#honestly this is just normal lawyer behavior | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pinkandblueblurbs · 3 years ago

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crush come true

matt murdock x fem!intern!reader. boss x intern relationship, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, age gap, teasing, dirty talk, praise. it’s implied that reader is a freshman in college, but she could honestly be in any year of college.

word count: 2.2k

“Oh come on, Foggy, I was a freshman!” Karen defends herself as the man laughs, sending a half hearted scowl his way. You eat your lunch quietly, an amused smile on your face as you listen to the two talk. Somehow, the topic they’ve landed on today is relationships- past partners, past crushes, even a few brief mentions of current flings- and Karen’s description of her first college infatuation led to relentless teasing from Foggy.

“And that’s supposed to excuse your boy-crazy, borderline obsessive behavior? You figured out his entire schedule, Karen!”

“All girls have stupid crushes their first year of college!” Karen insists as her cheeks redden from a mixture of laughter and embarrassment. She looks to you for support. “You get it, right?”

You glance at Matt where he’s been sitting in an amused silence of his own and see him cock his head back a bit, brows slightly raised, like he’s awaiting your answer. You swallow, knowing damn well that your ‘crush’ is not some boy from your classes. “Yeah, I get it…”

You plan to let your contribution to the conversation end there, but Foggy and Karen aren’t having it. After a bit of playful prodding from the two you make up a story about some cute dark haired sophomore in your polysci class that you’ve been interested in. You keep glancing at Matt to gauge his reaction as you awkwardly fumble through the discussion- and though you aren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, the subtle, indiscernible smirk on his face was certainly not it.

Soon, to your relief, the conversation moves on, and after lunch the rest of the day passes by as normal. You fill out what simple paperwork you’re given, you try not to trip over yourself following Matt’s instructions, you make copies of whatever’s needed, you do your best to minimize the tremble in your voice whenever the man asks you a question. By the time evening rolls around and Foggy and Karen are packing up to head home, you’ve practically forgotten about your little afternoon fib.

You think nothing of it when Matt asks you to stay behind for a few minutes and help him file away the last bit of paperwork. Or at least, you tell yourself to think nothing of it, despite the thrill that goes through you at the prospect of being alone with him. You work for a little while in a nearly comfortable silence until Matt speaks up.

“So… that boy in your polysci class…” You glance up at him right away, surprised to hear him mention it. “Why’d you make him up?” His words make your blood run cold.

“Wh-what? What makes you-“

“I’m a lawyer, sweetheart.” The way the term rolls off his tongue so smoothly makes your thighs clench. “I know a fabricated story when I hear one.”

You swallow, wondering when the hell your mouth got so dry. It makes it hard to respond.

“I was just nervous to talk about-“

“No, you were lying.” He sounds so sure of himself, so matter of fact, that you don’t try to deny it again. “So tell me, why?”

He rounds the table so he’s standing just a few inches away from you, and the proximity makes you shiver. “Was it some sort of cover up? Trying to make it seem like you’re a normal kid, crushing on the first handsome boy you see?” He grips your chin, ensuring your face is angled to look at him. “Or were you trying to make me jealous?”

You stare at him with wide eyes, trying to remember how to string together words to form sentences. The truth rests heavily on your tongue- both. But you can’t bring yourself to admit that to him, not when his face is inches from yours. He’s so close that you can catch a whiff of his cologne- deep and masculine, subtly woodsy. You’d never been able to smell it before. He must not like a heavy scent.

“Well?” He urges, pulling you from your thoughts. You swallow thickly.

“I-I don’t know...”

“Don’t know, or don’t want to tell me?” You have to hold back a groan at the way he manages to see right through you. Your cheeks have never felt so warm. As always, he seems to read your mind, stroking a thumb across the balmy skin.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, sweetheart.” There’s that name again, threatening to make your knees give out. “I think it’s sweet.”

The hand not on your face finds your thigh, fingertips grazing along the skin just below the hem of your dress, making you gasp softly. Matt leans impossibly closer, and you can feel his breath fanning across your lips. His hand is starting to trail upwards.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He murmurs, low and gentle.

“I don’t want you to stop.” You whisper, too breathless to utter the words any louder. With that, Matt closes the distance between you, and your eyes flutter closed as his lips move against yours. It’s better than all your fantasies- the soft yet unyielding way he kisses you, the way his hand grips the back of your neck. You’d known you found the man attractive, but the way his tongue feels as it explores past your lips has you ready to drop your panties in an instant should he ask you to. And god, you hope he asks you to.

“How long have you been imagining that?” He asks once he finally pulls away so you can both catch your breath. You hadn’t noticed yourself doing it, but you realize your fingers are tangled in the fabric of his dress shirt, like you’re worried he’ll turn and walk away.

“Since I got the job.” You reply honestly, heart hammering in response to the grin that forms on his face. His thumb traces along the pillow of your lower lip, wet with both of your saliva, and his other hand finally moves under your dress and reaches the hem of your panties. He gives them a light tug.

“Take these off.”

You scramble to comply, hooking your thumb in the elastic before easing them down your thighs, just barely managing not to topple over in your haste to step out of them. Matt’s hand is out, palm up, and you hesitate at the thought of handing over the soiled garment.

All it takes is a raise of Matt’s brow for you to give in and drop them in his grasp. His thumb runs over the little bow in the center of the waistband, and his mouth twitches upwards. He lets out a murmured “cute” that has your cheeks burning. Then his thumb moves to the section of fabric that rests against your folds, and you cringe at the way it visibly glistens. Matt’s grin widens.

“Are you always this wet for me?” He taunts, rubbing circles on the slick fabric. You reply with a bashful mhm, your lower lip pulled between your teeth. He tosses your panties to the side, and they land on his desk with a surprising accuracy. Then he’s back on you, his hand finding its way back between your thighs. A shuddered gasp leaves your lips when he fingers over your clit, and you grip the table behind you for stability as he rubs a few skilled circles.

You whine at the loss of his fingers when he pulls them away, but you’re quickly comforted by the sight of his hands moving to his belt, undoing the buckle and allowing him to pull down the fly of his slacks.

“Hop up on the table.” He instructs- another order that you’re quick to follow. You watch with rapt attention as his bulging boxers are revealed, and you can’t help the gasp you let out when he fully frees his large cock.

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart.” He sounds as smug as he looks. “Your pussy’s nice and ready for me, you’ll take it just fine.”

“I know.” You whimper out breathlessly despite the rapid thrum of your heart. “I’m not nervous.”

He hums, not seeming to believe you, and leans back down for another hot kiss. You’re more responsive this time, moving your own tongue along his and even giving his lower lip a gentle bite, making the man groan. He hoists your skirt up to your waist, ensuring it’s out of the way so he can drag the head of his cock up your soaked slit. You shift your hips, chasing it.

“Are you ready?” He asks against your lips, positioning himself at your entrance. You nod, a movement he can feel, and in the next moment the head of his cock is pushing past the tight ring of your entrance.

Your head crashes into his shoulder and you let out a lewd moan into the crook of his neck, the stretch of his cock somewhere between agonizing and divine. Matt lets out a low groan.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me.” He’s still sliding in slowly, allowing you time to adjust to the feeling. Once he’s fully seated he starts to pull back out, and the pace he starts is slow and deep. He kisses along the side of your neck, near your jaw, and when he speaks the words are low and gruff.

“Such a good girl.” You moan at the praise, and you can feel that familiar smirk against your skin. “Thought you’d like that. Always so eager to please in the office, preening at the slightest show of approval. Fuck, always wanted to feel you clench around me when I tell you how good you are.”

That has you tightening around him like a vice- the admittance that he’s noticed you, that he’s been wanting this just as much as you have- and he growls lowly at the sensation.

He’s starting to pick up his pace, building up to quick, sharp thrusts that perfectly hit your g-spot and leave you trembling and whining near constantly. He leans down for another kiss, this one more sloppy than those previous with the force of your movements.

Your head swims, overwhelmed by need and pleasure and Matt. Your hands fly out to grip his shirt for the second time, fingers curling tight, desperate to keep him close. Matt lets out a breathless laugh.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He reassures, voice sweet and gentle. All you can do is whimper in response, and he shushes you, his hips never faltering. He brings a hand around to the back of your neck, cradling you in the juncture of his shoulder. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

“Matt, fe-els so good.” Were you more lucid, the high, lewd pitch of your voice and the way your words stutter would embarrass you.

“I know,” he might be mocking you, you aren’t quite sure. “Never had a real fuck like this, have you? Only ever fooled around with boys your age.” His lips are still against the balmy skin of your neck, and you can feel his breathing grow more sharp with exertion as his hips keep snapping into yours. “Feels so much better to have a man’s cock inside you, doesn’t it? Fucking you so full.”

“Yes.” It’s the most true moan you’ve let out yet, your pussy fluttering and your orgasm brewing in your lower stomach. Matt can tell- he can always tell- and he fucks into you so hard that he’s grunting with every thrust.

“I want you to cum for me, honey.” The table is shaking beneath you, jolting with the force of Matt’s movements. “I know you’re close. Let go for me.”

You couldn’t disobey him if you’d tried. The world is pure pleasure, everything blurring away except for Matt’s face in your neck and his breath on your skin and the way his cock feels inside you.

You get him for a few more thrusts, working you through your release, before he’s sliding out of you quickly. For a split second you don’t understand why- a confused whine leaving your lips at the loss- but then you hear Matt’s long, gravelly groan, and you look down to see ropes of cum shooting out from his tip. He paints your cunt, the table, and your inner thighs in thick streaks of white, hips stuttering and cock twitching all the while.

“Oh my god…” you pant out, staring down in shock as you slowly come around, beginning to process what just happened. Matt’s still just as breathless, and he still has his hands on you- one on your neck and one on your hip in comforting contact that keeps you grounded.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, finally releasing your grip in his shirt with slight chagrin. “Th-that was…”

Matt chuckles, seeming to realize that he’s rendered you speechless and mercifully accepting your incomplete sentence. “It was.” Another gentle kiss is pressed to your lips, brief and tender, and your heart does a somersault.

Your head is swimming with questions- how he feels about you, what this will mean going forward, just how soon you’ll be able to get his cock back inside you. But somehow you land on one to start.

“How long have you known?”

Matt laughs. “I’d say I had you figured out after the fifth “of course, Mr. Murdock!”” He mimics your high, eager tone, and you hit lightly at his chest, cheeks warming.

“God, was I that obvious?” You get another quick peck, and this time you get to feel his smile against yours.

“Just a bit.”

—

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greater-than-the-sword · 2 years ago

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Uh. The biggest Alex jones problem was that because he was denying Sandy Hook, his followers were actively harassing the parents of some of the kids that died. To a rather extreme point iirc

Part of being willing to participate in society is give up some of our rights (my right to be naked in my own house vs Walmart. My right to have hairspray at home vs the airport)

So it wasn't so much that he was saying nasty things, it's that he said things that caused people to then hurt others

A couple things.

It's claimed that he slandered the parents by calling them "actors", surely an upsetting charge, however people say upsetting things all the time about others. Now if he accused them of a crime or something, yes they can sue for slander/libel.

Now I'm not super studied in all the details of the court case, and probably none of us are because we weren't there, but they may potentially have a valid case for libel. BUT.

Even in MSM Jones' lawyers are quoted as saying this was blown out of proportion. As in, "I've been involved in more than 200 trials and never seen anything like this," one said, "there were no price tags or receipts to justify this amount of damages," that no actual metric was used to determine why hundreds of millions were owed (eg. in a libel suit normally these things are calculated by lost revenues due to slander, or property damage, some kind of therapist or doctor testifying about emotional toll, etc.) This was not done. The lawyers say it was as though it were a revenge quest to put Jones out of business and shut him up.

A really important point to me. Unless he said to them "hey go find those kids' parents and bother them" or something precisely to that effect, he can't be held responsible for some other unhinged person's actions. Is this how we want our legal system to be? Like twitter drama, where you have some kind of affirmative obligation to control your followers/fans and if you don't or can't, you're responsible for their insane behavior? Can you see how that will be abused? Not just against people like Jones, or Trump, but against anyone. All that has to happen is a person commits crimes in your name or says they were inspired by you, and bam, you're guilty of "incitement", even if you didn't actually say to them "do x", you just said something that sort of correlates with a worldview where a person might do x. And maybe in your worldview there are a million reasons not to do x, but your fan doesn't know that, so they go and do x.

Eg. If you and I live in the same house and I say to you, "I think our next door neighbor is a murderer!" and you go and kill him, that may be slander on my part, but even if it were knowing slander, it is not necessarily incitement because I have a strong belief that vigilantism is wrong, and it is also illegal to extrajudicially kill people, so it's an absurd logical leap to say that I intended, by saying this, for you to go and kill him.

More than that, this kind of logic is a dangerous tool of the state in finding ways to criminalize and convict people for the endorsement of any worldview they don't like. Simply: connect that worldview with some type of crime, find the crime, say that anyone who espouses the worldview incited the crime.

