#look at me trying to look like I have some organisation

[kurohe]

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. This may sound a little dumb, but you are revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step !

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

(this used to also say airports, but i've been told it's way too high risk as it's considered a federal crime. Thanks for letting me know)

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. If you can't, buy a gun. (Remember Alabama has a 99% acceptation rate, you can get one in 10 minutes.) I hate firearms, but the enemy will have them too. Arm yourself.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[love-quinn]

— THREAD OF GOLD

summary — a thread of moments that defined your relationship with mike.

warnings — uh i don’t think there are? me not caring about the irl timeline of events and making up my own shit cause i can. also i switch between past and present tense like nobody's business so we're all gonna pretend we don't notice that.

pairing — mike faist x fem!famous! reader

pronouns — she/her

word count — 7.8k + social media posts

note — hi sorry i’ve been MIA i’ve been working on this for 5ever truly it came to me one day and i couldn’t write anything else. this isn’t edited because it’s nearly 8k and i’m not about that life.

important note that i tried to make it so yn’s skin tone changed in at least some of the pictures to make it more inclusive but pinterest fought me SO hard i spent maybe four hours just finding images. this is NOT meant to be a depiction of what yn looks like, just a general vibe of the images used in the thread <33

ONE. july 2017

California doesn’t have seasons the same way your hometown did. California has two seasons: wet and dry. You grew up in the suburbs of New York, in Westchester county, about an hour north of Manhattan. You went to the city a few times growing up, but you spent almost all of your upbringing on a quiet street with a cul-de-sac and a park a street away. 

You’d lived in California for a while, you were based there for most of the year, but you’d still say you lived in New York. You were lucky enough to be at a break between projects where you got to spend more than a few weeks at a time at your New York apartment. 

You’d been back maybe two weeks and knowing that you didn’t have to go back to the west coast for at least six months felt like a major weight off your chest. Finally retreating back to your cocoon, the air around you still felt thick, but this one felt more like a wall keeping things out rather than one keeping you in.

So, naturally, the first thing you did with your newfound seclusion was to venture outside with a man you’d been trying to go out with for a few months now. 

You and Mike had known each other for a little over half a year now. You’d met at a new year’s party hosted by a mutual friend of a mutual friend and you had known immediately that he was someone that you wanted to know desperately. You’d been elated that he seemed to reciprocate. Unfortunately, with your work schedules, this was the first time since January that you’d had enough time in the same state. 

He was unlike anyone that you had ever met, and now that you were in the same place, you were revelling in his presence. He’d taken you to a park near his apartment, he’d let you hold his hand on the subway and you were pretty sure that he was going to kiss you later. 

It had been a while since you’d been outside - like, properly outside, and Mike was enjoying how happy you seemed to be. While you’d been trying to organise yourselves, Mike had spent hours on the phone with you, trying to avoid sounding so disgustingly happy that he scared you off. This may have been your first real date, but Mike already knew that you were it for him. 

You were chattering about a story from your childhood, and he was really trying to listen to you, but he was focused more on the way the golden hour was hitting your face, and the way you would subconsciously squeeze his hand when you made yourself laugh.

“Yeah, since then my mom makes sure that she puts the cat treats away whenever he comes over,” you giggled. Mike let the sound fill him from the inside. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by you dropping his hand. “I’ve needed this,” you let your head fall back to bask in the dying sunlight. “Air that I’m not sharing with Buzzfeed HQ, grass that is made in real dirt.”

“I see,” Mike nodded seriously. “You’re not even here for me, you were just waiting for a guy to take you to see some trees.”

You reach back and grip his hand, eyes sparkling directly into his. “Thank you,” you say sincerely, “for knowing your place.”

He laughed and let you drop your hand again, watching fondly as you speed off in front of him, stopping maybe fifteen feet in front of him. “Will you come with me to the emergency room when I fall out of the tree I’m about to climb.”

Mike was sure you could see exactly how much he wanted to kiss you from the look on his face. He laughed, nodding. “That’s actually the next stop I had planned anyway.”

TWO. october 2017

You couldn’t remember dolling yourself up for a date in so long, but it was clearly paying off the way that Mike hadn’t let you out of arm’s reach the entire cab ride. You hand two hands on his arm and he’d been talking in your ear the whole ride. 

You were taking him to lunch at one of your favourite places in the city, quiet, not visible from the street, with a wonderful goat cheese salad. He’d been ecstatic that you were clearly showing him parts of your life that you kept close to your chest. 

The two of you had only been together properly for about three months now, but you’d known each other for nearly a year. Mike hadn’t really dated anyone in the industry before, definitely not publicly. 

You’d mentioned to him a few of your past dating experiences before, and you had been steadfast on the fact that if you were going to have a relationship that it would be as completely private as possible. 

Mike didn’t think he’d ever hesitated less to reply - he was all in, same page. It felt simultaneously too fast and too slow. You’d been dating for three months, sure, but he’d known you since January, and it had felt like that first seven months had been confirmation that he liked you again and again and again.

Mike had been calling you his girlfriend to everyone, his friends, his family, some of his closer co-stars. But as he sat across from you at the restaurant, he realised he hadn’t actually asked. 

He valued communication, he thought he was pretty good at it. But he’d settled into such a comfortable settlement with you that it had slipped his mind entirely. You didn’t mind. You were on the same page as him. 

You referred to him to those closest to you as your boyfriend. You weren’t sitting around, desperately waiting for him to ask you to be his girlfriend, if that’s how you felt you would have asked him before you got to this point. 

The two of you were doing what you usually did, you ordered a few different things with the intention of sharing, and Mike, as usual, was way more interested in what you had picked than he had. 

You were giggling across the table at him, watching the way the breeze from the window by your table kept blowing his hair into his mouth. .”Here,” you took the scrunchie from your own hair and stood up, coming to a rest behind him. 

He tilted his head back - good for him, he could see your face; bad for you, you couldn’t grab all his hair - while you worked and after a second you’d tied his hair up out of his face. 

You moved to return to your seat, but he half-lifted himself from his chair to make sure he got to kiss you before you left. “Thank you, honey,” he said softly. Your thumb rubbed his cheek with a soft touch.

“‘s okay,” you mused, looking at him. He loved the look you got in your eyes when you were fully concentrated on his face, he wondered if he got the same look when he saw yours. “You look cute.”

“Says you,” he mumbled, looking down at your outfit. He could tell you’d put in extra effort, he wanted you to know it hadn’t been for nothing. “Y’look so pretty today, can’t believe I get to be the one here with you.”

You giggled, preening under his thoughtful gaze. You could feel your cheeks growing warmer, but you made yourself not look away from him. “Yeah?”

He turned his head and kissed the palm of your hand. “Can’t believe I haven’t asked you to be my girlfriend properly,” he sounded so positively disappointed that you couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t laugh at me, it’s embarrassing.”

You giggled a little bit harder. “Oh, baby,” you let your thumb brush his lips, soaking in the way he kissed the pad of the finger. “Can’t be embarrassed, I didn’t even realise.” Mike hummed in question. “Don’t know,” you shuffle in place. “in my head you’ve been my boyfriend for like six months.”

“Thank god,” Mike laughed, letting his head drop. “Quick, sit down, I need to ask you to be exclusive so I can tell people that I did.”

You pause for a second before nabbing the fork on his plate, scooping up a piece of chicken before sitting back in your chair. “Go on, then, boyfriend.” You take a bite. “Get it over with, I’m hungry.”

THREE. december 2017

You were curled into Mike’s side when you got the text. You didn’t usually look at your phone when the two of you were together, but he was watching a documentary about something that didn’t interest you, while you were reading a book on your phone. 

He had his hand sitting on the back of your neck, knuckles brushing a line from the nape to the top of your shoulder. It was one of your costars from an earlier project, sending you a link.

“LMAOO not people”

It was a People magazine article, one that instantly had you rolling your eyes. Mike sensed your shift in mood and laid his palm flat on the curve of your shoulder. “Okay?”

“People says we’ve been together since…” you scrolled through the article.” “October last year,” you snickered. 

“Cant believe you didn’t tell me.” Mike let his head fall back against the sofa. “I wish,” he said as an afterthought. 

“You didn’t even know me back then,” you pointed out.

Mike leaned forward and kissed your temple. “Still,” he said, concretely no but with supreme amounts of gentleness. “I’m sure I would’ve wanted you with great desperation.”

You and Mike had gone through conversations before about revealing your relationship to the public. You had little to no intentions of doing that, especially not so soon. But you’d wanted to manage expectations.

You’d become famous young, not as young as some, you’d only been twenty when you landed your first major role. You’d done principal photography during your summer break in college, working towards getting your degree, and by the time you graduated you had two feature films and one golden globe nomination under your belt.

You’d had a college boyfriend at the time, it had ended naturally, not without pain, but not as a result of your blossoming career. The magazines had eaten it up, though, with all sorts of speculations. 

