing to crystal clear. ——— Or Dean Winchester spends one summer night down memory lane. it's nothing much, just his entire life really. or maybe get would go through just a few key moments down the line.

fic | art

Hush by Squeevening | art by alexiescherryslurpy dean x benny, E, 9.7k

Here's what might have happened in Purgatory between Dean and Benny. This fic is a happy-for-now, because I've watched this show very carefully, *especially* the breakup scene between Dean/Benny and Sam/Amelia, shot with equal weight, where Dean says ADIOS - which he only says to lovers the morning after - and you cannot tell me Dean and Benny weren't CANONICALLY dating. :-D Anyways, this is sweet and hot and I found it incredibly addicting, not because of the sex, but because of how endearingly pathetic Dean gets before he figures out how to ask for it.

fic | art

Heaven is a Place on Earth by Bexgowen | art by Solstheimart dean x sam, E, 64.7k

Dean Winchester is a lonely, repressed ad-man whose only vices are his 1967 Chevy Impala and the sex worker he sees every week. When Anael unexpectedly cancels Dean's appointment with her at the Heaven and Hell themed brothel, Dean agrees to make an appointment with another of Heaven's angels. A male angel, who goes by the name 'Castiel', and who unlocks desires in Dean that he thought he had buried deep, deep down. But there is a darker side to Dean: a side that Dean discovers when he ventures down to Hell and meets a demon named Alastair. Will Dean listen to the angel on his shoulder and follow his heart, or will he succumb to the temptation of the demon on his back?

fic | art

The Michael Sword by deansmultitudes | art by zxro dean & cas, dean & michael, M, 6.3k

There’s no stopping the apocalypse. Best Dean can do is make sure that the slightly better side has a fighting chance once Lucifer wears Sam to the prom. He makes a decision—he’s going to say ‘yes’ to Michael. And there is nothing that can stop him; not Sam and Bobby locking him up in the panic room, and most definitely not Cas’s fists bruising his body, drawing blood, bouncing him around that dark alley like a rag doll.

fic | art

[reids-rendering-reality]

Criminal Collar

Summary: Spencer meets Y/N’s ex-boyfriend and renowned criminal consultant for the White Collar Crime Unit of the FBI, Neal Caffrey.

(A/N: this is a cross-over between White Collar and Criminal Minds. There are no spoilers for WC and you don’t need to have watched it to read this. Also, I know I made Neal a little meaner than he is, but it fits better with my storyline oops)

Type: angst, with the end being fluffy and a little smutty

Warnings: mentions of criminal activity, insecurity, jealousy, making out

Word Count: 2.4K

Reader’s POV

I joined the BAU about one and a half years ago, after leaving the White Collar Crime Unit of the FBI. Honestly, I was kind of glad when Strauss requested my transfer and my new team suits me way better. Especially because I’ve started dating Dr. Spencer Reid 6 months ago and he makes me really happy. However, I guess luck wasn’t on my side this week.

Like it always is when things like this happen, it was a regular day at the FBI. I was working on some paperwork at my desk before JJ would brief us on the new case in half an hour. That was when Hotch appeared from his office.

“Y/L/N, can you come into my office?” he said looking down at me into the bullpen. When I just looked up at him confused for a moment, he continued “now, please.”

I got up slowly, exchanging a few worried glances with Spencer before walking into his office.

“Agent Burke from the White Collar unit has requested you to go downstairs and consult on a case,” Hotch said in his typical ultra-serious voice.

“Do you know what case this is? I am working on this team now,” I said, a little worried that I would have to return to the WCU.

“I don’t know. But don’t worry, you won’t be transferred again. Head down now, we’re leaving in an hour. Spencer will brief the case to you on the jet,” he said while mustering my anxious stance.

When I returned to the bullpen, I quickly organised my desk so that I could leave for the jet right away.

“What did he want?” Spencer asked, suddenly standing next to me which made me jump a little.

“WCU needs a consult on a case, but I’ll be back in time for take-off,” I said, avoiding his eyes and getting ready to leave for the elevator.

I walked past Spencer and didn’t turn around once, but I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. Not only his though, I felt the entire team stare me down as I disappeared into the hall.

 The rest of the week was relatively eventless – for the BAU at least. I gave Burke his consult on the case and headed to Texas with the others. The case was not too difficult or straining.

When we returned to the office, it wasn’t even late. It was midday, and everyone was chattering about happily in the elevator. But when the elevator doors opened, the mood shifted completely. Right there, in the bullpen, sitting at my desk, I saw a figure in a black fedora. My breath hitched and I could feel Spencer look over at me. When we exited the elevator, the figure turned around and revealed his face.

“Is that-“ Morgan began baffled.

“Neal Caffrey,” I finished a clear sour undertone to my voice. Both Morgan and Spencer looked at me weirdly. It was unusual for me to talk in this way, I don’t think they have ever heard it before.

I pushed open the glass doors and hurried away from the others towards the man sitting at my desk.

“Y/N/N! So nice to see you again,” he grinned up at me as I approached him. I could still feel the four pairs of eyes burning into the back of my head.

“Neal, what are you doing here?” I said, my voice even more furious than before. At the same time, my mind was racing about how I would explain all of this to Spencer and the others later.

“Can’t we just talk like we used to? I saw you in Burke’s office on Monday,” he said, still grinning and making no move to get out of the chair.

“Fine, come with me,” I walked away towards the conference room, hearing him following behind me in his typically slow and casual stride.