This could be used against ANYONE, not just conservatives. It could be used against liberals. Use your imagination, honestly.

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evilminji · 3 months ago

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:O my brain was too small n smooth.

My god, you're a genius.

Cause like? That's EXACTLY what they would and SHOULD do? I was thinking WAY too human-centricly? AND too monogamously! She's not out here saying "hey, who wants to marry?" She's out here? Saying?

"Hey. Who wants too help me repopulate our INCREDIBLY ENDAGERED Species?"

More Fathers? Would actually? Be BETTER. All the Father's, actually. Yes, please! Now that she thinks about it? Let's make this? A co-parenting? ORGANIZATION. Fuck polycule. Let's skip RIGHT past that into LEGION.

Negotiations must be both intricate and daunting. Thick enough to substitute for bedrock. Order Lawyers must both LOVE and DESPISE her. Cause, like? On ONE hand? Their names will be LEGEND. But on the OTHER hand?

The WORK that requires! (Why would you DO this!?)

Cause? Think about it? More Fathers? Means MORE protection for each individual offspring. Both collectively BEFORE they are born and AFTER they are born! Would YOU let your child's half brother be murdered? Yes, their Father is dead, but YOU are not. You could raise them, dispite not being your biological offspring. Have an emotional connection to them now.

Their chance of survival has just dramatically increased.

AND? If she divides the goo? Between multiple Fathers? They can FOCUS their attention, resources, and protection? On those fewer offspring! Better chance of survival. Quality vs Quantity, on TOP of Variety.

Should the worst come? As she fears it will? Each of those Fathers? ARE gonna take THEIR offspring and bolt! That's a scatter maneuver! The Sith gonna find ALL of them? REALLY? They haven't before. They won't NOW. All she has to do? Is load down each of THEM with Jedi history, teachings, philosophy etc? And it WILL survive the purge.

All it takes is ONE getting out, after all.

Plus? Wouldn't it be so MESSY? Lead the Galaxy on? "Oh who will I choooose~☆?" Yes. All of them. Harem of co-parents and I'm not even gonna marry one. Babies everywhere. Scandals for DAYS! They love to see it.

Turns out those mythic, untouchable Jedi? Aren't so different after all! (But of course, it's not like the LEADERSHIP is messy. No, no, THEY are Respectable. This is just some Nobody. THAT'S fine! If it was somebody IMPORTANT we might have begun to doubt them! But this? Oh ho HO! How stressful! Those poor Beings!)

I forget the name of it? But there is literally a fallacy? Where the mind tricks itself? Into thinking positively about someone for presumed improvement that doesn't exsist? If? At the FIRST impression? You do well, but THEN do less well after? They will perceive you negatively.

However! If your First Impression is Meh or Bad, but you then go back and show yourself to be "Improved" with what is your better (normal) standard of behavior? They will think HIGHLY of you. Look how HARD you work! How POLITE! Respectful! Trying so hard to IMPROVE! More people should be like you.

And just???

Messy Jedi? Normal Jedi. Over THERE is the Messy Jedi, with her scandals and then billion babies and Mandalorians and Senate hearings and-? Over HERE... is this Nice Polite RESPECTFUL Jedi with their cute lil Padawan. Padding after them like a duckling. Wittle serious expression on their smol face, as they try so hard to remember their etiquette lessons.

Do they mess up? Accidentally insult you? Yes. But they look mortified. Like they are going to cry. They are clearly trying their best and still learning, weren't raised amongst Polite Society like you were.

Honestly? How could you be mad? They are so respectful. So HORRIFIED when you point out what they accidently said. There, there, dear. What a Polite NOT-Messy Jedi. Thank goodness you got a GOOD one. (Jokes on you. They're basicly all like this.)

OKAY, FIRST? Like the Picture Says...

So!

Here I was, sittin', thinkin', pondering my thoughts. Thing to myself? "How could one? Presumably female, much like myself, Jedi repopul-" and THAT is when my brain, worn and weary, from years of The Internet? SLAMMED its fucking pint down on the bar counter, turned to me with an ugly scowl and sneered?

"You KNOW fucking how. Don't be coy."

( O.O) w-well alright then, brain. Little aggressive. Kinda wondering where you got the knife. I... I'ma just... go... *pint glass is thrown after me, shattering on the door as it just barely misses*

So! Yeah. Birth, probably. But STILL! That's like? Still ONE(1) fuckin Jedi right? And even IF Mr. "I am literally half midi-chlorians by blood" sired two Force Sensitives on his first go? That's no guarantee EVERYONE does?

Unless..... >.> we are taking into account a Force Sensitive RACE. THEN? Oh, THEN? It's not a matter of IF, but HOW MUCH. Enough to hit that arbitrary cut off point? What if you don't care? What if you say "everybody can be a Jedi"? Want to TRUELY spread the Light. Not just to those who are STRONG enough... but to EVERYONE.

There are a few races like that! But! That STILL? Doesn't solve the Puzzle! The Problem! Of how could One(1) VERY determined Jedi lady, who? Presumably is pretty cool with motherhood. Rebuild The Jedi Order, by NOPING™ out before Order 66.

Again, presumably AFTER taking on the role of Creche Master. And AFTER taking all the youngling on a Super Fun Unplanned Don't Tell The Other Grown Ups Suprise Feild Trip~☆ (yaaaaay!)(who wants snacks! Everybody got their travel bags and buddies? Let's gooooo~☆!)

Cause like? Still need a stable population. And enough Jedi to *obscene gestures multiculturally* at the Sith.

My? Proposal? We turn to the Wisdom of the Monster Fuckers. (Wait wait WAIT! Don't leave! HEAR ME OUT!) I KNOW this sounds like a sex thing! Not a sex thing! It's a "Who said Humanoid Meant Live Birth? Were fucking Aliens, Bro" thing! Just because? Our SI-OC? Was reborn AS a vaguely human shaped sentient?

DOESNT MEAN SHE'S A MAMMAL.

That weird hair color could mark her as some WEIRD, man! Fuck, for all we know she could be a fungus! It's vaguely body horror! You get over it! Adapt to new biology!

Learn?? You lay CLUTCHS. Fuckin EGGS. All baby making is external after the first bit. Something, something, easier to defend against predators. SI-OC doesn't remember that part. There was this high pitched ringing in her head then a thump. She was on the floor. May have fainted. What're you, a cop?

They offer her weird alien birth control.

She takes the birth control.

Learns she is a Rare and Near Extinct Species, a la Master Mundi. Learns it's VERY detrimental to her health to lay clutches. Takes a lot of resources, she can't LEAVE it, so with out a partner or community (or sufficient hoard of food) she WILL starve to death. It HAS happened.

No, seriously, look Mafame Che in the eyes. It HAS happened. And no you CAN'T "push your impulses into the Force". It's a biological imperative. Your body physically won't LET you.

Exactly three options. Babies born, they die, or YOU DIE.

......little intense. Got it. Yes she would like that birth control. She will continue to be both average and forgettable. Pay no attention to the Jedi Creche Master In Training! Oh look! It's kenobi! *yeets fellow jedi under the speeder*

Take some.... research trips >.> <.< >.> which is of course totally not scouting out new Temple locations! To the Wild Zone. Mmmmm, no one for WEEKS by hyperdrive! It's so calm out here!

Only took, like, 278 different planets scouted! To find the right one.

*starts building dwellings.* *starts directing "too old" Force Sensitives or Families that want to stay together and are willing to move, towards the location.*

New secret Jedi planet? Whaaaaat? Nooooooo. That would be illegal. Jedi can't break RULES! Don't be silly. Oh? Is that Skywalker? *same Speeder, new jedi. YEET!*

But WAIT! The War Approachth! D:> upsetting. Better get ready to give that "we totally need to Hide The Babies For War Reasons" presentation she has prepared. But FIRST?

A clutch. Got a transport pod ready to go. Got food stockpiled. Got the birth control out. Now? Just need a male! Too uh... contribute.

.......look, she wants her legion of tiny jedi babies okay? They glow like STARS. Everything is BETTER with them around. And she's kinda come around to this whole... disgusting slime... goo... Thing™. Cause I mean? At LEAST it's not pushing one OUT! ( o7 Padme, you have her respect. But also you are a madwoman.)

The Healers, are of course, FROTHING at the mouth.

YOU DUMB MOTHER FUCKER. They hiss, like healing and very concerned paragons of needle weilding fury. Where the FUCK are you going to just? GET?? A male of you INCREDIBLY RARE AS FUCK Species? You damn near dead and no longer existent species??!? You have DELIBERATELY put yourself in EXTREME medical distress! For WHAT?! Did you HAVE a plan!?

Yeah. :3 I call it Pulling a Yoda's Linage *Yoda ears move from Concern, to Intrigued*

*click*

..........what was that. Jedi SI-OC, What Was That?? *comms start blowing up* What did you just DO?

Oh :3c simple. She asked. It's the only polite thing to DO after all. She DOES need assistance. Surely someone would be willing to offer. If they can. How? You may ask?? Why look so CONCERNED Councilors! She simply assumed, that? Since there is no way of KNOWING where in the Galaxy surviving members of her Race are? And time IS of the essence? She SHOULD reach as wide an audience as she can, as FAST as she can... RIGHT?

>:3c so, of course, she posted her request to the Holonet.

Video and all.

"Grettings, I am Jedi SI-OC. I am an [race] and currently a Creche Master here at the Jedi Temple of Coruscant. I require the assistance of a healthy, willing Male of my species, as I have laid a clutch. And wish to have it fertilized. I would like to have children. We would, of course, discuss co parenting the children before beginning. I have, attached, further details. Thank you for your time. May the Force be with you"

Sexiest shit a LOT of people for egg laying races have seen in years. Well... those with Very Specific Jedi Kinks. Of course, no one ADMITS to jedi kinks. But like... you've thought about it. Don't lie. Everyone's thought about it. It's them and the Mandalorians.*commiserating noises*

But like? The NEWS CYCLE.

Holy SHIT.

Yeah, yeah, tensions and possible succession from the Republic. Sith plots in the background. But? *new casters violently clear their planned segments for THIS* JEDI? Horny on main!? Is THIS ALLOWED? IS this horny? What race is that? C-can other people volunteer? And if so, who? We take to the streets! Sir, what's your opinion on-?

OUTTA MY WAY, I'MMA BANG A JEDI! *frenzied mob like behavior*

*temple guards, unnamused.* back! BACK! Horny jail! For ALL OF YOU!

Just?? It's? So, SO? Important to me? That their are Mandalorian [race] that show up. Because the need to repopulate their people is more important then *scrunch nose* Jedi(ew). That it becomes the Galaxy's hottest Bachelorette show. WHO? Amongst these Fine And Acomplished Men? Will the Jedi CHOOSE? To have babies with! They ask.

And, presumably, marry and learn the power of family and friendship and emotions and be HEALED by LOVE etc etc.

There are shipping charts. It's horrifying. The talk shows LOVE it.

Council? Day drinking. Except for Mundi. He's just like "....but did you HAVE to you they Holonet? It's so MESSY >:/ everyone's in our BUSINESS now." Cause he's not a hypocrite. Grumpy asshole? Absolutely. But not a hypocrite.

Just? The single most "....who?" Jedi ever. Causing the BIGGEST fuss. Right at the worst possible moment, for Sidious. Causing an explosion of glee and hope and laughter etc, all across the Galaxy. Good feeling towards the Jedi. EVERYBODY talking about them. There's gonna be HUNDREDS more!

If she does this AGAIN (in a decade. Madame Che was NOT joking on the stress it puts on the body) there could be thousands new Jedi over the coming years! (Probably why the Sith fuckin wiped them OUT, not that she thinks about it. Fuckers. Who's laughing NOW?! Huh? WHO LAUGHING NOW?!)

Again! Very, unspeakably Ace. Not a sex thing. I just think I'd be funny? That the Forces answer to The Evil Sith plan was... Babies™.

What are we? Fuckin YODA?

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @hypewinter @mayfay

#star wars #long post #jedi #mandalorians #minji's writing

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hivequest · 3 years ago

Text

Gentle Hands, Confused Feelings » Tagora Gorjek/Reader

Wordcount: 930 words

Warnings: None that I can think of? Just some emotionally repressed Gor-Gor Originally posted on AO3

A/N: I said I was going to repost my fics here and then did none after the first oof. This isn’t one I’m super proud of but I love Tagora and missed him suddenly out of nowhere

You didn't like assuming things about people. That wasn't a good way to make friends and would probably damage any future attempts at befriending that particular individual. But still...

Something about this told you it wasn't exactly normal. Not even for an alien planet.

Tagora, one of your more upper-class friends, hasn't been looking at you lately. Much less looking you in the eye. Well, he really could only meet one of your eyes at a time because of the bangs that covered half of his face but usually he would at least to that much! Normally you wouldn't want to assume anything about your friend's behavior, but this seemed to be something even you couldn't ignore for the sake of politeness.