You didn’t want that again. You didn’t owe them anything. And you were so grateful that Mike seemed to share the sentiment. You were so grateful to your fans but you knew at the end of the day that they didn’t own you, which is why you were not above lying to them to keep them out of your life. 

Especially when the comments of the post were already filled with dozens of suggestions to who it could be. Not when your friends, your coworkers, or random strangers who hadn’t done anything other than be someone people thought you might like if you met them, we’re getting their personal lives dug into in order to confirm a suspicion that a stranger had about you.

Not when you were curled up in the arms of one of the kindest most charming men you’d ever known, one that you might even want to spend the rest of your life with. He definitely didn’t deserve this, and neither did you.

So, you went into your camera roll and found a selfie you’d sent to one of your friends a few days earlier. You typed up a short sentence and then hit post on your Instagram story without thinking too hard about it. 

When you showed it to Mike he smiled endearingly. “Aw man,” he mumbled, pressing his face to the crook of your neck. “Can’t believe you didn’t tell me we broke up.”

FOUR. march 2018

Days on set were long, they were often exhausting, and they were where you’d thrive.

You’d finally wrapped after thirteen hours, and the first thing you did when you got your phone out of your trailer was to text Mike. 

He was in New York still, but you guys had been speaking as often as you could. With him three hours in front of you, it often ended up in the two of you just missing each other. Mike had texted you four hours earlier while you’d been filming.

You look pretty here. 

It’s a Vanity Fair video that you filmed about a month ago with one of your costars. It was a movie about love, being in love, loving people, loving places, loving time. Your character was the main romantic love interest to the main character, and she was one of your favourite characters that you’d ever played. A young woman who finds love in her career, love in her family, and eventually begins giving it to the main character. You and your costar had become very close, and you were talking candidly to them in the video about your experience with love. 

Mike had sent you a screenshot of the video, where you’re smiling across to your costar. It had been a simple question they’d asked; have you ever been in love. 

Now, you couldn’t say blatantly, “yes, I have a boyfriend.” And you couldn’t say that for two reasons. Number one, you and Mike had been so careful to the point where you didn’t even think your fans knew that the two of you were aware of each other, let alone that his tongue had been in your mouth. 

And number two was that you hadn’t actually told Mike that you loved him. You did, god you did. You probably would have told him months ago if things were more normal. If you both worked 9 to 5s, you lived primarily in the same city, you could go on dates and pull him over to the side of the sidewalk, interrupting him mid-sentence to kiss him.

Unfortunately, you’d spent months apart, and while you spoke multiple times a day, at least through texts, it felt like not the right time.

You try to brush off your smile as you reply to him. Stop ittt you’re giving me an ego <333. In that exact moment, you know what you’d been spewing some media trained answer that avoided mentioning your partner but still felt authentic. “I’m just really glad that I spent most of my early twenties trying to find myself before trying to find someone else, I guess.”

Mike took a moment to reply. Guess you didn’t find me :( 

You giggle as you finish changing back into your own clothes out of the costume you’d just been wearing, ready to head home now that your last scene of the day had concluded. Nope! You sought me out 100% I actually have no idea who you are. 

That time the reply was instant. This is awkward then. What else is instant is the knock on your trailer door, the way you wrap your arms around him once you’d thrown open the door, and the knowledge that you’re going to tell him that you love him.

FIVE. september 2018

Mike knows that most people are more nervous to meet their girlfriend’s parents than he currently is, and ironically that actually does make him nervous. 

It wasn’t really his first time meeting them, he’d spoken to them on the phone before and he’d even texted your mom a couple of times when you’d asked him to. You’ve been his girlfriend officially for almost an entire year, but the two of you both agreed that you felt you’d been together since July of the year earlier. That was over one whole year together. Even if your parents didn’t like him - which, based off the amount that not only he’d spoken to them, but you’d talked about him, seemed almost impossible - it wasn’t going to be the be all or end all. 

But he wanted your mom’s birthday brunch (of which she was very serious about) to go well as his first official family event that he attended as your boyfriend. 

The two of you were getting ready at his place, as you do most days that you’re in New York. You spend maybe two or three months in your home state and as you and Mike are together for longer and longer, you spend as much time together as you can. Mike had not only let you spend every second you could at his apartment, he’d actively encouraged it. 

You’re wearing an outfit he’s seen on you a hundred times, standing in front of his bathroom mirror as he ducks in to grab his phone. He stops behind you, watching you apply mascara, and places both his hands on your shoulders. 

“Love you,” you say absent-mindedly, trying to focus on not stabbing yourself in the eye.

He squeezes your shoulders and kisses the back of your neck, the closest part he can reach. “Love you more. I’m ready to head out whenever you are.”

You lean back so your face is no longer just inches from the mirror. “Reservation’s at 11 so we should probably leave soon,” you say. “Give me five or so minutes.”

You let him hold your hand the entire way to the restaurant, knowing exactly how nervous he is. He’s a grown man, he knows your mom already loves him, but he appreciates that you don’t say any of this as he follows you into the restaurant.

Your mom is already there, with two seats beside her that Mike knows are reserved for you, and she leaps out of her chair at the sight of you. You greet her with a hug and a happy birthday, having let Mike hold the gift so he felt less like he was coming empty handed (you’d bought it together).  The second you’re out of her path, she’s coming for him. “Oh, it’s so lovely to finally get to meet you!” She’s gushing over him and he’s trying not to look embarrassed in front of you. 

He fits right in with your family, sitting on your left hand side while you sit pride of place beside your mom. He gets caught up in one of your mom’s friend’s conversations (“Oh I just adore Broadway, what’s it like?”) and that’s when your mom takes the opportunity to lean over and whisper over her bellini to you. 

You lean in so you can hear her without much strain. 

“I’ve never seen you look this happy.”

You beam back at her. 

SIX. november 2019

You’re thinking of selling your California apartment. 

You know it’s probably a bad idea, and that because you spend so much time in LA, it’s good to have a place to call home. But you also feel like it’s keeping you tied to the west coast. That you’re more likely to spend more time in California if you have a place there, and that’s not something that you want anymore. 

You’ve been in California for the last nine months, it’s been longer than that since you’ve seen your family, your friends, or your boyfriend. You missed your two-year anniversary because you spent the day on set and Mike wasn’t able to fly out due to his work schedule. 

You have your co-stars, people you spent months with every day that you genuinely enjoy being around - one of them you even worked with on a past project, you spend a lot of your free time with them between takes - but it’s not the same.

And now you’re done. You have over seven months until press from this movie begins and then you have to start working again. Normally, you’d stay in California while you looked for another project to latch onto, but that wasn’t what you wanted to do. 

You missed Mike, plain and simple. He was in New Jersey filming a movie, but that’s about as far away as he’d be if he was in New York. You knew of plenty of actors who didn’t live in LA and still made it work just fine, and as far as home states went, you could definitely have done worse than New York. 

“I think if it’s something you want to do you should look into it.” You’d called your boyfriend to have him either talk you into or out of it, but frustratingly all he’s done is point out that it’s your apartment and that he’d be kind of an asshole if he pushed his opinion on your assets onto you. 

“I want your opinion,” you let out a dramatic sob, sitting at your kitchen counter. Your phone is on speaker while you’re on your laptop, answering emails. 

Mike laughs, it’s crackly through the phone but you know the ins and outs, the layers of breath. “My opinion is that you should do what feels right for you, and I’ll back you up no matter what.”

“You’re annoying,” you grumble, changing tabs to instead look through your camera roll. You had a few days left to post one of your monthly photo dumps, something you much preferred to posting consistently. There was one photo that your camera roll had put in the forefront, of you at dinner with Mike and two of your mutual friends to celebrate his 27th birthday. You’d taken the photo almost eleven months earlier, and hadn’t done anything with it, but you did think you looked cute.

“I love you,” he offers instead.

You hum in response, bringing up the photo. “Is it weird if I post a photo from your birthday dinner? You’re not in it, obviously.”

He laughs at your bluntness. “Right, because why would I be in it? It’s only my birthday.”

That brings you out of it. “No, wait,” you giggle.  “Just cause I don’t want them to know that it’s your dinner, idiot.”

Mike groans. “I was gonna ask when you next are coming home but I actually don’t care anymore about it.”

“I’ll forgive you if you tell me what to do about my apartment.”

“Forgive me?”

“Fine, I love you or whatever.”

Mike laughs again, and you don’t even notice the crackles. “Or whatever.”

SEVEN. november 2019

You don’t think you’ve laughed this hard in a while. 

“I’m sorry,” she moans, leaning on your shoulder. 

You’re with one of your closest friends, sitting on your sofa, almost crying with laughter. You’d been staying with her while the sale of your California place was going down, with every intention of moving back home to New York after it was done. She’d commented on your yearly photo set, talking about a photo of you and your mom, and you’d realised exactly where people’s minds would go.