 Spencer’s POV

I felt my jaw being open during their entire interaction and quickly shut it as they entered the conference room.

“What was that all about?” Prentiss asked curiously.

“That’s Neal Caffrey, the criminal consultant down at the-“ I began to explain almost automatically.

“I know who he is, but how does he know Y/N and why is he here?” Prentiss interrupted me.

“Well, Y/N worked down at the WCU before she was transferred here. I heard a rumour from a friend that works there. Apparently, Y/N was dating him during her time there and when a case ended badly for them, they suspected that she couldn’t work there with him anymore. He did some scandalous things that not only endangered the reputation of their entire team, but also the entire FBI. Some say, Y/N was in on it and didn’t tell anyone. But after a couple of examinations, she was transferred here instead because Strauss thinks she’s invaluable to the FBI,” JJ explained to all of us.

“She dated a criminal? Damn, I never would’ve expected that from her,” Derek said and looked up to the conference room and then said a little more quietly, “quite a change in her type since she came here.”

I looked at him incredulously, before looking at my hands and fidgeting with them.

“Did you know about this, Reid?” Prentiss asked me.

“Me?” I looked up again, “What- uh- no, of course not!”

“How did you not know that your girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend is one of the most famous white-collar criminals?” Morgan asked.

“We haven’t really talked about that stuff,” I said quietly, “it’s not like I would’ve had anything to share.”

“So you’re telling me, you’ve never had the uncomfortable talk about exes with her? For a genius, you do not have a lot of experience with relationships,” Prentiss said, her tone almost joking.

“What do you think they’re talking about in there?” I tried to deflect the topic of conversation away from me while looking up at the conference room, where Neal was just closing the blinds.

 Reader’s POV

“So, why did you come here?” I asked, closing the door to the conference room behind me as Neal looked around.

“Surely you miss the WCU. This place is dark and gloomy. The cases are grim and the undercover operations aren’t nearly as glamorous. Plus, I’m not there,” he grinned at me. I couldn’t help but chuckle at his attempt at flirting with me.

“Cut the crap, I left the WCU for a reason. Don’t make me ask again: why are you here?” I could feel my annoyance rise.

“I’m here because of you. I just want to talk to you. We haven’t seen each other in so long, I wanted to catch up a little,” he paused, walking around the table, “you can’t tell me you haven’t missed me.”

“I haven’t,” I said.

Before I could continue to speak, Neal continued, “right. Like I would believe that,” he looked out the window into the bullpen where the team was standing, trying not to stare too obviously, “but then again, here’s that lanky boy. He keeps looking at you in a certain way. Is he your boyfriend?”

Neal glanced at me for a moment, before turning his attention back to the window and closing the blinds with a bright grin.

“That’s none of your business. My life is none of your business anymore. You put me in so much danger without even caring about the consequences. That’s why I transferred here. So please, just leave me alone.”

He now walked over me in casual strides. I mustered him, the memories resurfacing at the sight of him in that typical classy Italian suit, with a pin on his tie. He was always dressed so properly. But the way he behaved was just the opposite. Yet, a tiny little part of me looked at him and saw that attractive man that I had fallen in love with over the years working with him.

He stopped when he was standing right in front of me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

“Y/N, don’t you think it’s time to let that go? That was such a long time ago.. I’ve changed, you know?” he looked into my eyes with a sincerity that I would’ve believed one and a half years ago. But working at the BAU taught me a lot about reading people, seeing typical communication and manipulation strategies. I wasn’t falling for his lies anymore.

“Is that all you came here for, Neal? Trying to get me back? Because I won’t ever go back to you. I’ve moved on and I realised that dating you, to begin with, was a huge mistake,” I said with the most confident tone I could muster.

That last part wasn’t entirely true. While he did hurt me, my reputation, and everything I stood for repeatedly, he still was a part of me. We had been in a relationship for years. There were so many good times that I had to let go for my well-being.

To be convincing with my words, I walked past him, towards the door, “it’s time for you to leave.”

After a little bickering back and forth, he finally walked out of the BAU. I could see that the team had left, only Spencer was still sitting at his desk, working on some paperwork. He was waiting for me to go home together, just like always. The sight warmed my heart; Spencer was so good to me.

But of course, Neal wouldn’t just leave without a bang. Walking past Spencer’s desk, he stopped for a second and said, “take care of her. She obviously needs you to get over me.”

Spencer looked up at him with wide eyes as he spoke and didn’t even respond before Neal had left into the elevator. Spencer turned his head and looked up at me.

 We were on the way home to my apartment, just like always when we returned from a case. We sat there in silence, Spencer’s eyes focused intensely on the road as he was driving.

“Spencer?” I asked softly looking over at him. He just gave a tight-lipped hum in response.

“Can we talk? I assume you have questions, but you haven’t said anything yet.”

He cleared his voice before responding calmly and quietly, “I just didn’t want to discuss it at the office. There isn’t anything to talk about. I know about one of your exes now.”

“But what he said to you. And everything. It must-“ I huffed, “you look like it bothers you. Don’t you want to share what you’re feeling? Maybe I can help you process.”

Spencer gave me a quick glance, seemingly ignoring my concerned face with a cold expression.