Actually, it wasn't right to say he wasn't looking at you. He seemed to be looking at you a lot, just never when you could see him. And each time his cheeks were tinged with a teal color as if he was blushing.

But that would be ridiculous, what would have to blush and get flustered for? That's stupid! You know cause he told you himself.

At the moment though, part of you wished he wasn't looking at you. Having his eyes on you made you feel exposed. Like his lawyer's eye could peel back your skin and see every single little fib you told in your life. The thought alone was stifling but the closeness of Tagora's face was another. All and all, you weren't doing so hot. But the touch of his hands brought comfort to you, leaving you in this weird limbo of wanting to melt and have his perfect claws scratch under your chin and this crippling anxiety that made you want to get up and bolt.

Tagora had let use his bathroom again but asked that you not touch his rainbowdrinker serum this time. He said he had something special planned. It ended up not mattering much cause when you went in to take your bath, it wasn't there. You'd thought maybe you could sneak a few dollops past your friend but he seemed to be one step ahead as usual. When you were finished and wrapped up in another one of his bathrobes he called you out. Which lead you to sit on one of his very pretty but very uncomfortable fancy chairs in total silence as he applied the serum to your face using his own hands.

"Normally I would charge you for the use of anything from my ablutiontrap, but because I'm the one who offered, I suppose you can't be held accountable." You assure him that you don't mind him adding it to your bill, you've been racking up a huge debt from him anyway, what's another bottle of some weird glowy shit thrown into the mix? He answered you with a shush as he begins to smear the lotion near your lips.

Wow, this certainly felt intimate. Huh.

"You don't need to worry about that right now. You've finished your regimen and your skin is finally getting smooth again after the last time you thought it smart to stroll during an Alternian day. Honestly, what will I do with you?" His voice sounded exasperated, and you were properly ashamed for causing him some distress, but there was no anger in his tone. He seemed actually...content? As if having you in such close contact was soothing to him instead of making him want to pull his hair out over what a hazard you are.

He'd told you once that while you were surely making him a lot of cases that he could use, you constantly finding yourself at the receiving end of some kind of obscure punishment or manglement wasn't something he enjoyed. You thought it was because of the trails of your weird human blood you would leave on his otherwise pristine floors but he snapped at you that wasn't the reason. He never did explain what he meant at that time, since that event you hadn't asked. Now more than ever, you wish you had.

Maybe that could help explain the weird situation you found yourself in.

You tentatively ask him why he's slathering you head to toe in his precious lotion. In response, he bit his lip and looked genuinely flustered. As if he's doing something bad.

"It's stupid. And I know it is. You're quite attractive as you are but there's something about seeing your glow that makes you... I don't know. Anyway, kindly shut up so that I can apply this to your face before you make wrinkles on your face years before your sweeps. Honestly. Just don't question my personal aesthetics or I will charge you for a makeover cost."

Oh, okay so he's just going to gloss over the fact that he called you attractive. To your face. While running his hands down your neck in a way that makes a shiver roll down your spine.

His hands freeze against your pulse as his mind catches up with his mouth. It was extremely rare that he spoke without meaning to, part of being in his caste. But around you, it didn't matter as much, which he realized wasn't entirely a good thing. His eye widens to a saucer and his whole face flares up a shocking shade of teal. In an instant, his hands are off of you and he's stumbling backward, slamming his knee against his desk and buckling with a curse.

You rise to help him but he quickly jumps back to his feet, bolting away into his hive and leaving you a half-done glittery painting.

What was that about?

#hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #tagora gorjek #hiveswap imagines #reader insert #homestuck #homestuck imagines #friendsim #x reader

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thekimspoblog · 1 year ago

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Saul definitely got a major ret-con, where they added the tragic backstory of a dead brother and a missing love of his life.

BRBABCS tries to be politically neutral, but as a show that's set in the real world, with real concepts like cops and money, what the audience takes away from it is always going to come down to your political alignment and the assumptions you entered the story with. I don't have a ton of experience, but from my 1 year in law school, I can report that the LAW is a deeply broken institution, which mostly serves just to protect the interests of the elite and powerful. To say that Chuck was right and "the law is sacred" is a valid reading... but I think Chuck's wrong. Jimmy treats these institutions with flippancy because flippancy is what these institutions deserve.

Jumping off from that, I subscribe to the philosophy that crime is not an aberration of society, but just another part of it. The only way to refine the social and moral codes is to be willing to cross the lines you perceive as arbitrary. Wexler-McGill serve the necessary, almost spiritual purpose of calling out hypocrisy and humbling the arrogant. Sure, they are also hypocrites, but that's between them and God. If BCS didn't want us to sympathize with Jimmy's cynical worldview, it probably shouldn't have validated that worldview at every turn: Chuck putting Kim in Doc Review was extortionate; Sandpiper and Mesa Verde were acquired through legal but unethical trade practices; the courts were happy to throw Mr. Acker out onto the street; Howard and Cliff were acting against the interests of their client by dragging out the settlement; businessmen shrug and say "There's a special place in hell for Wall-Street Executives" then go home to their big empty McMansions while most of us are living in a shoebox.

There are plenty of extremely intelligent lawyers right now speaking out about the corruption in the legal system, and most of those lawyers are women of color. Despite being a (flamboyant👀) white man, a lot of Jimmy's rhetoric feels like a conduit for that frustration and contempt with the system. All art is a product of the era it was made in, so I think no analysis of this show is complete without addressing the elephant in the room: that despite being set in the early 2000's, this show was made at a time when a brazen con-man was able to occupy the highest office in the land despite losing the popular vote, and we were watching some of the most important legal precedent of the Warren Court be overturned. BCS sets out to tackle the mindset of "History is written by the winners", but it fails to ever present an alternative to this idea and ends up endorsing it by default. Maybe because there is no alternative and "might makes right" is something the good-guys are going to just have to wrap their heads around. Not only do I think lawyers who are willing to "cut corners" are necessary for systemic reform and actual justice/equity, but the way fans discuss Jimmy going to prison, as if the state is owed the authority to punish/reform him honestly unnerves me. It shows that the Copaganda of Season 6 worked, despite the previous 5 seasons being rather decidedly ACAB. If anything, McWexler's failure was that they weren't ambitious enough. I mean I haven't completely disappeared up my own ass here; I know Jimmy isn't MLK writing from Birmingham Jail; he was for the most part a petulant man-child only concerned about personal slights. But my point is that you can have good effects even if your motives were impure; there was something rotten about how normalized the behavior of firms like HHM had become, and it was a service bringing them low. The problem was that in the grand scheme of things, McWexler had way bigger fish to fry than the likes of Howard Hamlin. I mean do you know how many white nationalists the Bar Association has let through? There's your chimps with machine-guns, Chuck! Wexler-McGill (at least their memeified versions) have such cachet as a modern Bonnie&Clyde, as naughty little anarchists, and in my opinion, their greatest sin was myopia and failing to live up to that potential. They didn't choose their targets thoughtfully; they'd plan ahead, but not make any contingencies for the hundreds of ways this Rube-Goldberg could fail.

Unlike Walt, Jimmy does have lines he won't cross. When Jimmy realizes his scam has cost Irene Landry her (honestly pretty shitty) friend group, he chooses to come clean even though it would cost him. He's content to do all the property crime (and light battery of rich adult men) he can, but when his options are between brutalizing Marion and running to hide in a dumpster, Jimmy's the guy who will pick the dignity of the dumpster.

Breaking Bad gave Walter numerous outs, and Walter refused all of them because of pride. Jimmy ends up enlisted into helping Lalo because of a stupid stunt Jimmy pulled 4 seasons prior. He visibly loathes the act of lying for a remorseless killer, but he does so under duress. DA Ericsen tried to toss him a life-preserver, but I can understand why Jimmy trusts Vacuum-Cleaner-Repair-Guy way more than he does the actual Witness Protection Bureau. I haven't watched Breaking Bad recently, but Walt's antics honestly feel pretty small in the grand scheme of things; Jimmy was already embroiled in the criminal world by then: Gus knew about Kim, Mike probably knew where Kim lived in Florida. If Jimmy didn't go along with the racketeering and the money laundering etc. I don't think Gus would be above giving the order to hurt her. The moral thing to do is always to tell the truth. The moral thing to do was not an option until after Mike and Gus dead.

Saul Wrong?

I have many controversial BrBa/BCS opinions, but the one that I always come back to is that Saul Goodman worked way better as a comic relief supporting character than as a protagonist of his own show.

I actually found him more likeable when he was an unapologetic sleazebag, it was when they tried to make me feel sorry for him in his own show that I lost sympathy. His pathological criminality brings out my inner Howard/Chuck, I guess. It's like....dude...why are you like this? And I don't necessarily feel like the show does a very good job of explaining it. At a young age he sees his father getting taken advantage of by conmen, and apparently accepts the (deeply morally cynical) attitude that the world is separated into hustlers (wolves) and marks (sheep.) His parents seem to have been totally normal people for whom he felt affection but no respect, because he can't stand rubes, and that's what they were. His brother Chuck is not a rube and is the family member whose affection and respect Jimmy seems to covet the most, though it's not clear whether he has any awareness that the very quality that makes his brother's esteem worth having (his commitment to an objective standard of morality—the fact that he can see through Jimmy's bullshit) is the one thing that prevents them from understanding one another.

Somehow the fact that Walt lived a (basically) normal life until his cancer diagnosis, and everything he does is predicated on his awareness of his own mortality, makes the character's moral fall from grace...more understandable to me? He obviously has a bunch of bottled up petty resentments and a sense of having wasted his potential, but I find his pathology way more coherent than Jimmy/Saul's. I think this is really because he was always the main character of a show, and Saul got a gigantic retconned deep backstory for the spin-off which, while enjoyable, was very obviously not the point of that character when he was created. BCS had to answer the question, "why would someone become like this?" but I wonder if there really is a particularly satisfying way to explain why a comic relief criminal lawyer would choose to work with a person like Walt.

I think BrBa did a better job of showing how Walt self-justifies his awful behavior (compartmentalization, projection, guilt) but Jimmy/Saul seems to have something missing (a sympathy chip? He's capable of feeling compassion for people he relates to, but no sense of seeing value in any abstract principle.) Why are you so obsessed with breaking the rules, dude? His brother is basically correct in their final conversation when he assesses Jimmy as behaving like a child who refuses to acknowledge the consequences of his actions beyond how they hurt him. Every moral consideration is made in terms of his subjective feelings. Him feeling entitled to a high-profile job at his brother's law firm when his brother had to bail him out of serious legal problems is really kind of insane.

Maybe the real problem for me is that Walt is obsessed with gaining respect and Jimmy is obsessed with being liked, and at the end of the day as a motivation for villainy in a man, I.....kind of find the latter more pathetic than the former.

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purple-goo-writes · 4 years ago

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Where on Earth is MDC?

Chapter 1

Richard “Dick” Grayson with all his 10 year old intelligence and circus know how was pretty sure of one thing and one thing only- there was no way his guardian, Bruce Wayne, was married. He may have grown up in a circus as an acrobat and wasn’t schooled the way kids were normally, after all most kids don’t have a circus clown teaching them math or a Lion Tamer teaching science- But he was not an idiot! Plus he was Robin! He helped Bats solve some pretty tough cases. He wasn’t letting Bruce try and pull the wool over his eyes! There was no way that Bruce Wayne was married-except maybe married to his work as a vigilante.

For one, Dick has never seen or heard evidence that Bruce was married or seeing someone in the whole two years he has been living in Wayne Manor as Bruce’s ward. Sure, Bruce claimed that his lovely wife was a globe trotter like her grandmother and rarely came home to roost due to how busy her schedule was... Dick called elephant-dung on that. There is no way some socialite would be out exploring the world when they could be hanging off Bruce’s arm gossiping at all the galas and parties Bruce had to hold for his business. Though he is only guessing that this is how high society women act due to only seeing this behavior from Bruce’s investor’s wives, dates and daughters.

He does find it odd that no one comments on Bruce never bringing a date to his own galas or other social functions. And that everyone when meeting Bruce glance at the odd silver ring Bruce always wears in place of a wedding band before giving those weird sympathy looks and subtle glances amongst themselves. Adults seemed to have their own language when it comes to greeting each other that Dick hasn’t been able to decipher yet. Though the Not-Wedding Ring doesn’t always detour the newer social climbing women from flirting with his guardian or trying to seduce him. Dick has been used many times as a human shield against said women and has come to accept/resent his fate.

Two, the young Robin has never seen so much as a tiny photo of the so called Mrs. Wayne! There are no portraits or photos in the manor that he has seen. While Alfred assures him that Bruce carries on with him every where, Dick hasn’t ever seen it not even after slipping away with Bruce’s wallet, just like Jackie taught him to do with the really rude patrons that came to the circus when he was younger. He made sure to return the wallet! He just wanted to see if maybe Bruce had a tiny photo in there like he had seen other men do, like how The Strong Man carried pictures of his husband and children around in his wallet. But, there was no picture in the wallet except for the one of him, Alfred and Bruce together in a family photo. When he saw the photo, Dick had teared up cause this meant Bruce did see him as family and not as an charity case like everyone at the Academy liked to say he was. Alfred claimed that the Misses was simply too busy to pose for a portrait to be painted and always preferred to be the one taking the photos anyway. While Alfred has never lied to him, Dick is still not convinced.