“No,” you giggle, “I was the one who decided to be messy and post the photo.” You’d posted a photo that had been taken of you and Mike when he’d come to visit you on set the year earlier. Everyone knew it was old, you’d thought it was funny, and sure you had probably revealed a little bit too much about your relationship, but Mike had thought it was funny too, so that was enough for you.

Your favourite part, though, was that not a single person had commented, tweeted, messaged you asking who he was, if he was your boyfriend, or what was happening. You hadn’t seen a single person give a fuck. 

The two of you had been sneaking around like teenagers and literally no one had cared, so Mike had allowed you to be a little messy on your Instagram feed. 

“If I’m the reason you and Mike get doxxed you can feel free to post any blackmail you have of me,” she promises. You can tell she feels awful about the possibility of having just exposed your multi-year long relationship, but if you’re honest you think it’s kind of funny. 

You wave her off. “No, I guarantee no one even cares. Worst case scenario someone asks, you just tell them you were talking about the photo of me and my mom, it’s so fine.”

The reason that you’d posted that photo now was because when it had been taken, things were definitely too new to be making hints towards it, and you would have posted a more recent picture but that was literally the only one of the two of you you could fine. 

And the best part was while all this was happening, so blatantly obvious to everyone who knew, you still got so many comments, dms - fucking interview questions - asking if you had a boyfriend, and every single time you’d either dodge it or outright say no. 

Your phone vibrated; a text from Mike. 

Rachel told me she hasn’t seen a single tweet about it and if anyone would have seen it it would be her.

yeah i run a stan account of you and haven’t put my phone down in 8 years - rachel :))))) She sends an entire row of kisses with hers. 

You’d met his costar a few times, only over the phone, and he sent you pictures of the two of them together on set often. You heart her message, giving his a thumbs up and knowing that she’d appreciate that. 

“See, it’s fine.” You show your friend. 

She breathes an audible sigh of relief. “In my defence you did post the photo.”

EIGHT. june 2020

The plan had been in the works for six months before it got derailed. Your California apartment had officially been sold, and you were set to move in to Mike’s place until you settled back in. Once things had calmed down with work for the two of you, you were going to start looking for your own place together. 

You’d ended your lease in your New York place, you had all of your stuff - not that you carted much around with you anyway - most of the furniture you had came with the place, and you’d donated or sold most of it. You had been living off of display furniture and minimal decorating, knowing that wherever it was would sit vacant most of the time anyway. This was going to be it, where you finally started building a life, and you’d be doing it with Mike. 

And then the country had gone into lockdown and, after a very lengthy conversation, the two of you had decided to relocate back to Columbus, Ohio, where he had a place for when he went to visit family.

It had been a fast move, but you’d planned for every thing that you possibly could have. Your family was safe, in New York, and you knew that was the best place for them to be. Your dad had an autoimmune disorder, so you knew that even if you were living in the city you wouldn’t be able to visit them much anyway. After three years with Mike, spending most of your relationship states away, you couldn’t let him leave without coming with him. 

So, there the two of you were. In Mike’s house in Ohio, one that was entirely familiar to him and somehow, it felt that way to you as well. Like you knew him so well that anything he knew was something you instinctively understood. 

Despite how long you’ve known Mike, how long you’ve loved him, you feel a bit like you’re taking over his space. Like when he moves something to make room for one of your trinkets that you’re minimising him in his own home.

He doesn’t let you think that for long. Sometimes you’ll come into your shared bedroom and find him rearranging his bookshelf so your books fit too, moving his Grammy to a shelf where there’s enough room for it to sit beside your awards, changing the sheets to a set that you’d picked out. 

You’ve been a successful working actor for the last eight years now, for almost five of them you’ve forgotten what it’s like to go outside and not worry that you’re going to be spotted. 

Sure, when you go outside now, you’re masked and there’s less people outside to recognise you. But to the people you do run into, you’re not an actor to them, not a celebrity, not anything. You’re Mike’s girlfriend. 

You can understand how that’s frustrating, you are your own person, but after three years of being together but constantly apart, you’re okay with your neighbours knowing you simply as Mike’s girlfriend. 

Now that you’re always in the house your screentime goes way down, you don’t need to text him anymore. All of the things that had you stressed and anxious to leave the house for have changed. And of course the state of the world is by no means good, but if everything is going to be happening anyway, you’re glad that you’re able to be with him during it. 

NINE. october 2020

You had become a bit of a homebody in the 9 months that you’d been living in Ohio. You only ever left the house when Mike did, and you didn’t go with him every time. Mike can tell it’s starting to wear on you a little bit. 

So, in an effort to pick yourself up a bit more, you’ve started doing all the grocery shopping. You and Mike make a list together so as to not give you all the mental load with it, but you walk down the few blocks to the small general store.

It’s convenient, a nice place, with a pharmacy attached to one side and a bakery on the other. Sometimes you take Austin and the girl who works at the bakery puts a bowl down for him while you go in and get your medication.

Sometimes you drive, when you have the aching exhaustion that only comes with being sad for hours on end, or when it’s raining, but the fresh air and just the act of being outside was usually enough to make you feel better.

It was late, and the pharmacy was closing soon when you realise you’d forgotten to pick up your medication, so it’s a no brainer that you’ll zip down and grab it while Mike makes dinner. 

You’ve slowly started setting down roots here, the shop assistants know your name and your prescription, they know you and Mike have officially moved into the mostly vacant house a few streets away, and they know that you seem like you’re maybe not always doing the best, because they’re always extra kind to you when you need it.

You like the domesticity. Sitting on the kitchen counter while goes through the fridge, telling you what to write down. Walking his dog - Austin absolutely loves you, which Mike did tell you is normal for most people - or holding his hand with his spare one on the leash. 

You’ve been really tired lately, and despite the fact that it’s meant to be your time to be by yourself and get fresh air, you find yourself in the kitchen, arms around your boyfriend’s waist. “Please?” You ask. 

Mike’s stirring something cheesy on the stove. You can smell it behind the wall of his cologne, the smell of wood and cinnamon. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he laughs and you feel the vibrations where your cheek is pressed to his back. “It’ll be cold by the time we get back.”

Your voice is small, and he knows he has zero intention of actually saying no to you, but he’s wondering if you’ll change your mind given a little bit of coaxing. 

“We have a microwave.” He wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t so close to him. 

He loves you, and he’s also not blind. He can see you’re struggling. He likes to think he knows exactly when to give you space, and when you need him there. He puts the spoon down on the cutting board he has beside the stove and turns off the gas. “Okay,” he says comfortingly. 

You brighten, and he feels you stand up straighter. “You’ll come with me.”

Mike doesn’t even pretend to think about it this time. “Of course I will.”

TEN. february 2021

Press was finally happening for your project that you had filmed all the way back towards the end of 2019, and with that came your first ever zoom interview. It was a bit awkward, you’d never really liked doing press much face to face but now online it was worse. 

You and Mike had both found it a bit weird. He’d done a bit more of it in 2020 than you had, so you’d asked if he’d be in the room where possible to help ease your nerves. 

You were in your bedroom, set up at the designated Work Spot. You and Mike had made an agreement, no work was to be done outside of the Work Spot. It was the only thing that stopped it bleeding into your everyday life, especially now that you were working from home. 

Mike was out of frame so you could still see him, sitting in the corner reading a book. He’d glance up at you every single time you looked at him, like he could feel that you needed him. 

Things were going well, it wasn’t a standard interview with an interviewer, but rather you’d been given a list of questions that the group of you took turns asking the others and then answering yourself. 

There was a bit there where you knew you had a note written down about something important, but you’d written it on Mike’s phone. It was the only one near you at the time, and you were actively regretting it now.

You muted yourself on your computer and tried to subtly gesture for him. He notices you immediately and comes to stand right beside him. 

“Can I grab your phone really quick?” He hands it over.

“You okay?” He asks, wary of the camera he’s standing just outside of frame of. 

You unlock his phone and open up his notes app, trying to find what you’re doing. Mike didn’t have a phone case until you met him, but you’d cajoled him into a clear on“Did you…” you hum. “Did you move my note?”

You handed Mike back his phone and told him what he’s looking for and he scrolled for a second. “No?” He frowned. “Uh…” he bites his lip. “Oh wait, I cleared out a bunch of stuff hang on.”

You can hear everyone else, so you know no one has clocked your absence yet. “Found it,” he hands you back his phone and pulls up the one. “This one?”

“Love you,” you say in lieu of an answer. He gives you a look that makes a smile worm its way onto your face. 

Mike goes to sit back down as you skim through your note, ready to have your talking points ready. “Love you,” he calls back. 

When it’s eventually your turn to answer, you turn your microphone back on like nothing ever happened. And your costars, who all knew everything were was to know about exactly who you’d been talking to, all kept their mouths shut too. 

ELEVEN. august 2021

The material of your dress was scratching his skin, but Mike couldn’t seem to mind when you were so deliriously happy. In one hand you had a glass of champagne and in the other a beautiful bouquet of flowers that you’d snatched from the air after it had left the hands of your childhood best friend. 