“What do you want to hear? Do you want to hear how I keep thinking I’m not good enough for you, regardless of what happened today? How that just made me feel worse? Do you want to hear about how embarrassed I was when JJ told us that he is your ex-boyfriend and I, your current boyfriend, didn’t even know about it? Do you want to know about all the other things I’m imagining you hiding from me? How my mind is racing with all my insecurities that you already know about because I tell you things that bother me while you don’t?” he said, his voice getting louder and louder with each question while his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Do you want to know about how Morgan even commented on the fact that he is so different from me and your type has changed a lot? How do you think all that makes me feel? When it isn’t coming from you?” he continued angrily.

I didn’t know what to say. To be honest, I was a little speechless. I thought it would bother him, but not like this.

“See? That’s why I didn’t want to open up. It’s not like you have anything to say about it anyway,” he said, his tone ice-cold.

The rest of the car ride was silent. My mind was racing with things I could respond to him, but nothing came to mind. When we arrived at my apartment, I was surprised that he parked the car. I had assumed that after that speech he would just drop me off and go home alone.

Before I could move, Spencer had turned towards me and taken my hand into his gently.

“Can I come inside?” he asked softly, his demeanour completely different from before.

“Yes, of course, Spence,” I replied gently.

Upstairs in my apartment, we sat on the couch together.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I’m just really bothered by it. He is everything I’m not. He is attractive, charming, has a good style, and even just muscles. He is-“ Spencer began, but I cut him off.

“and he is a criminal. Listen, Spence, I completely understand how you feel. But, behind his attractive mask, there is so much more, that just isn’t attractive. To me, his personality wasn’t attractive. He didn’t treat me well and only cared about himself. He only cared about the lifestyle he wanted to lead and he could never let go of his criminal past.”

Spencer just looked up at me from his hunched position with his big brown puppy eyes.

“Plus, just because he is attractive doesn’t mean you’re not. God, I think you’re so hot. Your face, your hair, those sweater vests. You’re completely different from him, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t attractive. And when you use that big brain of yours to solve cases and explain things, that no one else knows and that most people don’t even understand. I think you’re incredibly attractive. And your intelligence is very charming, and-,” I began to ramble about all the things I loved about him.

But before I could continue speaking he had grabbed my face and kissed me on the lips passionately. His lips moved against mine, as his hands entangled in my hair. I almost moaned into his mouth as his tongue found mine and my hands reached for the back of his neck.

When we pulled apart, he was breathless and said with a slight pant, “so you think I’m really hot, huh?”

And I didn’t know how to respond to that in any other way than to just slip onto his lap and kiss him again.

[schrijverr]

Shuffle the Odds

Specner is a Vegas boy, who's game is poker, no matter what others might believe. The team slowly catches onto it.