And three, Dick couldn’t find any mention of a Mrs. Marinette Wayne anywhere! Not even with the Batcomputer! All he could ever find was the latest travel logs of some woman named Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also known as the fashion designer MDC. Sure there were odd newspaper clippings now and then speculating when Mrs. Wayne would be returning from abroad. But those were not concrete evidence of her so-called existence! Honestly, it was starting to drive Dick up the wall with not being able to find anything about or on his guardian’s absent wife!

The ten year old was this close to throwing a tantrum like no other in demand to get answers. How was everyone convinced that Bruce was married? If he was, then where in the world was Mrs. Wayne?! Cause, Dick would really like to meet her. If only to shut up the voice in his head that was worried that if She was real that she would have Bruce send him away. After all a Circus Freak didn’t belong in High Society. Though Dick was starting to worry if Bruce was really a widower and his way of coping with the grief was to pretend that his wife was still alive and just on an extended road trip...

Though if that was the case then why would Alfred go along with it? Maybe Dick needed to go take a look in the Wayne Family Cemetery just to make sure...

Dick was broken from his musings by Alfred coming into the Manor’s library and clearing his throat, “Master Richard, Master Bruce wishes to see you in the Family Parlor Room. There is someone here he wishes for you to meet.”

That puzzled the child sidekick, but he simply shrugged and nodded, “Alright, Alfie!” Before hopping up from his chair and leaving the book he had been reading in the seat as Dick darted out of the room excited to meet someone new. Maybe it was one of Bruce’s lawyer friends again! Like Dent, who was nice and for some reason liked to comment on how much Dick looks just like Bruce in that odd teasing tone all of Bruce’s actual friends use when they learn he took Richard in. Honestly, Dick isn’t sure what is so funny about the fact that he looks like Bruce. Genetics are weird and he still refuses to try and understand them.

When Dick skidded into the Family Parlor Room, he was not expecting what happened next. Not at all. Because before Dick could even ask Bruce who was there, the ten year old was being swept up in a flurry of chiffon and lace as a lovely French accented voice started cooing over the tiny child in her arms. Dick would forever deny the startled squeak he let out and the fact that he blushed as red as his uniform top when he managed to get a good look at his captor. The person holding him could only be described as a heavenly beauty with long silky black-nearly blue hair and bright expressive blue eyes that exuded motherly love whilst she held him close in a gentle hug. Her smile made Dick think of the sun shining out from the clouds after weeks of rain and it radiated love, love that he could tell was aimed at him even though they had just meet. It reminded him so much of his own mother’s smile that Dick had started to tear up.

“Hello, ma petite colombe, it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” the heavenly being cooed at him, gently cradling the child closer with a gentle smile, “Bruce has told me so much about you. I’m so glad I can finally welcome you to the family.”

Marinette simply held her son, yes her son because even if he was not adopted yet Marinette already loved him like her own, close as the little boy broke down and started crying as he clung to Marinette returning the hug. She could tell he was relieved that she accepted him, honestly she warned her silly husband that Dick may be worried about her not liking him. Really, her silly love was just as silly as her Papa at times. She shook her head and tugged Bruce into the hug as well, so that he could reassure their little dove that they loved him and he was welcome in their family and home. Mari loved Bruce, but he was sometimes slow on how to approach emotional situations.

#mominette #brucinette #serial adopter bruce wayne #globe trotter marinette

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aneenasevla · 3 years ago

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Devil's Food - Chapter 6

MasterList /Ayami’s Profile/Previous

Chapter 6- Challenge

Fusui was waiting for her when she returned to the room.

“Soo?!” - she asks apprehensively “how was it?”

“... Enlightening” Ayami says, trying to sound calm, but a note of stress ended up coming out with it. Fusui didn't like that much.

“Arrgh, that bastard, I knew that!” she broke off, looking at her friend “‘he didn't hurt you, did he? You look fine to me…”

“No, not really, I think… does that look bad?” she shows the place where Raian had pressed her, and Fusui sighs when he sees the half red mark, whether from relief or anger, Ayami couldn't say.

“Aaaaaaargh, if he wasn't my brother, he would definitely be a son of a bitch!” the assassin's pupils contracted “I'm going to teach him a lesson, oh if I'm going to…”

“No, you don't have to” Ayami holds her shoulder “I called him a spoiled brat, so… I think, given your standards, he was kind of mild.”

Fusui makes a strange face.

“Girl, look, I don’t know what your fetishes are, but uh…”

“It's not a fetish, Fusui” Ayami blushes hard, but keeping a straight face “it's just that it's no use. And honestly, from what I've heard from you and seen from him, he didn't want to hurt me, but he wanted to threaten me, or even give me a warning. I think I'll be more careful next time…”

“Ayami…” Fusui holds her shoulders “I don't know what happened, but if you're doing this just because I said I wanted you as a sister-in-law, please don't. I may like you as much as I do, but-”

“Fusui” the woman looks at the Kure one straight in the eyes, holding her shoulders too “I'm not doing this for you, or because I have something loose on my head…” I'm doing this for my family, she wanted to say, but there was also another reason “I'm doing this because… because I felt the challenge. He challenged me to a duel. Not physical, I wouldn't stand a chance… but one of willpower. I want to see how far I can take it… and vice versa.”

Fusui looks at her friend, and then nods in understanding. She kind of should have known that she wouldn't back down after seeing him, from listening so much “okay... I'll believe you... but if he lays one more finger on you…”

“I get away, press the beep, scream, what can I do to call you and you fall killing on top of him” Ayami completes, rolling her eyes “satisfied?”

“For now” and the assassin lets go of the lawyer's shoulders “Good luck, then, Ayami.”

She then goes to step forward to hug her, but holds back. The lawyer sighs and opens her arms, then Fusui pulls her into a hug, lifting her as if she were nothing, even twirling her.

“Fusui, hey!” she tries to exclaim, but the other one had already put her on the floor “Fusui, really, that scared me…”

“Hahahaa, sorry, I got carried away” the girl smiles, letting go of the other “I really wanted to make sure you're okay. But I suggest an ointment on that neck, I don't think there will be a bruise, but better safe than sorry.”

“Right, and also a shirt with a slightly higher collar.”

“But please don't think that is normal. Yes, we are Assassins, but we are a family and we do not tolerate this kind of behavior within our own. Well, we have fights, but…”

“I won't, for God's sake…” Ayami grimaces “okay, I think I'll get ready for bed. I’m tired…”

“Okay, good night then” she bows a little and heads for the exit “Sleep tight” she says as she goes through the portal.

“Thanks”

Ayami saw the door close, and after taking off her skirt and folding it neatly, she lies down on the bed as she was. She let herself feel what she felt, taking a deep breath and finally releasing that initial fear, rationalizing it.

It was the first step to overcoming it.

…

“What was it this time, Raian…?” Hollis practically already knew who it was just by the way it was coming. He left the door open this time for his cousin to pass through.

“Yoooouuuuu…” Raian arrives suddenly and grabs the other's shoulders, trapping him on the edge of the door “what did you say to her?!”

“What I said? To whom?” he knew the best way to calm Raian was to keep his hands busy. Even if it was on his shoulders.

“That mouse!” his voice came out harshly, shaking the other one lightly “what does she know?!”

“Mouse? Ahhh…Miss Ayami…” Hollis didn't know why that nickname, but didn't question it. No other person would be on his nickname list if it wasn't someone he couldn't break their neck.

“I didn't say anything, if she knows something, you're the one who said it. And I said to you, She wouldn't be easy to bend.” Hollis shrugs.

“You found this creature and made her a candidate just to piss me off, didn't you? Well, you did it, I am pissed, you mother-!”

“I put her on because she's the same age as you” the older one lets go of Raian's grip, entering the office “Because she was the first to appear, because she's an interesting person. And because you were the first one in line, just for that.”

Raian follows him, still not changing his expression “Ahh of course, and the fact that she is an extremely annoying bitch is purely coincidental…”

“I know what I said before, but a little more respect would be nice” the cousin narrowed his eyes at him “but why now? Before yesterday you were even excited to meet her…”

“Before yesterday I didn't know that that idiot was a sly little fat mouse with a sharp tongue!”

“You think? She acted pretty normal to me…”

“To you any creature is normal, you ordinary dead-bear-hair.”

“Okay, you don't like her, so what?” Hollis opens his hands.

“If I don't like it?! Man, you put me a stone and you want me to turn it into silk?!”

“So that's it, don't you want her, does it hurt to say it directly?” He sits in the chair in front of the office desk. Raian stops short.

“Wha-? Is That simple?” He raises an eyebrow “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No. She just doesn't suit you, that's normal” Hollis rolls his eyes “If you don't want her, fine, it's not like you're the only single male in this clan…”

“Wait, so like, if I don't want her, will she give herself to someone else?”

“What did I say about respect?” the cousin shakes his head “no, she won't ‘give herself’ to someone else, she'll be transferred further down the line, to see if she matches another one of us. That's what an arranged marriage is, damn it. And honestly, it's even better this way” crosses his arms “she's a fine woman, and Reichii and I like her, if you don't want to, then get out of the way because there are those who want to.”

Raian froze a little in place, taking in the situation. For some reason, knowing that the woman was popular and that he had been the first to make the list somehow made something tilt in the Assassin's brain, a strange instinct, but that just hearing "if you don't want her, there's someone who wants” made him think about giving up. Giving up meant losing. And sure enough, he declared and proved with all the letters that he was the best, losing any measly thing to those idiots wasn't in his plans.

He had to make her give him up.

Hollis only saw him stop, stare at him with a mixture of confusion and indignation and then he growl low, one hand on the table. It looked like he was about to turn it over, but Raian just stared at his cousin with a defiant expression that could be described in just one word:

Territorial.

“Of Course fuckin NOT!” He gets up, taking his hand off the table without turning it over. “I won't give up, you think I'm weak, damn it?!”

“I never said that.” Hollis holds up his hands.

“If you cancel this shit I'll break you in half!”

“So will you continue? Do you think you can?”

“Are you insinuating that I can’t, you shaggy dickhead?!”

“Perfect, then. Go bother someone else, will ya? And see if you treat her with respect, you animal!”

Hollis didn't know if he'd heard, Raian had already disappeared out the door.

“For fuck’s sake…” the cousin grunted, going back to work “what a crazy guy…”

Next Chapter Here

#kengan ashura #kengan omega #kenganverse #heavybakery #kengan oc #fanfiction #raian kure #kure raian #kengan ashura imagines #devilsfood

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago

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“A Christmas Miracle” {ANGST}

Okay I don’t know if people saw before but my previous entry for @storiesofsvu was also named “A Christmas Miracle”-- but this is an ACTUAL Miracle, so I had to change it. The other story is now “A Boyfriend For Christmas”, okay?! Okay.

Also-- This is the “Christmas Eve” square for Holiday Bingo.

ALSO ALSO I wouldn’t normally just write angst but this again, was a very detailed dream I had. It was a bit different, he got shot by an arrow in the woods and I dragged him through the forest....didn’t really fit. lulz.

Warning: ANGST ANGST ANGSTTTTT! But a happy ending. Because, it’s Christmas. Duh.

----------------------

It was late Christmas Eve and both you and the ADA of New York City Rafael Barba were still sitting in a conference room trying to reach a concession. Literally everyone else in the office, both of your sides, had given up the fight. But you weren’t leaving anytime soon. You were caught in a tug of war with Barba, and you were not going to be the one to let go.

“You can’t just let him walk!!” Barba slammed his fist on the table for the hundredth time. “He’s known murderer and rapist, you can’t just let him out because you think he made an ‘effort’,”

“More than an effort, Barba,” You scowled. “Mr. Larsen has shown major improvement in both his psych eval and his behavior in the prison. Everyone thinks so, not just me,”

“He’s fucking PLAYING you, YL/N!” Barba started to get in your face, he was so livid he was spitting.

“Honestly I’m more scared of you than Mr. Larsen right now,” You pulled a conference chair in front of you to keep him from coming any closer.

“Oh my god…” He put a hand over his forehead and started laughing sarcastically. “Of course you would,”

“Excuse me?” You narrowed your eyes.

“You’d feel safer in a room of man-eating sharks versus a roomful of lawyers with morals, Miss Y/L/N,” He gave you an amused smile.

He probably should keep a cooler head than he was at the moment anyway, he was just so desperate to make you see the truth. Well, not the whole truth. The truth was he was worried for you. But he’d never tell you that. Hell he’d never tell ANYONE that.

“Oh whatever,” You scoffed, trying to hide your offense. You’d never admit it to anyone but you actually had very strong feelings for Rafael Barba. And feelings were dangerous.