People had been giving him knowing looks about it since then, upturned smirks and elbows to his ribcage. Mike laughed it off. The two of you were good, and he knew that you weren’t the type of girl to expect a proposal just because she caught the bouquet. 

Over the course of the night he had stood by, chatting idly with another group of plus ones. He’d met your best friend countless times, but there was no denying that he would not have been invited if he hadn’t been with you for the last four years. He was just happy that you seemed to be having a good time. 

Eventually, you staggered over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You weren’t drunk, didn’t need to be, you were simply so elated to not only be able to leave the house without feeling anxious but also to be able to celebrate your best friend getting married. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” He chuckled, your nose pressed to his adam’s apple. 

You hummed. “Yeah. Tired. Happy. Miss you,”

He ran his hand along the back of your dress, cringing at the material. “‘M right here.” 

The night was winding down, it was out in a big greenspace that they’d rented, the sun had well and truly set. You were basking in the glow of the massive outdoor lamps they’d set up, and they bathed you in a golden hue. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you said genuinely. “I’m really happy.”

You were swaying on the spot slightly to the faded jazz playing in the background, and he let his arms envelope you, pulling you impossibly close to him. “Of course, baby,” he’s beaming wide, his voice low and soft. You can hear how happy he is.

It’s your first time being back in New York since you left, your longest stretch away from your home state in your whole life. The two of you have started looking for work again now that things are starting to open up. Mike’s riding the high of his West Side Story performance, he’s been getting offers since it came out. He hasn’t taken any of them, though, instead focusing on smaller things that he likes more. The TV show he’d spent a while filming in Texas had been cancelled, which was a shame because you really enjoyed watching TikTok edits of him in that. 

Instead, he’d been waving off scripts his agents sent him. He’d been asked to do a screen test in a movie in the UK, but he didn’t seem to interested in it. The most interesting thing about it was that his screen test was apparently with Zendaya, so you’d encouraged him to go just to meet her. 

Things are picking up again. Your agent’s sending you offers and auditions and after two years of not being on set you’re itching to get back.

But, getting back meant going back. 

You’d settled in Columbus. You didn’t want to leave, but you and Mike both knew that you’d have to go back to New York. 

It was something that you’d been talking about for a while, getting another place in New York. You’re fortunate enough that it’s something you’re able to afford, and it seems like a good idea. It doesn’t need to be discussed tonight, though. 

Instead, you ask him quietly, “Are we ever gonna get married?”

Mike mused, “Do you want to?”

You’re playing with the longer strands of hair on the back of his neck. “I think I might. With you.”

“Yeah?” He asks. He feels so warm inside there’s glee practically pouring from him. 

“Not right now, though,” you admit. “I think I want more of a career before I’m willing to become known as someone’s wife.” Mike knows exactly what you mean, and that even though you eventually want to be his wife, that regardless of what you’ve accomplished, from that moment on there will be people who know you exclusively as ‘Mike Faist’s wife.’ At this point in time, you’re not even known as his girlfriend, a fact that the two of you enjoy. 

“You just let me know,” he hums. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

You’ve been together almost four and a half years now and still no one knows. You don’t really need people to. 

You kiss his jaw and reach down to take off your heels, complaining about your feet. He takes them from you and watches as you make your way back towards your friends. He knows he’s going to ask you one day, and he knows you’ll say yes. The two of you know just how much you love each other. You don’t need anyone else to just yet. 

TWELVE. november 2021

So, a new arrangement has been reached. You n’t living in New York permanently but you have a lease on a place together. You’re back to doing live press, with the movie finally being shown in theatres. To be completely honest, you’re pretty much done with press on this movie. When you were cast in it three years ago, you didn’t expect that you would still be doing it. 

Mike is sympathetic but amused. They haven’t organised the screen test for that one movie yet but that’s because the director was working on another project and the one Mike had been scouted for had been pushed back for a short period. 

Sometimes companies will send you a car to come to your interview, but you take the subway home. Mike comes with you most times, more than happy to come tag along and sit in a room with your stuff and bring you your water bottle between shoots. 

“Thank you, baby,” you tell him genuinely the fourth time he does it. He kisses your forehead. “You didn’t have to come with me, I appreciate you.”

He hums as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. “I need to earn my keep somehow, I’ve been your stay at home boyfriend for like two years.”

You giggle around the straw of your water bottle, softening at the way he reaches to take it from you. “And your services have been appreciated and they will be missed when you inevitably book again.”

It’s not something that you expect to be so comforted by. The knowledge that wherever you’re living - Ohio, New York, California, wherever, even if you’re in different states - that you just love being around him. No matter how much time he spends with you, he doesn’t get sick of you, you don’t get sick of him. 

You’re infinitely happier when he’s within arms reach than when he’s not. 

“Only book I care about is the one I’m reading over there,” he leans in to kiss you briefly. The director of the shoot gives out the five minute warning to roll into the next section, Mike takes your phone and water bottle and heads back to his corner. 

It’s almost comedic, the way that the producer immediately starts the next section with asking you “Do you have a celebrity crush?”

You have to make a conscious effort to not look over at Mike, even though you know he’s watching you. 

“Uh,” you laugh awkwardly, “I don’t really have one.”

Your coworkers’ faces are stone, and you don’t know if that make you want to laugh more or not. You keep your eyes directed straight at the barrel of the camera and you know everyone’s going to see how uncomfortable you are. 

“I guess having one when…” you struggle to find the right words, “when you are where I am in life, is just kind of weird,” you laugh again. “It feels wrong, I don’t know.”

You finally let your gaze land on your boyfriend. He’s smiling at you, and you calm immediately knowing that even once you’re out of this building, back on the train to your one bedroom, your hand in his, sharing earbuds, he’ll be there. 

THIRTEEN. april 2022

“Tell me again, what she said,” your feet are in Mike’s lap. You have people over, and you can’t imagine being happier. Your apartment is bustling, a charcuterie board that you are very proud of on the kitchen counter. You still have New Years decorations up, and there’s music playing. Mike got back from his screen test a week ago, and you’re revelling in his presence again. 

Mike takes a sip of his drink and moves so he’s resting his arm on your calf. You have a few of your friends sitting on the sofas around you, hanging on to every word. “She told me to tell you-”

You interrupt him, too excited “She brought me up!” You giggle over your champagne. 

Mike giggles, the side of his mouth pinching up with his smile. “Zendaya wanted me to tell you that she had just seen your most recent movie, and that she thought you were really good in it.”

You flail back so you’re resting on the arm of a friend. “Zendaya knows my name.”

One of your friends puts his drink down on the coffee table. “Don’t you guys have a Grammy in your bedroom, why are you surprised by this?”

“It’s not mine,” you roll your eyes, tipsy off the champagne and drunk on the party. “I would never take credit for my wonderful boyfriend’s accomplishment.”

“She’s taken so many selfies with it,” the friend you’re leaning on chimes in. 

Mike laughs and almost as if by magnet you’re trying to get closer to him. Your head comes up beside his, resting on the wall behind the couch, his hand on the back of your neck. 

You don’t even know what you’re celebrating. Just being able to have people over, having a space to have them in. Having someone you’d want to host a party with. 

“Okay, and?” you shoot back. “You’ve taken selfies with me.”

He’s kissed the hollow of your collarbone, his hair, getting longer now, tickling your neck. You love him so much, you’re surprised there’s enough room in the apartment for all your guests with how much space it’s taking up. 

The apartment itself is obviously a new development in your life, but the area isn’t. Just two streets over is the apartment you were living in when you met Mike. Barely furnished, not decorated, not lived in. 

A place so physically close to the room you’re sitting in with a group of people you love more than life, but that couldn’t have possibly been further away. Now you have family pictures on the wall, you have his toothbrush right beside yours. You have a ticket to the show of Dear Evan Hansen you went and saw right when you two got together, sitting front row in the audience and marveling in the fact that the man onstage liked you, pride of place in your clear phone case. He has a ticket stub from that time a theatre in Columbus was playing a rerun of your feature film debut and he’d dragged you with him to go see it wedged in his. You have a delicate chain around your neck with an M on it so well hidden it might as well be lost to legend, he has your first initial hanging on his keychain.

It’s been five years, three lived-in states, several hundred shared meals, and an apartment just two streets away, but as you laugh at a story someone is telling, your cheek pressed against Mike’s, you’ve never felt closer to home.

[novascharms]

teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe

reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.

a.n — double update cause it's a short one + apology for the contents of this chapter word count — 1.4 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist

seven

wednesday, january 29th

"no, i'm telling you, it's real! i read about it." devon pulls on hazel's arms as the four of you walk toward your school building. "someone talking about it in a tiktok video is not reading about it, devon." ivy laughs and devon shoves her to the side. "you believe me, right, y/n?" she turns to you and you're in this weird inbetween place where you can hear them, sort of but your mind is also in a million other places so you don't immediately answer.