Following Spencer from when he started at the BAU till season 7 with poker as red thread.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: Reid's shit childhood, a bit about his drug problem, gambling and abandonment issues

~~~~~~~~~~

Most think of Spencer’s game as chess. It’s a mathematical thinking game associated with intellect that he is known to play, so it isn’t a strange assumption to make. But chess has always been Gideon’s game, Reid just plays it with him.

You see, Spencer’s game is poker.

Poker for Spencer is good and bad memories tied up in a strange combination of behavioral studies, Math and high stakes.

He remembers the first time he played the game. He was seven at the time and his father’s poker table was one man short of the usual, so his father had jokingly said: “Spencer can play in Jack’s place.”

It got some laughs, but Spencer hadn’t realized it was a joke and simply replied: “It doesn’t look that hard.”

That got even more laughs, except for his father, who got a glint in his eyes as he said: “Sit down, Spencer. Here, I’ll bet he can kick all our asses. A hundred bucks, who’s in?”

One of the guys had asked Spencer if he had ever played before and Spencer had dutifully told him he had not. So, bet’s were placed and they told Spencer the rules. His father was a couple hundred bucks richer and his parents fought that night.

Still, he often played poker with his dad. One of the few god things they did together before he left, after which Spencer forgot about the game until he was sixteen.

At sixteen, his mother was doing even worse than she was seven years ago and the savings she had from her job were running low as Spencer tried to put himself through college for the so manieth time.

He had done tutoring jobs, but those weren’t enough to live on and now he was old enough to pass with a fake ID and maybe some make-up. So, he remembered the game he played with his father and the money that exchanged hands.

Spencer will always be a Vegas boy at heart.

Thus began his stints withsemi-illegal poker strategy anda confirmed illegal ID as he slowly worked his way through the casino’s in his hometown. He knew it was bad, but it was also profitable and he was finally able to save up for the medical center for his mom. And as long as no one found out, he still had a future.

Still, all of that isn’t something you tell your employer, especially if your employer is the FBI and you’re just starting out on a new team, trying to get the respect your age doesn’t grantyou.

So, he doesn’t start out his new job by saying: Hi, I’m Dr. Spencer Reid and I’m banned from most casino’s in Las Vegas, Laughlin and Pahrump. And instead just awkwardly stumbles over a statistic about germs as he avoids shaking hands.

Gideon knows, of course. He actually ran into the man after a lecture in his psychology courses at a casino-hotel Gideon was staying inat the time. But Spencer played it off as just it being a first time, one-off thing and Gideon pretended to believe him.

They never really spoke of it and the two always played Gideon’s game. Chess. It is the game the others in the BAU know him to play and Spencer is more than fine with that.

However, hiding things while working with a team trained to figure things out off the faintest clues isn’t easy and being a prolific poker player slips through the cracks.

It’s on his third case with the BAU that it happens. They’ve just caught a serial killer in Montana and are flying back. Before Spencer can hide himself in a book like he’s always done, Derek callsout: “Hey, Reid, you’re a Vegas boy, right?”

Spencer has to guess whether Derek found out about his past and it’s a trap or if the other agent is trying to befriend him. In case it is the latter, he doesn’t want to lie, because if he’s going to work with these people, he at least wants to be on good terms with them. Cautiously, he replies: “Yes, I suppose so.”

“So, you play cards?” Derek asks and it’s phrased like a genuine question, but Spencer distrusts the whole thing even more.

He looks to Gideon for answers, but the man is flipping through a case file and isn’t paying attention. Seems Spencer has to figure this one out by himself. “I know how to play,” he settles on, knowing the game isn’t an admission to anything, right?

“Hell yeah, kid. Finally,” Derek grins and it doesn’t seem like a trap, but just excitement. So, Spencer relaxes slightly as Derek says: “No one ever wants to play. Here sit down and I’ll deal. You know poker, right?”

Spencer nods as he sits down. He still looks around, just in case. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, maybe for Hotch the suddenly jump up and accuse him of being a criminal, however unlikely.

JJ dissipates that fear when she snorts: “The only reason none of us want to play with you is because you’re insufferable when you play poker.”

“I am not,” Derek complains. “Reid here doesn’t think so, right, kid?”

“Uhm, no?” Spencer answers quietly, not wanting to ignore Derek, but also not wanting to pick a side between the two agents, who have been on this team longer than him.

“See,” Derek says to JJ as he deals, she just shakes her head and goes back to her report. Once he’s done dealing, Derek throws him a packet of pretzels and informs him that those are the chips they’ll be playing with.

They play four games and Spencer lets Derek win three of them. It’s at that moment that Gideon looks up from his book and decides for fuck Spencer over by saying: “You don’t have to let him win, Reid. He’s cocky enough as is.”

“Hold up,” Derek exclaims indignantly. “He is not letting me win, okay. I’m just good at poker, which is why you’re too scared to play with me. You don’t need to coddle him, he can handle loosing a few rounds of poker against me.”

Now everyone is looking at Spencer, who is decidedly not saying anything, already regretting his decision to agree to a few rounds of poker. He should have just played the nerdy doctor card and pretended he didn’t know, before hiding away again.

“I’m not afraid to play poker with you,” Gideon says. “I just don’t think it’s worth my time.”

“Oh really?” Derek shoots back and it’s 100% a challenge.

“Yes, really,” and Gideon sadly isn’t someone, who lets things go. “I’ll play with you and Reid right now and I want to bet that the kid will wipe the floor with both of us.”

Spencer is suddenly transported to his old living room, with his father and his friends surrounding a poker table. He blinks and Derek and Gideon both look at him to see if he agrees. Awkwardly he says: “I don’t know. I could probably beat you, but counting cards is looked down upon and I can’t turn my brain off enough for me not to do it, so I’ll have an unfair advantage.”

“No, man, poker is about body language and reading clues,” Derek tells him. “Profiling beats Math when it comes to poker. Play your best, I’ll beat you both.”