“Look,” Rafael lowered his voice and tried stepping closer to you. You pushed the chair aside and sat in it, motioning for him to do the same.

“I’ve seen psychopaths like Erik Larsen play this game a million times. They know how to-- to ‘mimic’ emotion. It doesn’t mean they have any. And he certainly hasn’t learned anything about empathy,” He sat and spoke at the same tone, giving you one of those puppy dog looks. He was trying to manipulate you, you knew it.

“Oh, and you know that because you’re such an expert on feelings?” You laughed.

“Hey I’m not the one defending a murdering rapist,” He smirked.

“Even criminals need second chances, Barba,” You crossed your arms.

“NOT him!!” He raised his voice once more.

“Alright look--” You took a deep breath and glanced at your phone. It was almost past midnight, and you had been up since 6 am. You really didn’t want to start your Christmas arguing with the man you were secretly in love with.

“I’ll have the prison re-do the psych eval with a new psychiatrist, and I’ll be in the room,” You offered.

“Why would you--?” He started to ask, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I can see through bullshit, Barba,” You cut him off. “I see through yours all the time,”

“You’re ridiculous,” He rolled his eyes but started to gather his things and glanced at his phone. “Jesus, it’s late,”

“Hey, it’s almost his birthday!” You teased with a small flirty smile. Both of you caught the maybe too friendly gesture.

“Right,” He shook his head with a small smile himself as you both started to walk down the hall and soon you were both out the courthouse doors.

“Well, Merry Christmas Barba,” You nodded at him before turning and walking in the other direction to call a car. You were barely around the corner of an alleyway when you were met with a shocking sight.

“Oh,” You gulped. “Hello, Mr. Larsen…” You tried to stay calm. How was he here right now? It couldn’t be that he charmed the guards to let him out for Christmas, so you didn’t think it was a peaceful exchange that led to him standing here.

“You didn’t keep your promise,” He growled.

“What?” You blinked in confusion. What was he talking about?

“You said I’d be home for Christmas,” He growled deeper while inching towards you. “Well, it’s fucking Christmas counselor, and I was still in that fucking hell hole!”

“B-But Erik,” You tried to smile and keep your voice steady, but you were trembling in fear as you stepped back towards the street. “It’s just barely Christmas--”

“Oh, so were you on your way to give me the good news?” Larsen asked in a sarcastic tone as he continued to close the gap between you.

“N-Not exactly,” If you could just make it back around the corner, maybe Rafael was still waiting for his own car in front of the courthouse. He had to be, no one else was on the street this late on Christmas Eve. He had to be….

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Larsen pulled something out from under the coat he was wearing. A gun. And he pointed it right at you.

“B-But I can still--” You stammered.

“Time’s up, counselor,” He gave you one last smirk before pulling the trigger.

BAM!!!!!!!!!

The sound of the gun going off was like a firework being set off right in front of you. The pop was so loud, it knocked you to the ground. But you didn’t feel any pain. You opened your eyes to see Rafael Barba standing in front of you. He quickly slumped to the ground, having taken the shot meant for you into his abdomen.

“Oh my god,” You immediately rushed to his side, ignoring the fact that Erik had taken off into the night. You dragged Rafael towards the alleyway to prop him up against the wall while you dialed 911.

“Hello? Y-Yes the ADA has been shot. I-I know there’s a code for officer down, whatever it is that’s what you have. We’re at 1 Hogan Street, please hurry,”

You spoke a million miles a minute as you threw the coat you had on over his bullet wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. You didn’t care if you died of hypothermia, he was not going to die in this alleyway. Not on Christmas Day. Not because of you. He COULDN’T. As soon as the operator confirmed units were on their way, you dropped the cell phone to the ground not even bothering to hang up before your entire attention was immediately back on Rafael.

“Barba---Rafael?” Saying his first name felt so intimate, you had never used it before. You hated that this had to be the first instance. “Rafael, can you hear me?”

His green eyes fluttered, but they weren’t fully open. You knew he wasn’t totally conscious, but he had to stay awake. He couldn’t die.

“Rafael!” You raised your voice as you shook him, forcing him to look at you.

“...Y-You know taking a bullet for a girl is a little extreme for a Christmas present, don’t you think?” You did your best to keep lighthearted, making a joke out of a dire situation. It was your coping mechanism.

“Why--Why would you do that?!” You finally gave in to emotion, practically scolding him like a child.

“I…” He tried to speak over to the pain, but it was almost too much. “I…”

“You what?” You grabbed his face with both of his hands forcing him to look you in the eyes.

“I love you,” He simply said before slumping out of your grasp into the wall once more.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, tears quickly filling your throat and eyes. “Oh my god,”

He loved you. Rafael Barba loved YOU. He loved you so much he had taken a bullet for you in the middle of an alleyway on Christmas Eve/Day. All those moments in the courtroom, all the arguments-- all this time?

“HEY,” You pushed yourself closer into him, applying more pressure to his wound while you tried to speak without sobbing. “Who do you think you are, huh counselor? You choose now of all times to admit that you love me? What kind of cowardice is that?!”

He didn’t respond.

“Y-You can’t just tell a girl you love her, and then--” You stroked his face then slapped the side of it incredibly hard, causing a reaction from him.

“Owww,” He moaned, rubbing his cheek.

“You can’t sleep right now, okay?” You got in his face on his level, pressed so far into his body it was like you were one.

“But I’m so tired--” He moaned.

“Um,” You did your best to think of something, anything to keep him awake until the ambulance got there. It felt like it was taking forever.

“W-Why do you think you love me, huh?” You did your best to sound sassy. “I thought I was the heartless bitch letting a psychopath run wild,”

“N-No,” He weakly lifted his hand and put it over yours that was clutching his tie against his chest, his eyes fluttering open to look into yours once more. “I’ve loved you since the day you stepped into the courtroom on our first case,”

“In that ridiculous hot pink pantsuit?” You half laugh half cried, thinking back to your very first case against each other three years ago.

You had just gotten out of law school. A bit of a savant, you had earned a coveted slot in a battle of the smartest, snarkiest ADA New York had ever seen. You wanted to be flashy, like Elle Woods. You were only 25, you didn’t know any better. But you must have made some kind of impression-- you just never knew it was a good one.

“You looked like the Pink Panther,” He smiled weakly at you.

“I’ll assume that’s a reference over my head, old man,” You laughed while still crying as you teased him about your age gap. He moaned louder as you noticed the blood was now seeping through your coat. You began to panic; he was losing consciousness. You had to do something.

“I---I feel the same way, Rafael,” You blurted out.

Maybe you were a heartless bitch. The man was literally dying in front of you and you didn’t have the balls to say you actually loved him? Luckily, it was enough for Rafael at the moment. He opened his eyes and looked at you with the biggest smile he could muster.

“Say it,” He managed that perfect little smirk of his despite bleeding out into the middle of the NYC night air.

“Really?!” You gave him a look. “Can’t it just be assumed--”

“Say you love me, counselor,” He did his best to sound as serious and demanding as he did when he was really hammering a point in court, but it was hardly a stern warning.

“...I love you, Rafael,” You finally let tears just flow out of you freely as the words fell from your lips. “I always have,”

“Knew it,” He laughed softly, making you laugh which made you cry harder while laughing. He raised his hand to stroke your wet cheek while looking into your red and glassy eyes.

“Kiss me,” He gave you a sad smile.

“No,” You shook your head.

“No?” He asked, shocked.

“No,” You shook your head harder. “No, our first kiss will NOT be here, in the dirty alleyway of Manhattan. That’s not how I pictured it. It was supposed to be perfect,”

Your words drifted off into sobs once more. You couldn’t pretend anymore; you had imagined your first kiss with Rafael a million different ways a million different times. And NONE of them were like this. If you kissed him now, that would be admitting defeat. That he was going to die here in your arms in the dirty street in the freezing cold on Christmas morning. You couldn’t have that memory etched in your brain forever.

“Please, carino…” He whimpered, his face pale and body getting colder.

He had never used that term for you, not once. You knew it was a term of endearment, and a quite intimate one at that. Usually when Rafael would get extremely passionate or angry, he would start muttering and swearing in Spanish across the room at you. It drove you nuts, and not in a bad way. Hearing it so soft and sad now broke your heart into a million pieces.

You desperately looked every which way for any sign of any car, any siren. They had to get there in time, didn’t they? After several seconds of praying to every higher power you could think of including Santa Claus, you forced yourself to look into his green eyes. Usually they were a bright emerald, but now they were a lighter shade….and getting dimmer by the second.

You had to do it, you couldn’t put it off anymore. You couldn’t fool yourself into thinking some kind of Christmas miracle was going to occur. He was going to die in your arms, and if you didn’t kiss him now you would never get the chance. You very slowly pressed your warm pink lips against his cold blue ones, throwing in one last wish that maybe somehow it would be the “kiss of life” like a fairy tale or something.

It was nothing like you imagined. It wasn’t romantic or passionate, it was barely a kiss at all. You pressed harder, slightly slipping your tongue between his lips. He was too weak to return the favor, but it was still the most beautiful kiss you’d ever had. Because it was him.

Just as you pulled away, you saw a smile spread across Rafael’s face for a moment, and then fade. And then his eyes closed, as his body ran cold.

“No,” You whispered, your perfect moment being shattered to the ground like a million pieces of glass. “No no no no no!”

“Please, please don’t do this Rafael…” You shook Rafael’s lifeless body, begging him to somehow return to it. His eyes remained closed,

“I’m-I’m sorry I never told you I loved you before,” You sobbed harder as you began apologizing to a corpse. “I should have told you every day, because I have loved you from the second I met you, and every day since,”

“Please, oh please please please PLEASE Rafael. I swear to you I will tell you I love you a million times a day. No matter how much you piss me off with your stupid little morality speeches and that stupid way you crack your knuckles when you’re about to do a cross. I love every bit of it, god I love you so much--this isn’t FAIR!!!!!!”

You could hear distant sirens finally approaching, totally unaware they were too late.

You cried into his chest now after your screaming and sob filled rant. You could still smell his cologne and the probably way too expensive product he used in his perfect coiffed hair. You couldn’t stop the tears from coming as you gripped his chest tighter and tighter as if that would pull wind into his lungs. Finally, you gave up, releasing his torso and resumed just sobbing into his shoulder, never wanting to leave his side.

The sirens became louder as they drove closer, the morning sun was peeking out over the New York City Skyline. It was Christmas Morning, and here you were with the love of your life--holding his lifeless body. It was too much. You willed your now freezing body to just shut down with hypothermia to join him, but then you felt something.

You felt a hand on your back. You assumed you must have blacked out and the calvary had arrived to “rescue” you, but as you raised your head up you realized you still heard the sirens a distance away. Your eyes immediately went to the arm of the hand on your back-- Rafael. Rafael was rubbing your back.

“Oh my god,” You swiftly grabbed his hand and pulled his arm around you as you shook him violently. “Rafael?? RAFAEL,”

To your absolute astonishment, Rafael’s eyes fluttered open once again. He was alive. He was ALIVE.

“Crying’s not a good look on you, counselor,” He smirked weakly. “You look like a raccoon,”

“Are you kidding me?” You cry laughed before kissing him once again, this time he returned it with full force. After a few seconds you pulled back, still in disbelief.

“I--I don’t understand,” You searched his eyes which were now fully awake and alert. “How are you--?”

You looked down at your coat to see that it was drying up, not getting more and more soaked with fresh blood. You removed it to see Rafael’s shirt ripped to hell against his stomach, but no bullet wound.

“What the--?” You gawked at the clean skin.

“True love’s kiss?” He shrugged with a smile at you causing you to hit him lightly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake 'Prince Charming', this isn't a Disney movie," You rolled your eyes.

“Then you explain it,” He gave you a snarky smile.

“I…” You ran your fingers over his bare, unscathed stomach. How was this possible? It couldn’t be possible, could it?

“...I’m not going to question a Christmas Miracle,” You finally smiled.

“Oh, a miracle, hmm?” Rafael said with much more sass, he was feeling much more like his old self. “Well, I guess somebody up there must have a soft spot for sharks,”

“More like he rewards good little Catholics like you, altar boy,” You bit back with a sneaky smile before kissing him again and again.

“Oh, and--” He pulled away for a moment and looked at you very seriously. “Am I wrong, or did I hear something about you telling me you loved me a MILLION times a day?”

“You--” You blinked at him in shock. “You heard that?”

“Why else do you think I came back, hmm?” He wiped stray tears that dripped down your cheeks-- happy tears this time.

“I love you, Rafael,” You ignored his sass joking manner, wanting him to know how you really felt while he was awake and cognizant. “I love you, I love you, I love you,”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He stroked your face before kissing you softly again. He would never stop kissing you now, not if he could help it.

Soon ambulances and cop cars came speeding up, people jumping out of all of them. They began examining Rafael, but couldn’t find a single injury. They warned the two of you for phony phone calls before driving off back into the growing traffic.