"hey?" hazel rests an arm on your shoulder which halts you, "hm?" you ask and look at your three very concerned best friends. "you know we don't have to go, right? we can just..go to my house, get all the strawberry ice cream from the freezer and have a long discussion about ..cryptozoology. devon can tell us about that time she saw the loch ness monster again." she says and you smile when devon mutters something about her experience being 100% real.

"you have a perfect attendance, hazel. we are not going to tarnish that for..a boy. i'm okay." you try to sound convincing, try to convince yourself even because really, it shouldn't suck as much as it does. you knew that rafe somehow reciprocating your crush was wishful thinking. it was stupid to ever even entertain or let the idea play in your mind.

you'd had crushes before, even kissed two guys. once when you were fourteen and once when you were fifteen but looking at them never felt the same way as looking at rafe and you had never even come close to kissing him.

"but—"

"no. let's go." you force the three girls forward. you were first in your class, first in your entire grade, you singlehandedly organise almost every major and minor event at this school, you process all the complaints and changes students want almost weekly, you help your parents at home, you work at a bakery on saturdays, you volunteer on sundays. you are resilient and capable and rafe cameron is not going to bat his eyelashes and break you in one month of knowing him. it just wasn't going to happen. it couldn't.

you could avoid him, you think as you walk into the school building. right? this school was fairly big and truth be told, before you started tutoring, rafe didn't really stand out to you. things could go back to that time. they had too.

the first four hours went perfectly. you passed by the office and helped sandy with some paperwork until class started, then you went to class and were able to avoid him during the break as well.

you got nervous when lunchtime came around. you and your friends usually stayed in school during lunch which meant rafe could just walk up to you in the cafeteria but there were other places you could go. you could go to the green spaces or the common area. maybe even the bleachers in the basketball court though you never really liked the smell in there.

you eventually chose the green space. it was quiet and calm, just what you needed. you and your friends sat down and when you open your bag you realise you left your lunch in your locker. "i left my lunch in my locker, i'll be right back." you tell them and fish your key out of your bag before making your way out of the green space and down the stairs.

when you made it to the second floor, you walked to your locker, keys jiggling in your hands. "y/n?" your heart stopped at the sound of his voice, and the natural course of action when someone called your name was to stop or at least turn but you just kept walking. "uh huh?" you answered.

"hey, hold on!" he called and you heard him start to jog. you start to walk faster. "i..uhh am kinda in a hurry!"

"just wait." he grabs your wrist and whips you around. he looks unjustifiable good again. you force yourself to not make eye contact. "yes, rafe?" you find yourself saying in the most passive tone and his gaze lingers, filled with worry. "what happened yesterday? i texted you like ten times." he's visibly upset—crease between his brows, soft searching eyes boring it yours and it makes you upset and now you want to pinch yourself for being upset because you've created some kind of fucked up parasocial relationship with a guy who has no real interest in you.

"i..just wanted to go home. so, i went home." is the only thing you can come up with. it's technically the truth too. you pull your wrist away from his hand and he watches the action with a pained expression. "did something happen while i was gone? why didn't you come to me? i was going to take you home."

you shake your head nonchalantly dismissing him, "it's fine. i like walking, i barely exercise so i need it. it's absolutely fine." you're already turning around to find your locker but he's grabbing your wrist again, "why are you acting like this?" he's frustrated with you. you understand. you're acting different but you're frustrated with him too. even if you don't necessarily have the right to be. "you know i'm not that smart so stop playing fucking mind games with me."

you frown at his tone but also his choice of words. "you are smart, rafe. you're very smart." you correct, not liking it when he belittled himself. him not believing he was capable or smart was the whole reason he needed tutoring in the first place.

"yet i can't piece together why you're mad at me." he says, his tone displeased and you shake your head, finding his eyes. you find yourself wanting to appease him, wanting to make him feel better. you hate that he's upset, it coils something deep inside of you. "i am not mad. i'm not upset, i just..i didn't want to—" it was baffling how much you struggled to come up with a lie. you weren't a liar, okay? "i-i saw you, i saw..that you were, you were.. and i j-just—" you stammered and threw your head back in frustration.

he stared at you, eyes wide and expecting. "you just..what? how am i meant to fix it if you won't tell me what's wrong?"

"you haven't done anything wrong; if anything it's me. i—"

"you what? you didn't have fun? did someone hurt you?"

"no one did anything." you murmur and it seems to be what pushes him over the edge, "then what's wrong?" he snaps, his apparent annoyance bursting at the seams.

"nothing is wrong. there is nothing to fix, i just wanted to go home so i went home!" you yelled suddenly and rafe along with the couple of people still in the hallway stared at you in what could only be describe as utter surprise. "sorry..i'm sorry." you tried to collect whatever pride you still had and turned on your heel abandoning your food completely.

it started slowly. just slow breaths as you walked up the stairs, then that pit in your throat when you were on the third floor, followed by tears in your eyes that you were frantically trying to blink away on the fourth floor, and when you finally made it to green space, the tears were streaming down your cheeks and hazel was already standing up before you'd even made it to the table. "oh, no, sweetheart," she's pulling you in your arms and the dam just breaks and you're letting out everything you'd been holding in since that stupid bonfire. "it's okay, i'm so sorry, you're okay." her comforting whispers and gentle kisses are muffled and overshadowed by the way you're crying in her arms.

you feel ivy and devon's hands on your back, rubbing slow circles, "we got you," you feel a warm hug from behind and one on the side. you're completely cooped up, unable to even see anymore light, just little cracks. either way your vision is blurry with tears. "i w-wanna go h-home.." you hiccup in hazel's neck and you can feel her nodding. "we'll go home. we're going home."

hazel's parents are surprised to see the four of you home but when they see which state you're in, they barely question it. her mom orders take out, the junkiest junk food they can find, she calls your mom to tell her where you are, you pile onto the couch and they don't mention rafe once. you have a six-hour-long discussion about cryptozoology and the science behind mythical creatures.

chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.  taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3

[sirhamburrger]

UNRAVEL (m. bachira x reader)

━☆ (detective x detective, for day two of @phantasmaebg) ━☆ in which you grow to love your case partner in all his unconventionality. ━☆ wc: 1272 || tags/cw: gn!reader, bachira is off the walla crazy, lover boy x no. 1 hater || event m.list ━☆ i'm lowkey very proud of this!! bit long but whatever

you absolutely hated meguru bachira. 

he had risen through the ranks of the organisation, making detective in just under five years. you, however, did not have as easy a time, so everything about him ended up grating on your nerves; his too-loud laugh, his tendency to skip over vital steps in the investigation process, and his penchant for inappropriate jokes at even more inappropriate timings, just to name a few.

you’ve always been serious about your job, focused, meticulous. and he was... well, a walking distraction. the way he’d spin around in his stupid swivel chair, mutter nonsense about "feeling the rhythm of the case," and throw out stupidly outlandish theories at task force meetings? it did nothing but made your blood boil.

but you’re stuck with him as your case partner now, and there’s nothing you can really do about it.

"hey, what do you think about this case? i'm sensing some kinda weird vibe here," bachira says mysteriously, a grin plastered across his face as he expertly spins his pen between his fingers. "maybe the suspect’s hiding in plain sight, right? you know, like a ninja!"

you stare at him, simultaneously annoyed and baffled. "a… a ninja? seriously?"

he tilts his head, the usual playful glint present in his eyes. "hey, don't knock it 'til you try it! you gotta think outside the box." he pauses, looking over at you with a grin that’s somehow both mischievous and... genuine? "you've got the serious part down, but if we don't play around a little, we're never gonna crack this."

you roll your eyes, but part of you can’t help but be intrigued. no one else on the team has been willing to entertain his unconventional methods, but somehow, his outlandish thoughts feel intuitive. right, almost. 

and despite how chaotic he is, things start to come together. as the days pass, you find yourself drawn to the rhythm of his mind. he’s got this way of looking at things from every angle, as though solving a case is a game he’s not willing to lose. you can’t deny that his unorthodox approach is starting to make sense, especially when the results speak for themselves. it’s like his chaos brings clarity to your logic.

it all comes pouring out one night, when you find yourself alone in the office with him after hours, when everyone else has already gone home. he’s unusually silent, like he knows you need the silence for clarity of mind. you thank him - in your head, of course, because you’d rather die than admit you appreciate him.

"you know," you say finally, breaking the silence, "i thought you'd be the death of me when we started this case."

he looks up, and a knowing smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"but now you’re kinda starting to like me, huh? and that scares you?"

you make a face, refusing to admit it to him, but you both know the truth. it’s obvious you’ve warmed up to him, grown to appreciate his bizarre brilliance. because there’s something almost beautiful about the way he sees the world, and you think you might be seeing it, too.

"maybe," you say quietly, and though you don’t dare to say it aloud, a small part of you is slowly beginning to fall for him - not just for his methods, but for who you now know him to be. 

bachira grins toothily. "knew it."