And with that it’s decided and the cards aredealt again.

The whole game Spencer is not only calculating the cards, but also what his best move is. He doesn’t want to disappoint Gideon, but he also doesn’t want any scrutiny on his poker playing skills, so he has to find away do avoid both.

In the end, he decides he can spout something about Math that will bore Derek and make it seem like it’s just theory that made him good. Besides being good at poker, doesn’t mean having been banned throughout casino’s inthree towns before you were the legal age to gamble. That isn’t a connection one would make.

So, he wins and watches nervously as Gideon gives Derek a smirk, who frowns: “Could just be lucky. It happens, sometimes cards are against you.”

“Then deal again,” Gideon tells him, which the other does with a huff.

Spencer wins again and then again, feeling a bit like the party trick he used to be at office parties his dad had as Hotch and JJ come to watch while Spencer wipes the floor with the othersat poker over and over again, much to Derek’s frustration.

“I give up,” he finally says, throwing his hands up. “You win. Happy?”

“Very much so,” Gideon grins, before going back to his report like nothing has happened.

Spencer doesn’t really know what to do. Gideon thinks it’s over, so do Hotch and JJ, but Derek is still looking out the window, slightly putout. The whole goal was to befriend the other agent, but instead he just made him upset. Softly, he says: “I’m sorry.”

Derek looks up at him in surprise, eyes softening when he sees the young agent. He smiles gently and says: “I’m not mad, promise. No need for sorry.”

“But I-”

“I can handle loosing a bit of poker,” Derek quirks a brow and Spencer feels stupid about what he was insinuating. “And I get going along with Gideon, he loves his tricks, wouldn't want him to turn on me.” Derek winks at that and Spencer, for the first time in his life, is included in a mutual joke and brightens.

It dims slightly again as he says: “I didn’t let you win, because I thought you’d be a sore looser.”

“Then why did you?” Derek asks, no judgment in his voice.

Spencer shrugs, before confessing: “People generally don’t like it when someone beats them at something they’re good at. I- I have- A lot of people are less nice when you disprove something they believe, especially if you’re younger.”

He doesn’t like being vulnerable, but he does really like this job and this team, who have only taken him seriously and appreciated him ever since he got there. If it gets to stay that way, he’s prepared to make a sacrifice.

And it pays off too, because Derek face turns into something understanding an Spencer is grateful when he doesn’t ask further, just starts shuffling the cards as he says: “You gonna show me how you did that? One day. One day and I’ll use your tricks against you.”

“We’ll see,” Spencer smiles, picking up his cards. Yeah, this team is worth it.

Slowly, he gets integrated into the BAU until he knows them all as well as family. Elle joins them and he likes her. She isn’t a huge poker player, but she seems to get amusement out of watching Spencer beat Derek on the plane.

At one point, she says: “We should take you to Vegas, earn some money.”

It’s meant as a joke, Derek laughs, but Spencer freezes slightly. When Derek notices, he immediately asks: “You okay, Reid?”

Spencer knows he can’t very well tell Derek: ‘No, I was suddenly gripped by the fear that you would uncover my illegal gambling and I froze,’ so he smiles and answers: “I’m fine. Just hadn’t realized Elle didn’t know I’m from Vegas. It’s quite a strange thing to hear someone joke about taking you to your hometown.”

That gets the two of them off his back as Elle makes another joke about him having poker genes, but Derek’s gaze stays on him.

Still, the incident is forgotten and life goes on.

When they’re attacked by Randall Garner, Spencer fears for a moment that he’ll use it as leverage against him. It never happens and he later realizes that his mom doesn’t even know what he did for them and that it just slipped his mind in the stress of the case and fear.

Yet the attack sets in motion the reasoning and actions that lead to Elle leaving and Spencer knows he’s going to miss her so much. She’s the first to leave since he’s gotten to the team and he is suddenly reminded of how much is sucks when someone you care about goes.

He still calls her and she still asks if he has beaten Derek at poker recently, but it isn’t the same.

Her replacement is one Emily Prentiss. Spencer is usually a nice, welcoming person, but he has been kidnapped recently and the drugs are still messing with his system and Elle’s departure is still raw.

So, he’s hostile towards her. He doesn’t like her. She tries to befriend him, replace someone he’s missing and he wants to escape both her and the loss.

It’s only when he finds himself at a casino in Quantico, trying to win the extra off the book cash needed to buy the drugs, that he knows he has to stop. He has worked hard to get where he is in the FBI at his age and he finally has a family. Sure, one member has gone, but the others were still there. He isn’t going to ruin that.

He leaves the casino that night and gets sober. It’s a struggle and he isn’t any nicer to Prentiss throughout his withdrawal period.

Derek tries to get him to play, but he doesn’t react. He knows it worries him, but he can’t help but see that casino again and all the casino’s before that and he can’t bring himself. So, he watches, almost from afar as Prentiss says: “I play.”

“Okay,” Derek nods as he starts to shuffle, but his eyes trail over Spencer and he isn’t as enthusiastic.

Prentiss proves to be a good match and Spencer knows that in another time, he’ll have enjoyed playing with her and bullying Derek together, but he can’t bring himself now.

Still, it gets better, for a while. He stays sober and redeems himself as a normal, okay and nice person for Emily, who is also much nicer than he first treated her. She fits in with them all, despite her sometimes distant position. Not that he blames her for that, he knows a defense for abandonment when he sees it. Just because he clings, doesn’t mean, he isn’t aware of the other coping mechanisms.

Then Gideon leaves.

If Elle’s departure has hit him, this punches him in the face and kicks him when he’s down. Gideon is the closest thing he has to a father and the man walking out is too familiar.

It hurts.

He plays chess intensely until he can’t look at a chess board without wanting to throw in across the room. So, when Derek and Emily are playing on the plane again, he says: “Hey, deal me a hand too.”

When Derek smiles a proper smile at him, he feels the weight of Gideon’s departure lighten. Poker is Spencer’s game, he has tied it to good memories with family, no matter how it ends, for years and he isn’t going to stop now.