You two shrugged and laughed to yourselves as you walked hand in hand down the quickly filling sidewalks of people bustling around with Christmas cheer.

You two never spent another Christmas apart again.

Tag List

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#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #rafael barba angst #storiesofsvu #storiesofsvu bingo #storiesofsvu holiday bingo #christmas eve #raul esparza #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction

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cassandraclare · 4 years ago

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I'm sorry to hear that your hard work was leaked but I was curious about what happened. I hope the person faced consequences because that was a very selfish thing to do leaking your work like that :(

I haven’t taken action against the person who leaked the book. I know who they are, since they uploaded the page I signed for them, and I was able to match that against my records.

I haven’t refrained from taking action because I feel sympathy for them. I don’t. It’s beyond shitty behavior to receive an early, signed book as a gift, and to then leak the entire book online. It’s a shit thing to do to the authors and an equally shit thing to do to other fans. However, I don’t want to put myself (and Wes) through the exhausting, grim and expensive process of legal repercussions. It doesn’t mean what this person did isn’t horrible, and it doesn’t mean they haven’t cost the entire fandom any chance of there ever being an early contest giveaway like that again. They did. There never will be. There will be no ARCs of Chain of Iron, either, and you can thank them for that, too.

Part of what makes piracy such an issue for authors goes far beyond the individual assholes who upload and distribute and translate stolen books. It’s that the whole system is set up to make it incredibly difficult for us to do anything about it. Publishers do little to nothing to prevent piracy, and authors shoulder the entire burden of searching out and reporting illegal copies of their books. And even then, we’re dependent on whether or not the reported website feels like complying with copyright laws or not. Twitter is incredibly slow to respond, Tumblr is about fifty-fifty on bothering at all. They’re legally required to take action, but they also know that the effort of doing something about it if they do not falls on exhausted, overburdened artists who often can’t afford to follow up with a lawyer’s letter.

And like, I get being broke and wanting to read books; there were a lot of books I had to pass up reading when I was broke (I will be forever grateful to the library system of New York and Brooklyn, which is how I read books at all from about 2001-2004.) I was broke enough that I slept on a bare mattress because I couldn’t afford sheets, but I’m pretty sure if I broke into Bed, Bath and Beyond and stole a bunch of fitted percale bedding I wouldn’t have encountered much sympathy if I got caught.

I talked about this on Twitter before, and I’ll say it again here though I know it will make very little difference: pirating books doesn’t just hurt the author of those books. It hurts everyone at the publishing company, where the margin of profit is razor-thin (and yes, publishers should do more to protect themselves against piracy; I agree there); it hurts bookstores, especially indie bookstores (I remember doing an event at a store that told me, sadly, that they were likely going to have to close because people “came into the store, looked at the books, took notes, then went home and pirated them.”) It hurts libraries, who rely on circulation for funding, and the shutting down of libraries hurts people who actually can’t afford books.

Now, I know is no way to talk people out of piracy; the internet has normalized it, and besides, people will generally do the cheaper, easier thing — you can’t talk people into not doing something they want to do by telling them it’s wrong, in my experience. They’ll find ways to justify it, whether it be that they can’t afford the book or it isn’t yet available in their language or that they find the author “problematic” and this is the way they’ve chosen to punish them.

The reason I put “problematic” in quotes is because yes, of course you can read and enjoy work that has problematic elements. Pretty much everything has some element that’s going to be found problematic by someone — which is exactly why deciding that it’s morally excusable to steal from people you think are creating flawed work is more than problematic. Holding creators accountable for their work means critiquing that work, not stealing it.

I listen to a lot of political podcasts, and some of them review work by extreme right-wing politicians etc. who have written books that the podcasters find morally despicable but wish to, or need to, review and discuss. Since they don’t wish to give money to the authors, they buy second-hand copies or take the book out of the library. They certainly don’t steal, translate and distribute copies of the books because they genuinely do not like them and do not want more people reading them. That’s what it looks like when you have an actual moral problem with a book or author.

However, running multiple fan accounts for a book series, naming your internet identity after characters from that book series, and talking endlessly about “your favorite parts” and how this is “your favorite book” entirely invalidates any argument that you’re doing this because you think the books are bad, evil, etc. If you claim a book is actively homophobic or racist but are so desperate to read it that you’ll steal it, so excited about it that you’ll share that stolen copy, so obsessed that you’ll illegally translate a whole book and provide that stolen translation to as many people as possible, and so dedicated to the fandom that you’ll name yourself after the characters in the books and write poetry about them, I have to tell you: the last thing that looks like is that you actually find the books problematic, regardless of what you say to the contrary. It looks like you like them but don’t want to pay for them, because in fact, that’s the case. (Either that or it looks like you’re really into racist, homophobic books, and making sure as many people read them as possible, which is your problem.)

One of the issues I have with piracy is that it teaches you to hate creators. You have to hate them, because you’re doing a fucking awful thing to them and you have to justify it. This results in lying about creators — about their process, their translations, their research — as if somehow, even if they were bad researchers, that would justify widespread theft. (It doesn’t.) Those who steal books wind up in a headspace where they are obsessed with the content of the books, and entirely unwilling to accept the reality that those books were created by a real person that they’re really harming. It encourages the mentality that I didn’t create Jem or Magnus or Will or Cordelia: they came from some kind of sparkly outerspace planet and I was just lucky enough to get to write down their adventures. It invalidates the hard work creators put into what they create, and in fact, erases their very existence. The internet attitude toward creators is already incredibly toxic (especially if they’re women, LGBT+ and/or BIPOC) and the feeling of entitlement to free content, and vicious hatred toward those who aren’t providing it (even though a lot of creators, me included, provide a great deal of free content) contributes to that. Genuinely, if you’re stealing someone’s work, the least you could do is not also be an asshole about them. (Or pretend you’re Robin Hood. He stole from the rich who had taken property and goods from the poor, and returned that stolen wealth. He didn’t steal from artists and independent bookstores and use that stealing to benefit himself and his friends. The idea is actually kind of funny.)

I understand there is a pressure to be up to date on the books that are being released so as to participate in fandom, and I do get that. Unfortunately, piracy has real consequences that stretch beyond just hurting me and Wes. Because LGBT+ books are pirated at such an incredible rate, and we’ve definitely seen that with TEC, I am left wondering if there will ever be an actual Spanish translation of TEC, or whether the publisher will decide not to bother because it’s already been so thoroughly pirated in Spanish. I have to wonder if there will even be a third book of TEC at all, or whether publishers will feel it isn’t worth doing. And I have to wonder why the people who create this situation so often have usernames that include Jem or Magnus or Alec or Cordelia or Julian or Tessa. What an incredible misunderstanding of those characters, to imagine a world in which Will Herondale or Magnus Bane or James Carstairs would approve of stealing books and harming writers. And why name yourself after a character who absolutely couldn’t stand you? I don’t know. I don’t get it, any more than I get hating someone who provided you with something you claim is your favorite book.

That was a much longer answer than you were probably expecting or hoping for, and I know I’ll get yelled at quite thoroughly for writing it. Writers always do, when we engage with the issue of piracy. I know most of you reading this acquire your books honestly; most of you are not like this at all. But like most things on the internet, a small amount of people really do have the power to make things pretty rotten for everyone else.

#brother-sixpackariah-carstairs #piracy #tda #tlh #tec

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hyperfixationtimego · 4 years ago

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Celeste somehow manages to balance on the top of the chair and puts her feet on the seat part, it’s a challenge now to find a chair she can’t sit on (she likes to feel tall even though she’s already the tallest of the class, excluding Yasuhiro because. he’s a grown man)

Asahina manspreads too much, like she looks like she’s doing the splits while sitting

Sayaka always sits close to a wall and she’ll lean back until her chair is leaning against it. It calms her down, but sometimes she forgets when she’s not against a wall and will just fall (Leon also leans, but definitely not as much)

Togami always holds his arms behind the back of his chair. It’s just a stim he does, but he’s convinced the class that it’s some fancy etiquette. Most of the time people think someone snapped and tied Togami to a chair when they see it for the first time

Ibuki sits with no caution, the way she falls in that beach pic??? that’s just how she sits down, full lean into freefall. She breaks a lot of chairs

Peko relaxes her whole body and it always looks like she’s sleeping. She models it after a cat, where she can jump up at any threat, but she ends up actually falling asleep a lot (honestly she has insomnia but she refuses to admit it, so she’s constantly tired)

I don’t know a lot about these guys but I’d like to try;

Kaito sits with his legs up on the armrests. It looks so uncomfortable but he likes it so. the other students are just concerned but letting it happen.

And the mechanic man will sit under the chair. Nobody knows how he does it because he’s so tall, but he will fit under any chair and hang out

Oh and Mikan picks at chairs, she will disassociate and just rip off pieces of fabric or plastic. It scares the shit out of Monokuma - queer eye anon

YEAH DUDE YEAH

god okay I couldn’t find the comic it made me think of, but I imagine the first time Makoto sees Celeste sit Like That™️, he accidentally walks in on her and Kyoko and hears Kyoko just very casually ask “are you sitting up there because you want to feel closer to god?”

you know the one with the cat on the counter?? and the artist mentions that it was something that happened between with them and their roommate?? yeah that one!!

anyway he is obviously confused and concerned but slowly comes to realize that oh no. this is literally just how everybody in his class performs normal everyday behaviors. (That being said, he definitely crosses his legs while sitting ❤️)

*pats hina gently* this gal can fit so many adhd

she probably leans forward and puts her hands on the seat of whatever chair she’s in!!! she looks like an excited little kid!! She puts so much energy into everything she does, even literally just sitting down!!!

SAYAKA LEANING AGAINST THE WALL IS VERY POG and I am also a fan of her rocking back and forth!! Just the little movements that are calming!!

and being against the wall itself is so nice!! There’s something about the angle !! Like almost laying down, but still being alert and participating in active conversation is probably very soothing for her!!

Sayaka 🤝 Leon

Everybody laughing at them when they inevitably fall off their fucking chairs after leaning too far back without a wall behind them

AKSJSMDND OKAY BUT FOR TOGAMI I BET SOMEONE’S TAKEN THE OPPORTUNITY TO ACTUALLY TIE HIM TO THE CHAIR THOUGH

LIKE JUST AS A LITTLE PRANK,,,,,,A MINOR JOKE,,,,,,,,

my suspicion is that it would be either Nagito & Kokichi, or Sayaka, Leon, & Kaz, or Jill, or actually you know what there are quite a few very good candidates HSBSMDN

in any case he gets ROYALLY pissed off and threatens whoever did it with “YOU’LL BE HEARING FROM MY LAWYER-” which he never actually follows through on obviously

IBUKI BREAKING CHAIRS,,,,,YEAH AKSHSMDBDDN

god how many times has she been called into Jin’s office just for him to audibly sigh like “Mioda this is the fifth piece of school property you’ve broken this month just by sitting in it.”

that man is so tired somebody save him

but anyway that’s also how she sits on people’s laps??? like romantic or platonic, if someone is “*grabby hands* come here ❤️” while sitting, she straight up fucking flops down onto their lap without remorse and kills them on the spot HSKSHDN

[*dying Chihiro noises in the background*]

oh god actually speaking of Chihiro

they kneel. they just kneel on the chair ❤️

THERE HAVE BEEN SO MANY TIMES WHERE PEOPLE HAVE ASSUMED THAT PEKO WAS ASLEEP ONLY FOR HER TO ABSOLUTELY SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF THEM

like she is tired and stressed so she rests her eyes sometimes, or people will just assume she’s sleeping with her eyes open, maybe

For example, Kokichi has, on more than one occasion, nearly gotten his wrist broken for attempting to draw on Pekoyama’s face while believing her to be asleep ❤️

Shuichi: um. Kaito. Are you….okay???

Kaito, sitting in the most ungodly position possible: yeah dude ofc why what’s wrong

important to note tho that Momota IS willing to sit normally but only if it’s because he’s trapped Shuichi with a hug, meaning Saihara is now sitting on his lap 😳💓💖💖💖

Shuichi rarely ever initiates stuff like that but GOD does he melt into it

AKSJSWLDJDJ KAZUICHI MY BELOVED

he just likes the floor :)

but he’ll also sit on a table/counter if one is available!!! literally anything to Not Sit On the Seat Part of a Chair™️

Hajime: why do u literally sit UNDER the chair

Kaz: h-

Gundham: because as my paramour, he wishes to be closer to my domain

and Kaz is just actually it’s because I’m neurodivergent as fuck but….u know what yeah man sure :)

GOD I LOVE THAT FOR MIKAN

like she just sits there staring off into space with a vaguely terrified, wide-eyed expression, and the only things mobile about her body are her hands, which are simultaneously casually and viciously causing irreparable damage to school property…..absolute queen shit ✨

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hot-wiings · 4 years ago

Text

The One Where Their Childhood Friend Is Abused.

Edited: 3-22-2021

Izuku Midoriya

🐢 Izuku quickly finds out that you’re being abused.