“not the part about me being scared, though.” you glare at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. but there’s a warmth in your chest now, one that you think might have been missing before.

finally, after weeks of hard work, it all clicks. bachira’s wild theories, your steady persistence, and a little bit of luck - together, you had cracked the code and closed the case. it wasn’t the suspect’s usual behavior that had given them away, but something subtle, something hiding in plain sight, just as bachira had suggested from the beginning. a small detail, overlooked by everyone else, had been staring you in the face the whole time.

"told you," bachira says, flashing his signature confident grin as you both stare at the final piece of evidence, relief washing over you like a gentle coastal wave. "sometimes you just gotta let your natural instincts do the work."

you can’t suppress your smile even if you try. he’s right, irrevocably so. it hadn’t been about following the rules, or sticking to the traditional methods - it had been about seeing things differently. and, somehow, in the process, you’d come to appreciate his way of thinking. even if you didn’t fully identify with or understand it.

he plops down in the chair across from you when you get back from ego's office, completely unbothered by the chaos still lingering in the room. he looks over at you, a serious expression replacing his usual playfulness. you stare back, curious. 

"hey," he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual. "ego called me into his office today."

“oh? what did he tell you?”

“he told me about your application.”

oh, crap.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter. the feeling of his rejection stings just as much as the tears welling up in your eyes. “i shouldn’t have sent it in without asking you first.”

“i mean…” his voice trails off, and he looks at you almost tenderly. “i didn’t know you wanted me as your permanent investigation partner. it’s honestly a huge compliment.”

you let out a watery chuckle. “are you serious? rin itoshi wants to partner up with you. rin freaking itoshi.”

“but you’re the best,” he insists.

you swipe at your eyes quickly. “way to let me down easy, i guess. thanks for being nice about it, though.”

“who said i was declining?”

“wait - really?” you perk up, eyes widening. “you want to be my investigation partner?”

he nods silently, and you notice his hand is almost brushing yours. he hesitates, reaching out to take your hand. in a decision that horrifies you, you don’t stop him.

“i want to be a lot more than that.”

and you think you might just swoon with how undeniably serious he looks in this moment, and maybe laugh a little too. you raise an eyebrow in mock surprise, feigning ignorance. "whatever do you mean?"

he leans in a little closer, clearly amused. "how about dinner? jist you and me. i think it’s time i take you out - somewhere nice, y’know. somewhere with no crime scenes, no paperwork, just... us."

you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. he’s for real, isn’t he? and despite all your stubbornness, your initial reluctance to admit any kind of admiration for him, you realized you want this. you want him.

"bachira," you murmur, your voice a little softer than even you expected, "is this you asking me out on a date?"

he gasps dramatically, clutching his chest as though he’s been wounded. "what? i’m heartbroken! i thought we were already dating!"

you roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips. 

"fine, meguru. take me out to dinner. but only because you solved the case, genius."

he grins triumphantly, "yes!" and then, with a gleam in his eyes, he adds, "it’s a date then, detective. i’ll be on my very best behavior. maybe."

as you both stand, gathering your things, you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your heart at what is to come. tonight, and in the days ahead. maybe things aren’t as black-and-white as you once thought. and maybe, just maybe, you’ve discovered something between the two of you - worth more than solving any case.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[overanalysingfandoms]

dude a draw. Not super accurate to what I wanted and imma try again later, but it reminded me of your Robin Hood AU.

Oh my god this is amazing!!!!!!!

My boiiiiiiiii he looks so goood ajrbwkdbskndnd

I absolutely love the purple!!!!! It's very regal (fitting for a Prince) and also very Grian, especially paired with the red!

He just looks so cute! With the puffy sleeves and the skirt skdbdksndksndj

And his facial expression is perfect!

I genuinely love your art style, my boi looks amazing!

This is genuinely soo cool <3<3<3

In return for this wonderful fanart please have the first draft of an incomplete fanfic for this au I wrote in one sitting like a year ago:

[Context, they're in Grian's room at the castle and it's around 6:00 in the evening]

Grian opened his mouth to fire back another witty mark when a knock at the door froze them both.

There were a few seconds of silence before another round of knocking and a questioning "Your Majesty?" snapped them out of their trance.

BigB.

Ren's advisor had mentioned to Grian at dinner a few nights before that he would be coming round sometime this week to go over some of the new defense plans and check if any changes needed to be made. Apparently he had chosen the absolute worst possible time to have their little chat considering the wanted criminal currently in Grian's room 2 inches away from him.

For a brief moment they stared at eachother in panic. Then the Prince jumped into action, pushing Scar in the direction of his wardrobe and shouting a hasty "Just one moment" over his shoulder. It took a few seconds but Scar seemed to get the message, rushing towards the wardrobe, throwing open the doors, and attempting to clamber in.

Unfortunately, a combination of the man's height and his natural propensity for clumsiness led to him snacking his forehead off the top with a grunt. He tried to get in again but the space was too small and rather inconveniently, though perhaps predictably, filled with Grian's clothes. Scar turned around to the Prince with a shrug and Grian groaned.

He grabbed Scar's hand and dragged him over to his bed. Glaring at the outlaw's suggestively raised eyebrows, he pointedly gestured for the outlaw to get under the four-poster. Once Scar did, not without an endearing obnoxious wink might he add, Grian hurriedly adjusted the sheets so they covered the gap between the bed and the floor, leaving a little room for Scar to peak out.

Finally, he ran back to the wardobe and slammed the doors. Probably a bit too hard if the concerned "Grian?" that came from outside was anything to go by. The Prince winced, he would have to figure out a way to explain that.

Brushing down his skirts he called an answering "Coming!" and ran to the door.

---

BigB sighed as he made it to the Prince's room. It had been a long day and thankfully this was the last thing on his list. He knocked. And... heard nothing? That was odd, he could have sworn Grian had said he had nothing planned this week when BigB had mentioned his visit a few nights ago.

"Your Majesty?"

A harried "Just one moment" was followed by a series of strange noises and eventually a loud slam. That didn't sound good, "Grian?" he questioned,

"Coming!" came the answer and a very frazzled looking Grian opened the door.

He must have seen the obvious confusion on BigB's face and explained "I was just putting all my socks away"

"Riiight... All your socks?"

"Yeah, I was organising them in colour order" he responded smoothly, as if it should answer BigB's questions rather than create more, all the Royal advisor could do was stare at him.

"What? Don't you like having all your clothes organised? Drives me mad if mine aren't"

There wasn't much BigB could do other than shrug with a nervous chuckle. It was probably another of those weird royal habits Grian seemed to have a whole lot of.

"It's not really something I think about to be honest"

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

"Welllll..." Grian began awkwardly "Did you want to come in?"

BigB breathed out a sigh of relief, "Yes please"

---

From where Grian had put him under the bed Scar had a pretty limited view of the Prince's room. He could see the back of the open door that Grian was talking to BigB through and the desk with the vanity by the wall next to it, but that was pretty much it.

He was just shifting to get a bit more comfortable - not that there was much he could do, lying on your stomach is pretty awkward no matter what position you're in - when Grian brought BigB in.

The Prince shot him a look, no doubt warning him to stay still and not make any noise. He of little faith. Scar was a renound outlaw! He knew how to handle himself in a situation like this, it was practically his job. He responded with a pout before giving Grian a quick wink and got an, admittedly fond, eye roll for his troubles. Really, so rude, you'd think Grian didn't care for his plight at all.

The outlaw stayed silent as Grian hauled himself onto his desk, back to the wall, and gestured for BigB to sit in the chair, the advisor's back conveniently facing Scar. The outlaw grinned as he made eye contact with Grian, anyone in The Resistance could say what they wanted about the prince being a risky informant, but they couldn't deny his cunning.

[That's all I wrote 😭]

I planned more but never got round to it haha

I want to continue it at some point

[velvetwyrme]

Hi!! Wow!!! There are a lot of you! (or it feels that way to me at least!) Thank you all for sticking around while I totter about doing my silly little things. It means a lot to me!!

I don’t like talking about/revealing my follower count so… I won’t! But I feel like Numbers require Celebration? What do people do for follower milestones?? Is there anything you guys want me to do? IDK I HAVEN'T DONE THIS BEFORE.

[bluestjayy]

Move complete 😭

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

i love when hiring managers play cute little games with applicants in their job descriptions on seek.

[fingertipsmp3]

I haaate when apple pay doesn’t work and I have to type my credit card number in because now I have to actually comprehend the ways in which I am damaging myself financially

[hopeheartfilia]

huh maybe im experiencing some self confidence issues

[dustylovelyrun]

I feel like I'm going absolutely insane, but. Those stupid little wooden pencils that schools issue out or that you'd buy specifically because they're allowed, like the HB standard exam ones or whatever. It feels very wrong to write or draw with them unless all the paint is stripped from the exterior, right? Like it doesn't matter how sharp they are, it's all this stupid, glossy, blunt feeling graphite that doesn't make any of the marks right?