Emily, at this point, has never seen him play and cockily jokes: “I would worry, Reid. No offense, but I’ve been wiping the floor with Morgan here and my Sin to Win weekends have prepared me for this showdown.”

Spencer wants to counter it, but he sees a mischievous glint in Derek’s eyes as he subtly shakes his head. With Derek he doesn’t feel like a circus trick, but just someone in on the joke after Emily’s cocky statement, which is very reminiscent of Derek’s.

“We’ll see,” is all he says as he sits down. JJ looks up and shakes her head fondly and Hotch looks up then away with the hint of a smile. The only one who looks up curiously is Rossi, who is even newer than Emily and the only other one, who has never seen Spencer play.

He has to admit that Emily is one lucky lady in her draws, but even her luck is mathematically predictable. Especially because she pushes her tongue against the inside of her teeth, which you can see in her jaw, whenever she’s lucky.

Ah, the beauty of behavior andMath.

Spencer beats her and Derek laughs, prompting her to demand a rematch. After five more games, in which, admittedly, she has beat him once and almost twice, she is suitably impressed. Still, she turns to Derek and accuses: “You knew, you fucking dick.”

Derek just laughs and says: “Everyone has to learn the hard way about Reid and poker, okay. If he weren’t already a Vegas boy, I would bring him to start my pension for me.”

That makes Emily laugh and Spencer can also manage a chuckle. Derek thinks him too much ofa doctor for him to realize. It’s all good and he can also laugh at the absurdity that it happened to him, even if the others only laugh at the possibility.

After that it becomes sort of a thing. He, Derek and Emily play poker on the way home from cases and slowly the pain of Gideon leaving disappears as he grows closer to both Emily and Rossi.

At some point, Hotch comments that he remembers Rossi being a poker player, but Rossi holds up his hands and replies: “I’ve seen the blood in the water with them, I’m not swimming with the sharks.”

“You scared, old man?” Derek jokes.

“Of you? No. Of them? Absolutely.” Rossi tells him, making the whole team laugh as well as make Spencer feel a strange sort of pride. As if his poker is an admirable skill, instead of something he’s ashamed about.

He never talks of poker outside the plane rides and no one pushes him. Emily will mention her Sin to Win weekends from time to time, insinuating that Spencer is invited, should he want to come, but he never takes her up on it.

Poker is reserved for the plane. A winding down from stressful cases that is carefully separated from the ground, both in his personal life and professional life. Despite the inaccuracy in the metaphor, he doesn’t see the need to wave a red cape in front of a bull’s eyes. No need to invite conversation where it might lead to an uncomfortable one.

Still, he is Dr. Spencer Reid and life never truly goes his way.

They have been in Las Vegas before on a case, even stayed in a Casino. It was back when Spencer tried to arrest his father, but Spencer wasn’t recognized by anyone, probably since he hadn’t been back in years and it wasn’t one he was hard banned.

He isn’t as lucky this time.

Spencer doesn’t even realize until they pull up. He usually checks with JJ where they go, he does it to every city to check up on the motels to know how much he’ll have to prepare for the grossness, but having been called out of bed in the middle of the night for a series of brutal murders with another one imminent, it had slipped his mind.

So, when they come back from a day investigating to try and get a little bit of sleep before returning to the station, he is faced with The Mirage, a big name in Vegas, which had banned him withquite a scene that has made him terrified to ever return.

The others first don’t realize he pauses outside as he hesitates. If he walks in with Hotch, he isn’t likely to be stopped, but the way he was thrown out, doesn’t bode well for him. And if he just pauses long enough, he can go somewhere else without calling the team’s attention to the fact that he’s avoiding the casino and for what reasons that would be.

But before he can make up his mind, Derek notices. He looks back and frowns. “Hey, Reid, you okay, pretty boy?”

“I mean, yeah,” Spencer replies, already cringing at how out of character and suspicious it sounds.

Immediately the others stop and look back, all slightly concerned. Spencer’s eyes flick between them and the casino, still deliberating. With how closely they’re looking, it doesn’t go unnoticed and Hotch asks: “Is there a problem with the casino?”

Spencer scratches his nose and shrugs: “No, no, of course not.” He just has to hope that Hotch’s Hotch-ness will get him to his room and that him avoiding the gambling area will be enough to not get kicked out in front of everyone.

He practically hides behind Hotch, much to everyone’s amusement, even if it’s colored by confusion and concern about the behavior of their youngest member. Derek in particular is sending him glances with meaningful eyebrows that Spencer avoids in favor of looking if he is spotted by security yet. So far, so good.

They almost make it to the elevator too.

Spencer can almost touch the – probably incredibly germ-y –elevator button, when a Pit Boss, middle management on the floor, spots him. The woman yells: “Hey, you there. At the elevator, turn around.”

The whole team pauses, first unsure if she’s talking to them. Then they see how Spencer is frozen, before he turns slowly as they follow suit, confusion written all over their faces.

Of course Spencer recognizes the lady. Her name is Fiona Quinn and she was the one that threw him out, now already eleven years ago. He was seventeen at the time and had managed to piss off a visiting executive, who was assessing the staff.

She goes livid when she recognizes him. “Get out!” she screams. “Get out of this casino! You know very well you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Miss Quinn,” he starts trying to explain, “I’m not here to bet, I promise. I- I’m here for work and I didn’t book-”

“I don’t care for your excuses,” Fiona fumes. He remembers she was a Pit Boss back then too, probably on the cusp of a promotion that he had ruined for her.

Spencer cowers slightly under her rage and looks helplessly at Hotch, who steps in. He shows her his badge and says: “I’m SSA Hotchner, I’m with the FBI. Can you please tell me why you’re harassing one of my colleagues, who is trying to get to his room.”

That, if anything, makes her even more livid. “That little brat?” she shrieks. “Is he even old enough to be FBI or did you give you a fake ID too?”

Multiple eyebrows are raised as they look at Spencer, who makes a gesture that hopefully conveys: I know, I also don’t want to talk about it. It is what it is.

“Ma’am, I see you’re upset, but SSA Dr. Reid is only sleeping here. He did not even know we would be staying here until moments ago,” Hotch tries to calm her down.