🐢 He really beats himself up for having not noticed when you were just kids.

🐢 Back then he wouldn’t notice the signs and then you just suddenly stopped being friends with him.

🐢 Now that you were older and had since reconnected he easily spotted the signs.

🐢 As perceptive as Izuku is, he most likely discovered it while trying to write about you in his hero book.

🐢 While observing you he noticed the signs of abuse and confronts you on it.

🐢 Having grown close you tell him the truth.

🐢 Izuku’s mom is gonna take you in and get you to live with them.

🐢 He really encourages you to go to therapy for all the traume you went through.

🐢 He’s gonna get really protective of you.

🐢 God have mercy should Katsuki ever be mean to you, Izuku will grow a backbone.

🐢 Honestly Izuku is really wary of what he says and acts as to not trigger you.

🐢 He’s really patient in getting you back to normal behavior and out of the habits you had developed being abused.

Katsuki Bakugo

💥 It takes Katsuki a long time to figure it out.

💥 You used to be friends and once he meets you at UA after years of you being gone he’s quick to try and be your friend again.

💥 Even if he acts like he’s not eager and happy to see you.

💥 While Katsuki is pretty observant, he’s been really busy.

💥 He just got to UA, then there’s his business with Deku. He’s been more in Izuku’s business, too fixated on him and where his quirk came from to pay real deep attention to other things.

💥 However, Katsuki will begin to pick up on the little cues, you complaining about your parents, getting skittish at loud sounds, scared of setting people off, random cuts and bruises, etc.

💥 Katsuki will confront you about it more than once.

💥 He did it a bit too harshly at first, ultimately making you shut him down. He will have to confront you a couple more times until he realizes being rough about it probably isn’t the best way to confront a victim of abuse.

💥 A bit unorthodox, and probably illegal, but Katsuki will track down your abusive legal guardian and threaten to blow them up.

💥 Being noticed as the sludge villain kid, furthermore, one of the kids being taught by All Might is enough to scare them into being less violent to you.

💥 Katsuki is the type to fixate on something he did or didn’t do in the past and wish he did something different, he’s really going to hate himself for not noticing earlier on.

💥 Katsuki will be watching himself considerably.

💥 He doesn’t want to scare you by being too aggressive, or loud and therefore triggering you, he will struggle but try to be gentler.

💥 Katsuki will definitely watch you closer, he’ll become way more protective.

💥 If anyone is aggressive or rude he will 100% hurt them when you’re not looking.

Shouto Todoroki

❄ When you randomly just stopped being Shouto’s friend he assumed it was his father’s doing. It wouldn’t be the first time his father forced him to stay away from another child.

🔥 When Shouto finds you again at UA he’s ecstatic and he fastly comes to the conclusion that you’re being abused.

❄ As oblivious to things as Shouto is, coming from his own abusive home he spots the signs so easily.

🔥 You acted like his mother a lot.

❄ Shouto doesn’t confront you as to not scare you away. You’d only just gotten back in contact and he doesn’t wanna wreck that.

🔥 Shouto will wait and be there for you until you’re ready to open up.

❄ Before you open up to him Shouto will become very protective of you.

🔥 He’ll start observing your interactions with people more, and he’ll observe you at lunch.

❄ He doesn’t know what exact situation you have at home and he wants to be sure you’re not having any additional physical stress added to your body and he wants to be sure you're not getting starved.

🔥 Once you open up to Shouto he will do the best he can to comfort you. He doesn’t have the best people skills and isn’t sure what to do in a situation like this.

❄ He is going to convince you to get out of your situation.

🔥 First he’s gonna convince Nezu to let you live in the dorms full-time, then he’s even going to pay for the best lawyer he can find.

❄ If your parents still try to fight for custody of you and fight your emancipation, Shouto is going to use his influence as the number two heroes son to ruin their lives.

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years ago

Text

Out of My League [Part 3]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: Nothing brings two friends together like a bit of grief with a side of daddy issues. (Mixed POV, includes flashbacks)

Warning(s): As the summary states, angst, grief and daddy issues, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of cancer, a few swear words, i think that’s it??? i use the word “smile” like 138407894 times i’m so sorry i hate noticing my crutch words

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry how long this took I honestly have no excuse, this chapter isn’t even that great but this is only two thirds of what I actually intended this part to be so GUESS WHAT I SPLIT IT UP!!!! the next part shouldn’t take too long (I say that but watch it’s gonna take like another year) and it’s gonna be super fluffy so DON’T Y’ALL WORRY IT’S GONNA BE FLUFF CENTRAL FOR THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

WASHINGTON D.C., 2007

(Reader POV)

You had only been to D.C. a few times before to visit your dad, normally under happier circumstances, such as him getting sworn in for another term, but this time was not the case. You got the phone call from your mother the evening before when you quickly packed yours and Jamie’s bags for the flight that left later that night. The few hours you had spent in D.C. already felt like long days. You were physically and emotionally exhausted. Jamie had never been on a plane before and was grappling with the effects of jet lag.

You needed a bit of a pick-me-up yourself, so you ran over to a coffee shop for a bit of a change of scenery. It was about eight o'clock in the morning when you heard your name being called, but not by the barista making your drinks, but by a familiar voice that you had only heard over the phone for a couple of months since his last visit home. You turned around to face the source and locked eyes with Spencer.

“Hey!” You smiled, trying your best to not look like you had just had the longest 24 hours of your life.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you say you were gonna be in town?”

“I didn’t know I was gonna be in town until last night!” Spencer could see right through you. He pursed his lips, not asking what was wrong yet, but still opting to check-in and make sure you’re okay.

“How are you feeling? Jet lagged?”

“Some profiler.” Your chuckle came out more annoyed than you would have liked it to.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, just getting some coffee--”

“No, like, are you okay?” He knew something was wrong, he wasn’t stupid, quite the opposite, by a long shot.

“I’m fine, Spence,” you lied through your teeth.

“Then who isn’t?” Panic and worry flashed across his face, “Is Jamie okay?

“Yes! He’s fine!” You couldn’t help but smile at the relief Spencer displayed that your son was safe and well, his hand coming up to rest over his heart. You hesitated for a second before giving in and telling him why you seemed so off, “My dad’s sick in the hospital.”

“Oh! Do they know what’s wrong with him?”

“Yep. Stage 4 lung cancer.” Your dad had been a smoker for most of your life. He tried to quit after Jamie was born, but the damage had already been done.

Spencer looked genuinely heartbroken as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, trying to think of what to say next “Do you know how much time he has?”

“Couple of weeks if we’re lucky.”

His eyebrow furrowed and his golden eyes softened to an impossible degree, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. This wasn’t sudden, we’ve been expecting it, but when the doctor says eight to twelve months, and you get through month eight, you start hoping it’s gonna be twelve.”

“Are you going back to the hospital now?”

“Yeah-”

“I’ll come with you!”

“Don’t you have work?”

“I don’t have to be there for another hour and,” he checks his watch, which was pulled over the sleeve of his dark gray cardigan, “fifty-six minutes.”

“The hospital’s out of the way and you hate being late.”

“I hate the thought of you going through this alone even more.” You tried to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling that gave you but ultimately failed. Those big brown eyes refused to stop studying your face, analyzing any signs that you needed him, which to be fair, you did.

“I’m not alone, I got Jamie and my mom.”

“Even more the reason for me to want to go with you.” He finally dropped the solemn frown and took up a bright smile instead. You swore his grin was contagious because, by the time you both got your coffees, you were smiling just as wide.

You drove back to the hospital in comfortable silence. Walking back to your father’s room felt easier with him by your side. Jamie looked up from his drawing as he saw you approach, beaming at you and his favorite federal agent.

“Doctor Spencer!” He came running up to him and hugging his legs.

“Hey, little man!” Spencer ruffled his hair and grinned down at the tiny human squeezing his arms around his thigh.

Your mother looked up from her book, “Doctor? Spencer? Wait. As in…”

“Yeah, mom.”

She stands and wraps him in a hug, “Oh my goodness, sweetheart, you got so big! You’re all grown up! Oh, and you’re cute, too!” She pinched his now pink cheek as his face twisted into a bashful smile, “Right, Y/N? Spencer got cute!”

Now you were blushing a little.

Why am I blushing? I don’t blush over Spencer!

You pursed your lips and looked him up and down. His striped tie was crooked under his cardigan. His long hair was a bit shaggy, as if he rolled out of bed, showered, and decided to go to work. You just laughed nervously as you met Spencer’s eyes. God, those eyes. “Yeah… I’d say so.”

“You definitely grew into your looks. Honey, this is Spencer. Remember the boy that used to tutor Y/N?”

“Oh, nice to finally meet you, son, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Your father shifted in his bed, managing to sit up slightly.

“You too, sir, I just wish it could have been under better circumstances.”

“Don’t give me any of that ‘sir’ crap, I got enough of that working on the Hill,” your father chuckled but his hearty laugh quickly devolved into a coughing fit. Your mother sat back down on the bed next to him and fed him some ice chips to keep him hydrated.

“So, Spencer, Y/N says you work for the FBI now?” She turns her attention away from her husband and forces a smile.

“Yes! I do.”

You took a seat and sipped your coffee, “He was on the team that helped save Jamie, remember?”

“What division are you in?” Your dad asked.

“The Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

“I got some buddies in the bureau, who’s your supervisor?”

“Aaron Hotchner?”

“Oh, I knew him in his prosecutor days. Helluva lawyer, he got some of my clients put away.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, they were guilty, weren’t they?”

Spencer’s phone rang in his pocket, “Speaking of which, I have to go. Got a case.”

“Go! Don’t be late!”

“Go catch the bad guy, Doctor Spencer!”

“Will do, Jamie.” He ruffled his hair before turning to your parents, “Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. L/N, it was great seeing you.”

“Bye, sweetheart, don’t be a stranger!”

“I’ll walk you out, return the favor.” You walked quietly with him.

“Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be home from this, but I’ll let you know when I get back, and if you’re still here just give me a call, okay?”

“Of course, Spence. Now go catch the bad guy!” You grinned as you parroted your son’s words. He returned your smile and pulled you into a hug. You could feel tears brimming in your eyes, but you fought it off best you could. Spencer could still sense your pain and hugged you as tight as possible. You were the one to pull away first, patting his back and forcing your pursed lips into a smile. His phone started to ring shortly after.

“Don’t let me keep you.”

(Spencer’s POV)

The case went on for too long. Two whole weeks passed before we were able to come home from Minneapolis. A man was strangling women with short black hair between the ages 30-40 because they reminded him of his mother, it’s standard stuff, it should have been a pretty cut and dry case, but the guy was almost impossible to find, he was completely off the grid. It took Garcia days to just get us a name, let alone contact information. He killed two other women while we were there. One of them was a mother, she had three kids all under the age of 10. Cases like these were always tough, but Gideon had seen enough to talk us all through it. I still wasn’t used to him being gone.

I couldn’t get any sleep on the jet. The nightmares have been coming back with a vengeance since Gideon left. He was like a father to me, my protector, my mentor, and now I have no one.

That’s hyperbolic; I do have the team, and they miss him too, but I’m pretty much alone out on the field. I know I can go to them, but it doesn’t feel right. I don’t like to rely on others because when they leave, I’m by myself.

Which is exactly why I am the only one awake on the jet home.

I suppose I wasn’t totally alone, I could call Y/N, but I wouldn’t wanna bother her if she was with her family. She only has so much time left with her dad. I took my phone out of my pocket anyway and saw a missed call from her last night, I hadn’t seen it before because of the case. If she wanted to talk she probably needed to, right?

I mulled it over in my head, and before I could even come to a decision, my fingers worked on autopilot, dialing the same number I had memorized years ago, and hit call.

Las Vegas, 1994

I picked up the book from the top of the pile she set down on the counter, “You’re reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

“Yeah, for class.”

“If you need any help with that, my mother was a classics professor, I’ve read most of Shakespeare’s works.”

“Really? That’s cool. I’ve read the basics in other classes, Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, Macbeth, all that, but this one is definitely my favorite so far.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I don’t know why, but the idea of falling in love with the wrong person just sorta… I dunno… resonates, I guess.”

“Yeah, same here.”

She snorted, “You’re like 12, how would you know about that?”

I bit my lip before explaining, “Reminds me of my parents. They loved each other at one point, obviously, but not enough to stop my dad from leaving us.”

She cringed to herself as if she realized some horrible mistake, “Jeez, I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

“How long ago did he leave?”

“Two years ago.”

“So it’s just been you and your mom?”

“Yeah.”

She stared at the pencil as she twisted it in between her fingers. Her eyes refused to meet mine. “My dad has worked in D.C. pretty much my whole life, and a lot of the time it was just my mom and me. He was always home for Christmas and birthdays, he came to all my recitals as a kid, but he was gone the rest of the year. I see him maybe… fifteen days out of the year?”

She finally looked up, if only for a second. Seeing her eyes, at last, I took note of the sadness behind them, “Which is fine, it’s better than nothing, but I don’t really have a dad the other 350 days of the year, you know? I could call him, but I don’t, it’s always ‘Sorry sweetheart, I’m a bit busy right now.’”