[szkicel]

I’m kind of thinking about either reviving one of my side blogs as a personal blog or making a new one from scratch bc while I could just talk and reblog stuff on here - the tagging system makes it difficult to actually find anything so it’s probably better to keep this as mostly art blog

I was also thinking about making a separate blog just for RO.Bug where I could reblog my art, rant about characters and lore, reblog some inspirations and maybe answer some questions if you guys were up for that. Like I know RO.Bug is what I mostly draw anyway, but I don’t wanna clutter all my other artworks with incoherent ramblings about bugs ihbfjbf

[astonmartinii]

copycat | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader

they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!

f1tea

liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others

tagged: yourusername, chloereed

f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?

view all comments

user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?

user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO

user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...

user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?

user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences

user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her

user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in

user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)

user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon

user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE

user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO

user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good

user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n

user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n

user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch

user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments

user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast

user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell

yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)

view all comments

user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜

user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it

oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway

landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???

oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?

landonorris: ur so close-minded osc

yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up

landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?

oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?

landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?

yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack

landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED

mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???

user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver

user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!

georgerussell63: understood 🫡

user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???

user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection

user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks

charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?

yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment

charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?

yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT

charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown

landonorris: ???

oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?

yourusername: no more papaya rules?

chloereed

liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others

chloereed: summer breakin'

view all comments

user33: oh brother this guy STINKS

user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar

user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?

user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce

user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation

logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)

user38: not logan tapping in

logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job

chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate

logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?

chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me

logansargeant: you like need help

user39: GO LOGAN

user40: bro has been let of the leash

user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally

user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?

user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar

user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse

user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit

f1

liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri

f1: we're ready for you monza

view all comments

user46: OMG IS THAT?

user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her

user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN

landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?

yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up

chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?

yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge

chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing

yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you

user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg

user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming

user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners

maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane

user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?

maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back

charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername

yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails

oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it

chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will

oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off

user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol

user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3

f1tea

liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others

f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?

view all comments

user55: i FUCKING hope so

user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious

user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her

user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry

user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful

user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out

user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in

user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them

user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic

user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose

user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n

user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe

user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO

user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me

user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol

oscarpiastri

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be

view all comments

user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN

user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>

yourusername: love you bby

oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat

yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour

oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3

user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro

user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?

user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon

landonorris: ???

user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius

landonorris: OH

chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar

oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN

oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON

oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE

oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked

oscarpiastri: slay

user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio

yourusername: don't make him do community service :(

user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community

yourusername: you make a good point

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original

view all comments

user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you

user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE

oscarpiastri: 🤨

charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?

yourusername: never again hopefully

charles_leclerc: boring!

yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'

charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live

user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you

user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds

oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you

yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔

oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what

yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy

landonorris: cringe

yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed

landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad

yourusername: trust me, you need the help

user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander

user83: they're power is insane

maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service

yourusername: fuck yes

maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest

fin.

note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.

[chaos-bringer-13]

Vlad, Dan and Dani move across dimensions to Gotham because of some bad stuff happening in their own dimension. Vlad has a lot of his money with him in cash, and they quickly get themselves fake id's as father and his two children. Vlad's plan is to keep low profile, wait it out and then return. Dan and Dani don't care about Vlad's plan.

Vlad is shady, Dan and Dani are causing shenanigans, and a bunch of coincidences leads to people believing that they're some sort of mafia family.

Some idiots try to rob Dani and she blurts out "Do you know who my dad is?". Dan emerges from the shadows, sends Dani off and makes extremely specific and detailed threats of slow and painful death to the would-be robbers. He finishes the speech by adding that they would be wishing for him to do all of that if his and Dani's father found out about the robbery.

Then Dan accidentally recruits a group of goons by beating up their boss and feeling kinda responsible for the henchmen.

Then Dani steals the talons.

Dan has a fight over territory with one of the smaller rogues.

Dani steals Scarecrow's chemicals.

All the while they keep convincing people that this is all a part of some bigger plan of Masters family. First it's just a misunderstanding, then they keep doing it to annoy Vlad. Some people think that Masters is just a surname, some think that Master is a rogue's name. After a while everyone knows that there's an up-and-coming crime family.

Vlad is entirely oblivious. He doesn't know shit. He ends up making a small organisation (restaurant? car repair shop?) to hire people who keep coming to him. He's not sure why his children tell all these people that he can help but they are in trouble, so he helps. And then helps again, and again. All the places he opens look like crime fronts.

Vlad is still unaware that he's a mob boss.

Maybe at some point Dan and Dani think that Vlad figured this out (because its obvious) but doesn't say anything because the police has bugged their house or because he wants plausible deniability.

Obviously all of this ends with the Bats deciding to confront Masters. It's also the perfect moment for Danny to enter.

Here, have a shitty meme showing the moment.

Danny: I left you here fOR ONE MONTH

Vlad: It's not my fault!

Danny: I figured. Dani, if I give you a candy, will you tell me what the hell you've done?

Dani: What kind of candy?

Danny, handing out a Yellow Lantern ring: A Ring Pop.

Dani, snatching it: We accidentally started a mob family :D

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 2

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : the BAU team works the case, you get to help word count : 2.3k warning : canon-typical violence, mention of violence and sexual violence A/N : thank you all so much for all the love on part 1 of this !!! I love getting feedback, it's incredibly motivating ! I will probably do a part 3 :)) Also, my cat is sitting next to me as I write this, which I find quite funny

part 1, part 3, part 4

Back at the police station, Spencer had trouble focusing on the case. His mind kept wandering over to you, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing. He was on edge and the entire team could feel it. Hotch pulled him to the side to ask him if he wanted to give you a phone call. Reid refused, but settled on sending you a text, something he never usually did while working. Something he never usually did because he wasn't the biggest fan of technology and also because he couldn't decipher how you were actually feeling without hearing your voice and all the quirks in the way you spoke which gave away your real feelings.

Sent by Dr. Ironed Socks : < Hey. How are you doing? > Sent by You : < Ok, I'm having a tea on the couch. Geoff is in REM sleep on my lap. Thx for checking <3 >

Your text was followed by a pixelly picture of your slightly overweight (Spencer couldn't use that term to describe Geoffrey around you or you'd get upset) orange cat sprawled out on your lap, legs and arms askew, fast asleep. Spencer felt a small wave of relief spread through him. You were okay for now. Geoffrey was looking after you. Later, he'd help you process and give you all the tools necessary to get over such a traumatic event and move on. It was almost as if that was in his job description.

Returning to the room where the BAU team had settled in, Spencer sent Hotch a grateful nod. Hotch moved his lips in what resembled a small smile, Reid couldn't be sure. "Okay," Garcia's voice resounded from the speaker sitting in the middle of the round table, "I've contacted all of Mary Goldman's professors and it turns out she didn't go to class today. Her first class was at 11:30 but she never showed up." "None of the students we interrogated on campus had seen her after 10:15," Emily spoke up. "Spencer's roommate saw her between 10:30 and 11:00," Rossi intervened. "Okay, we'll get her to come in," Hotch affirmed. Spencer's whole body tensed. You had been the last person to see the victim. His mind was so busy reeling, thinking about everything you'd have to go through as the most promising witness, that he missed Morgan's question.

"Reid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, what did you say?" "What was the time of death according to the coroner?" "14:30," Rossi answered. "It was 14:26, actually," corrected Reid. Rossi rolled his eyes. "Okay, so the unsub has his victim between around, let's say 11:15, and 14:26," Rossi shot a pointed look at Spencer, "that's about three hours and 11 minutes. In those three hours, he had time to take the victim someplace where neither of them would be seen or heard, beat and sexually assault her, and finally dump her in smack-dab in front of the university." "He's definitely organised and wants to send a message," Emily thought aloud. "But what is he trying to say? Look at what I can do? You can't stop me?" "Friends," interrupted Garcia, "I'm going to need at least some information before I even try to get anything out of a search. He's taking and leaving them on campus, so I'm guessing he doesn't necessarily need a vehicle. Does he live in the area?" "Yes, he's local or knows the area, he knows these women and he most likely knows the campus. Search for white males, early twenties with a record of violence and sexual misconduct. Cross-reference that with victims of reported abuse and sexual abuse in the last twenty five years. Run background checks for all university staff. Also have a look at similar victims and MOs in this area in the last five years. This may not be his first time," spoke Hotch. "On it, I'll get back to you when I've found something." "Thanks, Garcia."

You'd taken a shower as soon as you'd arrived home. The water was too hot and you'd scrubbed your skin too hard but getting out, you felt a slight bit better. Heavily disliking the way you still felt, you opted for a cup of Earl Grey tea with milk and sugar. Settling on the couch with a steaming cup in your hands, you tucked your legs beneath you and sighed.