“I don’t care,” Fiona says. “You may be FBI, but you’re not all powerful. He,” she points harshly at Spencer, “is banned here. For forever. He’s not allowed to set a foot in this establishment and should be glad the police let him off with a warning. The ban has not worn off, it was lifelong, not over after a decade.”

“We understand that, ma’am,” Hotch says gently. “But at this moment we just want to go to our rooms. We’re not here to gamble, just rest. We have to go back to a murder investigation in a few hours and we would like some rest. He won’t set foot in here after that, I promise, but can we please stay for the night we booked.”

Fiona regards them for a moment, suspicion in her eyes. However, she also seems to realize she has gained quite an audience and her movements are being watched. “Can I see your badge again, agent?” she asks.

Dutifully Hotch shows her his badge, but not without sending Spencer a look that tells him this will be discussed in length later.

She then looks at Spencer and disgust colors her features as she says: “And your badge, let me see it.” Spencer shows her, feeling very uncomfortable as she studies it. She hums: “So your name is Spencer Reid. I’ll update our ban with the proper name.”

He blushes and nods, apologizing for the inconvenience and mentally beating himself up for not just taking a nap at the police station or leaving the moment he saw where they were staying. But Fiona Quinn is satisfied with their badges and lets them go upstairs.

The elevator ride is quiet for a moment, then, just as Spencer thinks he might get away with staying silent, Hotch prompt: “So, Reid, care to explain what that was about?”

“Uhm, well,” Spencer starts, not really wanting to but knowing he can’t avoid it and praying they reach their floor before it can go somewhere. “You know. Stuff. Happened.”

Hotch slowly raises one brow and Spencer desperately tries not to meet his eyes. Derek elbows him and looks up in surprise. The man smirks, like he doesn’t believe Spencer could have done anything that bad, as he asks: “What did little Spencer do to get himself banned from a casino? Wild 21stbirthday or something?”

“Not- Not exactly,” Spencer answered. “More- well, uhm, can you all- I wouldn't want- It’s just-”

“Dr. Spencer Reid without words, that’s a first,” Emily noted. “Someone call the news.”

“Reid, at this point I think it’s better for you to tell us than for us to make our own assumptions,” Hotch tells him and that’s what pushes him over the edge, he knows what an active imagination can do.

“Promise not to tell the director?” he still checks.

Derek frowns and comments: “Damn, what did you do?”

“It was eleven years ago, alright,” Spencer defends himself before he realizes they can do the mental Math themselves.

“You would have been seventeen and definitely not allowed to be in here,” Hotch says pointedly.

“Kind of exactly that,” Spencer winces as the other’s explode. Still, he stupidly defends himself by saying: “But they didn’t throw me out because of that, they just tried to charge me, but they didn’t. I was fine. They let me off with a warning, sort of.”

“Reid,” Hotch is not looking happy.

Before Spencer can answer the elevator dings, they all get out, but no one moves to go to their rooms. In a last ditch effort to avoid answering for his past, Spencer says: “We should try to get some rest. We still have a case, remember?”

“Yeah, no, pretty boy,” Derek shakes his head. “Just tell us what happened that has gotten you a lifetime ban here.”

“I have more bans,” it slips out and he face palms, before explaining: “I count cards. I can’t help it, my brain does it automatically. I wouldn't have gotten caught if I had been more careful, I always make sure to loose enough rounds to not raise suspicion, but our electricity had gone out and me and my mom don’t do well without light. I just needed enough money for the bills, I didn’t know an executive would be there.”

He hates how he has a front row seat to the revelations on his team mates’ faces as they realize he illegally played poker throughout his youth, just to make sure he and his mom would survive. If it was just the illegal part, he would bea stupid teen, but now he’s just a sob story.

“But that’s over now,” he says, before anyone can pity him. “I don’t play for money anymore and I’ve never been caught. I know that doesn’t make up for it, but my record is clean, I swear, this was the only thing I did. Casino’s make 6 million dollars a year off gambling, they wouldn't miss one kid earning a bit off that.”

“I won’t tell,” Derek speaks up, he thinks it only fair having not mentioned his own past to the team until it got relevant.

Others nod their agreement and a knot loosens in Spencer’s chest. However, Hotch still has to decide and Spencer might still loose it all.

Everyone holds their breath.

“Seeing how far in the past it is and the circumstances, I do not see the need to notify the board,” the unit chief finally decides and Spencer lets out a big sigh of relief. “Now, Reid was right, we do still have a case. Everyone, get some rest.”

They don’t mention it again after that. The next night Spencer sleeps on the precinct couch, promising the others that it’s fine. They solve the case the day after that and are on the plane home in no time.

On the plane, Derek hesitates for a moment, then pulls out their deck of cards, before yelling: “Hey, pretty boy, just ‘cause you can’t play for money, doesn’t mean you’re getting out of this.”

Spencer is glad the other isn’t being weird about it and gladly goes to sit with him and Emily as they start the game.

They’re a few rounds in when Derek says: “Hey, Reid. All those times we joked about taking you to Vegas, huh?” Spencer nods to signal he knows what Derek is talking about. “How much were you laughing at us?”

The question honestly takes him by surprise and he honestly answers: “I didn’t. I was more scared you would connect the dots.”

“Are you banned just in Vegas?” Emily asks then.

“In the area, yeah,” Spencer answers, not seeing the need to list the three towns he’s not allowed to gamble in.

“So, I could still bring you to an Atlanta Sin to Win weekend?” Emily says.

Spencer laughs, he can’t believe she’s still trying that. He grins: “I think we’ll both get banned if I go and I don’t think you want that.”

“Damn, here I thought I got my future fortune,” Emily grins back.

And life goes on. It really isn’t a conversation topic and it gets mostly forgotten as more important things come at them that they need to focus on.

He hadn’t realized how forgotten until they’re in New Jersey, trying to track down a serial killer trying to get good luck. The whole case surrounded casino’s, but no one has turned to him to give him a look or make a dumb joke about it. They haven’t even asked if he knows anything that could help with the case, given his past.