“Yeah, my dad was always too busy too.”

“I know our situations are still really different, and you probably already know this after two years, but it does get easier.”

Present Day

(Reader POV)

You click the button to answer the call, “Spencer?”

“Hey! We’re landing soon, you still in D.C.?” His voice is scratchy like he had just woken up, or like he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a couple of hours.

“Y-yeah! I’m still staying with my mom.”

“How’s your dad?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to, your silence answered his question well enough.

“Oh, shit…” Spencer groaned, “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be, you didn’t know.”

“How long ago?”

“Last week, the funeral was yesterday.” You could hear him grimace over the phone.

“Y/N I am… so sorry I couldn’t be there for you—”

“Don’t be! You had to work, it’s okay, Spencer.”

“I should have called sooner.”

You almost laughed at his tone, “Spencer, you were catching a serial killer, it’s not your responsibility to make sure I’m okay.”

“I know, but—”

“But nothing. I’m fine.”

“How’s Jamie, god, how’s your mother?”

“She’s holding up. I’m helping her out for a while, I don’t want her to be in this house alone.” You decided to leave out the part about you putting a downpayment on an apartment a couple of blocks away from your mother’s house for now.

“How’s Jamie doing?” He asked with perfect timing as Jamie flopped onto the couch behind you.

“Wanna talk to him? He’s right here.”

“Can I? Please?”

“Jamie, baby, wanna talk to Doctor Spencer?” He didn’t even say yes before he leaped up from his seat and grabbed the phone from your hand.

“Hi, Doc!”

“Hey, little man! How’s it going? How are you?” You could still hear his excited voice even though it was nowhere near your ear anymore. It brought a smile to your face as you saw Jamie light up at the sound of your friend on the other side of the call.

“I’m okay. Did you catch the bad guy?”

“Yes, Jamie, we got him. How’s your mom?”

“She’s saying she’s fine, but she’s still really sad.”

“Well, can you put her back on with me?” Jamie hands the phone back to you and runs off to return to his coloring book and crayons.

You sighed before putting the phone back to your ear, “Don’t worry about me, Spence—”

“Come to the BAU.”

He said the words so fast you almost needed him to repeat it, “What?”

“I mean it, I’ll call you when we land, come visit. Bring Jamie and your mom.”

“Won’t you have a ton of work to do when you land?”

“I couldn’t sleep, I did all my paperwork on the jet.”

“Spencer—”

“Please. I need to see you guys.” He was practically begging. It tugged at your heart in a familiar way, but there was a pit in your stomach that you couldn’t place.

“What happened on the case?”

He sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Just come in like, an hour.”

You tried to lighten the mood just a little bit, “My mom’s been obsessively baking, want us to bring you your favorite?”

“Did she make her famous oatmeal cookies?” You could almost see his face and the way his brown eyes lit up, even while he was on a plane hours away.

The image brought a soft smile to your face and sparked a tiny bit of light in your heart, “Yep!”

“Y/N L/N, if you bring me some, I will be forever indebted to you.”

“You owe me nothing, Doctor Reid.”

Security waved you through to the elevator, Spencer had cleared you for entry already. One guard hit the button for the sixth floor and sent you up, one hand holding Jamie’s and the other holding a Tupperware of your mom’s cookies. When the doors opened, you saw the entrance to the bullpen, desks filled with paperwork, and busy agents trying to get it all done. As the three of you crept through the hall to the glass doors, your eyes locked onto Spencer, who was sprawled out in his office chair with a thick book, legs propped up on his desk, and glasses balanced on the ridge of his nose.

“Hi! Who are you here to see?” A chipper blonde with purple cat eyeglasses and curly ponytails waved at you from down the hall.

“Spencer Reid?”

“Oh! He mentioned he’d have visitors, you must be Y/N! I’m Penelope.”

“That’s a pretty name!” Jamie beamed up to the woman, who clutched a hand over her heart and returned his smile.

“Oh! Thank you, sweetheart! What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Jamie!”

“Oh you are just precious, he is precious, Y/N, good kid.”

You laughed at the pair’s enthusiasm, “Thank you, can we just go straight in?”

“Yep! Go ahead!”

You walked up to his desk and placed the cookies next to his computer, pulling his attention away from his book. He turned to look up at you, closing the book and throwing it where his feet rested before he jumped up to wrap his arms around you. Jamie hugged his leg and your mother pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, how are you guys doing?”

“Spencer, we’re fine.”

He didn’t say anything, just examined your face for any sign of a lie. The frustration on his face said he didn’t find one.

“Stop profiling me, I’m okay.”

“Mommy, can I have a cookie now?” Jamie eyed the container like a hawk; he shared Spencer’s love of oatmeal cookies, especially from your mom.

“Right! You brought your cookies, thank you so much, Mrs. L/N.”

“You’re not a kid anymore, honey, you can call me by my first name.”

“No, I absolutely cannot,” he laughed.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and saw the woman who hugged you while you cried when you thought your son was gone: JJ.

“Hi! Good to see you again!” You brought her in for a hug while Spencer continued to catch up with Jamie and your mom.

“You too! Jamie got so big!”

“Yeah, he’s starting 3rd grade soon!” You reached around to ruffle Jamie’s hair.

“When does he start?”

“A few weeks! We gotta go back to school shopping!”

“Ooh, that’s exciting! So you’re heading home soon?”

“Um…” You glanced at Spencer and your mom, who was pestering him about whether or not he had a girlfriend, “Actually, I just thought it would be best for us to stay close to my mom. Jamie likes it here, so we’re actually going to be moving here before school starts.”

“A new school! Are you excited, Jamie?”

“Yeah!”

Spencer, still a blushing mess thanks to your mother’s nosiness, sputtered out “Uh… Excited for what?”

“To move to D.C.!” You raised your hands in a little “Surprise!” motion.

“W-what?” He couldn’t stop himself from looking delighted even if he tried.

“We’re moving here to stay close to my mom.”

“She’s been such a good help,” she gestured to the cookies, half gone over the course of the conversation, “I’m not really ready to give her up just yet.”

“Spence, you should show her around!” JJ’s face had an unreadable look, but I guess that’s what profilers are for “Take her sightseeing. Jamie, have you been to the Washington Monument yet?”

“Nope! Doctor Spencer, can you take us?”

“Sure, little man, you want your mom and grandma to come with?”

“Yes!”

Spencer grinned at him, ruffling his curls before smiling at you. His eyes were scrunched into thin lines from his cheeks, but there was still something behind them. Something you couldn’t quite read. His smile softened slightly and you finally got a clear view of his hazel eyes. His lips parted like he was about to say something, but Jamie cut him off again.

“Ooh! Ooh! Can we go to the Smithsonian?”

“Oh, honey, you’re gonna wish you didn’t say that,” JJ joked.

“The kid knows everything, you’ll be there for hours,” a deep voice said behind you.

“Morgan!” You smiled and stretched your arms out to hug him.

“Good to see you again, Y/N.”

When you turned back to Spencer, his warm grin was gone, replaced by a glare directed at Morgan. Had something happened with them? Last you heard they were best friends. Maybe that’s what happened on the case? Maybe that’s why he was so upset on the phone? Whatever it was had to be bad because he barely spoke for the rest of the visit.

A few weeks later, after you were all moved into your new apartment and Jamie was settled into his new school, you called Spencer. He owed you a trip to the Washington Monument. On your little day trip, there was no such thing as silence. Even in the quiet museum, Spencer’s voice filled the air, spewing facts about the monument, the memorial, the exhibits, and everything in between. Jamie loved to learn, so he hung onto every word that he heard.

“Plans for the monument’s development actually started in 1783, before Washington was even elected president. D.C. wasn’t even the capital of the country yet. Washington was actually against the monument because he didn’t want to use public funds for it, but after his death, Congress wanted to build him a mausoleum--”

You didn’t mind the rants. You still loved to listen to him ramble. Even if you didn’t understand what he was talking about sometimes, the sound of his voice was just soothing, especially after the stress of moving across the country.

Jamie got tired after walking around all day after the tour of the National Museum of Natural History and the Washington Monument, so your mom offered to take him home. You planted a kiss to his forehead and ruffled his hair, hugging your mom goodbye as Spencer high fived him and waved as they went off in the direction of home.

“You know, you didn’t have to stay with me. If you wanna go home too, you can.”

“No. I wanna stay with you.”

A small smile crept across his lips, blush rising to his cheeks. He bit his lips and looked down at his feet as he started walking off to the next stop on his little tour.

“Where to now, Doc?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Come on, tell me, tell me!”

“No, ‘cuz then it’s not a surprise!”

“I’m aware of the definition of surprise, you don’t need to have an eidetic memory to know that.” You would just have to rely on your less refined profiling skills to figure out where you were going. You were on foot, so it couldn’t be too far.

“Why aren’t we taking a cab?”

“Because I wanna walk with you.”

Just hail a cab, it takes way less time than--

Oh.

You walked side by side for the remainder of the distance. He did most of the talking, telling you stories about the team. You took notice of the softness in his voice when he talked about Morgan. He wasn’t bitter anymore.

“--And then Garcia answered the phone.”

“Oh, god, what’d she say?”

“‘Talk dirty to me.’”

“No!”

“Yep!”

“She said that to your boss.”

“Morgan was mortified, you should have seen his face.”

You looked at him while he grinned at the memory. It was the most at peace you’d seen him in… well, a while.

“So… you guys are cool now?”

The peace was replaced with confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your pace faltered, but you kept walking, “Didn’t you guys…? Weren’t you fighting?”

“No? Why would you think that?”

You pursed your lips and furrowed your brows, “No reason.”

Why else would he have been mad at Morgan when I went to visit? You thought, There’s no other reason! Unless…

Oh--

“We’re here!” Spencer stopped in his tracks, looking up at a large white structure with tall windows and stone carvings decorating the walls. You turned and saw the sign out front that read: “Folger Shakespeare Library.”

“Spencer…” You gaped at the sign, a small, awe-filled smile tugging at your lips.

“I remembered how much you loved Shakespeare in school, I thought you’d get a kick out of this.”

“Spencer, this is… This is wonderful!”

“Good surprise?”

“Great surprise!”

You grabbed him by the arm and tugged him up the front steps as he digs through his pockets for his wallet. Once inside, he bought two tickets for the next show: Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your favorite. It didn’t start for another half hour, so he led you to the reading room.

The room was beautiful, to put it lightly. Three ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The furniture and accents were all done in a dark wood, shelves packed tightly with books. The setting sun shone through the breathtaking stained glass windows. An unlit fireplace rested against the wall. Spencer led you up to the second level, a balcony wrapping around the border of the room.

“Thank you for today,” you beamed, “I haven’t seen Jamie that happy since…”

“I know the feeling. I haven’t felt this okay since…” His gaze dropped to his feet, trying to swallow the words that came out too soon.

“Since what?”

“Since uh...” He glanced back up to your face, “Since Gideon left the team.”

Spencer never told you he left. Agent Gideon kept tabs on Jamie after his rescue. For the last three years, he got a card in the mail on Christmas and his birthday. He always checked in and asked how he was doing. When you went to visit Spencer at the BAU a few weeks ago, you wanted to say hi to Agent Gideon and thank him for his consideration, but you hadn’t seen him. You thought he was just taking a personal day, he worked too hard anyways from what Spencer told you.

“Spence, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

The words were like a spark that shocked your heart awake from a lovely sleep, and now it was upset to be so rudely awoken, “Of course I care! What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t wanna know the reason you’ve been so… off.”

“What do you mean ‘off?’”

“You don’t have to be a profiler to see you haven’t been yourself in… when did Gideon leave?”

He played with a loose thread on the sleeve of his sweater and looked back down at his feet, the toe of his converse nudging at the emerald green carpet, “Couple of months ago.”

“You could have told me.”

“You’ve had your own stuff going on. It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t have to convince yourself that you aren’t having a hard time just because I am. You don’t always have to be the hero.”

“Neither do you, you know.”

“I really am fine.”

“Y/N, he was your dad, you’re allowed to be upset.”

“I am, okay?” You snapped, “I miss him like hell! He was always just one phone call away and now…” One hand carded through your hair as you inhaled deeply, placing your other hand on the banister beside you to steady yourself.

“I’m not going to pretend that our situations are the same because they aren’t, but I’ll tell you the same thing you told me when we were kids.” He placed his hand close to yours on the banister, your fingers almost touching. Almost. “It gets easier, not seeing him every day. But just ‘cuz he wasn’t around doesn’t mean you can’t feel bad.”

You force a smile, “Thanks, Spence.”

“Of course.” He wrapped his arms around you and held you tight. The hug wasn’t particularly emotional. Neither one of you felt like you were about to cry, it just felt nice to be in each other's embrace.

“Show’s starting soon.” He muttered into your ear before pulling away, walking off towards the theater with you following close behind.

Taglist~~~

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