Images of Mary's dead body were printed onto the inside of your eyelids. You still couldn't believe it. Your mind reeled as you tried to think of an explanation for it all. Whichever path you followed, you came up empty. You could not comprehend or imagine any reason of taking the life of an innocent person, especially in such a violent way. Luckily for you, you still didn't know the extent of the violence.

A familiar noise pulled you from your dark thoughts. Geoffrey had just jumped down from his cat tree. You watched him stretch and languidly walk over to you. He meowed once before jumping onto the couch, right next to you. You moved your legs so that you were sitting cross-legged and scratched his head. He purred in delight and pressed himself against you. He sniffed at your tea with an unimpressed look before climbing into your lap before letting himself flop down on his side, stretching out his appendages. You cooed as his pink toe-beans stretched too and laid a hand on his belly, scratching gently. The vibrations of his purrs had a calming effect on you. "Are you trying to make me forgive you for biting my ankle the other day when I wouldn't give you any more treats? You know Spencer says you're a bit overweight, I was just trying to get him to stop body-shaming you, my love..."

A few minutes later, you get a text from Spencer. About thirty minutes after that, you get a phone call from him. "Hey, would you mind coming to the station? It turns out you're the last person to have seen the victim."

"I'll do the cognitive interview." "Reid, I don't think that's a good idea." "Look, yes I'm invested, I know that. But I also know her and-" "Reid, no. This is the reason we such have procedures." "But I-" "Reid." Hotchner's tone translated finality. Spencer's shoulders sank in defeat. He had figured that if he had been the one conducting the interview, maybe it would have been less traumatic for you. He hated the idea of not being there for you, with you, during such a trying moment. He bit his bottom lip.

"I'll do it," volunteered Morgan. Reid felt slight comfort at that, Morgan was one of the few people he would entrust his life to. He could entrust you to him for the interview, even if he didn't like it. Hotchner nodded. "Reid, you work with Garcia, focus on finding other victims with the same MO to help build the profile." Reid nodded and went to find his colleagues.

When you entered the police station, it was almost like he could feel your presence. He came to find you straight away, not wanting to leave alone even for a second. "Hey." "Hey." Reid immediately pulled you in for a meaningful embrace, burying his face in your hair. The smell of your shampoo, conditionner and body wash were bliss to his nostrils. They were a promise that you were here, you were safe, you were okay. Morgan watched from afar, a small smile playing at his lips. He knew Reid, and the hug you exchanged was both too hasty and too tight to be anything casual. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry to have to make you come in, but they're going to do- well I wanted to do it but they wouldn't let me, so it's-"

A slightly older, very muscular and gentle man stepped forward, holding out his hand to you. You shook it. "I'm Agent Derek Morgan. I'm one of Spencer's colleagues. I'll be the one conducting the interview, seeing as there's a conflict of interest with you and Spencer. I hope you can understand that." You introduced yourself and looked at Spencer before answering Derek. "Yes, I understand, it's- it's not a problem." "Great, if you could just follow me, please?" You licked your lips and sent Spencer a look, which he answers with a nod of reassurance and a small smile, before following Derek.

"You can close your eyes if it makes you more comfortable." You were sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The light above you was ticking at uneven intervals and the room smelt of worry. You didn't know how you could get any more comfortable, but listening to Morgan's even, alto voice helped a bit. "Okay." You closed your eyes. "You told Agent Rossi that you crossed the victim somewhere around quarter to eleven. Is that correct?" "Uh, yes." "Where did you cross her?" "In the main hall." "Where were you going?" "Um, I had just been to the bathroom and I was heading to my Anglo-American Literary Survey class." "Okay, can you describe to me everything about the moment when you crossed the victim? What you saw, what you felt, smelled, heard? Was anything out of the ordinary?" You opened your eyes.

"Um, I'm sorry, but could you stop referring to Mary as the victim, please? She has a name, which is Mary Goldman, and a victim wasn't the only thing she was." Derek was slightly surprised at your comment but understood where you came from. Separating from the name was a way for profilers to gain some distance from the horrendous violence. Personally knowing the victim, you didn't have such luxury. "Of course, I apologise. What did you feel when you crossed Mary? Was anything out of place?"

You nodded in thanks and tried to bring yourself back to that moment. It seemed unreal, how such a small interaction suddenly held such importance. "O-Okay, uh, my hands are still a bit wet. There weren't any towels in the bathroom. I saw her after she saw me and we exchanged a smile. I thought she looked really pretty today, but I didn't tell her. We really don't know each other that well." "Okay, that's good. Was she wearing anything out of habit for her?" "Uhh, no, she was wearing a pleated skirt and a sweater vest. She often dresses like that, I don't know exactly why I thought she looked pretty. I guess she just looked happy. Nothing was out of the ordinary." "Good. Could you hear or smell anything?" "Yeah, well, there were the voices of other people in the hall. I can hear girls laughing. I smell Mary's perfume when she walks past me. She always wears the same one, it's Chanel, Mademoiselle Coco specifically, she told me once at a party."

"Okay, do you know where she's going?" "I- yeah, she's heading for her Behavioural Neuroscience class." "Is she walking in the right direction?" "Uh... Yes, yes, she is. She's not in too much of a hurry, though, she doesn't like the teacher." "So why is she heading there already, then? The class only starts at 11:30." "She likes to reread the material from the previous week before the class starts." "Why doesn't she like the teacher?" "No one does, all he does is read off his slides and he's a jerk when it comes to grading."

Morgan suppressed a smile at your comment. "Okay, thank you so much, Y/N, this was very helpful." "Was it? I didn't feel like-" "Yes, I promise you've just shared some crucial pieces of information." "O-Okay, if you say so."

All eyes were on Morgan as he entered the briefing room. He put his paper coffee cup down on the table and looked at Hotch. "Nothing was out of the ordinary. Mary was wearing habitual clothes and the same perfume she always wore. She was heading to the same class, as she did weekly, at the same time. My guess is this guy knew her routine and did a blitz attack. Y/N gave me the number of Mary's best friend, and according to her, Mary didn't have any guys in her life except for her dad and brother."

Hotchner nodded. Spencer couldn't help but feeling proud of you for being able to go through with the interview and to provide such useful information, too. He'd have to congratulate you when he got home. "Pretty boy and I found three similar victims in the last three years. They weren't connected to this case because they were in another university, just on the other side of the state line. Last year, three girls, university students, were killed, same MO, all disappeared for about three hours before being found dead in front of the university, they attended," Garcia spoke from the speaker. Spencer nodded in agreement to her words. "What did the police find back then?" asked Emily. "Nothing, they- uh, did all they could during the month that the three murders happened but after the third victim, the unsub stopped," Spencer answered. "Stopped?" Emily repeated, brows drawn together in confusion. "Yeah, he just- stopped killing and disappeared. Our best guess is that something triggered him then and that the same thing triggered him now."

"Oh, another thing," Garcia sounded reluctant to share the information she had, "I looked at all the victims' pictures and... well, I'll just send them to you, that'll be easier."

Spencer's blood ran ice cold as he stared at the four girls on the screen. They all looked exactly like you.

Taglist : (all those of you who wanted a part two <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina

[nettedtangible]

An idea I love is when the Foxes become a more well-respected team in the league, Wymack starts talking to them about being “role models” and that they have all these young fans now who look up to them. And Neil is just horrified.

Then the Exy league organises this like, pre-game warm up meet and greet thing where they do some drills and games with the kids of the local teams in the area.

Everyone expects to have to keep Andrew away from the kids but he’s actually fantastic with them. He’s blunt and honest but he does try very hard and they absolutely love him.

Neil spends the entire time running away from the children and hiding behind Wymack (he tried hiding behind Andrew but Andrew was actually getting along with the little demons)

Kevin hates it but the kids LOVE him, they think it’s hilarious how grumpy and angry he gets and they keep falling over themselves laughing anytime he yells. They keep asking him to “do the grumpy voice” he starts yelling in French and they think it’s just about the funniest thing that’s ever happened.

Dan and Renee are keeping the whole thing on track, actually running through the drills and teaching the kids with endless patience. Dan has a little mini me girl who’s like 10 and the captain of her team and just wants to be Dan so bad so Dan gives her a whistle and she’s just shadowing her all day, blowing her whistle whenever Dan tries to get someone’s attention.

Aaron and Allison hang back and only very reluctantly interact with the children.

Matt is the equivalent of a climbing gym. He has about 4 children hanging off various limbs at any given time and a little 6 year old has taken up permanent residence on his shoulders.

Nicky loooves it and teaches the kids all of bad words and gets them to play pranks on Kevin- which results in Kevin yelling at him and he and the kids falling over laughing.

One child seems to be really isolated and quiet. Neil sits with this kid so Wymack will stop yelling at him to get involved. They don’t talk at all but Neil gives the kid some gum and the kid manages a little smile.

Part 2