Not that he has.

He’s seen people with rituals trying to get good luck, but he has personally never believed in it and hasn’t encountered something this extreme before. The only insight he could offer is to how a casino works, but that’s about it.

Still, he knew it would come up the moment he saw what the case is about and he’s more surprised it took this long.

They figured out what the unsub wants to win. A poker game. The buy in, 50,000 dollars. Spencer has seen more extreme, but never participated in those games, too risky when you’re technically not even allowed to be here, no matter how profitable.

However, he doesn’t offer himself as candidate. It seems unnecessary when they don’t even have the funds to be allowed to go in. As Rossi sarcastically points out: “I can’t imagine why not. We’re only asking for 50,000 bucks of taxpayer money so that FBI agents can play Texas Hold ‘Em.”

Spencer is about to agree they need another plan, when Emily says: “Hey, what about you?”

“What about me?” Rossi counters immediately.

“You could take us the buy-in,” Emily says.

And honestly, Spencer doesn’t see another option without people getting hurt, so he agrees: “Yeah, you’re a best-selling author.”

“No!” And Spencer can’t really blame Rossi, even if it would be better if the agent agrees with them.

“Why not?” Seems Emily agrees with Spencer on that.

“One, it’s against regulations,” Rossi points out, like they haven’t made rasher decisions in the past to catch a killer. “And I’d like to hold onto this job for a little while longer.”

“It’s a minor administrative violation,” JJ says, saying what Spencer is thinking.

“And two, I prefer to spend my money on actual things, like single-malt Scotch, a fine cigar, beautiful artwork,” Rossi counters further and it ishis money.

“Poker chips are things.” Not that that is deterring Emily in any way and Spencer is really coming up empty on alternative and backs her up: “Maybe just think of it as, like, a new experience. I mean, at your age, how often does that happen?”

“At my what.” Okay, so maybe not the best move.

“Rossi, this may be our only chance to get this guy.” Thank god for JJ and her people skills and quick thinking.

“All right, fine,” Rossi finally gives in. “I’m a decent poker player, but I can’t promise that I can stay in the game long enough to…”

Spencer is mostly fine with letting Rossi go in. He’s the more experienced people reader and they need to find the unsub, not just play poker. Plus it is his money, not Spencer’s, so he’s not presenting himself as player, even if he could stay in the game longer, because 50,000 dollars is a lotof money.

“You know what? I bet you’re a great poker player, but what if we send in Reid?” Seems Emily is more pragmatic and sees no problem in presenting Spencer as option.

“I am banned from casinos in Las Vegas, Laughling and Pahrump, because of my card-counting ability,” Spencer offers. Is it a slightly weird resume? Yes. But he can stay in the game longer and with someone else being the one to present it, he is going to jump aboard.

No one reacts to the other two towns they hadn’t known about, all too busy with the case.

“Look, I know I’m not a genius like the boy wonder here, but poker is not blackjack. It’s about bluffing, reading human nature, head games. It’s not Math,” Rossi says.

And normally Spencer would let things like this go, because it is Rossi’s money and not his call in the end, but he also loves facts and poker is his favorite game. He can’t let Rossislander the beauty of Math that comes along with behavioralanalysis that makes poker such an amazing game.

“That’s not entirely accurate,” he’s out of his seat before he even knows what he’s doing and writing on the whiteboard. “There actually is a Mathematical equation for knowing when to raise and when to fold. If P represents the size of the pot at the time of play, then P times N minus 1, with N representing the estimated numbers of players at the final round of betting-”

“Okay, fine,” he gets cut off by Rossi before he can finish his explanation. “I surrender. Just try not to loose all my money?”

Spencer grins and takes that as a challenge.

Taking the unsub down is of course a priority, but after they’ve explained to the organizers what happened and who they are, Spencer is allowed to gather his winnings, even return to the competition if he wants.

One look from Hotch discourages that idea, so he just collects the chips and goes to get them exchanged, the others on his heels. They all want to see how much he’s won. Rossi even jokingly comments: “You better not have lost too much.”

He doesn’t reply more beyond a cheeky grin, before depositing his wins. He already knows how much he won, but it’s less fun to tell them. As the man at the register counts, Spencer asks: “Hey, Rossi, do I get to keep what I won? I technically earned it and you’ll still get your money back.”

Rossi is a smart man, who merely replies: “We’ll see.”

The registry man can’t help, but nod slightly impressed once he’s done counting and says: “You’ve won 107,580 dollars, congratulations.”

There is a moment of stunned silence, before Derek whistles and Emily hoots, patting him hard on the back. Rossi blinks a few times before grinning and even Hotch shares a small smile with JJ, who looks impressed.

“Damn, pretty boy really does have game,” Derek says as the money is being counted.

“Well,” Spencer blushes. “I had a higher buy-in than I’m used to and we we’re making 8,000 dollar bets throughout. I just played smart and it took me a while before I was at the right table.”

“That’s still impressive, Reid,” JJ says.

“Yeah, you can keep the money you won on that just from extraordinary points alone,” Rossi agrees.

Spencer is in the process of taking the money and quickly goes: “No, no, here, I was just joking, Rossi. That’s your money.

“I’ll take it,” Emily holds out her hand, grinning mischievously as Derek pushes her, before pausing and saying: “I want in too.”

“You know, we’ll split the money,” Rossi says.

“Including Garcia and giving Rossi his orginal 50,000 back that’s still 8,255.71 dollar,” Spencer quickly calculated.

“I will take that,” Emily shakes Rossi’s hand quickly and firmly, before Rossi can back out.

“Aren’t your parents rich, Em?” JJ asks, always having thought those comments were jokes.

Emily shrugs: “They also taught me to never say no to money.”

“I can get behind that,” Derek grins, slinging an arm around Spencer. “Thanks for the money, pretty boy.”

He rolls his eyes, but it’s nice to share his winnings openly with friends, more family, without having to hide or be ashamed. It feels like coming full circle and reclaiming the game he’s always loved for his own and good memories.

Spencer’s game is poker and he can say that with a smile.

~~

A/N:

I love poker playing genius Spencer Reid and there’s honestly not enough content, so I had to do something about that XP